3 ^ 0.03 
 
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 3;i0.03 
 
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UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME. 
 
 Disraeli’s Curiosities of Literature. 
 Boswell’s Life of Johnson. 
 
 The Works of Oli-ver Goldsmith, 
 Woodfall’s Junius. 
 
 Pope’s Homer. 
 
 Lempriere’s Classical Dictionary, 
 Milman’s History of the Jews. 
 Addison’s Spectator. 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES, 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM 
 
 THE ORIGINAL GREEK; 
 
 WITH 
 
 NOTES, CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL; 
 
 and a 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 By JOHN LANGHORNE, D.D., 
 
 AND 
 
 WILLIAM LANGHORNE, A.M. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, 
 Broadway, Ludgate Hill. 
 
 NEW YORK: 9, LAFAYETTE PLACE. 
 
 ! — 
 
 ^ At :-A\ : . . G -JVS, 
 
r r 
 
 • '■ I 
 
 , '{ 
 
TO 
 
 K 
 
 
 ^3^0, o 3 
 P-14S^ 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. LORD FOLKESTONE, 
 
 ') 
 
 
 
 ^ |My Lord, 
 
 ^ The style and genius of dedications in general, have neither done 
 honoui to the patron nor to the author. Sensible of this, we intended to 
 have published a work, which has been the labour of years, without the usual 
 mode of soliciting protection. An accident has brought us into the number 
 of dedicators. Had not you accompanied your noble father to our humble 
 letieat, we should still have been unacquainted with your growing virtues, 
 your extraordinary erudition, and perfect knowledge of the Greek language 
 and learning ; and Plutarch would have remained as he did in his retirement 
 at Ch?eronea, where he sought no patronage but in the bosom of Philosophy. 
 
 Accept, my lord, this honest token of respect from men, who, equally 
 independent and unambitious, wish only for the countenance of genius and 
 fiiendship. Praise, my lord, is the usual language of dedications. But will 
 oui piaise be of value to you? Will any praise be of value to you, but that of 
 your own heart? Follow the example of the Earl of Radnor, your illustrious 
 father. Like him, maintain that temperate spirit of policy, which consults 
 the dignity of government, while it supports the liberty of the subject. But 
 ve put into your hands the best of political preceptors, a j^receptor who 
 trained to virtue the greatest monarch upon earth ; and, by giving happiness 
 to the world, enjoyed a pleasure something like that of the benevolent Being 
 who created it. 
 
 We are, my lord. 
 
 Your lordship’s most obedient, and very humble servants, 
 
 J. AND W. LANGHORNE. 
 
 

 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 If the merit of a work may be estimated from the universality of its reception, 
 Plutarch’s Lives have a claim to the first honours of literature. No book has 
 been more generally sought after, or read with greater avidity. It was one of 
 the first that were brought out of the retreats of the learned, and translated 
 into the modern languages. Amiot, Abbe of Bellozane, published a French 
 translation of it in the reign of Henry the Second ; and from that work it was 
 translated into English, in the time of Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 It is said by those who are not willing to allow Shakspeare much learning, 
 that he availed himself of the last-mentioned translation ; but they seem to 
 foiget that, in order to support their arguments of this kind, it is necessary 
 for them to prove that Plato, too, was translated into English at the same 
 time; for the celebrated soliloquy, ‘‘To be, or not to be,” is taken almost 
 verbatim, from that philosopher ; yet we have never found that Plato was 
 translated in those times. 
 
 Amiot was a man of great industry and considerable learning. He sought 
 diligently in the libraries of Rome and Venice for those Lives of Plutarch 
 which are lost ; and though his search was unsuccessful, it had this good 
 effect, that, by meeting with a variety of manuscripts, and comparing them 
 with the printed copies, he was enabled in many places to rectify the text. 
 This was a' very essential circumstance ; for few ancient writers had suffered 
 more than Plutarch from the carelessness of printers and transcribers ; and, 
 with all his merit, it was his fate, for a long time, to find no able restorer. 
 The schoolmen despised his Greek, because it had not the purity of Xenophon, 
 nor the Attic terseness of Aristophanes ; and, on that account, very unreason- 
 ably bestowed their labours on those that wanted them less. Amiot’s trans- 
 lation was published in the year 1558 ; but no reputable edition of the Greek 
 text of Plutaich appeared till that of Paris in 1624. The above-mentioned 
 tianslation, however, though drawn from an imj^erfect text, passed through 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 viii 
 
 many editions, and was still read, till Dacier, under better auspices, and in 
 better times, attempted a new one ; which he executed with great elegance, 
 and tolerable accuracy. The text he followed was not so correct as might 
 have been wished ; for the London edition of Plutarch was not then published. 
 However, the French language being at that time in great perfection, and the 
 fashionable language of almost every court in Europe, Dacier’s translation 
 came not only into the libraries but into the hands of men. Plutarch was 
 universally read, and no book in those times had a more extensive sale, or 
 went through a greater number of impressions. The translator had, indeed, 
 acquitted himself, in one respect, with great happiness. His book was not 
 found to be French Greek. He had carefully^ followed that rule, which no 
 translator ought ever to lose sight of, the great rule of humouring the genius, 
 and maintaining the structure of his own language. For this purpose he 
 frequently broke the long and embarrassed periods of the Greek ; and by 
 dividing and shortening them in his translation, he gave them greater per- 
 spicuity and more easy movement. Y et still he was faithful to his original ; 
 and where he did not mistake him, which indeed he seldom did, conveyed 
 his ideas with clearness, though not without verbosity. Ilis translation had 
 another distinguished advantage. He enriched it with a variety of explanatory 
 notes. There are so many readers who have no competent acquaintance with 
 the customs of antiquity, the laws of the ancient states, the ceremonies of their 
 religion, and the remoter and minuter parts of their history and genealogy, 
 that to have- an account of these matters ever before the eye, and to travel with 
 a guide who is ready to describe to us every object we are unacquainted with, 
 is a privilege equally convenient and agreeable. But here the annotator ought 
 to have stopped. Satisfied with removing the difficulties usually arising in the 
 circumstances above mentioned, he should not have swelled his pages with 
 idle declamations on trite morals and obvious sentiments. Amiot’s margins, 
 indeed, are everywhere crowded with such. In those times they followed the 
 method of the old divines, which was to make practical imj^rovements of every 
 matter ; but it is somewhat strange that Dacier, who wrote in a more en- 
 lightened age, should fall into that beaten track of insipid moralizing, and be 
 at pains to say what every one must know. Perhaps, as the commentator of 
 Plutarch, he considered himself as a kind of travelling companion to the 
 reader ; and, agreeably to the manners of his country, he meant to show his 
 politeness by never holding his peace* The apology he makes for deducing 
 and detailing these flat precepts, is the view of instructing younger minds. He 
 had not philosophy enough to consider, that to anticipate the conclusions of 
 such minds, in their pursuit of history and characters, is to prevent their 
 proper effect. When examples are placed before them, they will not fail to 
 make right inferences ; but if those are made for them, the didactic air of 
 information destroys their influence. 
 
 After the old English translation of Plutarch, which was professedly taken 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IX 
 
 from Amiot’s French, no other appeared till the time of Dryden. That great 
 man, who is never to be mentioned without pity and admiration, was pre- 
 vailed upon, by his necessities, to head a company of translators ; and to lend 
 - the sanction of his glorious name to a translation of Plutarch, written, as he 
 himself acknowledges, by almost as many hands as there were lives. That 
 I this motley work was full of errors, inequalities, and inconsistencies, is not in 
 the least to be wondered at. Of such a variety of translators, it would have 
 been very singular if some had not failed in learning, and some in language. 
 The truth is, that the greatest part of them were deficient in both. Indeed, 
 their task was not easy. To translate Plutarch under any circumstances would 
 require no ordinar}^ skill in the language and antiquities of Greece : but to 
 attempt it whilst the text was in a depraved state ; unsettled and unrectified ; 
 abounding v* ith errors, misnomers, and transpositions ; this required much 
 greater abilities than fell to the lot of that body of translators in general. It 
 appears, however, from the execution of their undertaking, that they gave 
 themselves no gieat concern about the difheuities that attended it. Some few 
 blundered at the Greek ; some drew from the Scholiast’s Latin ; and others, 
 more humble, trod scrupulously in the paces of Amiot. Thus copying the 
 idioms of different languages, they proceeded like the workmen at Eabel, and 
 fell into a confusion of tongues, vrhile they attempted to speak the same. But 
 the diversities of style were not the gieatest fault of this strange translation. 
 It was full of the grossest errors. Ignorance on the one hand, and hastiness 
 or negligence on the other, had filled it with absurdities in every life, and 
 inaccuracies in almost every page. The language, in ^neral, was insupport- 
 ably tame, tedious, and embarrassed. The periods had no harmony ; the 
 phraseology had no elegance, no spirit, no precision. 
 
 Yet this is the last translation of Plutarch’s Lives that has appeared in the 
 English language, and the only one that is now read. 
 
 It must be oumed, that when Dacier’s ^raiislation came abroad, the pro- 
 prietor of Dryden’s copy endeavoured to rej^air it. But how was this done ? 
 Not' by the application of learned men, who might have rectified the errors 
 by consulting the original, but by a mean recourse to the labours of Dacier. 
 AVliere the French translator had differed from the English, the opinions of 
 the latter were religiously given up : and sometimes a period, and sometimes a 
 page, were translated anew from Bader ; while, in due compliment to him, 
 the idiom of his language, and eveiy tozi?' <P expressio 7 i were most scrujmlously 
 preserved. Nay, the editors of that edition, which was published in 1727, 
 did more. They not only paid Dacier the compliment of mixing his French 
 with their English, but while they borrowed his notes, they adopted even the 
 most frivolous and superfluous comments that escaped his pen. 
 
 Thus the English Plutarch’s Lives, at first so heterogeneous and absurd, 
 received but little benefit from this whimsical reparation. Dacier’s best notes 
 j u ere, indeed, of some value ; but the patchwork alterations the editors had 
 
J^I^£K4C£, 
 
 dmwii from his translation, made their book appear still like Otway’s Old 
 Woman, whose gown of many colours spoke — 
 
 Variety of wretchedness. 
 
 This translation continued in the same form upwards of thirty years. But 
 in the year 1758 the proprietor engaged a gentleman of abilities, very different 
 from those who had formerly been employed, to give it a second purgatioin 
 He succeeded as well as it was possible for any man of the best judgment and 
 learning to succeed, in an attempt of that nature. That is to say, he rectified 
 a multitude of erroi*s, and in many places endeavoured to mend the miserable 
 language. Two of the Lives he translated anew ; and this he executed in such 
 a manner, that, had he done the whole, the present translators would never 
 have thought of the undertaking. But two Lives out of fifty made a very 
 small part of this great work ; and though he rectified many errors in the old 
 translation, yet, where almost everything was error, it is no wonder if many 
 escaped him. This was, indeed, the case. In the course of our notes we had 
 remarked a great number ; but, apprehensive that such a continual attention to 
 the faults of a former translation might appear invidious, we expunged the 
 greatest part of the remarks, and suffered such only to remain as might testify 
 the propriety of our present undertaking. Besides, though the ingenious 
 reviser of the edition of 175S might repair the language where it was most 
 palpably deficient, it was impossible for him to alter the cast and complexion 
 of the whole. It would still retain its inequalities, its tameness, and heavy 
 march ; its mixture of idioms, and the irksome train of far-connected periods. 
 These it still retains ; and, after all the operations it has gone through, 
 remains — 
 
 Like some patch’d doghole eked with ends of wall ! 
 
 In this view of things, the necessity of a new translation is obvious ; and 
 the hazard does not appear to be great. ^Yith such competitors for the public 
 favour, the contest has neither glory nor danger attending it. But the labour 
 and attention necessary, as well to secure as to obtain that favour, neither are, 
 nor ought to be, less : and with whatever success the present translators may 
 be thought to have executed their undertaking, they will always at least have 
 the merit of a diligent desire to discharge this public duty faithfully. 
 
 A\here the text of Plutarch appeared to them erroneous, they have spared 
 no pains, and neglected no means in their power, to rectify it. 
 
 Sensible that the great art of a translator is to prevent the peculiarities of 
 his author’s language from stealing into his own, they have been particularly 
 attentive to this point, and have generally endeavoured to keep their English 
 unmixed with Greek. At the same time it must be observed, that there is 
 frequently a great similarity in the structure of the two languages ; yet that 
 resemblance, in some instances, makes it the more necessary to guard against 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 xi 
 
 it on the whole. This care is of the greater consequence, because Plutarch’s 
 Lives generally pass through the hands of young people, who ought to read 
 their own language in its native purity, unmixed and untainted with the idioms 
 of different tongues. For their sakes too, as well as for the sake of readers of 
 a different class, we have omitted some passages in the text, and have only 
 signified the omission by asterisms. Some, perhajDS, may censure us for taking 
 too great a liberty with our author in this circumstance. However, we must 
 beg leave in that instance to abide by our own opinion ; and sure we ai'e, that 
 we should have censured no translator for the same. Could everything of that 
 kind have been omitted, we should have been still less dissatisfied ; but some- 
 times the chain of the narrative would not admit of it, and the disagreeable 
 parts were to be got over with a^ much decency as possible. 
 
 In the descriptions of battles, camps and sieges, it is more than probable 
 that we may sometimes be mistaken in the military terms. We have endea- 
 voured, however, to be as accurate in this respect as possible, and to acquaint 
 ourselves with this kind of knowledge as well as our situations would permit ; 
 but we v/ill not promise the reader that we have always succeeded. V/here 
 something seemed to have fallen out of the text, or where the ellipsis was too 
 violent for the forms of our language, we have not scrupled to maintain the 
 tenor of the narrative, or the chain of reason, by such little insertions as 
 appealed to be necessary for the purpose. These short insertions we at first 
 put between hooks ; but as that deformed the page, without answering any 
 material purpose, we soon rejected it. 
 
 Such are the liberties we have taken with Plutarch ; and the learned, we 
 flatter ourselves, will not think them too great. Yet there is one more, which, 
 if we could have presumed upon it, would have made his book infinitely more 
 unifoim and agreeable. We often wished to throw out of the text into the 
 notes those tedious and digressive comments that spoil the beauty and order of 
 his narrative, mortify the expectation, frequently, when it is most essentially 
 interested, and destroy the natural influence of his story, by turning the atten- 
 tion into a different channel. What, for instance, can be more irksome and 
 impel tinent than a long dissertation on a point of natural philosophy starting 
 up at the very crisis of some important action? Every reader of Plutarch 
 must have felt the pain of these unseasonable digressions ; but we could not, 
 upon our own pleasure or authority, remove them. 
 
 In the notes we have prosecuted these several intentions. We have endea- 
 voured to bring the English reader acquainted with the Greek and Roman 
 Antiquities ; where Plutarch had omitted anything remarkable in the Lives, 
 to supply it from other authors, and to make his book in some measure a 
 geneial history of the periods under his pen. In the notes, too, we have 
 assigned reasons for it, where we have differed from the former translators. 
 
 This part of our work is neither wholly borrowed, nor altogether original. 
 Where Dacier or other annotators offered us anything to the purpose, we have ‘ 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 xii 
 
 not scrupled to make use of it ; and, to avoid the endless trouble of citations, 
 we make this acknowledgment once for all. The number of original notes 
 the learned reader will find to be very considerable : but there , are not so 
 many notes of any kind in the latter part of the work \ because the manners 
 and customs, the religious ceremonies, laws, state-offices, and forms of govern- 
 ment, among the ancients, being explained in the first Lives, much did not 
 remain for the business of information. 
 
 Four of Plutarch’s Parallels are supposed to be lost — those of Themistocles 
 and Camillus ; Pyrrhus and Marius ; Phocion and Cato ; Alexander and 
 Ceesar. These Dacier supplies by others of his own composition ; but so 
 different from those of Plutarch, that they have little right to be incorporated 
 with his works. 
 
 The necessary chronological tables, together with tables of money, weights 
 and measures, and a copious index, have been provided for this translation ; 
 of which we may truly say, that it wants no other advantages than such as the 
 translators had not power to give. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Life of Plutarch 
 
 I. Theseus 
 
 II. Romulus 
 
 Theseus and Romulus compared ... 
 
 III. Lycurgus 
 
 IV. Numa ... 
 
 Lycurgus and Numa compared 
 
 V. Solon 
 
 VI. Publicola 
 
 Solon arid Publicola compared 
 
 VII. Themistocles 
 
 VIII. Camillus 
 
 IX. Pericles ... ... 
 
 X. Fabius Maximus ... 
 
 Pericles and Fabius Maximus compared 
 
 XI. Alcibiades 
 
 XII. Caius Marcius Coriolanus 
 
 Alcibiades and Caius Marcius Coriolanus compared ... 
 
 XIII. Timoleon 
 
 XIV. Paulus .^milius ... 
 
 Timoleon and Paul us ^milius compared 
 
 XV. Pelopidas ... ... ... 
 
 XVI. Marcellus- ... 
 
 Pelopidas and Marcellus compared 
 
 XVII. Aristides 
 
 XVIII. Cato the Censor 
 
 Aristides and Cato the Censor compared 
 XIX. Philopoemen 
 
 XX. Titus Quinetius Flaminius 
 
 Philopoemen and Titus Quinetius Flaminius compared 
 XXL Pyrrhus 
 
 XXII. Caius Marius 
 
 PAGE 
 
 xvii 
 
 I 
 
 13 
 
 27 
 
 29 
 
 45 
 
 57 
 
 59 
 
 73 
 
 82 
 
 84 
 
 98 
 
 114 
 
 130 
 
 141 
 
 142 
 
 158 
 
 172 
 
 174 
 
 187 
 
 202 
 
 203 
 
 215 
 
 229 
 
 230 
 
 243 
 
 254 
 
 256 
 
 264 
 
 272 
 
 273 
 
 288 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 xiv 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Lysander 
 
 
 305 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Sylla 
 
 
 316 
 
 
 Lysander and Sylla compared 
 
 
 332 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Cimon 
 
 
 333 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Lucullus 
 
 
 342 
 
 
 Cimon and Lucullus compared 
 
 
 360 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Nicias 
 
 
 361 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Marcus Crassus 
 
 
 375 
 
 
 Nicias and Marcus Crassus compared 
 
 
 390 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Sertorius 
 
 
 392 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Eumenes 
 
 
 402 
 
 
 Sertorius and Eumenes compared 
 
 
 410 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Agesilaus 
 
 
 411 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Pompey 
 
 
 426 
 
 
 Agesilaus and Pompey compared . . . 
 
 
 457 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Alexander 
 
 
 458 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Julius Caesar 
 
 
 489 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Phocion 
 
 
 512 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Cato the Younger 
 
 
 524 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Agis 
 
 
 546 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Cleomenes 
 
 
 552 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Tiberius Gracchus 
 
 
 565 
 
 XL. 
 
 Caius Gracchus ... 
 
 
 572 
 
 
 Agis, Cleomenes and Tiberius and Caius Gracchus compared 
 
 578 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Demosthenes 
 
 
 579 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Cicero ... 
 
 
 589 
 
 
 Demosthenes and Cicero compared 
 
 
 606 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Demetrius 
 
 
 607 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Antony 
 
 
 624 
 
 
 Demetrius and Antony compared ... 
 
 
 648 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Dion 
 
 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Brutus ... 
 
 
 
 
 Dion and Brutus compared 
 
 
 678 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Artaxerxes 
 
 
 679 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Aratus 
 
 
 690 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Galba 
 
 ... 
 
 706 
 
 , L. 
 
 Otho 
 
 
 715 
 
 
 Tables of Coins, Weights, Measures, etc. 
 
 
 723 
 
 
 Chronological Tables ... 
 
 
 724 
 
 
 Index 
 
 
 729 
 
 L, 
 
THE LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
THE LIFE OF PLUTARCH 
 
 As, in the progress of life, we first pass 
 through scenes of innocence, peace, and 
 fancy, and afterwards encounter the vices 
 and disorders of society ; so we shall here 
 amuse ourselves a while in the peaceful 
 sohtude of the philosopher, before we 
 proceed to those more animated, but less 
 pleasing objects he describes. 
 
 Nor will the view of a philosopher’s life be 
 less instructive than his labours. If the 
 latter teach us how great vices, accompanied 
 with great abilities, may tend to the ruin of 
 a state ; — if they inform us how Ambition 
 attended with magnanimity, how Avarice 
 directed by political sagacity, how Envy and 
 Revenge, armed with personal valour and 
 popular support, will destroy the most sacred 
 establishments, and break through every 
 barrier of human repose and safety ; the 
 former will convince us that equanimity is 
 more desirable than the highest privileges 
 of mind, and that the most distinguished 
 situations in life are less to be envied than 
 those quiet allotments where Science is the 
 support of Virtue. 
 
 Pindar and Epaminondas had, long before 
 Plutarch’s time, redeemed, in some measure, 
 the credit of Boeotia, and rescued the inha- 
 bitants of that country from the proverbial 
 imputation of stupidity. When Plutarch 
 appeared, he confirmed the reputation it had 
 recovered. He showed that genius is not 
 the growth of any particular soil ; and that 
 its cultivation requires no peculiar qualities 
 of chmate. 
 
 Chseronea, a town in Boeotia, between 
 Phocis and Attica, had the honour to give 
 him birth. This place was remarkable for 
 nothing but the tameness and servility of its 
 inhabitants, whom Antony’s soldiers made 
 beasts of burthen, and obliged to carry their 
 corn upon their shoulders to the coast. As 
 it lay between two seas, and was partly shut 
 up by mountains, the air, of course, was 
 heavy, and truly Boeotian. But situations 
 
 as little favoured by nature as Chaeronea 
 have given birth to the greatest men ; of 
 which the celebrated Locke and Siany others 
 are instances. 
 
 Plutarch himself acknowledges the stu- 
 pidity of the Boeotians in general ; but he 
 imputes it rather to their diet than to their 
 air : for, in his Treatise on Animal Food, 
 he intimates, that a gross indulgence in that 
 article, which was usual with his countrymen, 
 contributes greatly to obscure the intellectual 
 faculties. 
 
 It is not easy to ascertain in what year he 
 was born. Ruauld places it about the 
 middle of the reign of Claudius ; others, 
 towards the end of it. The following cir- 
 cumstance is the only foundation they have 
 for their conjectures. 
 
 Plutarch says, that he studied philosophy 
 under Ammonius, at Delphi, when Nero 
 made his progress into Greece. This, we 
 know, was in the twelfth year of that Empe- 
 ror’s reign, in the consulship of Paulinus 
 Suetonius and Pontius Telesinus, the second 
 year of the Olympiad 21 1, and the sixty-sixth 
 of the Christian Era. Dacier observes, that 
 Plutarch must have been seventeen or 
 eighteen at least, when he was engaged in 
 the abstruse studies of philosophy ; and he, 
 therefore, fixes his birth about five or six 
 years before the death of Claudius. This, 
 however, is bare supposition ; and that, in 
 our opinion, not of the most probable kind. 
 The youth of Greece studied under the 
 philosophers very early ; for their works, 
 with those of the poets and rhetoricians, 
 formed their chief course of discipline. 
 
 But to determine whether he was born 
 under the reign of Claudius, or in the early 
 part of Nero’s reign (which we the rather 
 believe, as he says himself, that he was very 
 young when Nero entered Greece) ; to make 
 it clearly understood, whether he studied at 
 Delphi at ten, or at eighteen years of age, is 
 of much less consequence, than it is to know 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 by what means, and under what auspices, he 
 acquired that humane and rational philo- 
 sophy which is distinguished in his works. 
 
 Ammonius was his preceptor ; but of him 
 we know little more than what his scholar 
 has accidenially let fall concerning him. He 
 mentions a singular instance of his manner 
 O! correcting his pupils. “Our master,” says 
 he, “ having one day observed that we had 
 indulged ourselves too luxuriously at dinner, 
 at his atternoon lecture, ordered his freed- 
 man to give his own son the discipline of 
 the whip, in our presence ; signifying, at 
 the same time, that he suffered this punish- 
 ment, because he could not eat his victuals 
 without sauce. The philosopher all the 
 while had his eye upon us, and we knew 
 well for whom this example of punishment 
 was intended.” This circumstance shows, 
 at least, that Ammonius was not of the 
 school of Epicurus. The severity of his 
 discipline, indeed, seems rather of the Stoic 
 cast ; but it is most probable, that he 
 belonged to the Academicians ; for their 
 schools, at that time, had the greatest 
 reputation in Greece. 
 
 It was a happy circumstance in the 
 discipline of those schools, that the parent 
 only had the power of corporal punishment : 
 the rod and the ferula were snatched from 
 the hand of the petty tyrant : his office alone 
 was to inform the mind : he had no au- 
 thority to dastardize the spirit : he had no 
 power to extinguish the generous flame of 
 freedom, or to break down the noble indepen- 
 dency of soul, by the slavish, debasing, and 
 degrading application of the rod. This 
 mode of punishment in our public schools, 
 is one of the worst remains of barbarism 
 that prevails among us. Sensible minds, 
 however volatile and inattentive in early 
 years, may be drawn to their duty by many 
 means, which shame, and fears of a more 
 liberal nature than those of corporal punish- 
 ment, will supply. Where there is but little 
 sensibility, the effect which that mode of 
 punishment produces is not more happy. It 
 destroys that little ; though it should be the 
 first care and labour of the preceptor to 
 increase it. To beat the body is to debase 
 the mind. Nothing so soon, or so totally 
 abolishes the sense of shame ; and yet that 
 sense is at once the best preservative of 
 virtue, and the greatest incentive to every 
 species of excellence. 
 
 Another principal advantage, which the 
 ancient mode of the Greek education gave 
 its pupils, was their early access to every 
 branch of philosophical learning. They did 
 not, like us, employ their youth in the ac- 
 quisition of words : they were engaged in 
 
 pursuits of a higher nature ; in acquiring 
 the knowledge of things. They did not, 
 like us, spend seven or ten years of scholastic 
 labour in making a general acquaintance 
 with two dead languages. Those years were 
 employed in the study of nature, and in 
 gaining the elements of philosophical know- 
 ledge from her original economy and laws. 
 Hence all that Dacier has observed con- 
 cerning the probability of Plutarch’s being 
 seventeen or eighteen years of age when he 
 studied under Ammonius, is without the 
 least weight. 
 
 I'he way to mathematical and philoso- 
 phical knowledge was, indeed, much more 
 easy among the ancient Greeks, than it. can 
 ever be with us. Those, and every other 
 science, are bound up in terms, which we 
 can never understand precisely, till we 
 become acquainted with the languages from 
 which they are derived. Plutarch, when he 
 learned the Roman language, which was 
 not till he was somewhat advanced in life, 
 observed that he got the knowledge of words 
 from his knowledge of things. But we lie 
 under the necessity of reversing his method ; 
 and before we can arrive at the knowledge 
 of things, we must first labour to obtain the 
 knowledge of words. 
 
 However, though the Greeks had access 
 to science without the acquisition of other 
 languages, they were, nevertheless, suffi- 
 ciently attentive to the cultivation of their 
 own. Philology, after the mathematics and 
 philosophy, was one of their principal 
 studies ; and they applied themselves con- 
 siderably to critical investigation. 
 
 A proof of this we find in that Dissertation 
 which Plutarch hath given us on the word 
 et, engraved on the Temple of Apollo at 
 Delphi. In this tract he introduces the 
 scholastic disputes, wherein he makes a 
 principal figure. After giving us the various 
 significations which others assigned to this 
 word, he adds his own idea of it ; and that 
 is of some consequence to us, because it 
 shows us that he was not a polytheist. 
 says he, “ ThotL art;'' as if it were et ev, 
 Thou art 07 ie. ‘ ‘ I mean not in the aggregate 
 
 sense, as we say one army, or one body of 
 men composed of many individuals ; but 
 that which exists distinctly must necessarily 
 be one ; and the very idea of Being, implies 
 individuality. One is that which is a simple 
 Being, free from mixture and composition. 
 To be one, therefore, in this sense, is 
 consistent only with a nature entire in its 
 first principle, and incapable of alteration or 
 decay.” 
 
 So"^ far, we are perfectly satisfied with 
 Plutarch’s creed, but not with his criticism. 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 To suppose that the word « should signify 
 the existence of one God only, is to h^ard 
 too much upon conjecture ; and the w'hole 
 tenor of the Heatheu theology makes against 
 it. 
 
 Nor can we be better pleased with the 
 other interpretations of this celebrated word. 
 We can never suppose, that it barely sig- 
 nified il/ intimating thereby, that the 
 business of those who visited the temple 
 was inquiry, and that they came to ask the 
 Deity zy such events should come to pass. 
 This construction is too much forced ; and 
 it would do as well, or even better, were 
 the et interpreted, zy you make large pre- 
 sents to the God, y you pay the priest. 
 
 Were not this inscription an object of 
 attention among the learned, we should not, 
 at this distant period of time, have thought 
 it w'orth mentioning, otherwise than as it 
 gives us an idea of one branch of Plutarch’s 
 education. But as a single w’ord, inscribed 
 on the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, cannot 
 but be matter of curiosity with those who 
 carry their inquiries into remote antiquity, 
 we shall not scruple to add one more to the 
 other conjectures concerning it. j 
 
 We will suppose then, that the ei was here ' 
 used, in the Ionic dialect, for eiOe, / wish. 
 This perfectly expressed the state of mind 
 of all that entered the temple on the 
 business of consultation ; and it might be 
 no less emphatical in the Greek than Virgil’s 
 Quanquam 0/ was in the Latin. If we 
 carry this conjecture farther, and think it 
 probable, that this word might, as the 
 initial word of a celebrated line in the third 
 book of the Odyssey, stand there to signify 
 the whole line, we shaU reach a degree of 
 probability almost bordering on certainty. 
 The verse we allude to is this : — 
 
 Ez yap k/xot 'fo<T<rriv 6 e Oeoi ovvafiiv TrapaOeiev I 
 
 ‘ ‘ O that the Gods would empower me to 
 obtain my wishes ! ” What prayer more 
 proper on entering the temples of the j 
 Gods, particularly with the view of con- : 
 suiting them on the events of life ? 
 
 If it should be thought that the initial 
 word is insufficient to represent a whole 
 verse, we have to answer, that it was ! 
 agreeable to the custom of the ancients. ' 
 They not only conveyed the sense of par- j 
 ticular verses by their initial w'ords, but 
 frequently of large passages by the quotation 
 of a single line, or even of half a line ; 
 some instances of wffiich occur in the follow- 
 ing Lives. The reason of this is obvious. 
 The works of their best poets w ere almost 
 universally committed to memory ; and the 
 
 smallest quotation was sufficient to convey 
 the sense of a whole passage. 
 
 These observations are matters of mere 
 curiosity, indeed : but they have had their 
 use : for they have naturally pointed out to 
 us another instance of the excellence of that 
 education wffiich formed our young philo- 
 sopher. This was the improvement of the 
 memory, by means of e.xercise. 
 
 Mr. Locke has jusdy, though obviously 
 enough, obsened, that nothing so much 
 strengthens this faculty as the emplovment 
 of it. 
 
 The Greek mode of education must hav'e 
 had a wonderful effect in this case. The 
 continual exercise of the memory, in laving 
 up the treasures of their poets, the precepu 
 of ffieir philosophers, and the problems of 
 their mathematicians, must have given it 
 that mechanical power of retention, which 
 nothing could easily escape. Thus Pliny* 
 teUs us of a Greek called Charmidas, who 
 could repeat from memory the contents of 
 the largest library. 
 
 The advantages Plutarch derived from this 
 exercise appear in every part of his works. 
 As the writings of poets lived in his memory, 
 they were ready for use and application on 
 every apposite occasion. They were always 
 at hand, either to confirm the sentiments 
 and justify the principles of his heroes, to 
 support his own, or to illustrate both. 
 
 By the aid of a cultivated memory too, he 
 was enabled to write a number of contem- 
 porary Lives, and to assign to each such a 
 portion of bi^icess in the general transac- 
 tioi^ of the times, as might be sufficient to 
 delirieate the character, without repeated 
 details of the same actions and negotiations. 
 This made a very difficult part of his work ; 
 he acquitted himself here with great man- 
 agement and address. Sometimes, indeed, 
 he has rep>eated the same circumstances 
 in contemporary lives ; but it was hardly 
 avoidable. The great wonder is, that he 
 has done it so seldom. 
 
 But though an improved memory might, 
 in this respect, be of service to him, as 
 undoubtedly it was, there were others in 
 which it was rather a disadvantage. By 
 trusting too much to it, he has falfen into 
 inaccuracies and inconsistencies, where he 
 was professedly drawing from preceding 
 writers ; and we have often been obhged to 
 rectify his mistakes, by consulting those 
 authors, because he would not be at the 
 pains to consult them himself. 
 
 If Plutarch might properly be said to 
 
 * Hist, Nat. lib. vii. cap. 24, 
 
XX 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH, 
 
 belong to any sect of philosophers, his 
 education, the rationality of his principles, 
 and the modesty of his doctrines, would 
 incline us to place him with the latter 
 academy. At least, when he left his master 
 Ammonius, and came into society, it is 
 more than probable, that he ranked par- 
 ticularly with that sect. 
 
 His writings, however, furnish us wnth 
 many reasons for thinking, that he 
 afterwards became a citizen of the philo- 
 sophical world. He appears to have 
 examined every sect with a calm and 
 unprejudiced attention ; to have selected 
 what he found of use for the purposes of 
 virtue and happiness ; and to have left the 
 rest for the portion of those whose narrow- 
 ness of mind could think either science or 
 fehcity confined to any denomination of 
 men. . 
 
 From the Academicians he took their 
 modesty of opinion, and left them their 
 original scepticism : he borrowed their ra- 
 tional theology, and gave up to them, in a 
 great measure, their metaphysical refine- 
 ments, together with their vain, though 
 seductive enthusiasm. 
 
 With the Peripatetics, he walked in search 
 of natural science, and of logic ; but, satis- 
 fied with whatever practical knowledge 
 might be acquired, he left them to dream 
 over the hypothetical part of the former, 
 and to chase the shadows of reason through 
 the mazes of the latter. 
 
 To the Stoics, he was indebted for the 
 behef of a particular Providence ; but he 
 could not enter into their idea of future 
 rewards and punishments. He knew not 
 how to reconcile the present agency of the 
 Supreme Being with his judicial character 
 hereafter ; though Theodoret tells us, that 
 he had heard of the Christian religion, and 
 inserted several of its mysteries in his 
 works.* From the Stoics too, he borrowed 
 the doctrine of fortitude : but he rejected 
 the unnatural foundation on which they 
 erected that virtue. He went back to 
 Socrates for principles whereon to rest it. 
 
 With the Epicureans he does not seem to 
 have had much intercourse, though the 
 accommodating philosophy of ^stippus 
 entered frequently into his pohtics, ^and 
 sometimes into the general economy ox his 
 fife. In the httle states of Greece, that 
 philosophy had not much to do ; but had it 
 been adopted in the more violent measures 
 of the Roman Administration, our celebrated 
 
 * Nothing of Plutarch’s is now extant. fr9m 
 which we can infer, that he was acquainted with 
 the Christian religion. 
 
 biographer would not have had such scenes 
 of blood and ruin to describe; for emu- 
 lation, prejudice, and opposition, upon 
 whatever principles they might plead^ their 
 apology, first struck out the fire that laid the 
 commonwealth in ashes. If Plutarch bor- 
 rowed anything more from Epicurus, it was 
 his rational idea of enjoyment. That such 
 was his idea, is more than probable ; for 
 it is impossible to beheve the tales that the 
 heathen bigots have told of him, or to 
 suppose that the cultivated mind of a philo- 
 sopher should pursue its happiness out of 
 the temperate order of nature. His irreli- 
 gious opinions he left to him, as he had left 
 to the other sects their vanities and absurd- 
 ities. 
 
 But when we bring him to the school of 
 Pythagoras, what idea shall we entertain 
 of him ? Shall we consider hini any longer 
 as an Academician, or as a citizen of the 
 philosophical w'orld ? Naturally benevolent 
 and humane, he finds a system of divinity 
 and philosophy perfectly adapted to his 
 natural sentiments. The whole animal cre- 
 ation he had originally looked upon with an 
 instinctive tenderness ; but when the amiable 
 Pythagoras, the priest of Nature, in defence 
 of the common privileges of her creatures, 
 had called rehgion into their cause ; — when 
 he sought to soften the cruelty that man had 
 exercised against them, by the honest art of 
 insinuating the doctrine of transmigration, 
 how could the humane and benevolent 
 Plutarch refuse to serve under this priest of 
 Nature? It was impossible. He adopted 
 the doctrine of the Metempsychosis. He en- 
 tered into the merciful scheme of Pythagoras, 
 and, hke him, diverted the cruelty of the 
 human species, by appeahng to the selfish 
 quahties of their nature, by subduing their 
 pride, and exciting their sympathy, while he 
 showed them that their future existence 
 might be the condition of a reptile. 
 
 This spirit and disposition break strongly 
 from him in his observations on the elder 
 Cato. And as nothing can exhibit a more 
 hvely picture of him than these paintings of 
 his own, we shall not scruple to introduce 
 them here : — 
 
 For my part, I cannot but charge his using 
 his servants like so many beasts of burden, and 
 turning them off, or selling them when they grew 
 old, to the account of a mean and ungenerous 
 spirit, which thinks that the sole tie betwe^ 
 man and man is interest or necessity. But g^d- 
 ness moves in a larger sphere than justice. Ihe 
 obligations of law and equity reach only to man- 
 kind, but kindness and beneficepce should be 
 extended to creatures of every species ; and, these 
 stUl flow from the breast of a well-natured man. 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCIL xxi 
 
 as streams that issue from the living fountain. A 
 good man will take care of his horses and dogs, not 
 only while they are young, but when old and i>ast 
 service. Thus the people of Athens, when they 
 had finished the temple called Hecatompedon, set 
 at liberty the beasts of burden that had been 
 chiefly employed in the work, suffering them to 
 pasture at large, free from any other service. It 
 IS said, that one of these afterwards came of its 
 own accord to work, and, putting itself at the 
 head of the labouring cattle, marched before them 
 to the citadel. This jjleased the people, and they 
 made a decree, that it should be kept at the 
 public charge so long as it lived. The graves of 
 Cimon's mares, with which he thrice conquered 
 at the Olympic games, are still to be seen near 
 his own tomb. JMany have shown particular 
 marks of regard, in burying the dogs which they 
 had cherished and been fond of ; and amongst 
 the rest, Xantippus of old, whose dog swam by 
 the side of his galley to Salamis, when the 
 Athenians were forced to abandon their city, and 
 was afterwards buried by him upon a promontory, 
 which to this day is called the Dog's Grave. We 
 certainly ought not to treat living creatures like 
 shoes or household goods, which, when worn out 
 with use, we throw away ; and were it only to learn 
 benevolence to humankind, we should be merci- 
 ful to other creatures. For my own part, I would 
 not sell even an old ox that had laboured for me ; 
 much less would I remove, for the sake of a little 
 money, a 7nan grown old in my service, from his 
 usual lodgings and diet ; for to him, poor man ! 
 it would be as bad as banishment, since he could 
 be of no more use to the buyer than he was to the 
 seller. But Cato, as if he took a pride in these 
 things, tells us, that when consul, he left his war- 
 horse in Spain, to save the public the charge of 
 his conveyance. Whether such things as these 
 are instances of greatness or littleness of soul, let 
 the reader judge for himself." 
 
 What an amiable idea of our benevolent 
 philosopher ! How worthy the instructions 
 of the priest of Nature ! How honourable 
 to that great master of truth and universal 
 science, whose sentiments were decisive in 
 every doubtful matter, and v/hose maxims 
 were received with silent conviction ! * 
 
 Wherefore should we wonder to find 
 Plutarch more particularly attached to the 
 opinions of this great man? Whether we 
 consider the immensity of his erudition, or 
 the benevolence of his system, the motives 
 for that attachment were equally powerful 
 Pythagoras had collected all the stores of 
 human learning, and had reduced them 
 into one rational and useful body of science. 
 Like our glorious Bacon, he led Philosophy 
 forth from the jargon of schools, and the 
 fopperies of sects. He made her what she 
 was originally designed to be, the handmaid 
 of Nature ! friendly to her creatures, and 
 faithful to her laws. Whatever knowledge 
 
 could be gained by human industry, by the 
 most extensive inquiry and observation, he 
 had every means and opportunity to obtain. 
 The priests of Egypt unfolded to him their 
 mysteries and their learning : they led him 
 through the records of the remotest an- 
 tiquity, and opened all those stores of 
 science that had been amassing through a 
 multitude of ages. The Magi of Persia 
 co-operated with the priests of Egypt in 
 the instruction of this wonderful philo- 
 sopher. They taught him those higher 
 parts of science, by v/hich they were them- 
 selves so much distinguished, astronomy 
 and the .system of the universe. The laws 
 of moral life, and the institutions of civil 
 societies, with their several excellences and 
 defects, he learned from the various states 
 and establishments of Greece. Thus ac- 
 complished, when he came to dispute in the 
 Olympic contests, he was considered as a 
 prodigy of wisdom and learning ; but when 
 the choice of his title was left to him, he 
 modestly declined the appellation of a wise 
 man, and was contented only to be called 
 a lover ofwisdoin* 
 
 Shall not, Plutarch, then, meet with all 
 imaginable indulgence, if, in his veneration 
 for this great man, he not only adopted the 
 nobler parts of his philosophy, but (what he 
 had avoided with regard to the other sects) 
 followed him too in his errors? Such, in 
 particular, was his doctrine of dreams ! to 
 which our biographer, we must confess, has 
 paid too much attention. Yet, absolutely 
 to condemn him for this, would, perhaps, 
 be hazarding as much as totally to defend 
 him. We must acknowledge, with the 
 elder Pliny, Si exemplis agatur, p 7 'ofectb 
 pariafiant or, in the language of honest 
 Sir Robert de Coverley, “ Much may be 
 said on both sides." However, if Pliny, | 
 whose complaisance for the credit of the ; 
 marvellous in particular was very great, - 
 could be doubtful about this matter, we ' 
 of little faith may be allowed to be more so. 
 Yet Plutarch, in his Treatise on Oracles, 
 has maintained his doctrine by such power- 
 ful testimonies, that if any regard is to be j 
 paid to his veracity, some attention should ! 
 be given to his opinion. We shall therefore I 
 leave the point, where Mr. Addison thought 
 proper to leave a more improbable doctrine, 
 in suspense. 
 
 When Zeno consulted the oracle in what 
 manner he should live, the answer was, 
 that he should inquire of the dead. A^si- 
 
 * Val. Max. lib. viil cap. 15. 
 
 ■* Val. Max. lib. viii. cap. 7. 
 t Hist. Nat. lib. x. cap. 75. 
 
XXll 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 duous and indefatigable application to 
 reading made a considerable part of the 
 Greek education ; and in this our biogra- 
 pher seems to have exerted the greatest 
 industry. The number of books he has 
 quoted, to which he has referred, and from 
 which he has written, seems almost incredible, 
 when it is considered that the art of printing 
 was not known in his time, and that 
 the purchase of manuscripts was difficult 
 and dear. 
 
 His family, indeed, was not without 
 wealth. In his Symposiacs, he tells us that 
 it was ancient in Chasronea ; and that 
 his ancestors had been invested with the 
 most considerable offices in the magistracy. 
 He mentions in particular his great-grand- 
 father Nicarchus, whom he had the hap- 
 piness of knowing; and relates, from his 
 authority, the misfortunes of his fellow- 
 citizens, under the severe discipline of 
 Antony’s soldisrs. 
 
 His grandfather Lamprias, he tells us, 
 was a man of great eloquence, and of a 
 brilliant imagination. He was distin- 
 guished by his merit as a convi\ial com- 
 panion ; and was one of those happy mortals, 
 who, when they sacrifice to Bacchus, are 
 favoured by Mercury. His good-humour 
 and pleasantry increased with his cups ; and 
 he used to say, that wine had the same 
 effect upon him, that fire has on incense, 
 which causes the finest and richest essences 
 to evaporate. 
 
 Plutarch has mentioned his father like- 
 wise ; but has not given us his name in any 
 of those writings that are come down to us. 
 Plowever, he has borne honourable testimony 
 to his memory ; for he tells us, that he was 
 a learned and a virtuous man, well acquainted 
 with the philosophy and theology of his 
 time, and conversant with the works of the 
 poets. Plutarch, in his Political Precepts, 
 mentions an instance of his father’s dis- 
 cretion, which does him great honour : — 
 
 “I remember,” says he, “that I was sent, 
 \yhen a very young man, along with another 
 citizen of Chseronea, on an embassy to the pro- 
 consul. My colleague being, by some accident, 
 obliged to stop in the way, I proceeded without 
 him, and executed our commission.' Upon my 
 return to Chaeronea, when I was to give an 
 account in public of my negotiation, my father 
 took me aside, and said, ‘ My son, take care that 
 in the account you are about to give, you do not 
 mention yourself distinctly, but jointly with your 
 colleague. Say not, I we7it, I spoke, I exectited; 
 but we we7it, we spake, we executed. I'hus, 
 though your colleague w-as incapable of attending 
 you, he will share in the honour of your success, 
 as well as in that of your appointment ; and you 
 wall avoid that envy which necessarily follows all 
 arrogated merit.’ ” 
 
 Plutarch had two brothers, whose names 
 w^ere Timon and Lamprias. These were 
 his associates in study and amusement ; and 
 he always speaks of them with pleasure and 
 affection. Of Timon in particular he says, 
 “ Though Fortune has, on many occasions, 
 been favourable to me, yet 1 have no obli- 
 gations to her so great as the enjoyment of 
 my brother Timon’s invariable friendship 
 and kindness.” Lamprias too he mentions 
 as inheriting the lively disposition and good- 
 humour of his grandfather, who bore the 
 same name. 
 
 Some writers have asserted, that Plutarch 
 passed into Egypt. Others allege, that 
 there is no authority for that assertion ; and 
 it is true that we have no written record 
 concerning it. Nevertheless, we incline to 
 believe that he did travel into that country ; 
 and we found our opinion on the following 
 grounds. In the first place, this tour was 
 a part of liberal education among the 
 Greeks ; and Plutarch, being descended 
 from a family of distinction, w'as therefore 
 likely to enjoy such a privilege. In the next 
 place, his treatise of Isis and Osiris, shows 
 that he had a more than common knowledge 
 of the religious mysteries of the Egyptians ; 
 and it is therefore highly probable, that he 
 obtained this knowledge by being conversant 
 amongst them. To have written a treatise 
 on so abstruse a subject, without some more 
 eminent advantages than other writers 
 might afford him, could not have been 
 agreeable to the genius, or consistent with 
 the modesty, of Plutarch. 
 
 However, supposing it doubtful whether 
 he pa^ed into Egypt, there is no doubt at 
 all that he travelled into Italy. Upon 
 what occasion he \isited that country, it is 
 not quite so certain ; but he probably went 
 to Rome in a public capacity, on the busi- 
 ness of the Chaeroneans. For, in the Life 
 of Demosthenes, he tells us, that he had 
 no leisure in his journey to Italy to learn 
 the Latin language, on account of public 
 business. 
 
 As the passage here referred to affords us 
 further matter of speculation for the Life of 
 Plutarch, we shall give it as we find it : — 
 
 “An author who would write a history of 
 events which happened in a foreign country, and 
 cannot be come at in his own, as he has his 
 materials to collect from a variety of books, dis- 
 persed in different libraries, his first care should 
 be to take up his residence in some populous town 
 which has an ambition for literature. There he 
 will meet with many curious and valuable books ; 
 and the particulars that are wanting in writers, 
 he may, upon inquiry, be supplied with, by those 
 who have laid them up in the faithful repository 
 of memory. This will prevent his work from 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH, xxiii 
 
 being defective in any material point. As to 
 myself, I live in a little town ; and I choose to 
 live there, lest it should become still less. When 
 I was in Rome, and other parts of Italy, I had 
 not leisure to study the Latin tongue, on account 
 of the public commissions with which I was 
 charged, and the number of people who came to 
 be* instructed by me in philosophy. It was not, 
 therefore, till a late period in life that I began to 
 read the Roman authors.” 
 
 From this short account, we may collect, 
 with tolerable certainty, the following cir- 
 cumstances : — In the first place, Plutarch 
 tells us, that while he was resident in Rome, 
 public business and lectures in philosophy 
 left him no time for learning the Latin 
 language ; and yet, a little before, he had 
 observed that those who write a history of 
 foreign characters and events, ought to be 
 conversant with the historians of that 
 country where the character existed, and 
 the scene is laid : but he acknowledges, that 
 he did not learn the Latin language till he 
 was late in life, because, w hen at Rome, he 
 had not time for that purpose. 
 
 We may, therefore, conclude, that he 
 wrote his l^Iorals at Rome, and his Lives at 
 Chaeronea. For the composition of the 
 former, the knowledge of the Roman 
 language was not necessary : the Greek 
 
 tongue W'as then generally understood in 
 Rome ; and he had no necessity for making 
 use of any other, when he delivered his 
 lectures of philosophy to the people. Those 
 lectures, it is more than probable, made up 
 that collection of Morals which is come 
 down to us. 
 
 Though he could not avail himself of the 
 Roman historians, in the great purpose of 
 writing his Lives, for want of a competent 
 acquaintance wdth the language in which 
 they WTote ; yet, by conversing with the 
 principal citizens in the Greek tongue, he 
 must have collected many essential circum- 
 stances, and anecdotes of characters and 
 events, that promoted his design, and en- 
 riched the plan of his work. The treasures 
 he acquired of this kind he secured by 
 means of a common-place book, w'hich he 
 constantly carried about with him : and as 
 it appears that he was at Rome, and in other 
 parts of Italy, from the beginning of Ves- 
 pasian’s reign to the end of Trajan’s, he 
 must have had sufficient time and opportu- 
 nity to procure materials of every kind ; for 
 this was a period of almost forty years. 
 
 We shall the more readily enter into the 
 belief that Plutarch collected his materials 
 chiefly from conversation, w hen w'e consider 
 in what manner, and on what subjects, the 
 ancients used to converse. The discourse 
 
 of people of education and distinction in 
 those days w^as somewhat different from that 
 of ours. It was not on the powers or pedigree 
 of a horse : it w^as not a match of travelling 
 betw'een geese and turkeys ; it was not on a 
 race of maggots, started against each other 
 on the table, when they first came to day- 
 light from the shell of a filbert : it was not 
 by what part you may suspend a spaniel the 
 longest without making him whine : it was 
 not on the exquisite finesse, and the highest 
 manoeuvres of play. The old Romans had 
 no ambition for attainments of this nature. 
 They had no such masters in science as 
 Heber and Hoyle. The taste of their day 
 did not run so high. The powers of poetry 
 and philosoph)^ the economy of human life 
 and manners, the cultivation of the intel- 
 lectual faculties, the . enlargement of the 
 mind, historical and political discussions on 
 the events of their country ; — these, and 
 such subjects as these, made the principal 
 part of their conversation. Of this Plutarch 
 has given us at once a proof and a specimen, 
 in what he calls his Symposiacs, or, as oiur 
 Selden calls it, his Table-Talk. From such 
 conversations as these, then, we cannot 
 wonder that he was able to collect such 
 treasures as were necessary for the main- 
 tenance of his biographical undertaking. 
 
 In the sequel of the last quoted passage, 
 we find another argument which confirms 
 us in the opinion that Plutarch’s knowledge 
 of tile Roman histor}'^ was chiefly of collo- 
 quial acquisition. ‘ ‘ My method of learning 
 the Roman language,” says he, “ may seem 
 strange ; and yet it is very true. I did not 
 so much gain the knowledge of things by 
 the w’ords, as words by the knowledge I 
 had of things.” This plainly implies, that 
 he was previously acquainted with the events 
 described in the language he was learning. 
 
 It must be owned that the Roman His- 
 tory had been already written in Greek, j 
 by Polybius ; and that, indeed, somewhat 
 invalidates the last-mentioned argument. 
 Nevertheless, it has still sufficient evidence 
 for its support. There are a thousand 
 circumstances in Plutarch’s Lives, which 
 could not be cbllected from Poh bius ; and 
 it is clear to us, that he did not make much 
 use of his Latin reading. 
 
 He acknowledges that he did not apply 
 himself to the acquisition of that language 
 till he was far advanced in life : possibly it 
 might be about the latter part of the reign 
 of Trajan, whose kind disposition towards 
 his country, rendered the weight of public 
 and political business easy to him. 
 
 But whenever he might begin to learn the 
 language of Rome, it is cenain that he made 
 
XXIV 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 no great progress in it. This appears as 
 well from the little comments he has occa- 
 sionally given us on certain Latin words, as 
 from some passages in his Lives, where he 
 has professedly followed the Latin histo- 
 rians, and yet followed them in an uncertain 
 and erroneous manner. 
 
 That he wrote the lives of Demosthenes 
 and Cicero at Chasronea, it is clear from his 
 own account ; and it is more than probable 
 too, that the rest of his Lives were written 
 in that retirement ; for if, while he was at 
 Rome, he could scarcely find time to learn 
 the language, it is hardly to be supposed 
 that he could do more than lay up materials 
 for composition. 
 
 A circumstance arises here, which con- 
 firms to us an opinion we have long en- 
 tertained, that the Book of Apothegms, 
 which is said to have been written by 
 Plutarch, is really not his work. This book 
 is dedicated to Trajan ; and the dedicator 
 assuming the name and character of Plu- 
 tarch, says, he had, before this, written the 
 Lives of Illustrious Men : but Plutarch 
 
 wrote those Lives at Chaeronea ; and he did 
 not retire to Chaeronea till after the death 
 of Trajan. 
 
 There are other proofs, if others were 
 necessary, to show that this work was 
 supposititious. For, in this dedication to 
 Trajan, not the least mention is made of 
 Plutarch’s having been his preceptor, of his 
 being raised by him to the consular dignity, 
 or of his being appointed governor of Illyria. 
 Dacier, observing this, has drawn a wrong 
 conclusion from it, and, contrary to the 
 assertion of Suidas, will have it, that 
 Plutarch was neither preceptor to Trajan, 
 nor honoured with any appointments under 
 him. Had it occurred to him that the Book 
 of Apothegms could not be Plutarch’s 
 book, but that it was merely an extract 
 made from his real works, by some indus- 
 trious grammarian, he would not have been 
 under the necessity of hazarding so much 
 against the received opinion of his con- 
 nections with Trajan ; nor would he have 
 found it necessary to allow him so little 
 credit to his letter addressed to that em- 
 peror, which we have upon record. The 
 letter is as follows : — 
 
 Plutarch to Trajan. 
 
 *‘I am sensible that you sought not the empire. 
 Your natural modesty would not suffer you to 
 apply for a distinction to which you were always 
 entitled by the excellency of your manners. That 
 modesty, however, makes you still more worthy 
 of those honours you had no ambition to solicit. 
 Should your future government prove in any 
 
 degree answerable to your former merit, I shall 
 have reason to congratulate both your virtue and 
 my own good fortune on this great event. But if 
 otherwise, you have ‘exposed yourself to danger, 
 and me to obloquy ; for Rome will never endure 
 an emperor unworthy of her ; and the faults of 
 the scholar will be imputed to the master. Seneca 
 is reproached, and his fame still suffers, for the 
 vices of Nero ; the reputation of Quintilian is 
 hurt by the ill conduct of his scholars ; and even 
 Socrates is accused of negligence in the education 
 of Alcibiades. Of you, however, I have better 
 hopes, and flatter myself that ^rour administration 
 will do honour to your virtues. Only continue to 
 be what you are. Let your government com- 
 mence in your breast ; and lay the foundation of 
 it in the commands of your passions. If you 
 make virtue the rule of your conduct, and the end 
 of your actions, everything will proceed in har- 
 mony and order. I have explained to you the 
 spirit of those laws and constitutions that were 
 established by your predecessors ; and you have 
 nothing to do but to carry them into execution. 
 If this should be the case, I shall have the glory 
 of having formed an emperor to virtue ; but if 
 otherwise, -let this letter remain a testimony with 
 succeeding ages, that you did not ruin the Roman 
 empire under pretence of the counsels or the 
 authority of Plutarch.” 
 
 Why Dacier should think that this letter 
 is neither worthy of the pen, nor written in 
 the manner of Plutarch, it is not easy to 
 conceive : for it has all the spirit, the manly 
 freedom, and the sentimental turn of that 
 philosopher. 
 
 We shall find it no very difficult matter to 
 account for his connections with Trajan, if 
 we attend to the manner in which he lived, 
 and to the reception he met with in Rome. 
 During his residence in that city, his house 
 was the resort of the principal citizens. All 
 that were distinguished by their rank, taste, 
 learning, or politeness, sought his conver- 
 sation, and attended his lectures. The 
 study of the Greek language and philosophy 
 were, at that time, the greatest pursuits of 
 the Roman nobility, and even the emperors 
 honoured the most celebrated professors 
 with their presence and support. Plutarch, 
 in his Treatise on Curiosity, has introduced 
 a circumstance, which places the attention 
 that was paid to his lectures in a very strong 
 light. 
 
 “It once happened,” says he, “that when I 
 was speaking in public at Rome, Arulenus Rusti- 
 cus, the same whom Domitian, through envy of 
 his growing reputation, afterwards put to death, 
 was one of my hearers. When I was in the 
 middle of _my discourse, a soldier came in, and 
 brought him a letter from the emperor. Upon 
 this, there was a general silence through the audi- 
 ence, and I stopped to give him time to peruse 
 this letter ; but he would not suffer it ; nor did he 
 open the letter till I had finished my lecture and 
 the audience was dispersed.” 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 I To imderstamd tbe impoitaBce of tWs 
 compliment, it will be necessary to consider 
 the quality and character of the person who 
 . paid it Arolenns was one of the greatest 
 : men in Rome ; distinguished as well by the 
 Instre of his family, as by an hononrable 
 ambition and thirst of glory. He was tri- 
 bnne of the people when Nero cansed 
 Paetns and Soranns to be capitally con- 
 demned by a decree of the senate. When 
 Soranns was deliberating with his friends, 
 whether he shonld attempt or ghre np his 
 defence,- Amlenns had the spirit -to propose 
 an opposition to the decree of the senate, 
 in his capacity of tribune ; and he wonid 
 have carried it into ezecntion, had he not 
 been over-ruled by Paetns, who remon- 
 strated, that by snch a measnre he wonid 
 destroy himself, without the satisfaction of 
 serving his friend. He was afterwards 
 praetor after Vitellins, whose interests he 
 followed with the greatest fidelity. But 
 his spirit and magnanimity do Mm the 
 greatest honour, in that eology which he 
 wrote on P^tns and Helvidins Priscns. 
 His whole conduct was regulated by the 
 precepts of philosophy and the respect he 
 show^ to Plutarch on this occasion was a 
 proof of his attachm^t to iL Such was 
 the man who postponed the letter of a 
 prince to the lecture of a philosopher. 
 
 But Plutarch was not only treated with 
 general marks of distinction by the superior 
 people in Rome ; he had particular and very 
 respectable friendships. Sossius Senecio, 
 who was four times co'nsul, once under 
 i Nerva, and thrice under Trajan, was his 
 most intimate friend. To him he addresses 
 his Lives, except that of Aratus, which is 
 inscribed to Polycrates of Sycion, the 
 grandson of Aratus. With Senedo he not 
 only lived in the strictest friendship whilst 
 he was in Rome, but, corresponded with 
 him after he retii^ to Greece. And is it 
 not easy to believe, that through the in- 
 terest of this zealous and powerful friend, 
 Plutarch might not only be appointed tutor 
 to Trajan, but be advanced likewise to the 
 consular dignity ? WTien we consider Plu- 
 tarch’s eminence in Rome as a teacher of 
 philosophy, nothing can be more probable 
 than the former : when we remember the 
 consular interest of Senecio under Trajan, 
 and his distinguished regard for Plutarch, 
 nothing can be more fikety than the latter. 
 
 The honour of being preceptor to such 
 a virtuous prince as Trajan, is so important 
 a point in the life cf Plutarch, that it must 
 not hastily be given up. Suidas has as- 
 serted it. The letter above quoted, if it 
 be, as we have no doubt of its being, the 
 
 j| genuine composition of Plutarch, ha?; con- 
 ;j firmed it. Petirardi has maintained iL 
 Dader only has doubted, or rather denied 
 iL But upon what evidence has he 
 grounded his cpiniou? Plutarch, he says, 
 was but three or four years older than 
 Trajan, and therefore was unfit to be his 
 ii preceptor in philosophy. Now let us in- 
 quire into the force of thi?; aigumenL 
 Trajan spent the earty part of his life in 
 ,, arms : Plutarch in the study of the sdenoes. 
 WTien that prince applied himself to literary 
 ■; pursuits, he was somewhat advanced in life : ] 
 |; Plutarch must have been more so. And i 
 I; why a man of science should be an unfit 
 ' preceptor in philosophy to a militaiy man, 
 though no more than four years older, the 
 reason, we apprehend, wil be somewhat - 
 difficult to discover. 
 
 Dader, moreover, is reduced to a peiitio 
 .principiif when he says that Plutarch was ,j 
 only four years older than Trajan : for we 
 , have seen that it is impossible to ascertain 
 the time of Plutarch's birth ; and the date 
 which Dader assigns it is purety conjee- ;; 
 tural : we will therefore conclude, with ;; 
 those learned men who have formerly ■' 
 allowed Plutarch the honour cf being pre- 
 ceptor to Trajan, that he certainly was so. 
 There is little doubt that they grounded | 
 their assertions upon proper authority ; 
 and, indeed, the internal evidence arising 
 from the nature and effects that educa- 
 tion, which did honour to the scholar and 
 to the master, comes in aid cf the aigu- jj 
 ment, ;■ 
 
 Some chronologers have taken upon them 
 to ascertain the time when Plutarch's repu- 
 tation was established in Rome. Peter of 
 Alexandria fixes it in the thirteenth year !. 
 of the reign of Nero, in the consulate of ;; 
 Capito and Rufus : “ Lucian,” says he, ■! 
 “was, at this time, in great reputation ' 
 amongst the Romans ; and Musonius and ■ 
 Plutarch were weE known.” Eusebius ' 
 brings it one year lower, and tells us, that, ' 
 in the fourteenth year of Nero's reign, 
 Musonius and Plutarch were in great repu- 
 tation. Both these wiitors are palpably 
 mistaken. We have seen, that in the 
 twelfth year of Nero, Plutarch was yet at 
 school under Ammonius ; and it is not very 
 probable that a schoolboy should be cele- 
 brated as a philosopher in Rome, within a 
 year or two after. Indeed, Eusebius con- ^ 
 tradicts himself ; for, on another occasion, 
 he places him in the reign of Adrian, the 
 third year of the olympiad 224, of the 
 Christian era 120: “In this year,” says 
 he, “ the phEosophexs Plutarch of Chae- ! 
 ronea, Sextus, and Agathobulus, flourished. ” 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH, 
 
 Thus he carries him as much too low, as he 
 had before placed him top high. It is 
 certain, that he first grew into reputation 
 under the reign of Vespasian, and that his 
 philosophical fame was established in the 
 time of Trajan. 
 
 It seems that the Greek and Latin writers 
 of those times were either little acquainted 
 with each other’s works, or that there were 
 some literary jealousies and animosities 
 between them. When Plutarch flourished, 
 there were several contemporary writers 
 of distinguished abilities ; Perseus, Lucan, 
 Silius Italicus, Valerius Flaccus, the younger 
 Pliny, Solinus, Martial, Quintilian, and 
 many more. Yet none of those have made 
 the least mention of him. Was this envy ? 
 or was it Roman pride? Possibly they 
 could not bear that a Greek sophist, a 
 native of such a contemptible town as 
 Chaeronea, should enjoy the palm of lite- 
 rary praise in Rome. It must be observed, 
 at the same time, that the principal Roman 
 writers had conceived a jealousy of the 
 Greek philosophers, which was very pre- 
 vailing in that age. Of this we And a 
 strong testimony in the elder Pliny, where, 
 speaking of Cato the Censor’s disapproving 
 and dismissing the Grecian orators, and of 
 the younger Cato’s bringing in triumph a 
 sophist from Greece, he exclaims in terms 
 that signified contempt, qtianta morum 
 commutatio / 
 
 However, to be undistinguished by the 
 encomiums of contemporary writers, wa? 
 by no means a thing peculiar to Plutarch. 
 It has been, and still is, the fate of superior 
 genius, to be beheld either with silent or 
 abusive envy. It makes its way like the 
 sun, which we look upon with pain, unless 
 something passes over him that obscures 
 his glory. We then view with eagerness 
 the shadow, the cloud, or the spot, and are 
 pleased with what eclipses the brightness 
 we otherwise cannot bear. 
 
 Yet, if Plutarch, hke other great men, 
 found “ Envy never conquered but by 
 death,” his manes have been appeased by 
 the amplest atonements. Amongs't the 
 many that have done honour to his me- 
 mory, the following eulogiums deserve to 
 be recorded. 
 
 Aulus Gellius compliments him with 
 the highest distinction in science.'^ 
 
 Taurus, quoted by Gellius, calls him a 
 man of the most consummate learning and 
 wisdom, f 
 
 * A. Gellius, lib. iv. can. 7. 
 t Cell. lib. i. cap. 26. 
 
 Eusebius places him at the head of the 
 Greek philosophers.* 
 
 Sardianus, in his Preface to the Lives 
 of the Philosophers, calls him the most 
 divine Plutarch, the beauty and harmony of 
 philosophy. 
 
 Petrarch, in his moral writings, fre- 
 quently distinguishes him by the title of the 
 great Plutarch. 
 
 Honour has been done to him likewise by 
 Origen, Himerius the Sophist, Cyrillus, 
 Theodoret, Suidas, Photius, Xiphilinus, 
 Joannes, Salisberiensis, Victorius, -Lipsius, 
 and Agathias, in the epigram which is thus 
 translated by Dryden : 
 
 Chseronean Plutarch, to thy deathless praise 
 Does martial Rome this grateful statue raise ; 
 Because both Greece and she thy fame have 
 shared ; 
 
 Their heroes written, and their lives compared. 
 But thou thyself couldst never write thy own ; 
 Their lives have parallels, but thine has none. 
 
 But this is perfectly extravagant. We are 
 much better pleased with the Greek verses 
 of the honest metropolitan under Constan- 
 tine Monomachus. • They deserve to be 
 translated. 
 
 Lord of that light, that living power to save 
 Which her lost sons no Heathen Science gave ; 
 If aught of these thy mercy means to spare, 
 
 Yield Plato, Lord, — yield Plutarch to my 
 prayer. 
 
 Led by no grace, no new conversion wrought. 
 They felt thy own divinity of thought. 
 
 That grace exerted, spare the partial rod : 
 
 The last, best witness, that thou art their God ! 
 
 Theodore Gaza, who was a man of con- 
 siderable learning, and a great reviver of 
 letters, had a particular attachment to our 
 biographer. When he was asked, in case 
 of a general destruction of books, what 
 author he would wish to save from the 
 ruin, he answered Plutarch. He considered 
 his historical and philosophical writings as 
 the most beneficial to society, and, of 
 course, the best substitute for all other 
 books. 
 
 Were it necessary to produce further 
 suffrages for the merit of Plutarch, it would 
 be sufficient to say, that he has been praised 
 by Montaigne, St. Evremont and Montes- 
 quieu, the best critics and the ablest writers 
 of their time. 
 
 After receiving the most distinguished 
 honours that a philosopher could enjoy ; 
 after the godlike office of teaching wisdom 
 and goodness to the metropolis of the 
 
 * Eu^b. Praep, lib. iii. init. 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH, 
 
 world ; after ha\'ing formed an emperor to 
 virtue ; and after beholding the effects of 
 his precepts in the happiness of human- 
 kind : Plutarch retired to his native country. 
 The death of his illustrious prince and 
 pupil, to a man of his sensibility, must 
 have rendered Rome even painful : for 
 whatever influence philosophy may have on 
 the cultivation of the mind, we find that it 
 has very little power over the interests of 
 the heart. 
 
 It must have been in the decline of life 
 that Plutarch retired to Chasronea. But 
 though he withdrew from the busier scenes 
 of the world, he fled not to an unprofitable 
 or inactive sofitude. In that retirement he 
 formed the great work for which he had so 
 long been preparing materials, his Lives of 
 Illustrious Men ; a work which, as Scaliger 
 says, non solum fuit in manibus hominum, 
 at eHam humani generis inemoriam occu- 
 pavit. 
 
 To recommend by encomiums what has 
 been received with universal approbation, 
 would be superfluous. ' But to observe 
 where the biographer has excelled, and in 
 what he has failed ; to make a due estimate 
 as well of the defects as of the merits of his 
 work ; may have its use. 
 
 Lipsius has observed, that he does not 
 v.Tite history^ but scraps of history ; non 
 historiam, sed particulas historicB. This is 
 said of his Lives, and, in one sense, it is 
 true. No single life that he has written 
 \\ill afford a sufficient history of its proper 
 period ; neither was it possible that it 
 should do so. As his plan comprised a 
 number of contemporary lives, most of 
 which were in public characters, the busi- 
 ness of their period was to be divided 
 amongst them. The general history of the 
 time was to be thrown into separate por- 
 tions ; and those portions were to be al- 
 lotted to such characters as had the prin- 
 cipal interest in the several events. 
 
 This was, in some measure, done by 
 Plutarch ; but it was not done with great 
 art or accuracy. At the same time, as we 
 have already observ’ed, it is not to be 
 wondered, if there were some repetitions, 
 when the part which the several cliaracters 
 bore in the principal events, was necessary 
 to be pointed out. 
 
 Yet these scraps of history, thus dhided 
 and dispersed, when seen in a collective 
 form, make no very imperfect narrative of 
 the times within their view. Their biogra- 
 pher’s attention to the minuter circum- 
 stances of character, his disquisitions of 
 principles and manners, and his political 
 and philosophical discussions, lead us, in 
 
 an easy and intelligent manner, to the 
 events he describes. 
 
 It is not to be denied, that his narrativ’es 
 are sometimes disorderly, and too often | 
 encumbered with impertinent digressions. | 
 By pursuing with too much indulgence the I 
 train of ideas, he has frequently destroyed | 
 the order of facts, brought together events ; 
 that lay at a distance from each other, ' 
 called forward those circumstances to which ! 
 he should have made a regular progress, i 
 and made no other apolcgy for these idle | 
 excursions, but by telling us that he is out 
 of the order of time. 
 
 Notes, in the time of Plutarch, were not 
 in use. Had he known the convenience of 
 marginal writing, he would certainly have 
 thrown the greatest part of his digressions 
 into that form. They are, undoubtedly, 
 tedious and disgustful ; and all we can do 
 to reconcile ourselves to them, is to re- 
 member, that, in the first place, marginal 
 writing was a thing unknowm ; and that the 
 benevolent desire of conveying instruction, 
 was the greatest motive with the biographer 
 for introducing them. This appears, at 
 least, from the nature of tliem ; for they are 
 chiefly disquisitions in natural histor}" and 
 philosophy. 
 
 In painting the manners of men, Plutarch ! 
 is truly excellent. Nothing can be more I 
 clear than his moral distinctions ; nothing : 
 finer than his dehneations of the mind. 
 
 The spirit of philosophical observation 
 and inquiry, which, when properly directed, 
 is the great ornament and excellence of 
 historical composition, Plutarch possessed 
 in an eminent degree. His biographical 
 waitings teach philosophy at once by pre- 
 cept and by example. His morals and his 
 characters mutually explain and giye force 
 to each other. 
 
 His sentiments of the duty of a biographer i 
 were pecuharly just and delicate. This will i 
 appear from his strictures on those historians 
 who WTOte of Phihstus : — | 
 
 “It is plain,” sa>*s he, “ that Thnaeus takes ^ 
 ever}' occasion, from Philistus’s known adherence j 
 to arbitrary power, to load him with the heaviest 
 reproaches. Those whom he injured are in some j 
 degree excusable, if, in their resentment, they 
 treated him with indignities after death. But 
 wherefore should his biographers, whom he never 
 injured, and who have had the benefit of his 
 works ; wherefore should they exhibit him with 
 all the exaggerations of scurrility, in those scenes 
 of distress to which fortune sometimes reduces 
 the best of men? On the other hand, Ephorus is 
 no less extravagant in his encomiums on Phiiistus. 
 
 He knows well how to throw into shades the 
 foibles of the human character, and to give an 
 air of plausibility to the most indefensible con- 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH, 
 
 duct : but with all his elegance, with all his art, 
 he cannot rescue Philistus from the imputation of 
 being the most strenuous supporter of arbitrary 
 power, of being the fondest follower and admirer 
 of the luxury, the magnificence, the alliance of 
 tyrants. Upon the whole, he who neither defends 
 the principles of Philistus, nor insults over his 
 misfortunes, will best discharge the duties of the 
 historian.” 
 
 There is such a thing as constitutional 
 religion. There is a certain temper and 
 frame of mind naturally productive of de- 
 votion. There are men who are born with 
 the original principles of piety ; and in this 
 class we need not hesitate to place Plutarch. 
 
 If this disposition has sometimes made 
 him too indulgent to superstition, and too 
 attentive to the less rational circumstances 
 of the heathen theology, it is not to be 
 wondered. But, upon the whole, he had 
 consistent and honourable notions of the 
 Supreme Being. 
 
 That he believed the unity of the Divine 
 Nature, we have already seen, in his obser- 
 vations on the word et, engraved on Apollo’s 
 temple. The same opinion, too, is found 
 in his Treatise on the Cessation of Oracles ; 
 where, in the character of a Platonist, he 
 argues against the. Stoics, who denied the 
 plurality of worlds : — 
 
 “ If there are many worlds,” said the Stoics, 
 “why then there is only one Fate, and one 
 Providence to guide them ; for the Platonists 
 allow that there is but one. Why should not 
 many Jupiters, or Gods, be necessary for the 
 government of many worlds?” To this Plutarch 
 answers, “ Where is the necessity of supposing 
 many Jupiters for this plurality of worlds? Is 
 not one Excellent Being; endued with reason and 
 intelligence, such as He is whom we acknowledge 
 to be the Father and Lord of all things, sufficient 
 to direct and rule these worlds? If there were 
 more supreme agents, their decrees would be 
 vain, and contradictory to each other.” 
 
 But though Plutarch acknowledged the 
 individuality of the Supreme Being, he 
 believed, nevertheless, in the existence of 
 intermediate beings of an inferior order, 
 between the divine and the human nature. 
 These beings he calls genii, or demons. It 
 is impossible, he thinks, from the general 
 order and principles of creation, that there 
 should be no mean betwixt the two extremes 
 of a mortal and immortal being ; that there 
 • cannot be in nature so great a vacuum, 
 without some intermediate species of life, 
 which might in some measure partake of 
 both. And as we find the connection be- 
 tween soul and body to be made by means 
 of the animal spirits, so these demons are 
 intelligences between divinity and humanity.. 
 
 Their nature, however, is believed to be 
 progressive. At first they are supposed to 
 have been virtuous men, whose souls being 
 refined from the gross parts of their former 
 existence, are admitted into the higher order 
 of genii, and are from thence either raised 
 to a more exalted mode of etherial being, or 
 degraded to mortal forms, according to 
 their merit or their degeneracy. One order 
 of these genii, he supposes, presided over 
 oracles ; others administered, under the 
 Supreme Being, the affairs and the fortunes 
 of men, supporting the virtuous, punishing 
 the bad, and sometimes even communicating 
 with the best and purest natures. Thus the 
 genius of Socrates still warned him of 
 approaching danger, and taught him to 
 avoid it. 
 
 It is this order of beings which the late 
 Mr. Thomson, who in enthusiasm was a 
 Platonist, and in benevolence a Pythagorean, 
 has so beautifully described in his Seasons : 
 and, as if the good bard had believed the 
 doctrine, he pathetically invokes a favourite 
 spirit which had lately forsaken its former 
 mansion : — 
 
 And art thou, Stanley, of that sacred band ? 
 
 Alas ! for us too soon ! 
 
 Such were Plutarch’s religious principles ; 
 and as a proof that he thought them of 
 consequence, he entered, after his retire- 
 ment, into a sacred character, and was 
 consecrated priest of Apollo. 
 
 This was not his sole appointment, when 
 he returned to Chseronea. He united the 
 sacerdotal with the magistratial character, 
 and devoted himself at once to the service 
 of the gods, and to the duties of society. 
 He did not think that philosophy, or the 
 pursuit of letters, ought to exempt any man 
 from personal service in the community to 
 which he belonged ; and though his literary 
 labours were of the greatest importance to 
 the world, he sought no excuse in those 
 from discharging offices of public trust in 
 his little city of Chaeronea. 
 
 It appears that he passed through several 
 of these offices, and that he was at last 
 appointed archon, or chief magistrate of the 
 city. Whether he retained his super- 
 intendency of Illyria after the death of 
 Trajan, we do not certainly know : but, in 
 this humble sphere, it will be worth our 
 while to inquire in what manner a philoso- 
 pher would administer justice. 
 
 With regard to the inferior offices that he 
 bore, he looked upon them in the same 
 light as the great Epaminondas had done, 
 who, when he was appointed to a com- 
 
LIFE OF PLUJ ARCH. 
 
 mission beneath his rank, observed, that 
 no office could give dignity to him that held 
 it ; but that he who held it might give 
 dignity to any office. It is not unenter- 
 taining to hear our philosopher aiX)logise 
 for his employment, when he discharges the 
 office of commissioner of sewers and public 
 buildmgs : — 
 
 I make no doubt,” says he, ‘'that the citizens 
 of Chaeronea often smile, when they see me j 
 employed in such offices as these. On ^ch pen- 
 sions, I generally call to mind what is said of 
 Antisthenes When he was bringing home, in 
 his own hands, a dirty fish from the market, some, 
 who observed it, expressed their surprise ; ‘ It is 
 for myself,’ said Antisthenes, ' that I carry this 
 fish.’ On the contra^, for my o\vn part, when I 
 am rallied for measuring tiles, or for calculating a 
 quantity of stones or mortar, I answer, that it is 
 not for myself I do these things, but for my 
 country. For, in all things of this nature, the 
 public utility takes off the disgrace; and the 
 meaner the office you sustain may be, the greater 
 is the compliment that j^ou pay to the pubUc.” 
 
 Plutarch, in the capacity of a public 
 magistrate, was indefatigable in recommend- 
 ing unanimity to the citizens. To carry 
 this point more effectually, he lays it down 
 as a first principle, that a magistrate should 
 be affable and easy of access ; that his 
 house should always be open as a place of 
 refuge for those who sought for justice ; and 
 that he should not satisfy himself merely 
 with allotting certain hours of the day to 
 sit for the despatch of business, but that he 
 should employ a part of his time in private 
 negotiations, "in making up domestic quar- 
 rels, and reconcihng divided friends. This 
 employment he regarded as one of the 
 principal parts of his office ; and, indeed, 
 he might properly consider it in a political 
 light ; for it too frequently happens, that 
 the most dangerous pubhc factions are at 
 first kindled by private misunderstandings. 
 Thus, in one part of his works, he falls into 
 the same sentiment : — 
 
 “As public conflagrations,” says be, “do not 
 always begin in pubbe edifices, but are ca^d 
 more frequently by some lamp neglected in a 
 private house ; so in the administration of states, 
 it does not always happen that the flame of 
 sedition arises from political differences, but from 
 private dissensions, which, running through a 
 long chain of connections, at length affect the 
 whole body of the people. For this reason, it is 
 one of the principal duties of a minister of state 
 or magistrate, to heal these private animositi^, 
 and to prevent them from growing into pubhc 
 divisions.” 
 
 After these observations, he mentions 
 several states and cities which had owed 
 their ruin to the same little causes ; and 
 
 XXIX 
 
 then adds, that we ought not by any means 
 to be inattentive to the misunderstandings 
 of private men, but apply to them the most 
 timely remedies ; for, by proper care, as 
 Cato observes, what is great becomes little, 
 and what is little is reduced to nothing. Of 
 the truth of these observations, the an n als 
 of our own country, we wish we had no 
 reason to say our own times, have presented : 
 us mth many melancholy instances. | 
 
 As Plutarch observed that it was a fashion- * 
 able fault amongst men of fortime to refipe 
 a proper respect to magistrates of inferior 
 rank, he endeavoured to remove this 
 impolitic evil as well by precept as by 
 example : — 
 
 ‘‘ To learn obedience and deference to the 
 magistrate,” says he, “is one of the first and 
 best principles of discipline ; nor ought these by 
 any means to be disj^nsed with, though that ! 
 magistrate should be inferior to us in figure or in 
 fortune. For how absurd is it, if, in theatrical 
 exffibitions, the meanest actor, t^t wears a 
 momentary diadem, shall receive his due respect 
 from superior players ; and yet, in civil life, men 
 of greater x>ower or wealth shall withhold the j 
 deference that is due to the magistrate ! In this jj 
 case, however, they should remember, that while “ 
 they consult their own importance, they detract 
 from the honour of the state. Private dignity 
 ought always to give place to pubhc authority ; 
 as, in Sparta, it was usual for the kings to rise in 
 compliment to the ephori.” 
 
 With regard to Plutarch’s pohtical prin- 
 ciples, it is clear that he was, even whilst at 
 Rome, a repubhean in heart, and a friend 
 to hberty ; but this does him no peculiar 
 honour. Such privileges are the birthright 
 of mankind ; and they are never parted with 
 but through fear or favour. At Rome, he 
 acted like a philosopher of the world. 
 Quarido noi siamo in Roma, noi faciamo 
 co7tie Englino fanno in Roma. He found 
 a constitution which he had not power to 
 alter ; yet though he could not make man- 
 kind free, he made them compamtively 
 happy, by teaching clemency to their tem- 
 porary ruler. 
 
 At Chaeronea we find him more openly 
 avovsing the principles of hberty. During 
 his residence at Rome, he had remarked an 
 essent ia l error in the pohee. In all com- 
 plaints and processes, however triffing, the 
 people had recourse to the first officers of 
 state. By this means they supposed that 
 their interest woiild be promoted ; but it 
 had a certain tendency to enslave them stiU 
 more, and to render them the tools and 
 dependants of court power. Of these 
 measures the archon of Chaeronea thus 
 expresses his disapprobation: “At the 
 
XXX 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 same time,” says he, “that we endeavour 
 to render a city obedient to its magistrates, 
 we must beware of reducing it to a servile 
 or too humiliating a condition. Those who 
 carry every trifle to the cognizance of the 
 supreme magistrate, are contributing all they 
 can to the servitude of their country.” And 
 it is undoubtedly true, that the habitual and 
 universal exertion of authority has a natural 
 tendency to arbitrary dominion. 
 
 We have now considered Plutarch in the 
 light of a philosopher, a biographer, and a 
 magistrate ; we have entered into his moral, 
 religious, and political character, as well as 
 the information we could obtain would 
 enable us. It only remains that we view 
 him in the domestic sphere of life — that 
 little, but tiynng sphere, where we act 
 wholly from ourselves, and assume no 
 character but that which nature and educa- 
 cation has given us. 
 
 Dacier, on falling into this part of Plu- 
 tarch’s history, has made a whimsical obser- 
 vation. “There are two cardinal points,” 
 says he, “in a man’s life, which determine 
 his happiness or his misery. These are his 
 birth and his marriage. It is in vain for a 
 man to be born fortunate, if he be unfortu- 
 nate in his marriage.” • How Dacier could 
 reconcile the astrologers to this new doctrine, 
 it is not easy to say : for, upon this principle, 
 a man must at least have two good stars, 
 one for his birthday, the other for his 
 wedding-day ; as it seems that the influence 
 of the natal star could not extend beyond 
 the bridal morn, but that a man then falls 
 under a different dominion. 
 
 At what time Plutarch entered into this 
 state, we are not quite certain ; but as it is 
 not probable that a man of his wisdom 
 would marry at an advanced time of life, 
 and as his wife was a native of Chseronea, 
 we may conclude that he married before he 
 went to Rome. However that might be, it 
 appears that he was fortunate in his choice ; 
 for his wife was not only well-born and well- 
 bred, but a woman of distinguished sense 
 and virtue. Her name was Timoxena. 
 
 Plutarch appears to have had at least five 
 children by her, four sons, and a daughter, 
 whom, out of regard for her mother, he 
 called Timoxena. He has given us a proof 
 that he had all the tenderness of an affec- 
 tionate father for these children, by record- 
 ing a little instance of his daughter’s natural 
 benevolence. ‘ ‘ When she was very young, ’ ’ 
 says he, ‘ ‘ she would frequently beg of her 
 nurse to give the breast not only to the other 
 children, but to her babies and dolls, which 
 she considered as her dependants, and under 
 her protection.” Who does not see, in this 
 
 simple circumstance, at once the fondness 
 of the parent, and the benevolent disposition 
 of the man ? 
 
 But the philosopher soon lost his little 
 blossom of humanity. His Timoxena died 
 in her infancy ; and if we may judge from 
 the consolatory letter he wrote to her mother 
 on the occasion, he bore the loss as became 
 a philosopher. “ Consider,” said he, “that 
 death has deprived your Timoxena only of 
 small enjoyments. The things she knew 
 were but of little consequence, and she could 
 be delighted only with trifles.” In this letter 
 we find a portrait of his wife, which does her 
 the greatest honour. From the testimony 
 given by her husband, it appears that she 
 was far above the general weakness and 
 affectation of her sex. She had no passion 
 for the expensiveness of dress, or the parade 
 of public appearances. She thought every 
 kind of extravagance blamable ; and her 
 ambition went not beyond the decencies and 
 proprieties of hfe. 
 
 Plutarch had before this buried two of 
 his sons, his eldest son, and a younger, 
 named Charon ; and it appears, from the 
 above-mentioned letter, that the conduct of 
 Timoxena, on these events, was worthy the 
 wife of a philosopher. She did not disfigure 
 herself by change of apparel, or give way 
 to the extravagance of grief, as women in 
 general do on such occasions, but supported 
 the dispensations of Providence with a 
 solemn and rational submission, even when 
 they seemed to be most severe. She had 
 taken unwearied pains, and undergone the 
 greatest sufferings, to nurse her son Charon 
 at her own breast, at a time when an abscess 
 formed near the part had obliged her to 
 undergo an incision. Yet, when the child, 
 reared with so much tender pain and diffi- 
 culty, died, those who went to visit her on 
 the melancholy occasion found her house 
 in no more disorder than if nothing dis- 
 tressful had happened. She received her 
 friends as Admetus entertained Hercules, 
 who, the same day that he buried Alceste, 
 betrayed not the least confusion before his 
 heroic guest. 
 
 With a woman of so much dignity of 
 mind and excellence of disposition, a man 
 of Plutarch’s wisdom and humanity must 
 have been infinitely happy ; and, indeed, 
 it appears from those precepts of conjugal 
 happiness and affection which he has left 
 us, that he has drawn his observations from 
 experience, and that the rules he recom- 
 mended had been previously exemplified in 
 his own family. 
 
 It is said that Plutarch had some mis- 
 understanding with his wife’s relations; upon 
 
 '0^1 r 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 which Timoxena, fearing that it might aifect 
 their union, had duty and religion enough 
 to go as far as Mount Helicon and sacrifice 
 to Love, who had a celebrated temple there. 
 
 He left two sons, Plutarch and Lamprius. 
 The latter appears to have been a philoso- 
 pher, and it is to him we are indebted for a 
 catalogue of his father’s writings ; which, 
 however, one cannot look upon, as Mr. 
 Dryden says, without the same emotions 
 that a merchant must feel in perusing a bill 
 of freight after he has lost his vessel. The 
 writings no longer extant are these : — 
 
 The Lives of Hercules, Hesiod, Pindar, Crates 
 and Daiphamus, with a Parallel, Leonidas, Aris- 
 tomenes, Scipio Africanus Junior, and Metellus, 
 Augustus, Tiberius, Claudius, Nero. Caligula, 
 Vitellius, Epaminondas and the Elder Scipio, 
 with a Parahel. 
 
 Four Books of Commentaries on Homer. 
 
 Four Books of Commentaries on Hesiod. 
 
 Five Books to Empedocles, on the Quintes- 
 sence. 
 
 Five Books of Essays. 
 
 Three Books of Fables. 
 
 Three Books of Rhetoric. 
 
 Three Books on the Introduction of the Soul. 
 
 Two Books of Extracts from the Philosophers. 
 
 Three Books on Sense. 
 
 Three Books on the great Actions of Cities. 
 
 Two books on Politics. 
 
 An Essay on Opportunity, to Theophrastus. 
 
 Four Books on the Obsolete Parts of Histor5^ 
 
 Two Books of Proverbs. 
 
 Eight Books on the Topics of Aristotle. 
 
 xxxi 
 
 Three Books on Justice, to Chrysippus. 
 
 An Essay on Poetry. 
 
 A Dissertation on the Difference between the 
 Pyrrhonians and the Academicians. 
 
 A Treatise to prove that there was but one 
 Academy of Plato. 
 
 Aulus Gellius has taken a long story from 
 Taurus, about Plutarch’s method of cor- 
 recting a slave, in which there is nothing 
 more than this, that he punished him like 
 a philosopher, and gave him his discipline 
 without being out of temper. 
 
 Plutarch had a nephew named Sextus, 
 who bore a considerable reputation in the 
 world of letters, and taught the Greek 
 language and learning to Marcus Antonius. 
 The character which that philosopher has 
 given him, in his First Book of Reflections, 
 may with great propriety, be applied to his 
 uncle. “Sextus, by his example, taught 
 me mildness and humanity ; to govern my 
 house like a good father of a family ; to fall 
 into an easy and unaffected gravity of 
 manners ; to live agreebly to nature ; to 
 find out the art of discovering and prevent- 
 ing the wants of my friends ; to connive at 
 the noisy follies of the ignorant and imperti- 
 nent ; and to comply with the understand- 
 ings and the humours of men. ” 
 
 One of the rewards of philosophy is long 
 life ; and it is clear that Plutarch enjoyed 
 this ; but of the time, or the circumstances 
 of his death, we have no satisfactory account. 
 
I 
 
 i 
 
 ■■i 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 As geographers thrust into the extremities of 
 their maps those countries that are unknown to 
 them, remarking at the same time, that all beyond 
 is hills of sand and haunts of wild beasts, frozen 
 seas, marshes, and mountains that are inaccessible 
 to human courage or industry ; so, in comparing 
 the lives of illustrious men, when ^ I have passed 
 through those periods of time which may be de- 
 scribed with probability, and where history may 
 find firm footing in facts, 1 may say, my Senecio,* 
 of the remoter ages, that all beyond is full of 
 prodigy and fiction, the regions of poets and 
 fabulists, wrapped in clouds, and unworthy of 
 belief.f Yet since I had given an account of 
 Lycurgus and Numa, I thought I might without 
 impropriety ascend to Romulus, _ as I had ap- 
 proached his times. But considering 
 
 Who, for the palm, in contest high shall join ? 
 
 Or who in equal ranks shall stand ? 
 
 (as iEschylus expresses it) it appeared to me, 
 that he who peopled the beautiful and famed city 
 of Athens, might be best contrasted and com- 
 pared with the father of the magnificent and in- 
 vincible Rome. Permit us then to take from 
 Fable her extravagance, and make her yield to, 
 and accept the form of. History : but where she 
 obstinately despises probability, and refuses to 
 mix with what is credible, we must implore the 
 candour of our readers, and their kind allowance 
 for the tales of Antiquity. 
 
 Theseus, then, appeared to answer to Romulus 
 in many particulars. Both were of uncertain 
 parentage, born out of wedlock ; and both had 
 the repute of being sprung from the gods. Both 
 stood in the first rank of warriors ; for both had 
 great powers of mind, with great strength of 
 body. One was the founder of Rome, and one 
 peopled Athens, the most illustrious cities in the 
 world. Both carried off women by violence. 
 Both were involved in domestic miseries, and 
 exposed to family resentment : X and both, towards 
 
 * Sossius Senecio, a man of consular dignity, 
 who flourished under Nerva and Trajan, and to 
 whom Pliny addre.ssed some of his Epistles ; not 
 the Senecio put to death by Domitian. 
 
 t The wild fictions of the fabulous ages may 
 partly be accounted for from the genius of the 
 writers, who (as Plutarch observes) were chiefly 
 poets ; and partly from an affectation of ^ some- 
 thing extraordinary or preternatural in antiquity, 
 which has generally prevailed, both in nations 
 and families. 
 
 t ovderepo^ Svaryxiav irepi ra oUeia Kal 
 v€p,€<riv ey'yeurj diecpvyev. 
 
 the end of their lives, are said to have_ offended 
 their respective citizens, if we may believe what 
 seems to be delivered with the least mixture of 
 poetical fiction. 
 
 The lineage of Theseus, by his father’s side, 
 stretches to Erectheus and the first inhabitants of 
 his country by his mother’s side to Pelops,‘f* 
 who was the most powerful of all the Pelopon- 
 nesian kings, not only on account of his great 
 opulence, but the number of his children ; for he 
 married his daughters to persons of the first 
 dignity, and found means to place his sons at the 
 head of the chief states. One of them named 
 Pittheus, grandfather to Theseus, founded the 
 small city of Troezene, and was esteemed the 
 most learned and the wisest man of his age. 
 The essence of the wisdom of those days con- 
 sisted in such moral sentences as Hesiod X is 
 celebrated for in his Book of Works. One of 
 these is ascribed to Pittheus : 
 
 Blast not the hope which friendship has con- 
 ceived. 
 
 But fill its measure high. 
 
 This is confirmed by Aristotle : and Euripides, 
 in saying that Hippolytus was taught by “the 
 sage and venerable Pittheus,” gives him a very 
 honourable testimony. 
 
 * Theseus was the sixth in descent from Erec- 
 theus, or Ericthonius, said to be the son of Vulcan 
 and Minerva, or Cranae, granddaughter of 
 Cranaus, the second king of Athens ; so that 
 Plutarch very justly says, that Theseus was 
 descended from the Autocthones, or first in- 
 habitants of Attica, who were so called because 
 they pretended to be born in that very country. 
 It is generally allowed, however, that this king- 
 dom was founded by Cecrops, an Egyptian, who 
 brought hither a colony of Saites, about the year 
 of the world 2448, before^ Christ 1556. The in- 
 habitants of Attica were indeed a more ancient 
 people than those of many other districts of 
 Greece, which being of a more fertile soil, often 
 changed their masters, while few were ambitious 
 of settling in a barren country. 
 
 t Pelops was the son of Tantalus, and of 
 Phrygian extraction. He carried with him im- 
 mense riches into Peloponnesus, which he had 
 dug out of the mines of Mount Sypilus. By 
 means of this wealth, he got the government of 
 the most considerable towns for his sons, and 
 married his daughters to princes. 
 
 X Hesiod flourished about 500 years after 
 Pittheus. Solomon wrote his Moral Sentences 
 200 or 300 years after Pittheus. 
 
 B 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 iEgeus, wanting to have children, is said to 
 have received, from the Oracle at Delphi, that 
 celebrated answer, which commanded him not 
 to approach any woman before he returned ^ to 
 Athens. But as the Oracle seemed not to give 
 him clear instruction, he came to Troezene, and 
 communicated it to Pittheus in the following 
 terms : — 
 
 The mystic vessel shall untouch’d remain, 
 
 Till in thy native realm 
 
 It is uncertain what Pittheus saw in this Oracle. 
 However, either by persuasion or deceit, he drew 
 ./Egeus into conversation with his daughter iSthra. 
 iEgeus afterwards coming to know that she whom 
 he had lain with was Pittheus’s daughter, and 
 suspecting her to be with child, hid a sword and 
 a pair of sandals under a large stone, which had 
 a cavity for the puipose. Before his departure, 
 he told the secret to the princess only, and left 
 orders, that if she brought forth a son, who, when 
 he came to a man’s estate, should be _ able to 
 remove the stone, and take away the things left 
 under it, she should send him with these tokens 
 to him, with all imaginable privacy ; for he was 
 very much afraid that some plot would be formed 
 against him by the Pallantidae, who despised him 
 for his want of children. These were fifty brothers, 
 the sons of Pallas.* 
 
 yEthra was delivered of a son ; and some say 
 he was immediately named Theseus, t because of 
 the laying up of the tokens J others, that he re- 
 ceived his name afterwards at Athens, when 
 iEgeus acknowledged him for his son. He was 
 brought up by Pittheus, and had a tutor named 
 Connidas, to whom the Athenians, even in our 
 times, sacrifice a ram, on the day preceding the 
 Thesean Feasts, giving this honour to his memory 
 upon a much juster account than that which they 
 pay to Silanion and Parrhasius, who only made 
 statues and pictures of Theseus. 
 
 As it was then the custom for such as had 
 arrived at man’s estate, to go to Delphi to offer 
 the first-fruits of their hair to Apollo, Theseus 
 went thither, and the place where this ceremony 
 is performed, from him, is said to be yet called 
 Thesea. He shaved, however, only the fore part 
 of his head, as Homer tells us the Abantes did ; % 
 and this kind of tonsure, on his account, was 
 called Theseis. The Abantes first cut their hair 
 in this manner, not in imitation of the Arabians, 
 as some imagine, nor yet of the Mysians, but 
 because they were a warlike people, who loved 
 
 * Pallas was brother to .®geus ; and as ^Egeus 
 was supposed to have no children, the Pallantidse 
 considered the kingdom of Athens as their un- 
 doubted inheritance. It was natural, therefore, 
 for iEgeus to conclude, that, if they.came to know 
 he had a son, they would attempt to assassinate 
 either him or his son. 
 
 t The Greeks, as well as the Hebrews, gave 
 names both to persons and. things from some 
 event or circumstance attending that which they 
 Vv’^ere to name. The Greek word Thesis signifies 
 laying upy and thesthai uion, to acknowledge^ or 
 rather to adopt a son. iEgeus did both ; the 
 ceremony of adoption being necessary to enable 
 Theseus, who was not a legitimate son, to inherit 
 the crown. 
 
 t The Abantes were the inhabitants of Euboea, 
 but originally of Abae, a town in Thrace. 
 
 close fighting, and were more expert in it than 
 any other nation. Thus Archilocus : * 
 
 These twang not bows, nor sling the hissing stone. 
 When Mars exults, and fields with armies groan : 
 Far nobler skill Euboea’s sons display. 
 
 And with the thundering sword decide the fray. 
 
 That they might not, therefore, give ad- 
 vantage to their enemies by their hair, they took 
 care to cut it off. And we are informed that 
 Alexander of Macedon,^ having made the same 
 observation, ordered his Macedonian troops to 
 cut off their beards, these being a ready handle 
 in battle. 
 
 For some time iEthra declared not the real 
 father of Theseus ; but the report propagated by 
 Pittheus was, that he was the son of Neptune : 
 for the Troezenians principally worship that god ; 
 he is the patron of their city ; to him they offer 
 their first-fruits ; ^ and their money bears the 
 impression of a trident. Theseus, in his youth, 
 discovering not only great strength of body, but 
 firmness and solidity of mind, together with a 
 large share of understanding and prudence, 
 iEthra led him to the stone, and having told him 
 the truth concerning his origin, ordered him to 
 take up his father’s tokens, and sail to Athens. He 
 easily removed the stone, but refused to go by 
 sea, though he might have done it with great 
 safety, and though he was pressed to it by the 
 entreaties of his grandfather and his mother; 
 while it was hazardous, at that time, to go by 
 land to Athens, because no part was free from 
 the danger of ruffians and robbers. Those times, 
 indeed, produced men of strong and indefatigable 
 powers of body, of extraordinary swiftness and 
 agility ; but they applied those powers to nothing 
 just or useful. On the contrary, their genius, 
 their disposition, their pleasures, tended only to 
 insolence, to violence, and to rapine. As for 
 modesty, justice, equity, and humanity, they 
 looked upon them as qualities in which those who 
 had it in their power to add to their possessions, 
 had no manner of concern ; _ virtues praised only 
 by such as were afraid of being injured, and who 
 abstained from injuring others out of the same 
 principle of fear. Some of these^ ruffians were 
 cut off by Hercules in his jjeregrinations, while 
 others escaped to their lurking holes, and were 
 spared by the hero in contempt of their cowardice. 
 But when Hercules had unfortunately killed 
 Iphitus, he retired to Lydia, where, for a long 
 time, he was a slave to Omphale,t a punishment 
 which he imposed upon himself for the murder. 
 The Lydians then enjoyed great qmet and se- 
 curity ; but in Greece the same kind of enormities 
 broke out anew, there being no one to restrain 
 or quell them. It was therefore extremely 
 dangerous to travel by land from Peloponnesus 
 to Athens; and Pittheus, acquainting Theseus 
 
 * Archilochus was a Greek poet, who lived 
 about the time of Romulus. Homer had given 
 the same account of the Abantes above 300 years 
 before. For, in the second book of the Iliad, he 
 tells us, the Abantes pierced the breastplates of 
 their enemies with extended spears or pikes ; that 
 is to say, they fought hand to hand. 
 
 t Those who had been guilty of murder became 
 voluntary exiles, and imposed on themselves a 
 certain penance, which^ they continued till they 
 thought their crime expiated. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 with the number of these ruffians, and with their 
 cruel treatment of strangers, advised him to go by 
 sea- But he had long been secretly fired with 
 the glory of Hercules, whom he held in the 
 highest esteem, listening with great attention to 
 such as related his achievements, pa^cularly to 
 those that had seen him, conversed with him, and 
 had been witnesses to his prowess. He was 
 affected in the same manner asThemistocles after- 
 wards was, when he declared that the trophies of 
 Miltiades would not suffer him to sleep. The 
 virtues of Herc^es were his dream by night, and 
 by day emulation led him out and spurred him 
 on to perform some exploits like his. Besides, 
 they were nearly related, being bom of cdtisin- 
 germans ; for .^Ethra was the daughter of Pittheus 
 and Alcmena of Lysidice, and Pittheus and 
 Lysidice were brother and sister by Pelops and 
 Hippodamia. He considered it, therefore, as 
 an insupportable dishonour, that Hercules should 
 traverse both sea and land to clear them of these 
 villains, while he himself declined such adventures 
 as occurred to him ; disgracing his reputed ^her, 
 if he took his voyage, or rather flight, by sea ; 
 and carrying to hjs real father a pair of sandals 
 and a sword unstained with blood, instead of the 
 ornament of great and good actions, to assert and 
 add lustre to his noble birth. With such thoughts 
 and resolutions as these he set forward, deter- 
 mined to injure no one, but to take vengeance of 
 such as should offer him any %dolence. 
 
 He was first attacked by Periphetes, in Epi- 
 daiuia, whose weapon was a club, and who, on 
 that account, was (^Ued Corynetes, or the Club- 
 bearer. He engaged with him, and slew him. 
 Delighted with the club, he took it for his weapon, 
 and used it as Hercules did the lion’s skin. The 
 skin v. as a proof of the vast size of the wild beast 
 which that hero had slain ; and Theseus carried 
 about with him this club, whose stroke he had 
 ^en able to parry, but which, in his hand, was 
 irresistible. In_ the Isthmus he slew Sinais the 
 Pine-bender,* in the same manner as he had 
 destroyed many others : and this he did, not as 
 having learned or practised the bending of those 
 trees, but to show that natural strength is above 
 ail art, Sinnis had a daughter remarkable for 
 her beauty and stature, named Perigune, who had 
 concealed herself when her father was killed, 
 Theseus made diligent search for her, and found, 
 at last, that she had retired into a place over- ] 
 grown with shrubs, and rushes, and \^d aspara- j 
 In her childish simplicity she addressed ] 
 her prayers and vows to these plants and bushes, 
 ^ if they could have a sense of her misfortune, ' 
 promising, if they would save and hide her, that ! 
 she would never bum or destroy them. But when j 
 Theseus pledged his honour for treating her i 
 politely, she came to him, and in due time i 
 brought him a son named Melanippus. After- i 
 wards, by Theseus’ permission, she married | 
 Deloneus, the son of Eurytus the CEchalian. 
 Melanippus had a son immeii loxus, who joined 
 with Oraytus in planting a colony' in Caria : 
 whence the loxides ; with whom it is an inviolable 
 rule, not to bum either rushes or wild asparagus, 
 but to honour and worship them. 
 
 About this time Crommyon was infested by a 
 wild sow named Phaea, a fierce and formidable 
 cr^ture. This savage he attacked and killed,* 
 going out of his way to engage her, and thereby 
 showing an act of voluntary valour : for he 
 believed it equally became a brave man to stand 
 upon his defence against abandoned mffians, and 
 to seek out, and begin the combat with strong 
 and savage animals. But some say, that Phma 
 was an abandoned female robber, who dwelt in 
 Crommyon, that she had the name of Sow from 
 her life and maimers ; and was aftenvards slain 
 by Theseus. 
 
 On the borders of Megara he destroyed Sciron, 
 a robber, by casting him headlong from a preci- 
 pice, ^ the story generally goes : and it is added, 
 that, in w^anton villainy, this Sciron used to make 
 strangers w'ash his feet, ^d to take those oppor- 
 tumties to push them into the sea. But the 
 writers of Megara, in contradiction to this report, 
 and, as Simonides expresses it, fighting with all 
 antiquity', assert, that Sciron was neither a robber 
 nor a mffian, but, on the contrary, a destroyer of 
 robbers, and a man whose heart and house were 
 ever open to the good and the honest. For 
 JE-acus, say they, was looked upon as the justest 
 man in Greece, Cychrens of Salamis had divine 
 honours paid him at Athens, and the virtue of 
 Peleus and Teiemon too wras universally kno wn. 
 Now Sciron was son-in-law to Cychreus, father- 
 in-law to iEacus, and grandfather to Peleus and 
 Teiemon, who tvere both of them sons of Endeis, 
 the daughter of Sciron and Chaiido : therefore 
 it was not probable that the best of men should 
 tnake such alliances with one of so vile a charae- 
 ter, giving and receiving the greatest and dearest 
 pledges. Besides, they tell us, that Theseus did 
 not slay Sciron in his fij^t journey to Athens, but 
 afterw'^ds, when he took Eleusis from the Me- 
 garensians, having expelled Diodes, its chief 
 magistrate, by a stratogem. In such contradic- 
 tions are these things involved. 
 
 At Eleusis he engaged in wrrestling with Cer- 
 cyoa the Arcadian, and kilied him on the spot. 
 Proceeding to Hennione,t he put a period to the 
 cruelties of Damastes, sumamed Procrustes, 
 making his body fit the size of his owm beds, as 
 he had ^rved strangers. These things he did 
 in imitation of Hercules, who always returned 
 upon the aggressors the same sort of treatment 
 which they intended for him; for that hero 
 sacrificed Busiris, killed Aatseus in wrestling, 
 Cygnus in single combat, and broke the skull 
 of Teimerus ; whence this is called the Termerian 
 mischief; for Tennerus, it seems, destroy*ed the 
 pas^ngers he met, by dashing his head against 
 theip. Thus Theseus pursued his travels to 
 punish abandoned wretches, who suffered the 
 same kind of death from him that they inflicted 
 on others, and were requited with vengeance 
 suitable to their crimes. 
 
 * Sinnis was so called, from bi^ bending the 
 heads of two pines, and tying passengers between 
 ^ the opposite branches, which, by their sudden 
 return, tore them to pieces. 
 
 * In this instance our hero deviated from the 
 principle he set out upon, which was, never to be 
 the aggressor in any engagement. The wild sow 
 was certainly no less respectable an animal than 
 the pine-bender. 
 
 t This seems to be a mistake ; for we know of 
 no place called Hannione, or Hermione, between 
 Eleusis and Athens. Pausanias calls it Erione ; 
 and the authors of the Universal History, after 
 Philochonis, call it Tennione. 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 In his progress, he came to Cephisus, \yhere 
 he was first saluted by some of the Phytalidse,* 
 Upon his desire to have the customary purifica- 
 tions, they gave him them in due fom, and 
 having offered propitiatory sacrifices, invited him 
 to their houses. This was the first hospitable 
 j treatment he met with on the road.^ He is said 
 to have arrived at Athens on the eighth day of 
 the month Cronius, which now they call Heca- 
 I tomboeon [July]. There he found the state full 
 of troubles and distraction, and the family of 
 yEgeus in great disorder : for Medea, who had 
 fied from Corinth, promised by her art to enable 
 iEgeus to have children, and was admitted to 
 his bed. She first discovering Theseus, whom 
 as yet iEgeus did not know, persuaded him, now 
 in years, and full of jealousies and suspicions, on 
 account of the faction that prevailed in the city, 
 to prepare an entertainment for him as a stranger, 
 and take him off by poison. Theseus, coming 
 to the banquet, did not intend to declare himself 
 at fct, but, willing to give his father occasion to 
 find him out, when the meat was served up, he 
 drew his sword, f as if he designed to carve with 
 it, and took care it should attract his notice. 
 jEgeus quickly perceiving it, dashed dovTi the 
 CUD of poison, and after some questions, embraced 
 him as Ms son : then assembling the people, he 
 acknowledged him also before them, who received 
 him with great satisfaction on account of his 
 valour. The cup is said to have fallen, and the 
 poison to have been spilt, where the inclosure now 
 is, in the place called Delphinium ; for there it 
 was that iEgeus dwelt ; and the Mercury which 
 stands on the east side of the temple, is yet 
 called the Mercury of iEgeus’s gate. 
 
 The Pallantidm, who hoped to recover the 
 kingdom if iEgeus died childless, lost all patience 
 when Theseus was declared his successor. Ex- 
 asperated at the thought that iEgeus, who was 
 not in the least allied to the Erecthidse, but only 
 adopted by Pandion,t should first gain the crown, 
 and aftenvards Theseus, who was an emigrant 
 and a stranger, they prepared for war; and 
 dividing their forces, one party marched openly, 
 with their father, from Sphettus to the city; 
 and the other, concealing themselves in Garget- 
 tus, lay in ambush, with a design to attack the 
 enemy from two several quarters. They had 
 with them an herald named Leos, of the tribe of 
 Agnus. This man carried to Theseus an account 
 all the designs of the Pallantidse : and he 
 
 These were the descendants of Ph3rtalus with 
 whom Ceres entrusted the superintendence of her 
 holy mysteries, in recompence for the hospitality 
 with which she had been treated at his house. 
 Theseus thought himself unfit to be admitted to 
 those mysteries without expiation, because he 
 had dipped his hands in blood, though it was 
 only that of thieves and robbers. 
 
 t Some needless learning has been adduced to 
 show, that in the heroic times they carved with 
 a cutlass or large knife, and not with a sword ; 
 and that consequently Plutarch here must cer- 
 tainly be mistaken ; but as fxa%aipa signifies 
 either a cutlass or a sword, how do we know 
 that it w'as a sword, and not a cutlass, which 
 iEgeus hid under a stone? 
 
 t It had not been actually reported, that 
 iEgeus was not the son of Pandion, but of 
 Scyrias. 
 
 immediately fell upon those that lay in ambush, 
 and destroyed them. Pallas and his company 
 being informed of this, thought fit to disperse. 
 Hence it is said to be, that the tribe of Pallene 
 never intermarry with the Agnusians, nor suffer 
 any proclamation to begin with these words, 
 
 “ Akouete Leos,” (“Hear, O ye people ! ”) for they 
 hate the very name of Leos, on account of the 
 treachery of that herald. 
 
 Theseus, desirous to keep himself in action, 
 and at the same time courting the favour of 
 the people, went against the Marathpnian_ bull, 
 which did no small mischief to the inhabitants 
 of Tetrapolis. When he had taken him, he 
 brought him alive in triumph through the city, 
 and afterwards sacrificed him to the Delphinian 
 Apollo. Hecale also, and the story of her re- 
 ceiving and entertaining Theseus, does not appear 
 destitute of all foundation ; for the people in that 
 neighbourhood assemble to perform the Hecale- 
 sian rites to Jupiter Hecalus : they honour Hecale 
 too, calling her by the diminutive, Hacalene, 
 because w&n she entertained Theseus, while he 
 was but a youth, she caressed him as persons in 
 years use to do children, and called him by such 
 tender diminutive names. She vowed, moreover, 
 when he went to battle, to offer sacrifices to 
 Jupiter, if he returned safe; but as she died 
 before the end of the expedition, Theseus per- 
 formed those holy rites in testimony of the grate- 
 ful sense he had of her hospitality. So Philo- 
 chorus relates the story.* 
 
 Not long after, there came the third time, from 
 Crete, the collectors of the tribute, exacted on 
 the following occasion. Androgeousf being 
 treacherously slain in Attica,, a very fatal war 
 was carried on against that country by Minos, 
 and divine vengeance laid it waste ; for it was 
 visited by famine and pestilence, and want of 
 ivater increased their misery. The remedy that 
 Apollo proposed was, that they should appease 
 Minos, and be reconciled to him ; whereupon the 
 MTath of Heaven would cease, and their calami- 
 ties come to a period. In consequence of this, 
 they sent ambassadors with their submission; 
 and, as most writers agree, engaged themselves 
 by treaty, to send every ninth year a tribute of 
 seven young men and as many virgins. When 
 these were brought into Crete, the fabulous 
 account informs us, that they were destroyed by 
 the Minotaur % in the Labyrinth, or that, lost in 
 its mazes, and unable to find the way out, they 
 perished there. The hlinotaur was, as Euripides 
 tells us, 
 
 A mingled form, prodigious to behold, 
 
 Half bull, half man ! 
 
 * Philochorus was an Athenian historian, who 
 flourished in the reign of Ptolomy Philopater, 
 about 200 years before. the birth of our Saviour. 
 He wrote many valuable pieces, of which nothing 
 remains, but some fragments preserved by other 
 
 Some say iEgeus caused him to be murdered, 
 because he was in the interest of the Pallantidse ; 
 others, that he was killed by the Marathonian 
 bull. 
 
 X Feigned by the poets to have been begot by 
 a bull upon Pasiphae, Minos’s queen, who was 
 inspired, it seems, with this horrid passion by 
 Neptune, in revenge for Minos’s refusing him a 
 beautiful bull, which he expected as an offering. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 5 
 
 But Philochonis says the Cretans deny this, and 
 will not allow the labyrinth to have been any- 
 thing but a prison, which had no other incon- 
 venience than this, that those who w’ere confined 
 there could not escape ; And Minos having in- 
 stituted games in honour of Androgeus, the prize 
 for the victors was those youths, who had been 
 kept till that time in the labyrinth. He that 
 first won the prizes in those games, was a person 
 of great authority in the court of Minos, and 
 general of his armies, named Taurus, who, being 
 unmerciful and savage in his nature, had treated 
 the Athenian youths with great insolence and 
 cruelty. And it is plain that Aristotle himself, 
 in his account of the Bottioean Government, does 
 not suppose that the young men were put to death 
 by hlinos, but that they lived, some of them to 
 old age, in servile employments in Crete. He 
 adds, that the Cretans, in pursuance of an ancient 
 VOW’, once sent a number of their first-born to 
 Delphi, among whom w’ere some of the descend- 
 ants of these Athenian slaves, who, not being 
 able to support themselves there, first passed 
 from thence into Italy, where they settled about 
 Japygia; and from thence they removed again 
 into Thrace, and were called Bottioeans. Where- 
 fore the Bottioean virgins, in some solemnities of 
 rehgion, sing, “To Athens let us go.” ^ And, in- 
 deed, it seems dangerous to be at enmity with a 
 city which is the seat of eloquence and learning : 
 For Minos was always satirized on the Athenian 
 stage ; nor was his fame sufficiently rescued by 
 Hesiod’s calling him “ Supreme of Kings,” or 
 Homer’s saying that he “ conversed with Jove ; ” 
 for the writers of tragedy prevailing, represented 
 him as a man of vicious character,* violent, and 
 implacable ; yet, inconsistently enough, they say 
 I that IMinos was a king and a lawgiver, and that 
 ' Rhadamanthus was an upright judge, and 
 guardian of the laws which hlinos had made. 
 
 , When the time of the third tribute came, and 
 : those parents w’ho had sons not arrived at full 
 maturity were obliged to resign them to the lot, 
 complaints against iFgeus sprung up again among 
 the people, who expressed their grief and resent- 
 ment, ffiat he, who was the cause^ of all their 
 ; misfortunes, bore no part of the punishment, and 
 while he was adopting, and raising to the suc- 
 cession, a stranger of spurious birth, took no 
 thought for them who lost their legitimate 
 children. Those things were matter of great 
 concern to Theseus, who, to express his regard 
 for justice, and take his share in the common 
 fortune, voluntarily offered himself as one of the 
 I seven, without lot. The citizens were charmed 
 I with this proof of his magnanimity and public 
 spirit ; and iEgeus himself, when he saw that no 
 entreaties or persuasions availed to turn him from 
 it, gave out the lots for the rest of the young men. 
 But Hellanicus says, that the youths and virgins 
 which the city furnished were not chosen by lot, 
 but that Minos came in person and selected them, 
 and Theseus before the rest, upon these condi- 
 tions ; That the Athenians should furnish a 
 vessel, and the young men embark and sail along 
 
 * This is a mistake, into which Plutarch and 
 several other wnriters have fallen. There were 
 two of the name of Minos. One was the son of 
 Jupiter and Europa, and a just and excellent 
 prince ; the other, his grandson, and son of 
 Lycaster, was a t^Tant. 
 
 with him, but carry no arms ; and that if they 
 could kill the hlinotaur, there should be an end 
 of the tribute. There appearing no hopes of 
 safety for the youths in the two former tributes, 
 they sent out a ship with a black sail, as canydng 
 them to certain ruin. But when Theseus en- 
 couraged his father by his confidence of success 
 against the Minotaur, he gave another sml, a 
 white one, to the pilot, ordering him, if he 
 brought Theseus safe back, to hoist the white ; 
 but if not, to sail with the black one in token of 
 his misfortune. Simonides, however, tells us, 
 that it was not a white sail which iEgeus gave, 
 but a scarlet one, dyed with the juice of the 
 flower of a very floturishijig holm-oak,* and that 
 this was to be the signal that all was weU. He 
 adds, that Phereclus. the son of Amarsyas, was 
 pilot of the ship : but Philochonis says, that 
 Theseus had a pilot sent him by Sciras, from 
 Salamis, named Nausitheus, and one Phaeax to 
 be at the prow, because as yet the Athenians had 
 not applied themselves to navigation ; f and that 
 Sciras did this, because one of the young men, 
 named Menesthes, was his daughter’s son. ^ This 
 is confirmed by the monuments of Nausitheus 
 and Phseax, built by Theseus, at Phalerum, near 
 the Temple of Sciron ; and the feast called 
 Cybemesia, or the Pilot’s Feast, is said to be kept 
 in honour of them. 
 
 \Vhen the lots were cast, Theseus taking with 
 him, out of the Prytaneum, those upon whom 
 they fell, went to the Delphinian temple, and 
 made an offering to Apollo for them. This offer- 
 ing was a branch of consecrated olive, bound 
 about with white wool. Having paid his devo- 
 tions, he embarked on the sixth _ of April ; at 
 which time they still send the virgins to Delphi- 
 nium to propitiate the God. It is reported that 
 the oracle at Delphi commanded him to take 
 Venus for his guide, and entreat her to be his 
 companion in the voyage ; and whilst he ^ sacri- 
 ficed to her a she goat on the sea-shore, its sex 
 was immediately changed: hence the goddess 
 had the name of Epitragia. 
 
 When he arrived in Crete, according to most 
 historians and poets, Ariadne, failing in love 
 with him, gave him a clue of tffiead, and in- 
 structed bim how to pass with it through the 
 intricacies of the labyrinth. Thus assisted, he 
 killed the Minotaur, and then set sail, carrying 
 off Ariadne, together wth the young men. 
 Pherecydes says, that Theseus broke up the 
 keels of the Cretan ships, to prevent their pur- 
 suit. But, as Demon has it, he killed Taurus, 
 Minos’s commander, who engaged him in the 
 harbour, just as he was ready to sail out. Again, 
 according to Philochorus, when iNIinos celebrated 
 the games in honour of his son, it wms believed 
 that Taurus would bear away the prizes in them 
 as formerly, and every one grudged him that 
 honour ; for his excessive power and haughty 
 behaviour were intolerable ; and, besides, he w’as 
 
 * It is not the flower, but the fruit of the Ilex, 
 full of little worms, which the Arabians call 
 kermes, from which a scarlet dye is procured. 
 
 f The Athenians, according to Homer, sent 
 fifty ships to Troy ; but those were only tran- 
 sport ships. Thucydides assures us, that they 
 did not begin to make any figure at sea till ten 
 or twelve years after the battle of Marathon, 
 near 700 years after the siege of Troy. 
 
accused of too great a familiarity with Pasiphae : 
 therefore, when Theseus desired the combat, 
 Minos permitted it. In Crete it was the custom 
 for the women as well as the men to see the 
 games ; and Ariadne, being present, \yas struck 
 with the pei-son of Theseus, and with his superior 
 vigour and address in the wrestling-ring. Minos 
 too was greatly delighted, especially when he 
 saw Taurus vanquished and disgraced ; and this 
 induced him to give up the young^men to 
 Theseus, and to remit the tribute. Clidemus, 
 beginning higher, gives a prolix account of these 
 matters, according to his manner. There was, 
 it seems, a decree throughout all Greece, that no 
 vessel should sail with more than five hands, 
 except the Argo, commanded by Jason, who was 
 appointed to clear the sea of pirates. But when 
 Dtedalus escaped by sea to Athens, Minos pur- 
 suing him with his men of war, contrary to the 
 decree, was driven by a storm to Sicily, and there 
 ended his life. And when Deucalion his suc- 
 cessor, pursuing his father’s quarrels with jhe 
 Athenians, demanded that they should deliver 
 up Dsedalus, and threatened, if they did not, to 
 make away with the hostages that Minos had 
 received, 'Pheseus gave him a mild answer, 
 alleging that Daedalus was his relation, nearly 
 allied in blood, being son to Merope the daughter 
 of Erectheus. But privately he prepared a fleet, 
 part of it among the Thymcetadae, at a distance 
 from any public road, and part under the direc- 
 tion of Pittheus, at Troezene. When it was ready, 
 he set sail, taking Daedalus, and the rest of 
 the fugitives from Crete, for^ his guide. The 
 Cretans received no information of the matter, 
 and, when they saw his fleet, taking them for 
 friends, he easily gained the harbour, and mak- 
 ing a descent, proceeded immediately to Gnossus. 
 There he engaged with Deucalion amd his guards, 
 before the gates of the labyrinth, and slew them. 
 The government, by this means, falling to 
 Ariadne, he entered into an agreement with her, 
 by which he received the young captives, and 
 made a perpetual league between the Athenians 
 and the Cretans, both sides swearing to proceed 
 to hostilities no more. 
 
 There are many other reports about these 
 things, and as many concerning Ariadne, but 
 none of any certainty. For some say, that being 
 deserted by Theseus, she hanged herself ; others, 
 that she was carried by the mariners to Naxos, 
 and there married Onarus the priest of Bacchus, 
 Theseus having left her for another mistress : 
 
 For iEgle’s charms had pierced the hero’s heart. 
 Whereas the Megarensian tells us, that Pisis- 
 tratus struck the line out of Hesiod ; as, on the 
 contrary, to gratify the Athenians, he added this 
 other to Homer’s description of the state of the 
 dead : 
 
 The godlike Theseus and the great Pirithous. 
 
 Some say Ariadne had two sons by Theseus, 
 CEnopion and Staphylus. ' With these agrees Ion 
 of Chios, who says of his native city, that it was 
 built by CEnopion, the son of Theseus. 
 
 But the most striking passages of the poets, 
 relative to these things, are ip everybody’s mouth. 
 Something more particular is delivered by Paeon 
 the Amathusian. He relates, that Theseus, being 
 driven by a storm to Cyprus, and having with 
 him Ariadne, who was big with child, and ex- 
 tremely discomposed with the agitation of the 
 
 sea, he set her on shore, and left her alone, while 
 he returned to take care of the ship ; but by a 
 violent wind was forced out again to sea ; that the 
 women of the country received Ariadne kindly, 
 consoled her under her loss, and brought her 
 feigned letters as from Theseus : that they at- 
 tended and assisted her, when she fell in labour ; 
 and, as she died in childbed, paid her the funeral 
 honours : that Theseus, on his return, greatly 
 afflicted at the news, left money with the inhabi- 
 tants, ordering them to pay divine honours to 
 Ariadne ; and that he caused two little statues of 
 her to be made, one of silver, and the other of 
 brass : that they celebrate her festival on the 
 second of September, when a young man lies 
 down, and imitates the cries and gesture of a 
 woman in travail : and that the Amathu.sians call 
 the grove in which they show her tomb, the Grove 
 of Venus Ariadne. 
 
 Some of the Naxian writers relate, that there 
 were two Minos, and two Ariadnes ; one whom 
 was married to Bacchus in Naxos, and had a son 
 named Staphylus ; the other, of a later age, being 
 carried off by Theseus, and afterwards deserted, 
 came to Naxos, with her nurse Corcyne, whose 
 tomb is still shown. That this Ariadne died 
 there, and had different honours paid her from 
 the former ; for the feasts of one were celebrated 
 with mirth and revels, while the sacrifices of the 
 other were mixed with sorrow and mourning.* 
 
 Theseus, in his return from Crete, put in at 
 Delos ; t and having sacrificed to Apollo, and 
 dedicated a statue of Venus, which he received 
 from Ariadne, he joined with the young men in a 
 dance, which the Delians are said to practise at 
 this day. It consists in an imitation of the mazes 
 and outlets of the labyrinth, and, with vaiaous 
 involutions and evolutions, is performed in regular 
 time. This kind of dance, as Dicseai'chus informs 
 us, is called by the Delians the Crane. J He 
 danced it round the altar Keraton, which was 
 built entirely of the left-side horns of beasts. He 
 is also said to have instituted games in Delos, 
 where he began the custom of giving a palm to 
 the victors. 
 
 When they drew near to Attica, both Theseus 
 and the pilot were so transported with joy, that 
 they forgot to hoist the sail which was to be the 
 signal to iEgeus of their safety, who, therefore, in 
 despair, threw himself from the rock, and was 
 dashed to pieces. Theseus disembarked, and 
 performed those sacrifices to the gods, which he 
 had vowed at Phalerum, when he set sail, and 
 sent a herald to the city, with an account of his 
 safe return. The messenger met with numbers 
 lamenting the fate of the king, and others re- 
 joicing, as it was natural to expect, at the return 
 of Theseus, welcoming him with the greatest 
 kindness, and ready to crown him with flowers for 
 his good news. He received the chaplets, and 
 
 * The Feasts of Ariadne, the wife of Bacchus, 
 were celebrated with joy, to denote that she was 
 become a divinity ; those of the other Ariadne 
 signified that she fell like a mere mortal. 
 
 t Hence came tire, custom of sending annually 
 a deputation from Athens to Delos, to sacrifice to 
 Apollo. 
 
 t This dance, Callimachus tells us, was a par- 
 ticular one ; and probably it was called the Crane, 
 because cranes commonly fly in the figure of a 
 circle. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 twined them round his herald’s staff. Returning 
 to the sea-shore, and finding that Theseus had 
 not yet finished his libations, he stopped without, 
 not choosing to disturb the sacrifice. When the 
 libations were over, he announced the death of 
 iSgeus. Upon this, they hastened, with sorrow 
 and tumultuous lamentations, to the city. Hence, 
 they tell us, it is, that, in the Oschophona, or 
 Feast of Boughs, to this day the herald is not 
 crowned, but his staff ; and those that are present 
 at the libations cry out, “Eleleu ! Jou, joii!”* 
 The former is the exclamation of haste and 
 triumph, and the latter of trouble and confusion. 
 Theseus, having buried his father, paid his vows 
 to Apollo on the seventh of October ; for on that 
 day they arrived safe at Athens. The boiling of 
 all sorts of pulse at that time is said to take its 
 rise from their mixing the remains of their pro- 
 visions, when they found themselves safe ashore, 
 boiling them in one pot, and feasting upon them 
 all together. In that feast they also carry a 
 branch bound about with wool, such as they then 
 made use of in their supplications, which they 
 call Eiresione, laden with all_ sorts of fruits ; and 
 to signify the_ ceasing of scarcity at that time, they 
 sing this strain : 
 
 The golden ear, th* ambrosial hive, 
 
 In fair Eiresione thrive. 
 
 See the juicy figs appear ! 
 
 Olives crown the wealthy year ! 
 
 See the cluster-bending vine ! 
 
 See, and drink, and drop supine ! 
 
 Some pretend that this ceremony is retained in 
 memory of the Heraclidae,t who were entertained 
 in that manner by the Athenians ; but the greater 
 part relate it as above delivered. 
 
 The vessel in which Theseus sailed, and re- 
 turned safe, with those young men, went with 
 thirty oars. It was preserved by the Athenians 
 to the times of Demetrius Phalereus ; t being so 
 pieced and new framed with strong plank, that it 
 afforded an example to the philosophers, in their 
 disputations concerning the identity of things 
 that are changed by growth ; some contending 
 that it was the same, and others that it was not. 
 
 The feast called Oschophoria,§ which the 
 
 * Elele 7 t denotes the joy and precipitation with 
 which Theseus marched towards Athens ; and 
 Joii, joii^ his sorrow for the death of his father. 
 
 t The descendants of Hercules, being driven 
 out of Peloponnesus and all Greece, applied to 
 the Athenians for their protection, which was 
 granted : and as they went as supplicants, they 
 went with branches in their hands. This subject 
 is treated by Euripides in his Heraclidse. 
 
 X That is, near looo years. For Theseus re- 
 turned from Crete about the year before Christ 
 1235, and Callimachus, who was contemporary 
 with Demetrius, and who tells us the Athenians 
 continued to send this ship to Delos in his time, 
 flourished about the year before Christ 280. 
 
 § This ceremony was performed in the follow- 
 ing manner : They made choice of a certain 
 number of youths of the most noble families in 
 each tribe, whose fathers and mothers both were 
 living. They bore vine-branches in their hands, 
 with grapes upon them, and ran from the temple 
 of Bacchus to that of Minerva Sciradia, which 
 was near the Phalerian gate. He that arrived 
 there first drank off a cup of wine, mingled with 
 
 Athenians still celebrate, was then first instituted 
 by Theseus. For he did not take with him all 
 the virgins upon whom the lot had fallen, but 
 selected two young men of his acquaintance who 
 had feminine and florid aspects, but were not 
 wanting in spirit and presence of mind. These 
 by warm bathing, and keeping them out of the 
 sun, by providing unguents for their hair and 
 complexions, and everything necessary for their 
 dress, by forming their voice, their manner, and 
 their step, he so effectually altered, that they 
 passed among the virgins designed for Crete, and 
 no one could discern the difference. 
 
 At his return, he walked in procession with the 
 same young men, dressed in the manner of those 
 who now carry the branches. These are carried 
 in honour of Bacchus and Ariadne, on account of 
 the stoty before related ; or rather because they 
 returned^ at the time of gathering ripe fruits. 
 The Deipnophorse, women who carry the pro- 
 visions, bear a part in the solemnity, and have a 
 share in the sacrifice, to represent the mothers of 
 those upon whom the lots fell, who brought their 
 children provisions for the voyage. Fables and 
 tales are the chief discourse, because the women 
 then told their children stories to comfort them 
 and keep up their spirits. These particulars are 
 taken from the History of Demon. There was a 
 place consecrated, and a temple erected to 
 Theseus : and those families which would have 
 been liable to the tribute, in case it had continued, 
 were obliged to pay a tax to the .temple for 
 sacrifices. These were committed to the care of 
 the Phytalidae, Theseus doing them that honour 
 in recompense of their hospitality. 
 
 After the death of iEgeus, he undertook and 
 effected a prodigious work. He settled all the 
 inhabitants of Attica in Athens, and made them 
 one people in one city, who before were scattered 
 up and down, and could with difficulty be as- 
 sembled on any pressing occasion for the public 
 good. Nay, often such differences had happened 
 between them, as ended in bloodshed. The 
 method he took was to apply to them in particular 
 by their tribes and families. Private persons and 
 the poor easily listened to his summons. To the 
 rich and great he represented the advantage of a 
 government without a king, where the chief 
 power should be in the people, while he himself 
 only desired to command in war, and to be the 
 guardian of the laws ; in all the rest, every one 
 would be upon an equal footing. Part of them 
 hearkened to his persuasions ; and others fearing 
 his power, which was already very great, as well 
 as his enterprising spirit, chose rather to be per- 
 suaded, than to be forced to submit. Dissolving, 
 therefore, the corporations, the councils, and 
 courts in each particular town, he built one 
 common Prytaneum and court-hall, where it 
 stands to this day. The citadel, with its de- 
 pendencies, and the city, or the old and new 
 town, he united under the common name of 
 
 honey, cheese, meal, and oil. They were fol- 
 lowed by a chorus conducted by two young men, 
 dressed in women’s apparel, the chorus singing a 
 song in praise of those young men. Certain 
 women, with baskets on their heads, attended 
 them, and were chosen for that office from among 
 the most wealthy of the citizens. The whole 
 procession was headed by a herald, bearing a 
 staff encircled with boughs. 
 
8 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 Athens, and instituted the Panathensea as a com- 
 nion sacrifice.* He appointed also the Metoecia, 
 or Feast of Migration,! and fixed it to the six- 
 teenth of July, and so it still continues. ^ Giving 
 up the kingly power, as he had promised, he 
 settled the commonwealth under the auspices of 
 the gods ; for he consulted the Oracle at Delphi 
 concerning his new government, and received 
 this answer : 
 
 From Royal stems thy honour, Theseus, springs ; 
 By Jove beloved, the sire supreme of kings. 
 
 See rising towns, see wide-extended states. 
 
 On thee dependent, ask their future fates ! 
 Hence, hence with fear ! Thy favour’d bark shall 
 ride 
 
 Safe o’er the surges of the foamy tide. % 
 
 With this agrees the Sibyl’s prophecy, which, 
 Ave are told, she delivered long after, concerning 
 Athens : 
 
 The bladder may be dipp’d but never drown’d. 
 
 Desiring yet further to enlarge the city, he 
 invited all strangers to equal privileges in it : and 
 the words still in use, “ Come hither, all ye 
 people,” are said to be the beginning of a pro- 
 clamation, which Theseus ordered to be made 
 when he composed the commonwealth, as it were, 
 of all nations. Yet he left it not in the confusion 
 and disorder likely to ensue from the confluence 
 and strange mixture of people ; but distinguished 
 them into noblemen, husbandmen, and mechanics. 
 The nobility were to have the care of religion, to 
 supply the city with magistrate.s, to explain the 
 laws, and to interpret whatever related to the 
 worship of the gods. As to the rest, he balanced 
 the citizens against each other as nearly as 
 ossible ; the nobles excelling in dignity, the 
 usbandmen in usefulness., and the artificers in 
 number. It appears from Aristotle, that Theseus 
 was the first who inclined to a democracy, and 
 gave up the regal power ; and Homer also seems 
 to bear witness to the same in his catalogue of 
 
 * The Athenaea were celebrated before, in 
 honour of the Goddess Minerva ; but as that was 
 a feast peculiar to the city of Athens, Theseus 
 enlarged it, and made it common to all the in- 
 habitants of Attica ; and therefore it was called 
 Panathenaea. There were the greater and the less 
 Panathenaea. The less were kept annually, and 
 the greater every fifth year. In the latter they 
 carried in procession the mysterious pephim. or 
 veil of MinerA^a, on which were embroidered the 
 victory of the gods over the giants, and the most 
 remarkable achievements of their heroes. 
 
 t In memory of their quitting the boroughs, 
 and uniting in one city. 
 
 On this occasion, he likeAvise instituted, or at 
 least restored, the famous Isthmian games, in hon- 
 our of Neptune. All these were chiefly designed 
 to draw a concourse of strangers ! and ais a fur- 
 ther encouragement for them to come and settle 
 in Athens, he gave them the privileges of natives. 
 
 X In the original it is, “ Safe, like a bladder, 
 &c.” When Sylla had taken Athens, and exer- 
 cised all manner of cruelties there, some Athenians 
 v/ent to Delphi, to inquire of the oracle, whether 
 the last hour of their city was come? and the 
 priestess, according to Pausanias, made answer, 
 Ta etc Tov aKxov exovra, *^That •wh.ich belongs to 
 the bladder now has an end ; ” plainly referring 
 to the old prophecy here delivered. 
 
 ships, where he gives the name of People to the 
 Athenians only. To his money he gave the im- 
 pression of an ox, either on account of the 
 Marathonian bull, or because of Minos’s general 
 Taurus, or because he would encourage the 
 citizens in agriculture. Hence came the ex- 
 pression of a thing being worth ten or an hundred 
 oxen. Having also made a secure acquisition of 
 the country about Megara to the territory of 
 Athens, he set up the famed pillar in the Isthmus,’*' 
 and inscribed it with two verses to distinguish the 
 boundaries. That on the east side ran thus ; 
 
 • This is not Peloponnesus, but Ionia ; 
 and that on the west was. 
 
 This is Peloponnesus, not Ionia. 
 
 He likewise instituted games in imitation of 
 Hercules, being ambitious, that as the Greeks in 
 pursuance of that hero’s appointment, celebrated 
 the Olympic games in honour of Jupiter, so they 
 should celebrate the Isthmian in honour of Nep- 
 tune : for the rites performed there before, in 
 Memory of Melicertes, were observed in the 
 night, and had more the air of mysteries, than of 
 a public spectacle and assembly. But some_ say 
 the Isthmian games were dedicated to Sciron, 
 Theseus inclining to expiate his untimely fate, 
 by reason of their being so nearly related ; for 
 Sciron was the son of Canethus and Henioche, 
 the daughter of Pittheus. Others will have it, 
 that Sinnis was their son, and that to him, and 
 not to Sciron, the games were dedicated. He 
 made an agreement too Avith the Corinthians, 
 that they should give the place of honour to the 
 Athenians Avho came to the Isthmian games, as 
 far as the ground could be covered with the sail 
 of the public ship that brought them, Avhen 
 stretched to its full extent. This particular Ave 
 learn from Hellanicus and Andron of Halicar- 
 nassus. 
 
 Philochorus and some others relate, that he 
 sailed, in company with Hercules, into the Euxine 
 sea, to carry on Avar with the Amazons,! and that 
 he received Antiope \ as the reward of his valour : 
 but the greater number, among whom are 
 Pherecydes, Hellanicus, and Herodorus, tell us, 
 that Theseus made that voyage, with his own 
 fleet only, some time after Hercules, and took 
 that Am azon captive, Avhich is indeed the more 
 probable account ; for we do not read that any 
 other of his fellow warriors made any Amazon 
 prisoner. But Bion says, he took and carried her 
 off by a stratagem. The Amazons being na turally, 
 lovers of men, were so far from avoiding Theseus, 
 when he touched upon their coasts, that they sent 
 
 * This pillar was erected by the common con- 
 sent of the lonians and Peloponnesians, to put an 
 end to the disputes about their boundaries ; and 
 it continued to the reign of Codrus, during which 
 it was demolished by the Heraclidae, who had 
 made themselves masters of the territory of 
 Megara, which thereby passed from the lonians 
 to the Dorians. Strabo, lib. ix. 
 
 ! Nothing can be more fabulous than the whole 
 history of the Amazons. Strabo observes, that 
 the most credible of Alexander’s historiar^ have 
 not so much as mentioned them : and indeed, 
 if they were a Scythian nation, how came they all 
 to have Greek names ? 
 
 X Justin says, Hercules gave Hippolyte to 
 Theseus, and kept Antiope for himself. 
 
THESEUS. 9 
 
 him presents. ^ Theseus invited Antiope, who 
 brought them, into his ship, and as soon as she 
 was aboard, set sail. But the account of one 
 jSIenecrates, who published a History of Nice, in 
 Bithynia, is, that Theseus, having Antiope aboard 
 his vessel, remained in those parts some time ; 
 and that he was attended in that expedition by 
 three young men of Athens, who were brothers, 
 Euneus, Thoas, and Soloon. The last of these, 
 unknown to the rest, fell in love with Antiope, 
 and communicated his passion to one of his com- 
 panions, who applied to Antiope about the affair. 
 She firmly rejected his pretensions, but treated 
 him with civility, and prudently concealed the 
 matter from Theseus. But Soloon, in despair, 
 leaped into a river and drowned himself : Theseus, 
 then sensible of the cause, and the young man’s 
 passion, lamented his fate, and, in his sorrow, 
 recollected an oracle which he had formerly 
 received at Delphi. The priestess had ordered, 
 that when, in some foreign country, he should 
 labour under the greatest affliction, he should 
 build a city there, and leave some of his followers 
 1 to govern it. Hence he called the city which he 
 ; built Pythopolis, after the Pythian God, and the 
 1 neighbouring river Soloon, in honour of the young 
 man. He left the two surviving brothers to 
 govern it, and give it laws ; and along with them 
 Hermus, who was of one of the best families in 
 Athens. From him the inhabitants of Pythopolis 
 call a certain place in their city Hermes’s House, 
 \_HeT7noil oiktd\^ and by misplacing an accent, 
 transfer the honour from the hero to the God 
 Mercury. 
 
 Hence the war with the Amazons took its rise. 
 And it appears to have been no slight or v/omanish 
 enterprise ; for they could not have encamped in 
 the town, or joined battle on the ground about 
 the Pnyx ® and the Museum,*}* or fallen in so 
 intrepid a manner upon the city of Athens, unless 
 they had first reduced the country about it. It 
 IS difficult, indeed, to believe (though Hellanicus 
 has related it) that they crossed the Cimmerian 
 Bosphorus upon the ice ; but that they encamped 
 almost in the heart of the city is confirmed by the 
 names of places, and by the tombs of those that 
 fell. 
 
 Ihere was a long pause and delay before either 
 ^my would begin the attack. At last, Theseus, 
 by the direction of some oracle, offered a sacri- 
 fice to Fear,f and after that immediately en- 
 gaged. The battle was fought in the month 
 Boedromion [September], the day on which the 
 Athenians still celebrate the feast called Boedro- 
 rnia. Clidemus, who is willing to be very par- 
 ticular, writes, that the left wing of the Amazons 
 nioved towards what is now called the Amazo- 
 nium \ and that the right extended as fai* as the 
 Pnyx, near Chrj’^sa : that the Athenians first 
 engaged with the left wing of the Amazons, 
 
 falling upon them from the Museum ; and that 
 the tombs of those that fell in the battle are in 
 the street which leads to the gate called Piraica, 
 which is by the monument erected in honour of 
 Chalcodon, where the Athenians were routed 
 by the Amazons, and fled as far as the Temple 
 of the Furies : but that the left wing ot the 
 Athenians, which charged from the Palladium, 
 Ardettus, and Lyceum, drove the right wing of 
 the enemy to their camp, and slew many of 
 them : That after four months a peace was con- 
 cluded by means of Hippolyte ; for so this author 
 calls the Amazon that attended with Theseus, not 
 Antiope. But some this heroine fell fighting 
 
 by Theseus’ side, being pierced with a dart by 
 iViolpadia, and that a pillar, by the Temple of 
 the Olympian earth,* was set up over her grave. 
 Nor is it to be wondered, that in the account of 
 things so very ancient, history should be thus 
 uncertain, since they tell us that some Amazons, 
 wounded by Antiope, were privately sent to 
 Chalcis to be cured, and that some were buried 
 there, at a place now called Amazonium. But 
 that the war was ended by a league, we may 
 assuredly gather from a place called Horcomo- 
 sium, near the temple of Theseus, where it was 
 sworn to, as well as from an ancient sacrifice, 
 which is offered to the Amazons the day before 
 the feast of Theseus. The people of Megara, too, 
 show a place, in the figure of a lozenge, where 
 some Amazons were buried, as you go from the 
 market-place to the place called Rhus. Others 
 also are said to have died by Chaeronea, and to 
 have been buried by the ri\oilet, which, it seems, 
 was formerly called Thermodon, but now H«- 
 mon ; of which I have given a farther account in 
 the life of Demosthenes. It appears likewise, 
 that the Amazons traversed Thessaly, not with- 
 out opposition ; for their sepulchres are shovm to 
 this day, between Scotussaea and Cynoscephalae. 
 
 This is all that is memorable in the story of 
 the Amazons ; for as to what the author of the 
 Theseis relates, of the Amazons rising to take 
 vengeance for Antiope, when Theseus quitted 
 he^ and married Phaedra, and of their being 
 slain by Hercules, it has plainly the air of fable. 
 Indeed he married Phaedra after the death of 
 Antiope, having had by the Amazon a son named 
 Hippolytus,*}* or according to Pindar, Demo- 
 
 * By this is meant the moon, so called (as 
 Plutarch supposes in his Treatise on the cessa- 
 tion of Oracles) because, like the Genii or 
 Demons, she is neither so perfect as the gods, 
 nor so imperfect as humankind. But as some of 
 the philosophers, we mean the Pythagoreans, 
 had astronomy enough afterwards to conclude 
 that the sun is the centre of this system, we pre- 
 sume it might occur to thinking men in the more 
 early ages, that the moon was an opaque, and, 
 therefore, probably a terrene body. 
 
 t Theseus had a son, by the Amazonian queen, 
 named Hippolytus, having soon after married 
 Phaedra, the sister of Deucalion, the son and 
 successor of Minos, by whom he had two sons ; 
 he sent Hippolytus to be brought up by his own 
 mother iEthra, queen of Troezene ; but he coming 
 afterwards to be present at some Athenian games, 
 Phaedra fell in love with him, and having solicited 
 him in vain to a compliance, in a fit of resent- 
 ment, accused him to Theseus of having made 
 an attempt upon her chastity. The fable says. 
 
 * The Pnyx was a place (near the citadel) 
 where the people of Athens used to assemble, and 
 where the orators spoke to them about public 
 affairs. 
 
 t The Museum was upon a little hill over against 
 the citadel, and probably so called from a temple 
 of the Muses there. 
 
 ^ t The heathens considered not only the pas- 
 sions, but even distempers, storms, and tempests, 
 as divinities, and worshipped them, that they 
 might do them no harm. 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIVES, 
 
 phoon. As to the calamities which befel Phaedra 
 and Hippolytus, since the historians do not differ 
 from what the writers of tragedy have said of 
 them, we may look upon them as matters of fact. 
 
 Some other marriages of Theseus are spoken 
 of, but have not been represented on the stage, 
 which had neither an honourable beginning, nor 
 a happy conclusion. He is also said to have 
 forcibly carried off Anaxo of Troezene, and halving 
 slain Sinnis and Cercyon, to have committed 
 rapes upou their daughters; to have married 
 Peribcea, the mother of Ajax, too, and Pheroboea, 
 and lope the daughter of Iphicles. Besides, 
 they charge him with being enamoured of iEgle, 
 the daughter of Panopeus (as above related), and, 
 for her, leaving Ariadne, contrary to the rules of 
 both justice and honour ; but above all, with the 
 rape of Helen, which involved Attica in war, and 
 ended in his banishment and death, of which we 
 shall speak more at large by and by._ ^ 
 
 Though there were many expeditions under- 
 taken by the heroes of those times, Herodorus 
 thinks that Theseus was not concerned in any of 
 them, except in assisting the Lapithse against the 
 Centaurs. Others write, that he attended Jason 
 to Colchos, and Meleager in killing the boar ; 
 and that hence came the proverb, “Nothing 
 without Theseus.” It is allowed, however, that 
 Theseus, without any assistance, did himself per- 
 form many great exploits ; and that the extra- 
 ordinary instances of his valour gave occasion to 
 the saying, “This man is another Hercules.” 
 Theseus was likewise assisting to Adrastus, in 
 recovering the bodies of those that fell before 
 Thebes, not by defeating the Thebans in battle, 
 as Euripides has it in his tragedy, but by per- 
 suading them to a truce ; for so most writers 
 agree : and Philochorus is of opinion, that this 
 was the first truce ever known for burying the 
 dead. But Hercules was, indeed, the first who 
 gave up their dead to the enemy, as we have 
 shown in his life. The burying place of the 
 common soldiers is to be seen at Eleutherse, and 
 of the officers at Eleusis ; in which particular 
 Theseus gratified Adrastus. .^schylus. in whose 
 tragedy of the Eleusinians Theseus is introduced 
 relating the matter as above, contradicts what 
 Euripides has delivered in his Suppliants.^ 
 
 The friendship between Theseus and Pirithous 
 is said to have commenced on this occasion : 
 Theseus being much celebrated for his strength 
 and valour, Pirithous was desirous to prove it, 
 and therefore drove away his oxen from Marathon. 
 Vv^hen he heard that Theseus pursued him in arms, 
 he did not fly, but turned back to meet him. But, 
 as soon as they beheld one another, each was 
 so struck with admiration of the other’s person 
 and courage, that they laid aside all thoughts of 
 fighting; and Pirithous first giving Theseus his 
 
 that Theseus prayed to Neptune to punish him 
 by some violent death; and all solemn execra- 
 tions, according to the notions of the heathens, 
 certainly taking effect, as Hippolytus was riding 
 along the sea shore, Neptune sent two sea-calves, 
 who frightened the horses, overturned the chariot, 
 and tore him to pieces. The poets^ add, that the 
 lustful queen hanged herself for grief ; but as for 
 Hippolytus, Diana being taken with his chastity, 
 and pitying the sad fate it brought upon him, 
 prevailed upon iEsculapius to restore him to life, 
 to be a companion of her diversions. 
 
 hand, bade him be judge in this cause himself, 
 and he would willingly abide by his sentence. 
 Theseus, in his turn, left the cause to him, and 
 desired him to be his friend and fellow warrior. 
 They then confirmed their friendship with an oath. 
 Pirithous afterwards^ marrying Deidamia,* en- 
 treated Theseus to visit his country, and to be- 
 come acquainted with the Lapithse. f He had 
 also invited the Centaurs to the entertainment. 
 These, in their cups behaving v/ith insolence and 
 indecency, and not even refraining from the 
 women, the Lapithse rose up in their defence, 
 killed some of the Centaurs upon the spot, and 
 soon after beating them in a set battle, drove 
 them out of the country with the assistance of 
 Theseus. Herodorus relates the matter differently. 
 He says that, hostilities being already begun, 
 Theseus came in aid to the Lapithse, and then 
 had the first sight of Hercules, having made it 
 his business'to find him out at Trachin, where he 
 reposed himself after^ all his wanderings and 
 labours ; and that this interview passed in marks 
 of great respect, civility, and mutual compliments. 
 But we are rather to follow those historians who 
 write, that they had very frequent interviews ; 
 and that by means of Theseus, Hercules was 
 initiated into the mysteries of Ceres, having first 
 obtained lustration, as he desired, on account of 
 several involuntary pollutions. 
 
 Theseus was now fifty years old, according to 
 Hellanicusj, when he was concerned in the rape 
 of Plelen, J who had not yet arrived^ at years ^of 
 maturity. Some writers, thinking this one of the 
 heaviest charges against him, endeavoured to 
 correct it, by saying that it was not Theseus that 
 carried off Helen, but Idas and Lynceus, who 
 committed her to his care, and that therefore he 
 refused to give her up, when demanded by Castor 
 and Pollux ; or rather that she was delivered to 
 him by Tyndarus himself, to keep her from 
 Enarsphorus, the son of Hippocoon, who en- 
 deavoured to possess himself by violence of Helen, 
 who was yet but a child. But what authors 
 generally agree in as most probable is as follows : 
 The two friends went together to Sparta, and 
 having seen the girl dancing in the temple of 
 Diana Orthia, carried her off, and fled. The 
 pursuers that were sent after them following no 
 farther than Tegea, they thought themselves 
 secure, and having traversed Peloponnesus, they 
 entered into an agreement, that he who should 
 gain Helen by lot should have her to wife, but be 
 obliged to assist in procuring a wife for the other. 
 In consequence of these terms, the lots being 
 cast, she fell to Theseus, who received the virgin, 
 and conveyed her, as she was not yet marriage- 
 able, to Aphidnse. Here he placed his mother 
 with her, and committed them to the care of his 
 
 * All other writers call her Hippodamia, ex^- 
 cept Propertius, who calls her Ischomacha. She 
 was the daughter of Adrastus. 
 
 t Homer calls the Lapithse heroes. The Cen- 
 taurs are feigned to have been half man half 
 horse, either from their brutality, or because (if 
 not the inventors of horsemanship, yet) they 
 generally appeared on horseback. 
 
 X This princess was the reputed daughter of 
 Jupiter, by Leda, the wife of Tyndarus, king of 
 GEbalia, in Peloponnesus ; and though then but 
 nine years old, was reckoned the greatest beauty 
 in the world. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 II 
 
 friend Aphidnus, charging him to keep them in 
 the utmost secrecy and safety ; whilst, to pay his 
 debt of service to Pirithous, he himself travelled 
 with him into Epirus, with a view to the daughter 
 of Aidoneus, king of the Molossians. This prince 
 named his wife Proserpine,* his daughter Core, 
 and his dog Cerberus : v/ith this dog he com- 
 manded all his daughter’s suitors to fight, pro- 
 j mising her to him that should overcome him. 
 But understanding that Pirithous came not with 
 an intention to court his daughter, but to carry 
 her off by force, he seized both him and his friend, 
 destro5^ed Pirithous immediately by means of his 
 dog, and shut up Theseus in close prison. 
 
 Meantime Menestheus, the son of Peteus, 
 grandson of Orneus, and great grandson of Erec- 
 theus, is said to be the first of mankind that 
 undertook^ to be a demagogue, and by his elo- 
 quence to ingratiate himself with the people. He 
 endeavoured also to exasperate and inspire the 
 nobility with sedition, who had but ill borne with 
 Theseus for some time; reflecting that he had 
 deprived every person of family of his govern- 
 ment and command, and shut them up together 
 in one city, where he used them as his subjects 
 and slaves. Among the common people he sowed 
 disturbance by telling them, that though they 
 pleased themselves with the dream of liberty, in 
 fact they were robbed of their country and re- 
 ligion ; and instead of many good and native 
 kings, were lorded over by one man, who was a 
 new comer and a stranger. Whilst he was thus 
 busily emploj’-ed, the war declared by the Tyn- 
 daridae greatly helped forward the sedition. Some 
 py plainly, they were invited by Menestheus to 
 invade the country. At first they proceeded not 
 in a hostile manner, only demanding their sister : 
 but the Athenians answering, that they neither 
 had her among them, nor knew where she was 
 left, they began their warlike operations. Acade- 
 mus, however, finding it out by some means or 
 other, told them she was concealed at Aphidnse. 
 Hence, not ^only_ the Tyndaridae treated him 
 honourably in his lifetime, but the Lacedae- 
 monians, who, in after times, often made inroads 
 into Attica, aind laid waste all the countiy besides, 
 spared the Academy for his sake. But Dicaearchus 
 saj's, that Echedemus and hlarathus, tvm Arca- 
 dians, being allies to the Tyndaridae in that war, the 
 place which now goes by the name of the Academy, 
 was first called Echedemia, from one of them ; 
 and that from the other the district of Marathon 
 had its name, because he freely offered himself, 
 in pursuance of some oracle, to be sacrificed at 
 the head of the arm3^ To Aphidnae then they 
 came, where they beat the enemy in a set battle, 
 and then took the city, and razed it to the ground. 
 There, they tell us, Alycus, the son of Sciron, 
 was slam, fighting for Castor and Pollux; and 
 that a certain place, within the territories of 
 Megara, is called Al5’-cus, from his being buried 
 there : and Hereas writes, that Aljnus received 
 
 * Proserpine and Core was the same person, 
 daughter to Aidoneus, whose wife was named 
 Ceres. Plutai'ch himself tells us so in his Morals, 
 where he adds, that by Proserpine is meant the 
 Moon, whom Pluto, or the God of Darkness, 
 sornetimes carries off. Indeed, Core signifies 
 nothing more than young 'woman or daughter ; 
 and they might say a daughter of Epirus, as we 
 say a daughter of or jt/" Spain. 
 
 his death irom Theseus’s oAvn hand. These verses 
 also are alleged as a proof in point : 
 
 For bright-hair’d Helen he was slain 
 By Theseus, on Aphidna’s plain. 
 
 But it is not probable that Aphidnse would have 
 been taken and his mother made prisoner, had 
 Theseus been present. 
 
 Aphidnse, however, was taken, and Athens in 
 danger. Menestheus took this opportunity to 
 persuade the people to admit the Tyndaridae into 
 the city, and to treat them hospitably, since they 
 only levied war against Theseus, who began with 
 violence first, but that they were benefactors and 
 deliverers to the rest of the Athenians. Their 
 behaviour also confirmed what was said ; for, 
 though conquerors, they desired nothing but to 
 be admitted to the mysteries, to which they had 
 no less claim than Hercules,* since they were 
 equally allied to the city. This request was 
 easily granted them, and they were adopted by 
 Aphidnus, as Hercules was by Pylius. They had 
 also dhdne honours paid them, vdth the title of 
 Anakes, which was given them, either on account 
 of the truce Ijxnoche^ which they made, orbecause 
 of their great care that no one should be injured, 
 though there were so many troops in the city; 
 for the phrase anakos echem sign&es to keep or 
 take care o: any thing; and for this reason, 
 perhaps, kings are called Anaktes. Some again say 
 they were cMled Anakes, because of the appear- 
 ance of their stars; for the Athenians use the 
 words anekas and anekathen, instead of a?io and 
 o. 7 tothe 7 i, that is, above or on high. 
 
 We are told that iEthra, the mother of Theseus, 
 who was now a prisoner, was carried to Lace- 
 daemon, and from thence, with Helen, to Troy ; 
 and that Homer confirms it when, speaking of 
 those that waited upon Helen, he mentions — 
 The beauteous Cljunene, 
 
 And iEthra born of Pittheus. 
 
 Others reject this verse as none of Homer’s, as 
 they do also the story of JMunychus, who is said 
 to have been the fruit of a secret commerce between 
 Demophoon and Laodice, and brought up by 
 *^thra at Troy. But Isther, in the thirteenth 
 book of his History of Attica gives an account of 
 iEthra different from all the rest. He was in- 
 formed, it seems, that after the battle in which 
 Alexander or Paris was routed by Achilles and 
 Patroclus, in Thessaly near the river Sperchius, 
 Hector took and plundered the city of Troezene, 
 and carried off ^thra, who had been left there. 
 But this is highly improbable. 
 
 It happened that Hercules, in passing through 
 the country of the Molossians, was entertained 
 by Aidoneus the king, who accidentally made 
 mention of the bold attempts of Theseus and 
 Pirithous, and of the manner in tvhich he had 
 punished them when discovered. Hercules w'as 
 much disturbed to hear of the inglorious death of 
 the one, and the danger of the other. As to 
 Pirithous, he thought it in vain to expostulate 
 about him; but he begged to have Theseus 
 released, and Aidoneus granted it. Theseus, thus 
 
 * For Castor and Pollux, like him, w’ere sons 
 of Jupiter, from whom the Athenians, too, pre- 
 tended to derive their origin. It W'as necessar}^ 
 however, that they should be naturalized before 
 they were admitted to the m^^steries, and accord- 
 ingly they w^ere naturalized by adoption. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, ' 
 
 set at liberty, returned to Athens, where his party 
 was not yet entirely suppressed : and whatever 
 temples and groves the city had assigned him, he 
 consecrated them all, but four, to Hercules, and 
 called them (as Philochorus relates), instead of 
 Thesea, Heraclea. But desiring to preside in the 
 commonwealth, and direct it as before, he found 
 himself encompassed with faction and sedition ; for 
 those that were his enemies before his departure, 
 had now added to their hatred a contempt of his 
 authority ; and he beheld the people so generally 
 corrupted, that they wanted to be flattered into 
 their duty, instead of silently executing his 
 commands. When he attempted to reduce them 
 by force, he was overpowered by the prevalence 
 of faction ; and, in the end, finding his affairs 
 desperate, he privately sent his children into 
 Euboea, to Elephenor, the son of Chalcodon ; and 
 himself, having uttered solenm execrations against 
 the Athenians at Gargettus, where there is still a 
 place thence called Araterion, sailed to Scyros.* 
 He imagined that there he should find hospitable 
 treatment, as he had a paternal estate in that 
 island. Lycomedes was then king of the Syrians. 
 To him, therefore, he applied, and desired to be 
 put in possession of his lands, as intending to 
 settle there. Some say,_ he asked assistance of 
 him against the Athenians. But Lycomedes, 
 either jealous of the glory of Theseus, or willing 
 to oblige Menestheus, having led him to the 
 highest clifi's of the countr>% on pretence of show- 
 ing him from thence his lands, threw him down 
 headlong from the rocks, and killed him. Others 
 say he fell of himself, missing his step, when he 
 took a walk, according to his custom, after supper. 
 At that time his death was disregarded, and 
 Menestheus quietly possessed the kingdom of 
 Athens, v.Lile the sons of Theseus attended 
 Elephenor, as private persons to the Trojan war. 
 But Mene.stheus dying in the same expedition, 
 they returned and recovered the kingdom. In 
 succeeding ages the Athenians honoured Theseus 
 as a demi-god, induced to it as well by other 
 reasons, as because, when they were fighting the 
 Medes at Marathon, a considerable part of the 
 army thought they saw the apparition of Theseus 
 completely armed, and bearing dov/n before them 
 upon the barbarians. 
 
 After the Median war, when Phsedon was 
 archon,i* the Athenians consulting the Oracle of 
 
 * The ungrateful Athenians were in process of 
 time made so sensible of the effects of his curse, 
 that to appease his ghost, they appointed solemn 
 sacrifices and divine honours to be paid to him. 
 
 t Codrus, the seventeenth king of Athens, 
 contemporary with Saul, devoted himself to death 
 I for the sake of his country, in the year before 
 1 Christ, 1068 ; having learned that the Oracle had 
 promised its enemies, the Dorians and the Hera- 
 clidse, victory, if they did not kill the king of the 
 Athenians. His subjects, on this account con- 
 ceived such veneration for him, that they esteemed 
 none worthy to bear the royal title after him, and 
 
 Apollo, were ordered by the priestess to take up 
 the bones of Theseus, and lay them in an honour- 
 able place at Athens, where they were to be kept 
 with the greatest care. But it was difficult to 
 take them up, or even to find out the grave, on 
 account of the savage and inhospitable disposition 
 of the barbarians who dwelt in Scyros. Never- 
 theless, Cimon having taken the island (as is 
 related in his Life), and being very desirous to 
 find out the place where Theseus was buried, by 
 chance saw an eagle, on a certain eminence, 
 breaking the ground (as they tell us) and scratch- 
 ing it up with her talons. This he considered as 
 a divine direction, and, digging there, found the 
 coffin of a man of extraordinary size, with a lance 
 of brass and a sword lying by it. When these 
 remains were brought to Athens in Cimon’s galley 
 the Athenians received them with splendid pro- 
 cessions and- sacrifices, and were as much trans- 
 ported as if Theseus himself had returned to the 
 city. He lies interred in the middle of the town, 
 near the Gymnasium : and his oratory is a place 
 of refuge for servants and all persons of mean condi- 
 tion, who fly from men in power, as Theseus, while 
 he lived, was a humane and benevolent patron, 
 who graciously received the petitions of the poor. 
 The chief sacrifice is offered to him on the eighth 
 of October, the day on which he returned with the 
 young men from Crete. They sacrifice to him 
 likewise on each eighth day of the other months, 
 either because he first arrived from Troezene on 
 the eighth of July, as Diodorus the geographer 
 relates ; or else thinking this number, above all 
 others, to be most proper to him, because he was 
 said to be the son of Neptune ; the solenm feasts 
 of Neptune being observed on the eighth day of 
 every month. For the number eight, as the first 
 cube of an even number, and the double of the 
 first square, properly represents the firmness and 
 immovable power of this god, who thence has the 
 names of Asphalius and Gaieochus. 
 
 therefore committed the management of the state 
 to elective magistrates, to whom they gave the 
 title of archons, and chose Medon, the eldest son 
 of Codrus, to this new dignity. Thus ended the 
 legal succession and title of kings of Athens, 
 after it had continued without any interruption 
 487 years, from Cecrops to Codrus. The archon 
 acted with sovereign authority, but was account- 
 able to the people whenever it was required. 
 There were thirteen perpetual archons in the 
 space of 325 years. After the death of Alcmaeon, 
 who was the last of them, this charge was con- 
 tinued to the person elected for ten years only ; 
 but always in the same family, till the death of 
 Eryxias, or, according to others, of Tlesias, the 
 seventh and last decennial archon. F or the family 
 of Codrus or of the Medontidae, ending in him, 
 the Athenians created annual archons, and, 
 instead of one, they appointed nine every year. 
 See a farther account of the archons in the Notes 
 on the Life of Solon. 
 
( 13 ) 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 From whom, and for what cause, the city of 
 Rome obtained that name, whose glory has 
 diffused itself over the world, historians are not 
 agreed.* * * § * Some say the Peiasgi, after they had 
 overrun great part of the globe, and conquered 
 many nations, settled there, and gave^ their city 
 the name of Rome,t on account of their strength 
 in war. Others tell us, that when Troy was 
 taken, some of the Trojans having escaped and 
 gained their ships, put to sea, and being driven 
 by the winds upon the coasts of Tuscany, came 
 to an anchor in the river Tiber : that here their 
 wives being much fatigued, and no longer able to 
 bear the hardships of the sea, one of them, superior 
 to the rest in birth and prudence, named Roma, 
 proposed that they should burn the fleet : that 
 this being effected, the men at first were much 
 exasperated, but afterwards, through necessity, 
 fixed their seat on the Palatine hill, and in a 
 short time things succeeded beyond their expec- 
 tation : for the country was good, J; and the people 
 hospitable : that therefore, besides other honours 
 paid to Roma, they called their city, as she was 
 the cause of its being built, after her name. 
 Hence, too, we are informed, the custom arose 
 for the women to salute their relations and hus- 
 bands with a kiss, because those women,_ v/hen 
 they had burned the ships, used such kind of 
 endearments to appease the resentment of their 
 husbands. 
 
 Among the various accounts of historians, it is 
 said that Roma was the daughter of I talus and 
 Leucaria ; or else the daughter of Telephus the 
 son of Hercules, and married to iEneas ; or that 
 she was the daughter of Ascanius,§ the son of 
 .^neas ; and gave name to the city ; or that 
 Romanus, the son of Ulysses and Circe, built it ; 
 or Romus, the son of iEmathion, whom Diomedes 
 sent from Troy ; or else Romus, king of the 
 Latins', after he had expelled the Tuscans, who 
 passed originally from Thessaly into Lydia, and 
 from Lydia into Italy. Even they who, with the 
 
 * Such is the uncertainty of the origin of 
 imperial Rome, and indeed of most ^ cities and 
 nations that are of considerable antiquity. That 
 of Rome might be the_ more uncertain, because 
 its first inhabitants, being a collection of mean 
 persons, fugitives, and outlaws, from other nations, 
 could not be supposed to leave histories behind 
 them. Livy, however, and most of the Latin 
 historians, agree that Rome was built by Romulus, 
 and both the city and people named after him ; 
 while the vanity of the Greek writers wants to 
 ascribe almost everything, and Rome among the 
 rest, to a Grecian original. 
 
 t Pofxn, Rojno, signifies strength. 
 
 X Whatever desirable things Nature has scat- 
 tered frugally in other countries were formerly 
 found in Italy, as in their original seminary. But 
 there has been so little encouragement given to 
 the cultivation of the soil in the time of the 
 pontiffs, that it is now comparatively barren. 
 
 § 'Ot 6’ AcTKai/tov, Tou Atveiou [6vyarepa SC.] 
 Xeyovai rovvo/xa OeaOai rtj noyei. The /former 
 English translation and the French in this place 
 are erroneous. 
 
 greatest probability, declare that the city had its 
 name from Romulus, do not agree about his ex- 
 traction : for some say he was son of .^neas and 
 Dexithea, the daughter of Phorbus,^ and was 
 brought an infant into Italy with his brother 
 Remus, that all the other vessels were lost by the 
 violence of the flood, except that in which the 
 children were, which driving gently ashore where 
 the bank was level, they were saved beyond 
 expectation, and the place from them was called 
 Rome. Some will have it, that Roma, daughter 
 of that Trojan woman who was married to Latinus, 
 the son of Telemachus, was mother to Romulus. 
 Others say that ^Emilia, the daughter of .Eneas 
 and Lavinia, had him by Mars : and others again 
 give an account of his birth, which is entirely 
 fabulous. There appeared, it seems to Tarchetius, 
 king of the Albans, who was the most wicked and 
 most cruel of men, a supernatural vision in his 
 own house, the figure of Priapus rising out of the 
 chimney-hearth, and staying there many days. 
 The goddess Tethys had an oracle in Tuscany,* 
 which being consulted, gave this answer to 
 Tarchetius, That it was necessary some virgin 
 should accept of the embraces of the phantom, 
 the fruit whereof would be a son, eminent for 
 valour, good fortune, and strength of body. 
 Hereupon Tarchetius acquainted one of his 
 daughters with the prediction, and ordered her 
 to entertain the apparition ; but she declining it, 
 sent her maid. When Tarchetius came to know 
 it, he was highly offended, and confined them 
 both, intending to put them to death. But Vesta 
 appeared to him in a dream, and forbad him to 
 kill them ; but ordered that the young women 
 should weave a certain web in their fetters, and 
 when that was done, be given in marriage. They 
 weaved, therefore, in the day time ; but others, 
 by Tarchetius’s order, unravelled it_ in the night. 
 The woman having twins by this commerce, 
 Tarchetius delivered them to one Teratius, with 
 orders to destroy them. But, instead of that, he 
 exposed them by a river side, where a she wolf 
 came and gave them suck, and various sorts of 
 birds brought food and fed the infants, till at last 
 a herdsman, who beheld these wonderful things, 
 ventured to approach and take up the children. 
 Thus secured from danger, they grew up, and 
 then attacked Tarchetius, and overcame him. 
 This is the account Promathion gives in his 
 history of Italy. 
 
 But the principal parts of that account, which 
 deserve the most credit, and have the most 
 vouchers, were first published among the Greeks 
 by Diocles the Peparethian, whom Fabius Pictor 
 commonly follows ; and though there are difterent 
 relations of the matter, yet to dispatch it in a 
 lew words, the story is this : The kings of Albaf 
 
 * There was no oracle of Tethys, but of Themis 
 there was. Themis was the same with Carmenta, 
 the mother of Evander, which last name she had, 
 because she delivered her oracles, zn carzmne ', 
 in verses. 
 
 t From Eneas down to Numitor and Amulius, 
 there were thirteen kings of the same race, but 
 we scarce know anything of them, except their 
 
PLUTARCH 
 
 descending lineally from iEneas, the succession 
 fell to two brothers, Numitor and Amuhus. 1 he 
 latter divided the whole inheritance into two 
 parts, setting the treasures brought from Troy 
 against the kingdom ; and Numitor made choice 
 of the kingdom. Amulius then having the 
 treasures, and consequently being more pow_erml 
 than Numitor, easily possessed himself o* the 
 kingdom too ; and fearing the daughter of 
 Numitor might have children, he appointed her 
 priestess of Vesta, in which capacity she was 
 always to live unmarried, and a virgin, borne 
 say her name was Ilia, some Rhea, and others 
 Sylvia. But she was soon discovered to be with 
 cliild, contrary to the law of the vestals. Antho, 
 the king’s daughter, by much entreaty, prevailed 
 with her father that she should not be capitally 
 punished. She was confined, however, and ex- 
 cluded from society, lest she should be delivered 
 without Amiilius’s knowledge. When her time 
 was completed, she was delivered of two sons of 
 uncommon size and beauty ; whereupon Amuhus, 
 still more alarmed, ordered one of his servants to 
 destroy them. Some say the name ol this servant 
 was Faustulus : others, that that was the name 
 of a person that took them^ up. Pursuant to his 
 orders, he put the children into a small trough or 
 cradle, and went down towards the river, with a 
 design to cast them in ; but seeing it very rough, 
 and running with a strong current,^ he was aJraid 
 to approach it. He therefore laid them down 
 near the bank, and departed. The flood in- 
 creasing continually, set the trough afloat, and 
 carried it gently down to a pleasant place now 
 called Cermanum, but formerly (as it should seem) 
 Germanum, denoting that the brothers arrived 
 there. , 
 
 Near this place was a wild fig-tree, which they 
 called Ruminalis, either on account of Romulus, 
 as is generally supposed, or because the catue 
 there ruminated, or chewed the cud, during the 
 noontide, in the shade ^ or rather because of the 
 suckling of the children there ; for the ancient 
 Latins called the breast r^cma, and the goddess 
 who presides over the nursery Rumilia,* whose 
 rites they celebrate without wine, and only with 
 libations of milk. The infants, as the story goes 
 lying there, were suckled by a she wolf, and fed 
 and taken care of by a woodpecker. These 
 animals are sacred to Mars ; and the woodpecker 
 is held in great honour and veneration by the 
 Latins. Such wonderful events contributed not 
 a little to gain credit to the mother’s report, that 
 she had the children by Mars ; though m this 
 they tell us she was herself deceived, having 
 suffered violence from Amulius, who came to her, 
 and lay with her in armour. Some say, the 
 ambiguity of the nurse’s name gave occasion to 
 the fable ; for the Latins call not only the she 
 wolves but prostitutes hipce; and such was Acca 
 Larentia, the wife of Faustulus, the fosterfather 
 of the children. To her also the Romans offer 
 
 names, and the years of their respective reigns. 
 Amulius, the last of them, who surpassed his 
 brother in courage and understanding, drove him 
 from the throne, and, to oecure it for himself, 
 murdered zEgestus, Numitor’s only son, and 
 consecrated his daughter, Rhea Sylvia, to the 
 worship of Vesta. 
 
 * The Romans called that goddess, not Rumilia, 
 but Rumina 
 
 ’ 6 * LIVES. 
 
 sacrifice, and the priest of hlars honoui'S her with 
 libations in the month of April when they cele- 
 brate her feast Larentialia. 
 
 They worship also another Larentia on the 
 following account. The keeper of the temple 
 of Hercules, having, it seems, little else to do, 
 proposed to play a game at dice with the god, on 
 condition that, if he won, he should have some- 
 thing valuable of that deity ; but if he lost,^ he 
 should provide a noble entertainment for him, 
 and a beautiful woman to lie with him. Then 
 throwing the dice, first for the god, and next for 
 himself, it appeared that he had lost. Willing, 
 however, to stand to his bargain, and to perform 
 the conditions agreed upon, he prepared a supper, 
 and engaging for the purpose one Larentia, who 
 was very handsome, but as yet little known, he 
 treated her in the temple, where he had provided 
 a bed; and after supper, left her for the enjoy- 
 ment of the god* It is said, that the deity had 
 some conversation with her, and ordered her to 
 go early in the morning to the market place, 
 salute the first man she should meet, and make 
 him her friend. The first that met her was one 
 far advanced in years, and in opulent circum- 
 stances, Tarrutias by name, who had no children, 
 and never had been married. This man took 
 Larentia to his bed, and loved her so well, that 
 at his death he left her heir to his whole estate, 
 which was very considerable ; and she afterwards 
 bequeathed the greatest part of it by will to the 
 people. It is said, that at the time when she 
 was in high reputation, and considered as the 
 favourite of a god, she suddenly disappeared 
 about the place where the former Larentia was 
 laid. It is now called Velabrum, because the 
 river often overflowing, they passed it at 
 place, in ferry-boats, to go to the Forum. This 
 kind of passage they call velcituTCi. Others 
 derive the name from velum^ a sail, because they 
 who have the exhibiting of the public shows, 
 beginning at Velabrum, overshade all the way 
 thatle'ads from the Forum to the Hippodrome 
 with canvas, for a sail in Latin is velu7n. On 
 these accounts is the second Larentia so much 
 honoured among the Rofnans , j 
 
 In the mean time Faustulus, Amulius s herds- 
 man, brought up the children entirely undis- 
 covered ; or rather, as others with greater 
 probability assert, Numitor knew it from the 
 first,* and privately supplied the necessaries for 
 their maintenance. It is also said that they 
 were sent to Gabii, and there instructed in letteis, 
 and other branches of education suitable to then- 
 birth : and history informs us, that they had the 
 names of Romulus and Remus, from the teat of 
 the wild animal which they were seen to suck. 
 The beauty and dignity of their persons, p'en 
 in their childhood, promised a generous dispo- 
 sition ; and as they grew up, they both discovered 
 great courage and bravery, with an inclination to 
 hazardous attempts, and a spirit which nothing 
 could subdue. But Romulus seemed more to 
 cultivate the powers of reason, and to excel in 
 
 * Numitor might build upon this the hopes 
 of his re-establishment; but his knowing the 
 place where the children were brought up, and 
 supplying them with necessaries, is quite incon- 
 sistent with the manner of their discovery when 
 grown up, which is the most agreeable part of the 
 story. 
 
ROMULUS. 15 
 
 political knowledge ; whilst, by his deportment 
 among his neighbours in the employments of pas- 
 turage and hunting, he convinced them that he 
 born to command rather than to obey. To their 
 equals and inferiors they behaved very courte- 
 ously ; but tJiey despised the king’s bailiffs and 
 chief herdsmen, as not superior to themselves in 
 courage, though they were in authority, disre- 
 garding at once their threats and their anger. 
 They applied themselves to generous exercises 
 and pursuits, looking upon idleness and inactivity 
 as ilhberal things, but on hunting, running, 
 banishing or apprehending robbers, and deliver- 
 ing such as were oppressed by violence, as the 
 eniployments of honour and \*irtue. By these 
 things they gained great renown. 
 
 A dispute arising between the herdsmen of 
 Numitor and Amulius, and the former having 
 driven away some cattle belonging to the latter, 
 Romulus and Remus fell upon them, put them to 
 flight, and recovered the greatest part of the 
 booty. At this conduct Numitor was highly 
 offended ; but they little regarded his resent- 
 ment. The first steps they took on this occasion 
 were to collect, and receive into their company, 
 persons of desperate fortunes, and a great number 
 ; of slav^ ; a measure which gave almaning proofs 
 of their bold and seditious inclinations. It 
 happened, that when Romulus was employed in 
 sacnficing (for to that and divination he was 
 much inclined), Numitor’s herdsmen met with 
 Remus, as he was walking with a small retinue, 
 and fell upon him. After some blows exchanged, 
 and wounds given and received, Numitor’s 
 people prevailed, and took Remus prisoner. He 
 i was carried before Numitor, and had several 
 i things laid to his charge; but Numitor did not 
 j choose to pimish him himself, for fear of his 
 brother’s resentment. To him, therefore, he 
 applied for justice, which he had aU the reason 
 1 in the w'orld to expect: since, though brother to 
 the reigning prince, he had been injured by his ' 
 servants, who presumed upon his authority. The ' 
 I>eople of Alba, moreover, expressing their un- 
 easiness, and thinking that Numitor suffered great 
 indignities, Amulius, moved with their com- 
 plaints, delivered Remus to him to be treated as 
 he should think proper. ^Vhen the youth ivas 
 conducted to his house, Numitor was greatly { 
 struck with his appearance, as he was very re- 
 markable for size and strength ; he observed, too, 
 his presence of mind, and the steadiness of his 
 looks, which had nothing servile in them, nor 
 were altered with the sense of his present danger ; 
 
 ! and he was informed, that his actions and whole 
 behaviour were suitable to what he saw. But 
 ateve all, some divine influence, as it seems, 
 directing the beginnings of the great events that 
 were to follow, Numitor, bj* his sagacity, or by a 
 fortunate conjecture, suspecting the truth, ques- 
 tioned him concerning the circumstances of his 
 birth ; speaking mildly at the same time, and 
 regarding him with a gracious eye. He boldly 
 answ'ered, “I will hide nothing from you, for 
 you behave in a more princely manner than 
 Amulius, since you hear and examine before you 
 pun^h : but he has delivered us up without in- 
 quiring into the matter. I have a twin-brother, 
 and heretofore we believed ourselves the sons of 
 Faustulus and Larentia, ser\*ants to the king. 
 But since we were accused before you, and so 
 pursued by slander as to be in danger of oiu* lives, 
 
 1 
 
 we hear nobler things concerning our birth. 
 ^Vhether they are true, the present crisis will 
 show.* Our birth is said to have been secret ; 
 our support in our infancy miraculous. We w’ere 
 exposed to birds and wild beasts, and by them 
 nourished ; suckled by a she wolf, and fed by the 
 attentions of a woodi)ecker, as we lay in a trough 
 by the great river. The trough is stul presers'ed, 
 bound about with brass bands, and inscribed with 
 letters partly faded ; w'hich may prove, perhaps, 
 hereafter very useless tokens to our parents, when 
 we are destroyed.” Numitor hearing this, and 
 comparing the time with the young man’s looks, 
 w^ confiimed in the pleasing hope he had con- 
 ceived, and considered how he might consult his 
 ^ughter about this affair ; for she was still kept 
 in close custody. 
 
 hleanw'hile Faustulus, having heard that Remus 
 was taken and delivered up to punishment, de- 
 sired Romulus to assist his brother, informing him : 
 then clearly of the pinrticulars of his birth ; for j 
 before he had only given dark hints about it, and . 
 signified just so much as might take off the atten- ' 
 tion of his wards from everything that was mean. 
 He himself took the trough, and in all the tumuk 
 of concern and fear carried it to Numitor. His 
 1 disorder raised some suspicion in the king’s guards 
 { at the gate, and that disorder increasing w'hile 
 j they looked earnestly upon him, and perplexed 
 1 him with their questions, he was discovered to 
 ^ have a trough under his cloak. There happened . 
 to be among them one of those who had had it in 
 charge to throw the children into the river, and 
 who was concerned in the exposing of them. This 
 man, seeing the trough, and Imowing it by its make 
 and i^cription, rightly guessed the business ; and 
 thinking it an aitair not to be neglected, imme- 
 diately acquainted the king with it, and put him 
 upon inquiring into it. In these great and press- 
 ing difficulties, Fat^tulus did not preserve entirely 
 his presence of mind, nor yet fully discover the 
 matter. He acknowledged that the children were 
 saved, indeed, but said that they kept cattle at a 
 great distance from Alba ; and that he was cany- 
 ing the trough to Ilia, who had often desired to 
 see it, that she might entertain the better hopes 
 that her children were alive. WTiatever persons 
 perplexed and actuated with fear or anger use to 
 suffer, Amulius then suffered ; for in his hurry he 
 sent an honest man, a friend of Numitor’s, to in- 
 quire of him whether he had any account t^t the 
 children were alive. Wlien the man was come, 
 and saw Remus almost in the embraces of Numi- 
 tor, he endeavoured to confirm him in the per- 
 suasion that the youth was really his grandson ; 
 begging him, at the same time, immediately to 
 take the best measiu-es that could be thought of, 
 and offering his best assistance to support tl^e'r 
 party. The occasion admitted of no delay, if they 
 had been inclined to it ; for Romulus was now at 
 hand, and a good number of the citizens were 
 gathered about him, either out of hatred or fear 
 of Amulius. He brought also a considerable force 
 with him, divided into companies of loo men each, 
 headed by an officer who bore a handful of grass 
 and shrubs upon a pole. These the Latins call 
 Manipuli; and hence it is, that, to this day, 
 soldiers of the same company are called Mani- 
 
 ♦ For if they were true, the god who miracu- 
 lously protected them in their infancy, would 
 deliver Remus from his present danger. j 
 
 - ! 
 
i6 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 pulares. Remus, then, having gained those with- 
 in, and Romulus assaulting the palace without, 
 the tyrant knew not what to do, or whom he 
 should consult, but amidst his doubts and per- 
 plexity, was taken and slain. _ These particulars, 
 though mostly related by Fabius, and Diodes the 
 Peparethian, who seems to have been the first 
 that wrote about the founding of Rome, are yet 
 suspected by some as fabulous and groundless. 
 Perhaps, however, we should not be so incredu- 
 lous, when we see what extraordinary events F or- 
 tune produces ; nor, when we consider what height 
 of greatness Rome attained to, can we think it 
 could ever have been effected without some super- 
 natural assistance at first, and an origin more than 
 human. 
 
 Amulius being dead, and the troubles composed, 
 the two brothers were not willing to live in Alba, 
 without governing there ; nor yet to take the 
 government upon them during their grandfather s 
 life. Having, therefore, invested him with it, 
 and paid due honours to their mother, they deter- 
 mined to dwell in a city of their own, and, for that 
 purpose, to build one in the place where they had 
 their first nourishment. This seems, at least, to 
 be the most plausible reason of their quitting 
 Alba; and perhaps, too, it was necessary, as a 
 great number of slaves and fugitives w^ collected 
 about them, either to see their affairs entirely 
 ruined, if these should disperse, or with them to 
 seek another habitation ; for that the people of 
 Alba refused to permit the fugitives to mix with 
 them, or to receive them as citizens, sufficiently 
 appears from the rape of the w'omen, which was 
 not undertaken out of a licentious humour, but 
 deliberately, and through necessity, from the want 
 of wives; since, after they seized them, they 
 treated them very honourably. ^ 
 
 As soon as the foundation of the city was laid, 
 they opened a place of refuge for fugitives, which 
 they called the Temple of the Asyla;an God.* * 
 Here they received all that came, and would 
 neither deliver up the slave to his master, the 
 debtor to his creditor, nor the murderer to the 
 magistrate ; declaring, that they were directed by 
 the oracle of Apollo to preserve the asylum from 
 all violation. Thus the city was soon peopled ; t 
 for it is said, that the houses at first did not exceed 
 looo. But of that hereafter. 
 
 While they were intent upon building, a dispute 
 soon arose about the place. Romulus having 
 built a square, which he called Rome, would have 
 the city there ; but Remus marked out a more 
 secure situation on Mount Aventine, which, from 
 him, was called Remonium,J but now has the 
 
 name of Rignarium. The dispute was referred to 
 the decision of augury ; and for this purpose they 
 sat down in the open air, when Remus, as they 
 tell us, saw six vultures, and Romulus twice as 
 many. Some say, Remus’s account of the number 
 he had seen was true, and that of Romulus not 
 so; but when Remus came up to him, he did 
 really see twelve. Hence the Romans, in their 
 divination by the flight of birds, chiefly regard 
 the vulture: though Herodorus of Pontus relates, 
 that Hercules used to rejoice when a vulture 
 appeared to him as he was going upon any great 
 action. This was, probably, because it ^ is a 
 creature the least mischievous of any, pernicious 
 neither to com, plants nor cattle. It only feeds 
 upon dead carcasses ; but neither kills nor preys 
 upon anything that has life. As for birds, it does 
 not touch them even when dead, because they 
 are of its own nature; while eagles, owls and 
 hawks tear and kill their own kind ; and, as 
 iEschylus has it. 
 
 What bird is clean that fellow birds devours ? 
 Besides, other birds are frequently seen, and may 
 be found at any time ; but a vulture is an un- 
 common sight, and we have seldom met with any 
 of their young ; so that the rarity of them has 
 occasioned an absurd opinion in some, that they 
 come to us from other countries ; and soothsayers 
 judge every unusual appearance to be preter- 
 natural, and the effect of a divine power. 
 
 When Remus knew that he was imposed upon, 
 he was highly incensed, and as Romulus was 
 opening a ditch round the place where the walls 
 were to be built, he ridiculed some parts of the 
 work, and obstmcted others. At last, as he pre- 
 sumed to leap over it, some say he fell by the 
 hand of Romulus ; * others, by that of Celer, one 
 of his companions. Faustulus also fell in the 
 scuffle ; and Plistinus, who, being brother to 
 Faustulus, is said to have assisted in bringing 
 Romulus up. Celer fled into Tuscany ; and from 
 him such as are swift of foot, or expeditious in 
 business, are by the Romans called celeres. Thus, 
 when Quintus Metellus, within a few days after 
 his father’s death, provided a show of gladiators, 
 the people, admiring his quick dispatch, gave him 
 the name of Celer. 
 
 Romulus buried his brother Remus, together 
 
 * It is not certain who this God of Refuge was. 
 Dionysius of Halicarnassus tells us, that, in his 
 time, the place where the asylum had been was 
 consecrated to Jupiter. Romulus did not at first 
 receive the fugitives and outlaws within the walls, 
 but allowed them the hill Satumius, afterwards 
 called Capitolinus, for their habitation. 
 
 t Most of the Trojans, of whom there still 
 remained fifty families in Augustus’s time, chose 
 to follow the lortune of Romulus and Remus, as 
 did also the inhabitants of Pallantium and Sa- 
 tumia, two small towns. 
 
 \ We find no mention either of Remonium or 
 Rignarium in any other writer. An anonym^s 
 MS. reads Remoria : and Festus tells us (De 
 Ling. Latin, lib. ii.) the summit of Mount Aven- 
 
 tine was called Remuria, from the time Remus 
 resolved to build the city there. But Dionysius 
 of Halicarnassus speaks of Mount Aventine and 
 Remuria as two different places ; and Stephanus 
 will have Remuria to have been a city in the 
 neighbourhood of Rome. 
 
 * The two brothers first differed about the place 
 where their new city was to be built, and referring 
 the matter to their grandfather, he advised them 
 to have it decided by augury. In this augury 
 Romulus imposed upon Remus ; and when the 
 former prevailed that the city should be built upon 
 Mount Palatine, the builders, being divided into 
 two companies, were no better than two factions. 
 At last, Remus, in contempt, leaped over the 
 work, and said, “Just so will the enemy leap 
 over it ! ” whereupon Celer gave him a deadly 
 blow, and answered, “ In this manner will our 
 citizens repulse the enemy.” Some say, that 
 Romulus was so afflicted at the death of his 
 brother, that he would have laid violent hands 
 upon himself, if he had not been prevented. 
 
ROMULUS. 17 
 
 with his fosterfathers, in Remonia, and then built 
 his city, having sent for persons from Hetruria,* 
 who (as is usual in sacred mysteries), according 
 to stated ceremonies and written rules, were to 
 order and direct how everything was to be done. 
 First, a circular ditch was dug about what is now 
 called the Comitium, or Hall of Justice, and the 
 first frriits of everything that is reckoned either 
 good by use, or necessary by nature, were cast 
 into it ; and then each bringing a small quantity 
 of the earth of the coimtry from whence he 
 came, threw it in promiscucusly.t This ditch 
 had the name of Mundus, the same with that 
 of the universe. In the next place, they marked 
 out the city, hke a circle, round this centre ; 
 and the founder having fitted to a plough a 
 brazen ploughshare, and yoked a bull and cow, 
 himself drew a deep furrow round the boun- 
 daries. The business of these that followed 
 was to turn all the clods raised by the plough 
 inwards to the city, and not to suffer any to 
 remain outwards. This line described the com- 
 I>ass of the city; and between it and the walls 
 is a space called, by contraction, Pomerium, as 
 lying behind or beyond the wall. Where they 
 designed to have a gate, they took the plough- 
 share out of the ground, and lifted up the plough, 
 making a break for it. Hence they look upen 
 the whole wall as sacred, except the gateways 
 If they considered the gates in the same light as 
 the rest, it would be deemed unlawful either to 
 receive the necessaries of life by them, or to cany 
 out through them what is imclean. 
 
 The day on which they began to build the city 
 is univer^lly allowed to be the twenty-first of 
 April ; Md is celebrated annually by the Romans 
 as the birth-day of Rome. At first, we are told, 
 they sacrificed nothing that had life, persuaded 
 that they ought to keep the solemnity sacred to 
 the birth of their country pure, and without 
 . bloodshed. Nevertheless, before the city was 
 built, on that same day, they had kept a pastoral 
 j feast called Palilia.J At present, indeed, there 
 
 is very little analogy between the Roman and the 
 Grecian months ; yet the day on which Romulus 
 founded the city, is strongly affrmed to b-e the 
 thirteenth of the month. On thar dav, too, we 
 are mformed, there was a conjuncticn of the sun 
 and moon, attended with an eclipse, the same 
 that was observed by Andmachus, the Teian 
 poet, in the third year of the sixth OljTnpiad. 
 
 \ arro the philosopher, who of all the Romans 
 was most .skilled in history, had an acquaintance 
 named Tarutius, who, b^de his knowledge in 
 philosophy and the mathematics, to indulge his 
 speculative turn, had applied himself to astrologv, 
 and w^ thought to be a perfect master of it. To 
 him Varro proposed to find out the day and hour 
 of Romulus’s birth, making hi»; calculation frem 
 the known events of his life, as problems in 
 geometry are solved by the analytic method ; for 
 it belongs to the same science, when a man’s 
 imtivity is given, to predict his life, and when bis 
 life is given, to find out his nativity. Tarurius 
 complied with the request ; and when he had 
 considered the disposition and acticasof Romulus, 
 how long he lh*ed, and in what manner he died, 
 and had put all these things together, he affirmed, 
 without doubt or hesitation, that- his conception 
 was in the first year of the second Olympiad, on 
 the twenty-third day of the month winch the 
 Egyptians call Choeac [December], at the third 
 hour, when the sen was totally eclipsed ; * and 
 that his birth was on the twenty-third day of the 
 month Thoth [September], about sunrise ; and 
 that he foimded Rome on the ninth of the month 
 Pharmuthi [April], between the second and 
 third hour ; t for it is supposed that the foitunes 
 of cities, as well as men. have their proper periods 
 determined by the position of the stars at the 
 time of their nativity. These, and the like re- 
 lations, may, perhaps, rather please the reader, 
 because they are curicus, than disgust Hm be- 
 cause they are fabulous. 
 
 When the city was buSt, Romulus divided 
 the younger part of the inhabitants into bat- 
 tahons. Each corps consisted of 3000 foot, and 
 300 horse, J and was called a legion, because the 
 
 ♦ The Hetrurians, or Tuscans, had, as Festus in- ' 
 
 • forms us, a sort of ritual, wherein were contained 
 i the ceremonies that were to be observed in building 
 j c.ries, temples, altars, walls and gates. They were 
 1 instructed in augury and religious rites by Tages. 
 
 who is said to have been taught b3* Mercury. 
 
 t Ovid^ does not say it was a handful of the 
 earth each had brought out of his own country, 
 but of the earth he had taken from his neigh- 
 bours’ ; which was done to signify that Rome 
 j would soon subdue the ne'ghbo'oring nations. 
 
 • Bat Isidorus (hb. xxv. cap. ii.) is of opinion, that 
 by throwing the first fimits and a handfril cf 
 earth into the trench, they admonished the heads 
 of the colony, that it ought to be their chief study 
 
 . to procure for their fellow-citizens all the con- 
 veniences of life, to maintain peace and union 
 1 amongst a people come together from different 
 parts of the world, and by this to form themselves 
 into a body never to be dissolved. 
 
 “t The Palilia, or Feast of Pales, is sometimes 
 called Parilia, from the Latm word to 
 
 hring^ /orth^ because prayers were then made for 
 the fruitfulness of the sheep. According to Ovid 
 (Fast. hb. iv.) the shepherd then made a great 
 feast at night, and concluded the whole with 
 dicing over the fires they had made in the fields 
 with heaps of straw. 
 
 * There was no total eclipse of the sun in the 
 first year of the second Olympiad, but in the 
 second year of that Olympiad there was. If 
 Romulus was conceived in the year last named, 
 it utII agree with the common opinion, that he 
 was eighteen years old when he founded Rome, 
 and that Rome was founded in the first year of 
 the seventh Olympiad. 
 
 t There is great disagreement among histcrians 
 and chronclogers, as to the year of the foundation 
 of Rome, Varro places it in the third year cf 
 the sixth Olympiad, 752 years before the Christian 
 .Era ; and Fabius Pictor, who is the most ancient 
 of all the Roman writers, and followed bj* the 
 learned Usher, places it in the end of the seventh 
 Olympiad, which, according to that prelate, was 
 in the year cf the world 3356, and 748 before 
 Christ. But Dionysius Halicarnassus, Sohnus, 
 and Eusebius, place it in the first year of the 
 seventh Olympiad. 
 
 J Instead of this, Dionysius of Halicarnassus 
 tells us (lib. ii. p. 76,' the whole colony consisted 
 of but 3500 men. These Romulus divided into 
 three equtd parts, which he called tribes or thirds, 
 each cf which was to oe commanded by its prefect 
 or tribune. The tribes were divid^ into tea 
 
 r 
 
PLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 most warlike persons were selected. The rest of 
 the multitude he called The People. A hundred 
 of the most considerable citizens he took for his 
 council, with the title of Patricians,* and the 
 whole body was called the Senate, which signifies 
 an Assembly of Old Men. Its members were 
 stjded Patricians; because, as some say, they 
 were fathers of freeborn children ; or rather, 
 
 ! according to others, because they themselves had 
 fathers to show, which was not the case with 
 many of the rabble that first flocked to the city. 
 Others derive the title from Patrocinium, or 
 Patronage, attributing the origin of the term to 
 one Patron, who came over with Evander, and 
 was remarkable for his humanity and care of the 
 distressed. But we shall be nearer the truth, if 
 we conclude that Romulus styled them Patricians 
 as expecting these respectable persons would 
 watch over those in humble stations with a pa- 
 ternal care and regard ; and teaching the com- 
 monalty in their turn not to fear or envy the 
 power of their superiors, but to behave to them 
 with love and respect, both looking upon them as 
 fathers, and honouring them with that name. 
 For at this very time, foreign nations call the 
 Senators Lords, but the Romans themselves call 
 them Conscript Fathers, a style of greater dignity 
 and honour, and withal much less invidious. At 
 first, indeed, they were called Fathers only but 
 afterwards, when more were enrolled in their 
 body. Conscript Fathers. With this venerable 
 title, then, he distinguished the senate from the 
 people. He likewise made another distinction 
 between the nobility and the commons, calling 
 the tormer Patrons,! and the others Clients ; 
 which was the source of mutual kindness and 
 many good offices between them. For the Patrons 
 were to those they had taken under their pro- 
 
 curise, and these sub-divided into ten decurise. 
 The number of houses, or rather huts, which was 
 but a thousand, bear witness to the truth of 
 Dionysius’s assertion. But it is probable the 
 mean rabble, who took the protection of the 
 asylum, and who might be very numerous, were 
 not reckoned among the 3300 first colonists, 
 though they were afterwards admitted to the 
 privileges of citizens. 
 
 * The choice of these hundred persons was not 
 made by the king himself : each tribe chose three 
 senators, and each of the thirty curise the like 
 number, which made in all the number of ninety- 
 nine ; so that Romulus named only the hundredth, 
 who was the head, or prince of the senate, and 
 the chief governor of the city, when the king was 
 in the field. 
 
 t This patronage was as effectual as any con- 
 sanguinity or alliance, and had a wonderful 
 effect towards maintaining union among the 
 people for the space of 620 years, during which 
 time we find no dissensions or jealousies between 
 the patrons and their clients, even in the time of 
 the republic, when the populace frequently 
 mutinied against those who were most powerful 
 in the city. At last, the great sedition raised by 
 Caius Gracchus broke in upon that harmony. In- 
 deed, a client who was wanting in his duty to his 
 patron, was deemed a traitor and an outlaw, and 
 liable to be put to death by any person whatever. 
 It may be proper to observe, that not only ple- 
 beians chose their patrons, but in time cities and 
 states put themselves under the like protection. 
 
 tection, coun.sellors and advocates in their suits at 
 law, and advisers and assistants on all occasions. 
 On the other hand, the Clients failed not in their 
 attentions, whether they were to be shown in 
 deference and respect, or in providing their 
 daughters portions, or in satisfying their creditors, 
 if their circumstances happened to be narrow. 
 No law or magistrate obliged the Patron to be 
 evidence against his Client, or the Client against 
 his^ Patron. But in aftertimeSj though the other 
 claims continued in full force, it was looked upon 
 as ungenerous for persons of condition to take 
 money of those below them. 
 
 _ In the fourth month after the building of the 
 city,* as Fabius informs us, the rape of the 
 Sabine women was put in execution. Some say, 
 Romulus himself, who was naturally warlike and 
 persuaded by certain oracles that the Fates had 
 decreed Rome to obtain her greatness by military 
 achievements, began hostilities against the Sa- 
 bines, and seized only thirty virgins, being more 
 desirous of war than of wives for his people. 
 But this is not likely For, as he saw his city 
 soon filled^ with inhabitants, very few of whom 
 wpe married, the greatest part consisted of a 
 mixed rabble of mean and obscure persons, to 
 whom no regard was paid, and who were not ex- 
 pecting to settle in any place whatever, the enter- 
 prise naturally took that turn : and he hoped that 
 from this attempt, though not a just one, some 
 alliance and union vnth the Sabines would be ob- 
 tained, when it appeared that they treated the 
 women kindly. In order to this, he first gave 
 out that he had found the altar of some god, 
 which had been covered with earth. This deity 
 they called Census, meaning either the God of 
 Counsel (for with them the word consilium has 
 that signification, and their chief magistrates 
 afterwards were Consuls, persons who were to 
 consult the public good), or else the Equestrian 
 Neptune ; for the altar in the Circus Maximus f 
 is not visible at other times, but during the 
 Circensian games it is uncovered. Some say, it 
 was proper that the altar of that god should be 
 under-ground, because counsel should be as 
 private and secret as possible. Upon this dis- 
 covery, Romulus, by proclamation, appointed a 
 day for a splendid sacrifice, with public games 
 and shows. Multitudes assembled at the time, 
 and he himself presided, sitting among his nobles, 
 clothed in purple. As a signal for the assault, 
 he was to rise, gather up his robe, and fold it 
 about him. Many of his people wore swords 
 that day, and kept their eyes upon him, watch- 
 ing for the signal, which was no sooner given 
 than they drew them, and rushing on with a 
 shout, seized the daughters of the Sabines, but 
 quietly suffered the men to escape. Some say 
 only thirty were carried off, who each gave name 
 to a tribe ; but Valerius Antias makes their 
 number 527 ; and according to Juba,J there were 
 
 * Gellius says, it was in the fourth year. 
 
 *! That is to say, in the place where Ancus 
 Martins afterwards built the great Circus for horse 
 and chariot races. 
 
 X This was the son of Juba, king of Mauri- 
 tania, who, being brought very young a captive 
 to Rome, was instructed in the Roman and 
 Grecian literature, and became an excellent his- 
 torian. Dionysius of Halicarnassus has followed 
 his account. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 19 
 
 683, all vir^ns. This was the best apology for 
 Romulus ; for they had taken but one married 
 woman, named fiersilia, who was aftervrards 
 chiefly concerned in reconciling them ; and her 
 they took by mistake, as they were not incited 
 to this \dolence by lust or injustice, but by their 
 desire to conciliate and unite the two nations in 
 the strongest ties. Some tell us, Hersilia was 
 married to Hostilius, one of the most eminent 
 men among the Romans ; others, that Romulus 
 himself married her, and had two children by 
 her; a daughter named Prima, on account of 
 her being first bom, and an only son, whom he 
 called Aollius, because of the great concourse of 
 people to him, but after ages, Abiliius. This 
 account we have from Zenodotus of Troezene, 
 but he is contradicted in it by many other his- 
 torians. 
 
 Among those that committed his rape, we are 
 told, some of the meaner sort happened to be 
 carrying off a virgin of uncommon beauty and 
 stature; and when some of superior rank that 
 met them attempted to take her from them, 
 they cried out, they were conducting her to Tala- 
 sius, a 3"oung man of excellent character. WTen 
 they heard this, they applauded their design; 
 and some even tum^ back and accompanied 
 them with the utmost satisfaction, all the way 
 exclaiming Talasius. Hence this became a term 
 in the nuptial songs of the Romans, as H^menaeus 
 is in those of the Greeks ; for Talasius is said to 
 have been very happy in marriage. But Sextius 
 Sylla, the Carthaginian, a man beloved both by 
 the Muses and Graces, told me, that this was the 
 word which Romulus gave as a signal for the 
 rape. All of them, -therefore, as they were 
 carrying off the virgins, cried out Talasius ; and 
 thence it still continues the custom at marriages. 
 Most writers, however, and Juba in particular, 
 are of opinion that it is only an incitement to 
 good housewifery and spinning, which the word 
 Talasia signifies ; Italian terms being at that 
 time thus mLxed with Greek.* If this be right. 
 
 * The original, which runs thus : 0< 3 e irXeto-Toi 
 I elu/ Kai 6 Io/5a? rta-riy zrapaK.\ri<Tiv eivai 
 
 ipiXcpytav Kai TaXactav, ovtw totc toI? 'EXXtji i- 
 Koii ovofiao’t Ttov IraXticcdv er-iKexi’.«e5-&>»', is mani- 
 festl}*^ corrupted ; and all the former translations, 
 follo\N'ing corrupt reading, assert what is utterly 
 false, namely, “that no Greek terms were then 
 mixed with the language of Italy.” The contrary 
 appears from Plutarch’s Life of Numa, where 
 Greek terms are mentioned as frequently used by 
 the Romans : tcov ‘EXXtji'jkcow ovojjiaTfov Tore 
 /jiaWov fj wv Tolr Aarivoi? a\aK€Kpa)U€V(tH'. 
 
 But not to have recourse to facts, let us inquire 
 into the several former translations. The Latin 
 runs .thus: “ Plerique (inter quos est Juba) 
 adhortationem et incitationem ad laboris seduli- 
 tatem et lanificium, quod Grseci raXacriav dicimt, 
 censent noudum id temporis Italicis verbis cum I 
 Grsecis confusis.” The English thus : “ But ’ 
 most are of opinion, and Juba in particular, that 
 this word Ta/aszus was used to new married ■ 
 women, by way of incitem.ent to good house- | 
 wiferj*; for the Greek word Talas:\i signifies 
 and the language of Italy was not yet | 
 mixed with the Greek.” The French of Dacier ! 
 thus : “ Cependant la plupart des auteurs croient, j 
 et Jnba est meme de cette opinion, que ce mot ' 
 n’etoit qu’une e.xhortation qu’on faisoit aux ma- j 
 
 ^d the Romans did then use the wcrd Talasia 
 in the same sense \snth the Greeks, another and 
 more probable reason of the custom may be as- 
 ^ si^ed. For when the Sabines, after the war 
 j with the Romans, were reconciled, conditions 
 j were obtained for the women, that they should 
 I not be obliged by their husbands to do any other 
 j work besides spinning. It was customary, there- 
 j fore, ever after, that they who gave the bride, or 
 conducted her home, or were present on the 
 occasion, should cry out, amidst the mirth of 
 the wedding, Talasizis ; intimating that she was 
 j not to be employed in any other labour but that 
 of spinning. And it is a custom still observed, 
 for the bride not to go over the threshold of her 
 husband’s house herself, but to be carried over, 
 because the Sabine virgins did not go in volun- 
 tarily, but were carried in by violence. Some 
 add, that the bride’s hair is parted with the 
 point of a spear, in memory of the first marriages 
 being brought about in a warlike ma.nr.er ; of 
 which we have spoken more fully in the Book of 
 Questions. This rape was committed on the 
 eighteenth day of the month then called Sextiiis, 
 now August, at which time the feast of the Con- 
 sualia is kept. 
 
 The Sabines were a numerous and warlike 
 people, but^ey dwelt in unwalled towns ; thinking 
 , it became them, who were a colony of the Lacedae- 
 I monians, to be bold and fearless. But as the5' 
 
 ' saw themselves bound by such pledges, and were 
 I very solicitous for their daughters, they sent 
 1 ambassadors to Romulus with moderate and 
 j equitable demands : That he should return them 
 I the young women, and disavow the violence, and 
 I then the two nations should proceed to establish 
 . a correspondence, and contract alliances in a 
 friendly and legM way. Romulus, however, 
 refused to part with the young women, and en- 
 
 ^ riees d’aimer le travail, qui consiste a filer de la 
 laine, que les Grecs appeUent Taiasza ; car en ce 
 tems-la la langue Grecque n'avoit pas encore ete 
 corrompue par les mots Latins.” Thus they de- 
 clare with one consent, that the language of Italy 
 was not yet mixed v^ith the Greek ; though it ap- 
 pears from what n*as said immediately before, that 
 Talasia, a Greek term, was made use of in that 
 language. Instead, therefore, of oi'xo, yet^ 
 we should most certainly read ov-o, thus : oito 
 TOTc Totr ~E\\t]vikoi 9 ovojJLaai twv IraXzK&jv ext- 
 KcxviJLevm', “the language of Italy being at that 
 time thus mixed with Greek terms ; for instance, 
 Talasia T By this emendation, which consists 
 only of the small alteration of the into t, the 
 sense is easy, the context clear, Plutarch is re- 
 conciled to himself, and freed from the charge 
 of contradicting in one breath what he had as- 
 serted in another. 
 
 If this wanted any farther support, we might 
 allege a passage from Plutarch’s Marcellus, 
 which, as well as that in the Life of Numa, is ex- 
 press and decisive. Speaking there of the deriva- 
 tion of the word Fcreirius, an appellation which 
 Jupiter probably first had in the time of Romulus, 
 on occasion of his consecrating to him the sfolia 
 cpima; one account he gives of the matter is, 
 that Fereirius might be derived from t^cerpovy 
 the vehicle on which the trophy was carried, Kara 
 Tuv *E.\X»i><3a 'jX&xrcrav ert ttoXXijv tot€ ci'/iuc- 
 juiyuetiiv TIT AaTtKBv ; “for at that time the 
 Greek language was much mLxed with the Latin.” 
 
20 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 treated the Sabines to give their sanction to what 
 had been done ; whereupon some of them lost 
 time in consulting and making preparations. But 
 Acron, king of the Ceninensians, a man of spirit 
 and an able general, suspected the tendency of 
 Romulus’s first enterprises; and, when he had 
 behaved so boldly in the rape, looked upon him 
 as one that would grow formidable, and indeed 
 insufferable to his neighbours, except he were 
 chastised. Acron, therefore, went to seek the 
 enemy, and Romulus prepared to receive him. 
 When they ca me in sight, and had well viewed 
 each other, a challenge for single combat was 
 mutually given, their forces standing under arms 
 in silence, Romulus on this occasion made a vow, 
 that if he conquered his enemy, he would -himself 
 dedicate his adversary’s arms to Jupiter : in con- 
 sequence of which, he both overcame Acron, and, 
 after battle was joined, routed his army, and took 
 his city. But he did no injury to its inhabitants, 
 unless it were such to order them to demolish 
 their houses, and follow him to Rome, as citizens 
 entitled to equal privileges with the rest. Indeed, 
 there was nothing that contributed more to the 
 greatness of Rome, than that she was always 
 uniting and incorporating with herself those whom 
 she conquered. Romulus iiaving considered how 
 he should perform his vow in the most acceptable 
 manner to Jupiter, and withal make the pro- 
 cession most agreeable to his people, cut down 
 a great oak that grew in the camp, and hewed it 
 into the figure of a trophy; to this he fastened 
 Acron’s whole suit of armour, disposed in its 
 proper form. Then he put on his own robes, 
 and wearing a crown of laurel on his head, his 
 hair gracefully flowing, he took the trophy erect 
 upon his right shoulder, and so marched on, 
 singing the song of victory before his troops, 
 which followed, completely armed, while the 
 citizens received him wdth joy and admiration. 
 This procession was the origin and model of 
 future triumphs. The trophy was dedicated to 
 Jupiter Feretrius, so called from the Latin word, 
 ferire * to smite ; for Romulus had prayed that 
 he might have power to smite his adversary and 
 kill him. Varro says, this sort of spoils is termed 
 oJ>imay\ from opes, which signifies riches : But 
 more probably they are so styled from opnis, the 
 meaning of which is action. For when the 
 general of an army kills the enemy’s general with 
 his o\vn hand, then only he is allowed to consecrate 
 the spoils called opima, as the sole performer of 
 that action J This honour has been conferred 
 
 only on three Roman chiefs ; first on Romulus, 
 when he slew Acron the Ceninensian ; next on 
 Cornelius Cossus, for killing Tolumnius the 
 Tuscan ; and lastly, on Claudius Marcellus. when 
 Viridomarus, king of the Gauls, fell by his' hand. 
 Cossus and Marcellus bore, indeed, the trophies 
 thernselves, but drove into Rome in triumphal 
 chariots. But Dionysius is mistaken in saying 
 that Romulus made use of a chariot ; for some 
 historians assert that Tarquinius the son of 
 Demaratus, was the first of the kings that ad- 
 vanced triumphs to this pomp and grandeur : 
 Others say, Bublicola was the first that led up 
 t>>is triumph in a chariot. However, there are 
 statues of Romulus bearing these trophies yet to 
 be seen in Rome, which are all on foot. 
 
 After the defeat of the Ceninenses, while the 
 rest of the Sabines were busied in preparations, 
 the people of Fidenae, Crustumenium, and 
 Antemns, united against the Romans. A battle 
 ensued, in which they were likewise defeated, and 
 surrendered to Romulus their cities to be spoiled, 
 their lands to be divided, and themseDes to be 
 transplanted to Rome. All the lands thus ac- 
 quired, he distributed among the citizens, except 
 what belonged to the parents of the stolen virgins ; 
 for those he left in the possession of their former 
 ovraers. The rest of the Sabines, enraged at this, 
 appointed Tatius their general, and carried war 
 to the gates of Rome. The city was difficult of 
 access, having a strong garrison on the hill where 
 the Capitol now stands, commanded by Tarpeius, 
 not by the virgin Tarpeia, as some say, who in 
 this represent Romulus as a very weak man. 
 However, this Tarpeia, the governor’s daughter, 
 charmed with the golden bracelets of the Sabines, 
 betrayed the fort into their hands ; and asked, in 
 return for her treason, what they wore on their left 
 arms. Tatius agreeing to the condition, she 
 opened one of the gates by night, and let in the 
 Sabmes. It seems, it was not the sentiment of 
 Antigonus alone, who said, “ He loved men while 
 they were betraying, but hated them when they 
 had betrayed ; ” nor of Csesar, who said, in the 
 case of Rhymitalces the Thracian, “ He loved the 
 treason but hated the traitor : ” But men are 
 commonly ^ected towards villains, whom they 
 have occasion for, just as they are towards 
 venomous creatures, which they have need of for 
 their poison and their gall. While they are of 
 use they love them, but abhor them when their 
 purpose is effected. Such were the sentiments of 
 Tatius with regard to Tarpeia, when he ordered 
 the Sabines to remember their promise, and to 
 grudge her nothing which they had on their left 
 arms. He was the first to take off his bracelet, 
 and throw it to her, and with that his shield. * As 
 every one did the same she was overpowered by 
 the gold and shields thrown upon her, and sinking 
 under the weight, expired. Tarpeius, too, w^as 
 taken and condemned by Romulus for treason, as 
 Juba writes after Sulpitius Galba. As for the 
 
 * Or from the word fer^e, to carry, because 
 Romulus had himself carried to the Temple of 
 Jupiter the armour of the king he had killed ; or, 
 more probably, from the Greek word pkeretro 7 i, 
 which Livy calls in Latin ferctilum, and which 
 properly signifies a trophy. 
 
 f Festus derives the word opmia from ops, 
 which signifies the earth, and the riches it pro- 
 duces ; so that opima spolia, according to that 
 writer, signify rich spoils. 
 
 J This is Livy’s account of the matter ; but 
 Varro, as quoted by Festus, tells us, a Roman 
 might be entitled to the spolia opima, though but 
 a private soldier, miles manip7ilaris, provided he 
 killed and despoiled the enemy’s general. Accord- 
 ingly Cornelius Cossus had them, for killing 
 Tolumnius, king of the Tuscans, though Cossus 
 was but a tribune, who fought under the command 
 
 of iEmilius. Cossus, therefore, in all probability, 
 did not enter Rome in a triumphal chariot, but 
 followed that of his general, with the trophy on 
 his shoulder. 
 
 * Piso and other historians say, that Tatius 
 treated her in this manner, because she acted a 
 double part, and endeavoured to betray the 
 Sabines to Romulus, while she was pretending to 
 betray the Romans to them. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 21 
 
 account given of Tarpeia by other writers, among 
 whom Antigonus is one, it is absurd and in- 
 credible. They say, that she was daughter to 
 Tatius the Sabine general, and, being comi>elIed 
 to hve with Romulus, she acted and suffered thus 
 by her father’s contrivance. But the poet Simulus 
 makes a most egregious blunder, when he ^ys, 
 Tarpeia betrayed the Capitol, not to the Sabines, 
 but to the Gauls, having fallen in love with their 
 king Thus he writes : 
 
 From her high dome, Taipeia, wretched maid. 
 
 To the fell Gauls the Capitol betra/d ; 
 
 The hapless victim of unchaste desir^. 
 
 She lost the fortress of her sceptred sires. 
 
 And a little after, concerning her death : 
 
 No amorous Celt, no fierce Bavarian, bore 
 The fair Tarpeia to his stormy shore ; 
 
 Press’d by those shields, w'hose splendour she 
 admired. 
 
 She sunk, and in the shining death expired. 
 
 From the place where Tarpeia was buried, the 
 hill had the name of the Tarpeian, till Tarquin 
 consecrated the place to Jupiter, at w'hich time 
 her bones were removed, and so it lost her name ; 
 except that part of the Capitol from w'hich male- 
 factors are thrown down, which is still called the 
 Tarpeian rock. The Sabines thus possessed of 
 the fort, Romulus in great fury offered them battle, 
 which Tatius did not decline, as he saw he had 
 a place of strength to retreat to, in case he was 
 w'orsted. And, indeed, the spot on w'hich he w'as 
 to engage, being surrounded with hills, seemed to 
 romise on both sides a sharp and bloody contest, 
 ecause it was so confined, and the outlets were 
 so narrow, that it was not easy either to fly or to 
 pursue. It happened too, that, a few' days ^fore, 
 the river had o>'erflowed, and left a deep mud on 
 the plain, where the Forum now stands ; which, 
 as it was covered with a crust, was not easily dis- 
 coverable by the eye, but at the same time w as 
 soft imdemeath and impracticable. The Sabines, 
 ignorant of this, were pushing forward into it, but 
 by good fortune were prevented : For Curtius, a 
 man of high distinction and spirit, being moimted 
 on a good horse, advanced a considerable way 
 before the rest.* Presently his horse plimged 
 into the slough, and for a while he endeavoured 
 to disengage him, encouraging him with his voice, 
 
 * Livy and Dionysius of Halicarnassus relate 
 the matter otherwise. They teU us, that Curtiim 
 at first repulsed the Romans; but being in his 
 turn overpow'ered by Romulus, and endeavourag 
 to make good his retreat, he happened to fall into 
 the lake, w’hich from that time bore his name : 
 For it was called Lacus Curtius, even when it was 
 dried up, and almost in the centre of the Roman 
 Forum. Procilius says, that the earth having 
 opened, the Aruspices declared it necessary for 
 the safety of the republic, that the bravest man 
 in the city should throw himself into the guLi ; 
 whereupon one Curtius, mounting on horseback, 
 leaped armed into it, and the gulf immediately 
 closed. Before the building of the common sewers, 
 this pool was a sort of sink, which received all the 
 filth of the city. Some writers think that it re- 
 ceived its name from Curtius the consul, colleague 
 to M. Genucius, because he caused it to be walled 
 in by the advice of the Aruspices, after it had 
 been struck with lightning. Varro de Ling. 
 Lat. 1. iv. 
 
 and urging him with blows ; but finding all in- 
 effectual, he quitted him, and saved himself. 
 From him the place, to this very time, is called 
 the Curtian Lake. The Sabines, having escaped 
 this danger, began the fight with great bravery. 
 The victory inclined to neither side, thot^h many 
 w'ere slain, and among the rest Hostilius ; who 
 they say, was husband to Hersilia, and grand- 
 father to that Hostilius who reigned after Numm 
 It is probable, there were many other battles in 
 a short time ; but the most memorable was the 
 last ; in which Romulus having received a blow 
 upon the head w'ith a stone, was almost beaten 
 dowm to the ground, and no longer able to oppose 
 the enemy ; then the Romans gave waj', ^d w ere 
 driven firom the plain as far as the Palatine Hill. 
 By rbi«^ time Romulus recovering from the shock, 
 endeavoured by force to stop his men in their 
 flight, and loudly called upon them to stand and 
 renew the engagement. But w'hen he saw the 
 ro'ut was general, and that no one had courage to 
 face about, he lifted up his hands towards heaven, 
 and prayed to Jupiter to stop the army, and to 
 re-establish and maintain the Roman cause, which 
 was now in extreme danger. When the prayer 
 was ended, man y of the fugitives were struck with 
 reverence for their king, and their fear was changed 
 into courage. Thet*^ first stopped where now stands 
 the temple of Jupiter Stator, so called from his 
 putting a stop to their flight. ITiere they engaged 
 again, and repulsed the Sabines as ^ as the 
 palace now called Regia, and the temple of 
 Yesta. 
 
 Whea they vcere prepa^g here to renew the 
 combat with the same anim osity as at first, their 
 ardour was repressed by an astonishing spectacle, 
 which the powers of language are unable to de- 
 scribe. The daughters of the Sabines, that had 
 been forcibly carried off, appeared rushing this 
 way and that with loud cries and lamentations, 
 like persons distracted, amidst the drawn s^vords, 
 and over the dead bodies, to come at their hus- 
 bands and fathers ; some carrying their infants in 
 their arms, some darting forward with dishevelled 
 hair, but all calling by turns both upon the Sabines 
 and the Romans, by the tenderest names. Both 
 parties were extremely moved, and room was 
 made for them between the r.vo armies. 'Their 
 lamentations pierced to the utmost ranks, and all 
 were deeply affected ; particularly when their up- 
 braiding and complaints ended in supplication 
 and entreaty. “ Wmat great injury have we done 
 you (said they), that we have suffered, and do 
 still suffer so many miseries ? We were carried 
 off, by those who now have us, violently and 
 illegally : After this violence we were so long 
 neglected by our brothers, ourjathers, and re- 
 lations, that vre were necessitated to mute in the 
 strongest ties ulth those that were the objects of 
 our hatred ; and we are now brought to tremble 
 for the men that had injured us so much, when 
 we see them in danger, and to lament them when 
 they fail. For you came not to deliver us from 
 violence, while virgins, or to avenge our cause, 
 but now you tear the wives from their husbands, 
 and the mothers from their children ; an assistance 
 more grievous to us than all your neglect and dis- 
 regard Such love we experienced from them, 
 and such compassion from you. Were the war 
 undertaken in seme other cause, yet surely you 
 would stop its ravages for us, who have made 
 you fathers-in-law and grandfathers, or otheiw'ise 
 
22 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 placed you in some near affinity to those whom 
 you seek to destroy. But if the war be for us, 
 take us, with your sons-in-Iaw and their children 
 and restore us to our parents and kindred ; but 
 ’ beseech you rob us of our children 
 husbands, lest we become captives again.” 
 Hysiha having said a great deal to this purpose, 
 and others joining in the same request, a truce 
 was a^eed upon, and the generals proceeded to 
 a conference. In the mean time the women pre- 
 f husbands and children to their fathers 
 t brought refreshments to those that 
 
 wanted theim and carried the wounded home to 
 ^ they showed them, that they 
 of their own houses, what atten- 
 tions their husbands paid them, and with what 
 respect and indulgence they were treated. Upon 
 ^°^t:Iuded, the conditions of which 
 vWth Vw ^ ^bose to remain 
 
 laKr! husbands, should be exempt from all 
 drudgeiy, except spinning, as we have 
 W ° p ^ city should be inhabited 
 
 by tti^ Romans and Sabines in common, with the 
 ?®"^%b-om Romulus ; but that all the 
 Cures, tlm capital of the Sabines, 
 ^d the country of Tatius, should be called 
 Quiri-es; and that the regal power, and the 
 command of the army, should be equally shared 
 between thern. The place where these articles 
 ere ratified is still called Comitium,f from the 
 L^m word c^zre, which signifies assemble. 
 
 . city havnng doubled the number of its 
 inhabitants, a hundred additional senators were 
 elected from arnong the Sabines, and the legion 
 were to consist of 6000 foot, and 600 horse. X The 
 people, too, were divided into three tribes, called 
 Rhamnenses, from Romulus; Tatienses, from 
 
 I • *^bj ^ord QuiriSy in the Sabine languao-e 
 both a dart, and a warlike deity armed 
 wth a dart. It is uncertain whether the god gave 
 name to the dart, or the dart to the god ; but how- 
 ^er that be, this god Quiris or Quirinus was either 
 Mars, or some other god of war, and was wor- 
 wa ^ ^ 3 ”^® till Romulus, who after his death 
 of Quirinus, took his 
 
 Poio?^® Comitium was at the foot of the hill 
 Palaanus over against the Capitol. Not far from 
 thence the two kings built the temple of Vulcan 
 where they usually met to consult the senate about 
 the most important affairs. 
 
 X Ruauld, in his animadversions upon Plutarch 
 
 ifljbs^vered two considerable errors in this 
 ^Vb^^ Plutarch affirms there 
 were 600 horse put by Romulus in every legion 
 whereas there never were, at any time, so many 
 m any 01 the legions. For there were at first 200 
 ; after that, they rose to 300, 
 and at last to 400, but never came up to 600 In 
 the second place he tells us, that R^^mulus made 
 the legion to consist of 6000 foot ; whereas in his 
 time It was never more than 3000. It is said by 
 that Manus was the first who raised the 
 legion to 6000 ; but Livy informs us, that that 
 aupentatipn was made by Scipio Africanus long 
 before Manus. After the expulsion of the kings^ 
 
 W £ d^ tn 1333 ^ by Scipio (as we 
 
 3333 ^ bcoo- . But this was never done but 
 
 upon pressmg occasions. The stated force of a 
 legion was 4000 foot, and 200 horse. 
 
 ^ Lucerenses, from the Lua^s, or 
 asylum stood, whither many 
 had fled, and were admitted citizens. That thev 
 were precisely three, appears from the ve3^ nam3 
 of Tribes, and that of their chief officers nffio 
 contS'd 'ten 
 
 afti? th3 ’^bich some say were called 
 
 fa£- ^^bme women. But this seems to be 
 SL ’ have their names from 
 
 the several quarters of the city which were as^ 
 signed to them. Many honourable privileges 
 3f conferred upon the women ; some 
 
 of which were these: That the men should give 
 tW sbn3dT^%'^bcrever they met them ; fhat 
 should not mention an obscene word, or 
 kd W °^bed, before them ; that in case of their 
 ^bey should not be tried before 
 J^bges; and that their children 
 ornament about their necks, called 
 hullUy from Its likeness to a bubble, and a o-ar- 
 with purple. The two kings“did 
 not presently quit_ their councils ; each meeting 
 or some time, their hundred senators apart ; but 
 afterwards they all assembled togethen Tatius 
 
 and I® ‘k® ■>'>«' stands, 
 
 and Romulus by the steps of the Fair Shore as 
 
 hFu to^the r*’ ‘‘F r® descent from the Palatine 
 Hill to the Great Circus. There, we are told 
 ^ew the sacred Cornel-tree ; the fabulous account 
 of which is, that Romulus once, to try his strength 
 fr33\? ^Pfr^'vhose shaft was of cornel-wood; 
 
 ?bat place; the head of 
 ground, that no one 
 33n i b It out, though many tried ; and the 
 3 so nourished the wood, that it 
 
 shot forth branches, and became a trunk of cornel 
 of considerable bigness. This posterity preserved 
 ^ nbing eminently sacred, 
 and th..xefore built a wall about it : and when 
 any one that approached it saw it not very 
 flourishing and green, but inclining to fade and 
 wither, he presently proclaimed it to all he met 
 WHO, as If they were to assist in case of fire, cried 
 33c/7 b-om all quarters with full 
 
 vessels to the place. But when Caius Cmsar 
 ordered the steps to be repaired, and the workmen 
 were digpng near it, it is said they inadvertently 
 injured the roots in such a manner, that the tree 
 withered away. 
 
 , ^^b® received the Roman months. All 
 
 biis subject is mentioned 
 in the life of N uma. Romulus on the other hand 
 -^be .^se of their shields, making an 
 alteration in his o\vn armour, and that of the 
 Romans, who, before, wore bucklers in the 
 manner of tne Greeks. They mutually celebrated 
 3333.° and sacrifices, not abolishing 
 
 those of either nation, but over and above ap- 
 pointing some new ones ; one of which is the 
 
 young men, when they took upon them 
 ^obe, quitted the 
 ^ulla, wbich is supposed to have been a little 
 houow ball of gold, and made an offering of it to 
 gods. As to the 
 WfVWii ^bged with purple, it was worn 
 
 I beir mamage, and by boys till they 
 were seventeen. But wnat in the time of Romulus 
 was a mark of distinction for the children of the 
 babine women, became afterwards very common ; 
 for even the children of the Libertiy or freed men 
 
 J 
 
ROMULUS, 
 
 23 
 
 Matronalia,* instituted in honour of the women, 
 for their putting an end to the war ; and another 
 in Carmentalia. t Carmenta is by some supposed 
 to be one of the Destinies, who presides over 
 / human nativities : therefore she is particularly 
 worshipped by mothers. Others say, she was 
 wife to Evander the Arcadian, and a wornan ad- 
 dicted to divination, who received inspirations 
 from Apollo, and delivered oracles in verse ; 
 thence called Carmenta, for carmina signifies 
 verse ; but her proper name, as is agreed on all 
 hands, was Nicostrata. Others, again, with 
 greater probability assert that the_ former name 
 was given her because she was distracted with 
 enthusiastic fury ; for carere mente signifies to be 
 insane. Of the feast of Palilia, we have already 
 given an account. As for the Lupercalia, J by 
 the time, it should seem to be a feast of lustra- 
 tion ; for it was celebrated on one of the in- 
 auspicious days of the month of February,^ which 
 name denotes it to be the month of Purifying ; 
 and the day was formerly called Februata. But 
 the true meaning of Lupercalia is the Feast of 
 Wolves ; and it seems, for that reason, to be very 
 ancient, as received from the Arcadians, who 
 came over with Evander. This is the general 
 opinion. But the term may be derived from 
 Lupa, a she wolf; for we see the Luperci begin 
 their course from the place where they say 
 Romulus was exposed. Hov/ever, if we consider 
 the ceremonies, the reason of the name seems 
 hard to guess : For first, goats are killed ; then 
 two noblemen’s sons are introduced, and some are 
 to stain their foreheads with a bloody knife, 
 others to wipe off the stain directly, with wool 
 steeped in milk, which they bring for that pur- 
 pose. When it is wiped off, the young meri are 
 to laugh. After this they cut the goats’ skin in 
 pieces, and run about all naked, except their 
 middle, and lash with those thongs all they meet. 
 The young women avoid not the stroke, as they 
 think it assists conception and childbirth. An- 
 other thing proper to this feast is, for the Luperci 
 to sacrifice a dog. Butas, who in his Elegies has 
 given a fabulous account of the origin of the 
 Roman institutions, writes, that when Romulus 
 had overcome Amulius, in the transports of 
 victory he ran with great speed to the place 
 where the wolf suckled him and his brother, when 
 
 * During this feast, such of the Roman women 
 as were married, served their slaves at table, and 
 received presents from their husbands, as the 
 husbands did from their wives in the time of the 
 Saturnalia. As the festival of the Matronal ia was 
 not only observed in honour of the Sabine women, 
 but consecrated to Mars, and, as some will have 
 it, to Juno Lucina, sacrifices v/ere offered to both 
 these deities. This feast was the subject of 
 Horace’s Ode, Martiis coelebs quid again 
 calendis, etc.^ and Ovid describes it at large in 
 the third Book of Fasti. Dacier says, by mis- 
 take, that this feast was kept on the first of 
 April, instead of the first of hlarch, and the 
 former English annotator has followed him. 
 
 t This is a very solemn feast, kept on the nth 
 of January, under the Capitol, near the Carmental 
 gate. They begged of this goddess to render 
 their women fruitful, and to give them happy 
 deliveries. 
 
 t This festival was celebrated on the nth of 
 February, in honour of the God Pan. 
 
 infants ; and that this feast is celebrated, and the 
 young noblemen run, in imitation of that action, 
 striking all that are in their way : — 
 
 As the famed twins of Rome, Amulius slain. 
 
 From Alba pour’d, and with their reeking swords 
 Saluted all they met. 
 
 And the touching of the forehead with a bloody 
 knife, is a symbol of that slaughter and danger, 
 as the v/iping off the blood with milk is in 
 memory of their first nourishment. But Caius 
 Acilius relates, that before the building of Rome, 
 Romulus and Remus having lost their cattle, 
 first prayed to Faunus for success in the search 
 of them, and then ran out naked to seek them, 
 that they might not be incommoded with sweat ; j 
 therefore the Luperci run about naked. As to j 
 the dog, if this be a feast of lustration, we may | 
 suppose it is sacrificed, in order to be used in 
 purifying ; for the Greeks in their purifications ! 
 make use of dogs, and perform the ceremonies 
 which they call periskulakismoi. But if these 
 rites are observed in gratitude to the tvolf that 
 nourished and preserved Romulus, it is with 
 propriety they kill a dog, because it is an enemy 
 to wolves : yet perhaps, nothing more was meant 
 by it than to punish that creature for disturbing 
 the Luperci in their running. 
 
 Romulus is likewise said to have introduced 
 the Sacred Fire, and to have appointed the holy 
 virgins, called Vestals.* Others attribute this 
 to Numa, but allow that Romulus was remark- 
 ably strict in observing other religious rites, and 
 skilled in divination, for which purpose he bore 
 the Lituus. This is a crooked staff, with which 
 those that sit to observe the flight of birds f 
 describe the several quarters of the heavens. It 
 was kept in the Capitol, but lost when Rome was 
 taken by the Gauls; afterw'ards, when the bar- 
 barians had quitted it, it was found buried deep 
 in ashes, untouched by the fire, whilst everything 
 about it was destroyed and consumed. Romulus 
 also enacted some laws ; amongst the rest that 
 severe one, which forbids the wife in any case 
 to leave her husband,:]; but gives the husband 
 power to divorce his wife, in case of her poison- 
 ing his children, or counterfeiting his keys, or 
 being guilty of adultery. But if on any other 
 occasion he put her away, she was to have one 
 moiety of his goods, and the other was to be 
 consecrated to Ceres ; and whoever put away his 
 
 * Plutarch means that Romulus was the first 
 who introduced the Sacred Fire at Rome. That 
 there were Vestal virgins, however, before this, 
 at Alba, we are certain, because the mother of 
 Romulus was one of them. The sacred and 
 perpetual fire was not only kept up in Italy, 
 but in Egypt, in Persia, in Greece, and almost 
 in all nations. 
 
 f The Augurs. _ 
 
 J Yet this privilege, which Plutarch thinks a 
 hardship upon the women, was indulged the men 
 by Moses in greater latitude. The women, how- 
 ever, among the Romans, came at length to 
 divorce their husbands, as appears from Juvenal 
 (Sat. 9.) and Martial ( 1 . x. ep. 41). At the same 
 time it must be observ^ed, to the honour of Roman 
 virtue, that no divorce \y as known at Rome for 
 520 years. One P. Servilius, or Carvilius Spurius, 
 was the first of the Romans that ever put away 
 his wife. 
 
24 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 wife was to make an atonement to the gods of 
 the earth. It is something particular, that Romu- 
 lus appointed no punishment for actual parricides, 
 but called all murder parricide, looking upon this 
 as abominable, and the other as impossible. For 
 rnany ages, indeed, he seemed to have judged 
 right y ; no one was guilty of that crime in Rome 
 lor almost 600 ye^s ; and Lucius Ostius, after 
 the wars of Hannibal, is recorded to have been 
 the first that murdered his father. 
 
 year of the reign of Tatius, some 
 or his triends and kinsmen meeting certain am- 
 bassadors who were going from Laurentum to 
 Rome,* attempted to rob them on the road, and 
 as they wou d not suffer it, but stood in their own 
 defence, killed them. As this was an atrocious 
 crime Romulus required that those who com- 
 mitted It should immediately be punished, hut 
 latius hesitated and put it off. This was the 
 nrst occasion of any open variance between them : 
 lor till now they had behaved themselves as if 
 directed by one soul, and the administration had 
 been earned on with all possible unanimity. The 
 relations of those that were murdered, finding 
 they could have no legal redress from Tatius, 
 lell u^n him and slew him at Lavinium, as he 
 was offering sacrifice with Romulus but they 
 conducted Romulus back with applause, as a 
 proper regard to justice. To 
 me body of Tatius he gave an honourable inter- 
 ment at Armilustrium, 1; on Mount Aventine ; but 
 fie took no care to revenge his death on the 
 killed him. Sqme historians write, 
 tfiat the Laur^tians in great terror gave up the 
 murderers of Tatius; but Romulus let them go 
 ^ying. Blood with blood should be repaid.” 
 ifiis occasioned a report, and indeed a strong 
 suspicion, that he was not sorry to get rid of his 
 partner in the government. None of these things 
 however, occasioned any disturbance or sedition 
 among the Sabines ; but, partly out of regard for 
 Romulus partly out of fear of his power, or 
 because they reverenced him as a god, they all 
 continued well affected to him. This yeneration 
 tor him extended to many other nations. The 
 ancient Latins sent ambassadors, and entered into 
 league and alliance with him. Fidense, a city in 
 the neighbourhood of Rome, he took, as some 
 say, by sending a body of horse before, with 
 orders to break the hinges of the gates, and then 
 
 gcttcs, ituu men 
 
 appearing unexpectedly in person. Others will 
 have It, that the Fidenates first attacked and 
 ravaged the Roman territories, and were carry- 
 
 * Dionysius of Halicarnassus saj^s, they were 
 ambassadors from^ Lavinium, who had been at 
 Rome to complain _ of the incursions made by 
 Tatius’s friends upon their territories • 
 and that as they were returning, the Sabines lay 
 in wait for them on the road, stripped them, and 
 killed several of them. Lavinium and Laurentum 
 neighbouring towns in Latium. 
 
 T. Probably this was_ a sacrifice to the Dii 
 Indigenes of Latium, in which Rome was in- 
 cluded. But_ Licinius writes, that Tatius went 
 not thither with Romulus, nor on account of the 
 that he went alone, to persuade the 
 inhabitants to pardon the murderers. 
 
 ^ 'Pile place was so called, because of a cere- 
 mony of the same name, celebrated every year 
 on the igth of October, when the troops were 
 mustered, and purified by sacrifices. 
 
 '^hen Romulus lay in 
 of *em off, and took 
 demolish it, 
 
 ut made It a Roman colony, and sent into it 
 2500 inhabitants on the thirteenth of April. 
 
 Alter this a plague broke out so fatal, that 
 without any previous sickness; 
 ca ttle fruits, and barrenness of the 
 
 t^c^ ° the calamity. It rained blood, 
 
 too, in the city ; so that their unavoidable suffer- 
 increased with the terrors of super- 
 stition . and when the destruction spread itself to 
 Laurentum, then all agreed, it was for neglecting 
 to do justice on the murderers of the ambassadors 
 S divine vengeance pursued 
 
 both cities. Indeed, when those murderers were 
 given up and punished by both parties, their 
 calamities visibly abated; and Romulus purified 
 the city with lustrations, which, they tell us, are 
 yet celebrated at the Ferentine gate. Before 
 the pestilence ceased, the people of Cameria* 
 attacked tne Romans, and overran the country, 
 thinking them in^pable of resistance by reason 
 sickness. But Romulus soon met them in 
 the field gave them battle, in which he killed 
 6000 of them, took their city, and transplanted 
 half Its remaining inhabitants to Rome ; addin<^ 
 on the first of August, to those he left in CameriS! 
 double their number from Rome. So many 
 people had he to spare in about sixteen years 
 time from the buildmg of the city. Among other 
 spoils, he carried from Cameria a chariot of brass 
 which he consecrated in the temple of Vulcan 
 plying upon It his own statue crowned by victory! 
 
 His affairs thus flourishing, the weaker part of 
 his neighbours submitted, satisfied if they could 
 but live in peace ; but the more powerful, dread- 
 ing or envying Romulus, thought they should not 
 by any means let hirn go unnoticed, but oppose 
 and put a stop to his growing greatness. The 
 eientes, who had a strong city and extensive 
 country,! were the first ofthe Tuscans who began 
 me war, demanding Fidense as their property, 
 mt It was not only unjust but ridiculous, that 
 they who had given the people of Fidense no 
 as^stance in the greatest extremities, but had 
 suffered them to perish, should challenge their 
 houses and lands now in the possession of other 
 masters. Romulu.s, therefore, gave them a 
 contemptuous answer ; upon which they divided 
 their forces into two bodies; one attacked the 
 garrison of Fidense, and the other went to meet 
 Romulus. That which went against Fidenx 
 defeated the Romans, and killed 2000 of them ; 
 but the other was beaten by Romulus, with the 
 loss 01 more than 8000 men. They gave battle 
 however, once more, at Fidenx, where all allow 
 the victory was chiefly owing to Romulus himself 
 whose skill and courage were then remarkably 
 displayed, and whose strength and swiftness 
 appeared more than human. But what some 
 report is entirely fabulous, and utterly incredible 
 tlmt there fell that day 14,000 men, above half of 
 whom Romulus slew with his own hand. For 
 
 * This was a town which Romulus had taken 
 before.^ Its old inhabitants took this opportunity 
 arms, and kill the Roman garrison, 
 t Veii, the capital of Tuscany, was situated on 
 a craggy rock, about 100 furlongs from Rome ; 
 and IS compared by Dionysius of Halicarnassus 
 to Athens, for extent and riches. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 25 
 
 even the Messenians seem to have been extrava- 
 gant in their boasts, when they tell us Ai^tomenes 
 offered a hecatomb three several tim^, for having 
 as often killed 100 Lacedaemonians. 
 
 Veientes were thus ruined, Romulus suffered the 
 scattered remains to escape, amd marched directly 
 to their city. The inhabitants could not be^ up 
 j after so dreadful a blow, but humbly sumg for a 
 i peace, obtained a truce for 100 years, by gi^nug 
 up a considerable part of their territory caUed 
 i Septempagium, which signifies a distnct of seven 
 towns, together with the salt-pits ’ 
 
 besides which, they delivered into his hands fifty 
 of their nobility as hostages. He triumphed for 
 this on the fifteenth of October, leadmgup, ^ong 
 many other captives, the general of the Veientes, 
 a man in years, who seemed on this occ^ion not 
 to have behaved with the pmdence which nught 
 have been expected firom his age. Hence it is, 
 that, to this day, when they offer a sacrifice for 
 victory, they lead an old man through tl^ Forum 
 to the Capitol, in a boy’s robe, edged with purple, 
 with a bulla about his neck ; and the herald cries, 
 
 “ Sardians to be sold ; ” t for the Tuscans are smd 
 to be a colony of the Sardians, and ^ eii is a city 
 of Tuscany. _ _ . 
 
 This w'as the last of the wars of Romulus. 
 After this he behaved as almost all men do, who 
 rise by some great and unexpected good fc^tme 
 to dignity and power j for, exalted "v^th his 
 exploits, and loftier in his sentiments, he dropped 
 his popular affability, and assumed the monarch 
 to an odious degree. He gave the first offence 
 by his dress ; his habit being a purple vest, 
 v/hich he wore a robe bordered with purple. He 
 gav'e audience in a chair of state . He had always 
 about him a number of young men, called Celeres, + 
 from their dispatch in doing business and before 
 him went men with staves to keep off the populace, 
 who also wore thongs of leather at their girdles, 
 ready to bind directly any per^n he should 
 order to be bound. This binding the Latms 
 formerly called ligarey% now alhgcire : whence 
 those Serjeants are called Lictores, and their rods 
 fasces ; for the sticks they used on that occasion 
 were small. Though, pernaps, at first they were 
 called Litores, and afterwards, by putting in a c, 
 Lictores ; for they are the same that the Greeks 
 called Leitourgoi (officers for the people); ^d 
 leitos, in Greek, still signifies people, but laos 
 the populace. ^ 
 
 * Pausanias confirms this account, mentioning 
 both the time and place of these achievements, as 
 well as the hecatombs offered on account of them 
 to Jupiter Ithomates. Those wars between the 
 Alessenians and Spartans were about the time of 
 Tullus Hostilius. 
 
 t The Veientes, vsath the other Hetrunans, 
 were a colony of Lydians, whose metropolis was 
 the city of Sardis. Other writers date this custom 
 from the time of the conquest of Sardinia by 
 Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus, when such a 
 number of slaves w’as brought from that island, 
 that none w'ere to be seen in the market but 
 Sardinians. 
 
 X Romulus ordered the Curiae to choose him a 
 guard of 300 men, ten out of each Curiae ; and 
 these he called Celeres, for the reason tvhich 
 Plutarch has assigned. 
 
 § Plutarch had no critical skill in the Latin 
 language. 
 
 When his grandfather Numitor died in Alba, [ 
 though the crown undoubtedly belonged to hi^ 
 yet, to please the people, he left the administration 
 in their own hands ; and over the Sabines * * * § (in 
 Rome] he appointed yearly a particular magis- 
 trate : thus teaching the great men of Rome to 
 seek a free commonwealth without a king, and by : 
 turns to rule and to obey. For now the patricians 
 had no share in the government, but only sp. 
 honourable title and appearance, assembling in 
 the Senate-house more for form than business. 
 There, wuth silent attention, they heard the king 
 give his orders, and differed only from the rest oi 
 the people in this, that they went home with the 
 ^t knowledge of what was determined. This 
 treatment they digested as well as they could; 
 but when of his own authority he divided the i 
 conquered lands am ong the soldiers, and restored j 
 the Veientes their hostages without the consent | 
 or approbation of the senate, they considered it as 1 
 an intolerable insult. Hence arose strong sus- 
 picions against them, and Romulus soon after 
 unaccountably disappeared. This happened on 
 the 7th of July (as it is now called; then Qubitilis : x 
 and we have no certainty of anything about it ^ 
 but the time ; various ceremonies being still 1 
 performed on that day with reference to_ the j 
 event. Nor need we wonder at this uncerta in ty, ! 
 since, when Scipio Africanus was found dead in 
 his house after suppler, t there was no clear proof j 
 of the manner of his death : for some say, that : 
 being naturally infirm, he died suddenly ; some, | 
 tfiar he took poison ; and others, that his enenues | 
 broke into his house by night, and strangled him . • 
 Besides, ail were admitted to see Scipio’s dead ] 
 body, and every one, from the sight of it, had his 
 own suspicion or opinion of the cause. But as ' 
 Romulus disappeared on a sudden, and no part of j 
 his body or even his garments could be foimd, 
 some conjectured, that the senators, who were j 
 convened in the temple of Vulcan, fell upon him \ 
 and killed him ; after which each carried a part j 
 away under his gown. Others say, that his exit , 
 did not happen in the temple of Viilcan, nor in the j 
 presence of the senators only, but while he was ] 
 holding an assembly of the people wuthout the j 
 city, at a place called the Gcat’s-Marsh. The air 
 on that occasion w^as suddenly con\nlsed and 
 altered in a wonderful manner ; for the light of 
 the sun failed, J and they were involved in an 
 
 * Xylander and H. Stephanus are rationally ! 
 enough of opinion, that instead of Sabines we 
 should read Albans ; and so the Latin translator 
 renders it. , _ 1 
 
 t This was Scipio, the son of Paulus ^Lmilius, ; 
 adopted by Scipio Africanus. As he constantly i 
 opposed the designs of the Gracchi, it was sup- 
 posed that his wife Sempronia, who was sister to 
 those seditious men, took him off by poison. 
 According to V alerius Maximus, ■ no judicial 
 inquiry was made into the cause of his death , and 
 Victor tells us, the corpse was carried out, with 
 the face covered with a linen cloth, that the 
 blackness of it might not appear . 
 
 X Cicero mentions this remarkable darkness in 
 a fragment of his sixth book de Repub. And it 
 appears from the astronomical tables, that there 
 was a great eclipse of the sun in the first 3-ear of 
 the sixteenth O^mipiad, supposed to be the 3-ear 
 that Romulus died, on the twenty-sixth of May, 
 which, considering the little e.xactness there was 
 
2b 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 attended on every side with 
 dreadful thundenngs, and tempestuous winds 
 fhe multitude then dispersed and fled, but the 
 nobihty gathered into one body. When the 
 thS'S?^ '“Sht appeared again 
 
 nnt;^ ® the same place, and a very 
 
 anxious inquiry- was made for the king; but the 
 
 fnto thTm;^''* not suffer them to look close^^ 
 matter. They commanded them to 
 honour and worship Romulus, who was caught up 
 to heaven and who, as he h.ad been a Sou? 
 
 Upon'thk^h® a propitious deity, 
 
 upon this, the multitude went away with great 
 
 favomS’ him, in hopes of his 
 
 r and protection. Some, however searchinp- 
 the affair, gave 
 
 no small uneasiness ; they even accused thi-m ryf 
 th?v ^ ridiculous tale, when 
 
 hanL the king with thei own 
 
 we "^are^tot'^S ^^^^"der, a senator, 
 
 we are told, of great distinction, and famed fnr 
 ^nctity of manners, Julius Proculus by name * 
 
 H^fSthlulT'^'^'"*'’' R°“tilus,andlad been 
 nis laithful fiiend, went into the Forum and 
 declared upon the most solemn oaths before all 
 that as he was travelling on the road 
 Romulus met him, in a form more noble and 
 august than ever, and clad in bright and dazziino- 
 armour. Astonished at the sight? he said to him 
 For what misbehaviour of ours, O king or by 
 what accident, have you so untimely left us to 
 
 IS" ^ 
 
 Wiif after having founded a city which 
 
 vSd retumTbP”"'^^?* #l°rious^irthe 
 
 worm, return to heaven, from whence we cami- 
 Farewell then, and go, tdl the Ro4ns; thS by 
 fortitude, they 
 
 an^ T pitch of human greatness^ 
 
 and I, the god Quirinus, will ever be Drooido^ 
 tTe rJa?' This by the character annatKf 
 
 the relator, gained credit with the Romans wbn 
 were caught with the enthusiasm, as if they had 
 been actually inspired ; and, far from contJIdict- 
 mg what they had heard, bade adieu to all their 
 of^Ou^hfii?^ ^^d deifyincT 
 
 Sim O'!?- addressed their devotions to 
 
 him.^ This IS very like the Grecian faWes 
 cerning Aristeas the Proconnesian, and Cleomedes 
 the Astypalesian. For Aristeas, as they?dirs 
 expired in a fuller’s shop; and when hi^ Send ’ 
 
 fouTd"si^n it“nrb: 
 
 tound. Soon after, some persons coming- in from 
 met Aristeas toavdW^^ 
 war^ds Croton. As for Cleomedes, their account 
 
 strength'; W ^ gigantic s“d 
 
 Strength but behaving m a foolish and frantir 
 AfTcf/b^® was guilty of many acts of viole^^ce 
 ^ ^ school, where he struck the 
 
 pillar that supported the roof with his fist and 
 broke It asunder, so that the roof fell ^ and 
 
 hhn ehher^ffefd i” could not find 
 
 ana had from the priestess this answer— 
 
 T. . heroes ends in Cleomedes. 
 
 ”. "'i? ilT'uf be^gs^awrali^ 
 iamltim'^T® <^™nityTo“: bu^lf tl" 
 
 “h^f^TccoTfliuTtoSa^l 
 
 Sies^'andtub'’"” it 
 
 soul tbpf fc ^ ^'fhtning from a cloud ; but the 
 b IS carnal and immersed in sense t like a 
 
 aS''L%s'^“Th™‘'°'“'' "'ll* *®“ity is kinLd 
 a|ain.st nature, tornd'ih*bTi°e?Vgoo“S 
 1 1 n' to conclude, th?t vinuou? 
 
 iilF'i- 
 
 very well 
 
 A descendant of lulus or Ascanius. 
 
 translator, with m imj^?flfeblflfberty, hal tmned 
 
 means, the sense of the original ® 
 
 JJacier has translated it literally I’dme seche 
 
 the first principlSof all thinS The Rrf is 
 
 “inSorht'loteji’ 
 
 T of • T ^ct of sin 
 
 Pets in defilement to the inward parts. 
 
 Tmb T clotted by contagion, 
 
 Oft 
 
 And links itself by carnal sensuality ' 
 
 To a degenerate and degraded stat^ 
 
ROMULUS AND THESEUS COMPARED. 27 
 
 and ascend from genii to gods, not by the vote of 
 the people, but by the just and established order 
 of nature.* 
 
 The surname that Romulus had of Quirinus, 
 some think was given him, as (another) Mars ; 
 others, because they call the Roman citizens 
 Quirites ; others, again, because the ancients 
 gave the name of Quiris to the point of a spear, 
 or to the spear itself ; and that of Juno Quiritis 
 to the statues of Juno, when she was represented 
 leaning on a spear. Moreover, they styled a 
 certain spear, which was consecrated in the 
 palace. Mars ; and those that distinguished 
 themselves in war were rewarded with a spear. 
 Romulus, then, as a martial or warrior god, was 
 named Quirinus ; and the hill on which his temple 
 stands has the name of Quirinalis on his account. 
 The day on which he disappeared, is called the 
 flight of the people^ and No7ice Cap7'otince,hz- 
 ' cause then they go out of the city to offer sacrifice 
 at the Goat’s-Marsh. On this occasion they pro- 
 nounce aloud some of their proper names, Marcus 
 and Caius for instance, representing the flight 
 that then happened, and their calling upon one 
 another, amidst the terror and confusion. Others, 
 however, are of opinion, that this is not a repre- 
 sentation of flight, but of haste and eagerness, 
 deriving the ceremony from this source : When 
 the Gauls, after the taking of Rome, were driven 
 out by Camillus, and the city thus weakened did 
 not easily recover itself, many of the Latins, 
 under the conduct of Livius Posthumius, marched 
 against it. This army sitting down before Rome, 
 a herald was sent to signify, that the Latins 
 were desirous to renew their old alliance and 
 affinity, ' which was now declining, by new 
 inter-marriages. If, therefore, they would send 
 them a good number of their virgins and 
 widows, peace and friendship should be estab- 
 lished between them, as it was before with 
 the Sabines on the like occasion. When the 
 Romans heard this, though they were afraid of 
 war, yet they looked upon the giving up of 
 their women as not at all more eligible than 
 captivity. While they were in this suspense, a 
 servant maid, named Philotis, or, according to 
 others, Tutola, advised them to do neither, but 
 
 * Hesiod was the first who distinguished those 
 four natures, men, heroes, genii and gods. He 
 saw room, it seems, for perpetual progression and 
 improvement in a state of immortality. And 
 when the heathens tell us, that before the last 
 degree, that of divinity, is reached, those beings 
 are liable to be replunged into their primitive 
 state of darkness, one would imagine they had 
 heard something of the fallen angels. 
 
 by a stratagem (which she had thought oQ to 
 avoid both the war and the giving of hostages. 
 The stratagem was to dress Philotis herself, and 
 other handsome female slaves, in good attire, and 
 send them, instead of freeborn virgins, to the 
 enemy. Then, in the night, Philotis was to light 
 up a torch, as a signal for the Romans to attack 
 the enemy, and dispatch them in their sleep. 
 The Latins were satisfied, and the scheme put in 
 practice. For accordingly Philotis did set up a 
 torch on a wild fig-tree, screening it behind with 
 curtains and coverlets from the sight of the 
 enemy, whilst it was visible to the Romans. As 
 soon as they beheld it, they set out in great 
 haste, often calling upon each other at the gates 
 to be expeditious. Then they fell upon the 
 Latins, who expected nothing less, and cut them 
 in pieces. Hence this feast, in memory of the 
 victory. The day was called No7icb Capretmce, 
 on account of the ‘wild flg-treey in the Roman 
 tongue cap7iflcns. The women are entertained 
 in the fields, in booths made of the branches of 
 the fig-tree : and the servant maids in companies 
 run about and play ; afterwards they come to 
 blows, and throw stones at one another, in re- 
 membrance of their then assisting and standing 
 by the Romans in the battle. These particulars 
 are admitted but by few historians. ^ Indeed, 
 their calling upon each other’s names in the day 
 time, and their walking in procession to the 
 Goafs-Marshf like persons that were going to a 
 sacrifice, seems rather to be placed to the former 
 account : though possibly both these events might 
 happen, in distant periods, on the same day. 
 Romulus is said to have been fifty-four years of 
 age, and in the thirty-eighth of his reign, J when 
 he was taken from the world. 
 
 t Instead of oj? ctti OaKa-rrav, the reading in 
 Bryan’s text, which has no tolerable sense, an 
 anonymous copy gives us wairep a\a\aC,eiv. And 
 that to sacrifice, or rather to ofler up prayers at 
 a sacrifice, is in one sense of oXaXaXfiiv, appears 
 from the scholiast on Sophocles’s Trachinice, 
 where he explains a\a\a 70)49 by rat? e7rt to>i/ 
 Qvcruav This signification, we suppose, it 
 
 gained from the loud accent in which those 
 prayers were said or sung. 
 
 I Dionysius of Halicarnassus (and indeed 
 Plutarch himself, in the beginning of the life of 
 Numa) says, that Romulus left the world in the 
 thirty-seventh year after the foundation of Rome. 
 But perhaps those two historians may be recon- 
 ciled as to the age he died at. For Plutarch 
 says, he was then full fifty-four years of age, and 
 Dionysius that he was in his fifty-fifth year. 
 
 ROMULUS AND THESEUS COMPARED. 
 
 This is all I have met with that deserves to be 
 related concerning Romulus and Theseus. And 
 to come to the comparison, § first it appears, that 
 
 § Nothing can be more excellent than these 
 parallels of Plutarch. He weighs the virtues 
 and vices of men in so just a balance, and puts so 
 true an estimate on their good and bad qualities, 
 that the reader cannot attend to them without 
 infinite advantage. 
 
 Theseus was inclined to great enterprises, by his 
 own proper choice, and compelled by no necessit}', 
 since he might have reigned in peace at Troezene, 
 over a kingdom by no means contemptible, which 
 would have fallen to him by succession : Where- 
 as Romulus, in order to avoid present slavery and 
 impending punishment, became valiant (as Plato 
 expresses it) through fear, and was driven by the 
 terror of extreme sufferings to arduous attempts. 
 Besides, the greatest action of Romulus was the 
 
2S PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 killing of one tyrant in Alba : But the first exploits 
 of Theseus, performed occasionally, and by way 
 of prelude only, were those of destroying Sciron, 
 Sinnis, Procrustes, and the Chib-bearer ; by 
 whose punishment and death he delivered Greece 
 from several cruel tyrants, before they, for whose 
 • preservation he was labouring, knew him. More- 
 over, he might have gone safely to Athens by sea, 
 without any danger from robbers ; but Romulus 
 could have no security while Amulius lived. This 
 ! difference is evident. Theseus, when unmolested 
 1 himself, went forth to rescue others from their 
 I oppressors. On the other hand, Romulus and 
 I his brother, while they were uninjured by the 
 i tyrant themselves, quietly suffered him to exercise 
 j his cruelties. And, if it was a great thing for 
 Romulus to be wounded in the battle with the 
 Sabines, to kili Acron, and to conquer many other 
 enemies, we may set against these distinctions the 
 battle with the Centaurs, and the war with the 
 Amazons, 
 
 But as to Theseus’s enterprise with respect to 
 the Cretan tribute, when he voluntarily offered to 
 go among the young men and virgins, whether he 
 was to expect to be food for some wild beast, or 
 to be sacrificed at Androgeus’s tomb, or, which is 
 the lightest of all the evils said to be prepared for 
 him, to submit to a vile and dishonourable slavery, 
 it is not easy to express his courage and niagnani- 
 mity, his regard for justice and the public good, 
 and his love of glory and of virtue. On this occa- 
 sion, it appears to me, that the philosophers have 
 not ill defined love to be a remedy provided by 
 the gods for the safety and preservation of youth. * 
 For Ariadne’s love seems to have been the work 
 of some god, who designed by that means to pre- 
 serve this great man. Nor should we blame her 
 for her passion, but rather wonder that all were 
 not alike affected towards him. And if she alone 
 was sensible of that tenderness, I may justly pro- 
 nounce her worthy the love of a god,f as she 
 showed so great a regard for virtue and excellence 
 in her attachment to so worthy a man. 
 
 Both Theseus and Romulus were bom with 
 political talents ; yet neither of them preserved 
 the proper character of a king, but deviated from 
 the due medium, the one erring on the side of 
 democracy, the other on that of absolute power, 
 according to their different tempers. For a prince’s 
 first concern is to preserv^e the government itself : 
 and this is effected, no less by avoiding whatever 
 is improper, than by cultivating what is suitable 
 to his dignity. He who gives up, or extends his 
 authority, continues not a prince or a king, but 
 degenerates into a republican or a tyrant, and 
 thus incurs either the hatred or contempt of his 
 subjects- The former seems to be the error of a 
 mild and humane disposition, the latter of self- 
 love and severity. 
 
 If, then, the calamities of mankind are not to 
 be entirely attributed to fortune, but we are to 
 
 * Vide Plat. Conviv. 
 
 t Plutarch here enters into the notion of So- 
 crates, who teaches, that it is the love of virtue 
 and real excellence which alone can unite us to 
 the Supreme Being. But though this maxim is 
 good, it is not applicable to Ariadne. For where 
 is the virtue of that prince.ss who fell in love with 
 a stranger at first sight, and hastened to the com- 
 pletion of her wishes through the ruin of her kin- 
 dred and her country ? 
 
 seek the cause in their different manners and 
 passions, here we shall find, that unreasonable 
 anger, with quick and unadvised resentment, is 
 to be imputed both to Romulus, in the case of his 
 brother, and to Theseus in that of his son. But, 
 if we consider whence their anger took its rise, 
 the latter seems the more excusable, from the 
 greater cause he had for resentment, as yielding 
 to the heavier blow. For, as the dispute began 
 when Romulus was in cool consultation for the 
 common good,* one would think he could not 
 presently have given way to such a passion : 
 Whereas Theseus was urged against his son by 
 emotions which few men have been able to with- 
 stand, proceeding from love, jealousy, and the 
 false suggestions of his wife. What is more, the 
 anger of Romulus discharged itself in an action 
 of most unfortunate consequence ; but that of 
 Theseus proceeded no further than words, re- 
 proaches, and imprecations, the usual revenge of 
 old men. The rest of the young man’s misery 
 seems to have been owing to fortune. Thus far, 
 Theseus seems to deserve the preference. 
 
 But Romulus has, in the first place, this great 
 advantage, that he rose to distinction from very 
 small beginnings. For the two brothers were 
 reputed slaves and sons of herdsmen ; and yet 
 before they attained to liberty themselves, they 
 bestowed it on almost all the Latins ; gaining at 
 once the most glorious titles, as destroyers of their 
 enemies, deliverers of their kindred, kings of 
 nations, and founders of cities, not transplanters, 
 as Theseus was, who filled indeed one city with 
 people, but it was by ruining many others, which 
 bore the names of ancient kings and heroes. And 
 Romulus afterwards effected the same, when he 
 compelled his enemies to demolish their habi- 
 tations, and incorporate with their conquerors. 
 He had not, however, a city ready built, to en- 
 large, or to transplant inhabitants to from other 
 towns, but he created one, gaining to himself 
 lands, a country, a kingdom, children, wives, 
 alliances ; and this without destroying or ruining 
 any one. On the contrary, he w^ a great bene- 
 factor to persons who, having neither house nor 
 habitation, willingly became his citizens and 
 people. He did not, indeed, like Theseus, destroy 
 robbers and ruffians, but he subdued nations, took 
 cities, and triumphed over kings and generals. 
 
 As for the fate of Remus, it is doubtful by what 
 hand he fell ; most writers ascribing it to others, 
 and not to Romulus. But, in the face of all the 
 world, he saved his mother from destruction, and 
 placed his grandfather, who lived in mean and 
 dishonourable subjection, upon the throne of 
 iEneas: Moreover, he voluntarily did him many 
 kind offices, but never injured him, not even 
 inadvertently. On the other hand, I think The- 
 seus, in forgetting or neglecting the command 
 about the sail, can scarcely, by any excu.ses, or 
 before the mildest judges, avoid the imputation 
 of parricide. Sensible how difficult the defence 
 of this affair would be to those who should attempt 
 it, a certain Athenian writer feigns, that when the 
 ship approached, i^^geus ran in great haste to the 
 citadel for the better view of it, and missing his 
 
 * Plutarch does not seem to have had a just 
 idea of the contest between Romulus and Remus. 
 The two brothers were not so solicitous about the 
 situation of their new city, as which of them 
 should have the command in it, when it was built. 
 
LYCURGUS, 29 
 
 step, fell down ; as if he were destitute of servants, 
 or went, in whatever hurry, unattended to the 
 
 Moreover, Theseus’s rapes and offences, with 
 respect to women, admit of no plausible excuse ; 
 because, in the first place, they were C9mmitted 
 often ; for he carried off Ariadne, Antiope, and 
 Anaxo the Troezenian ; after the rest, Helen ; 
 though she was a girl not yet come to maturity, 
 and he so far advanced in years, that it was time 
 for him to think no more even of lawful marriage. 
 The next aggravation is the cause ; for the 
 daughters of the Troezenians, the Lacedaemonians, 
 and the Amazons, were not more fit to bring 
 children, than those of the Athenians sprung 
 from Erectheus ond Cecrops. These things, there- 
 fore, are liable to the suspicion of a wanton and 
 licentious appetite. On the other hand, Romulus, 
 having carried off at once almost 800 women, did 
 not take them all, but only Hersilia, as it is said, 
 for himself^, and distributed the rest among the 
 most respectable citizens. And afterwards, by 
 the honourable and affectionate treatment he 
 procured them, he turned that injury and violence 
 into a glorious exploit, performed with a political 
 view to the good of society. Thus he united and 
 cemented the two nations together, and opened 
 a source of future kindness, and of additional 
 power. Time bears witness to the conjugal 
 modesty, tenderness and fidelity, which he estab- 
 lished ; for during 230 years, no man attempted 
 to leave his wife, nor any woman her husband.* 
 
 * These numbers are wrong in Plutarch ; for 
 Dionysius of Halicarnassus marks the time with 
 great exactness, acquainting us, that it was 520 
 years after the building of Rome, in the consulate 
 of M. Pomponius hlatho and C. Papirius hlasso. 
 
 And, as the very curious among the Greeks can 
 tell you who was the first person that killed his 
 father and mother, so all the Romans know that 
 Spurius Carvilius was the first that divorced his 
 wife, alleging her barrenness.! The immediate 
 effects, as well as length of time, attest what I 
 have said . For the two kings shared the kingdom, 
 and the two nations came under the s^ame govern- 
 ment, by means of these alliances. But the 
 marriages of Theseus procured the Athenians no 
 friendship with any other state ; on the contrary’-, 
 enmity, wars, the destruction of their citizens, and 
 at last the loss of Aphidnae ; which, only through 
 the compassion of the enemy, whom the inhabi- 
 tants supplicated and honoured like gods, escaped 
 the fate that befell Troy by means of Paris. How- 
 ever, the mother of Tceseus, deserted and given 
 up by her son, was not only in danger of, but 
 really did suffer, the misfortunes of Hecuba, if 
 her captivity be not a fiction, as a great deal 
 besides may very well be. As to the stories we 
 have concerning both, of a supernatural kind, the 
 difference is great. For Romulus was preserved 
 by the signal favour of Heaven : but as the oracle, 
 which commanded iFgeus not to approach any 
 woman in a foreign country, was not observed, 
 the birth of Theseus appears to have been un- 
 acceptable to the gods. 
 
 t Carvilius made oath before the censors, that 
 he had the best regard for his wife, and that it 
 was solely in compliance with the pered engage- 
 ment of marriage, the design of which was to have 
 children, that he divorced her. But this did not 
 hinder his character from being ever after odious 
 to the people, who thought he had set a very 
 pernicious example. 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 Of Lycurgus, the lawgiver, we have nothing to 
 relate that is certain and uncontroverted. For 
 there are different accounts of his birth, his 
 travels, his death, and especially of the laws and 
 form of government which he established. But 
 least of all are the times agreed upon in which 
 this great man lived. For some say he flourished 
 at the same time with Tphitus,§ and joined with 
 
 t The life of Lycurgus was the first which 
 Plutarch published, as he himself observes in the 
 life of Theseus. He seems to have had a strong 
 attachment to the Spartans and their customs, as 
 Xenophon likewise had. For, besides this life, 
 and those of several other Spartan chiefs, we 
 have a treatise of his on the laws and customs of 
 the Lacedaemonians, and another of Laconic 
 Apophthegms. He makes Lycurgus in all things 
 a perfect hero, and alleges his behaviour as a 
 proof, that the wise man, so often described by 
 the philosophers, was not a mere ideal character 
 unattainable by human nature. It is certain, 
 however, that the encomiums bestowed upon him 
 and his laws by the Delphic oracle, were merely 
 a contrivance between the Pythoness and him- 
 self ; and some of his laws, for instance that 
 concerning the women, were exceptionable. 
 
 § Iphitis, king of Elis, is said to have instituted, 
 or rather restored the Olympic games, 108 years 
 
 him in settling the cessation of arms during the 
 Olympic games. Among these is Aristotle the 
 philosopher, who alleges for proof Olympic 
 quoit, on which was preserved the inscription of 
 Lymurgus’s name. But others who, with Eratos- 
 thenes and Apollodorus, compute the time by the 
 succession of the Spartan kings, || place him much 
 
 before what is commonly reckoned the first Olym- 
 piad, which commenced in the year before Christ 
 776, or, as some will have it, 774, and bore the 
 name of Coroebus, as the following Olympiads 
 did those of other victors. 
 
 Iphitus began with offering a sacrifice to Her- 
 cules, whom the Eleans believed to have been 
 upon some account exasperated against them. 
 He next ordered the Olympic games, the discon- 
 tinuance of which was said to have caused a pes- 
 tilence, to be proclaimed all over Greece, with a 
 promise of free admission to all comers, and fixed 
 the time for the celebration of them. He likewise 
 took upon himself to be sole president and judge 
 of those games, a privilege which the Piseans had 
 often disputed with his predecessors, and which 
 continued to his descendants as long as the regal 
 dignity subsisted. After this, the people appointed 
 two presidents, which in time increased to ten, 
 and at length to twelve. 
 
 11 Strabo says, that Lycurgus the lawgiver cer- 
 
30 PLU'l'ARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 earlier than the first Olympiad. Timaeus, how- 
 ever, supposes, that, as there were two Lycurguses 
 in Sparta at different times, the actions of both 
 are ascribed to one, on account of his particular 
 renown ; and that the more ancient of them lived 
 not long after Homer : Nay, some say he^ had 
 seen him. Xenophon, too, confirms the opinion 
 of his antiquity, when he makes him contemporary 
 with the Heraclidse. It is true, the latest of the 
 Lacedaemonian kings were of the lineage of the 
 Heraclidae ; but Xenophon there seems to speak 
 of the first and more immediate descendants of 
 Hercules.* As the history of those times is thus 
 involved, in relating the circumstances of Lycur- 
 gus’s life, we shall endeavour to select such as are 
 least controverted, and follow autliors of the 
 greatest credit. 
 
 Simonides the poet tells us, that Pr^^tanis, not 
 Eunomus, was father to Lycurgus. But most 
 writers give us the genealogy of Lycurgus and 
 Eunomus in a different manner ; for, according to 
 them. Sous was the son of Patrocles, and grand- 
 son of Aristodemus ; Eurytion the son of Soils, 
 Prytanis of Eurytion, and Eunomus of Prytanis ; 
 to this Eunomus was born Polydectes, by a former 
 wife, and by a second, named Dianassa, Lycurgus. 
 Eutychidas, however, says Lycurgus was the 
 sixth from Patrocles, and the eleventh from 
 Hercules. The most distinguished of his an- 
 cestors was Soils, under whom the Lacedaemonians 
 made the H elates their slaves,! and gained an 
 extensive tract of land from the Arcadians. Of 
 this Soils it is related, that, being besieged by the 
 Clitorians in a difficult post where there was no 
 water, he agreed to give up all his conquests, 
 provided that himself and all his army should 
 drink of the neighbouring spring. When these 
 conditions were sworn to, he assembled his forces, 
 and offered his kingdom to the man that would 
 forbear drinking ; not one of them, however, 
 would deny himself, but they all drank. Then 
 Sous went down to the spring himself, and having 
 only sprinkled his face in sight of the enemy, 
 he marched off, and still held the country, because 
 all had not drank. Yet, though he was highly 
 honoured for this, the family had not their name 
 from him, but from his son, were called Eury- 
 tioni^ ; X and this, because Eurytion seems to 
 
 be the first who relaxed the strictness of kingly 
 government, inclining to the interest of the people, 
 and ingratiating himself with them. Upon this 
 relaxation, their encroachments increased, and 
 the succeeding kings, either becoming odious, 
 treating them with greater rigour, or else giving 
 way through weakness or in hopes of favour, for 
 a long time anarchy and confusion prevailed in 
 Sparta ; by which one of its kings, the father of 
 Lycurgus, lost his life. For while he was endea- 
 vouring to part some persons who were concerned 
 in a fra3% he received a wound by a kitchen knife, 
 of which he died, leaving the kingdom to his 
 eldest son Polydectes. 
 
 But he, too, dying soon after, the general voice 
 gave it for Lycurgus to ascend the throne : and 
 he actually did so, till it appeared that his brother’s 
 widow was pregnant. As soon as he perceived 
 this, he declared that the kingdom belonged to 
 her issue, provided it were male, and he kept the 
 administration in his hands only as his guardian. 
 This he did with the title of Prodicos, which the 
 Lacedaemonians give to the guardians of infant 
 kings. Soon after, the queen made him a private 
 overture, that she would destroy her child, upon 
 condition that he would marry her when king of 
 Sparta. Though he detested her wickedness, 
 he said nothing against the proposal, but pre- 
 tending to approve it, charged her not to take any 
 drugs to procure an abortion, lest she should en- 
 danger her own health or life ; for he would take 
 care that the child, as soon as born, should be 
 destroyed. Thus he artfully drew on the woman 
 to her full time, and, when he heard she was in 
 labour, he sent persons to attend and watch her 
 delivery, with orders, if it were a girl, to give it 
 to the women, but if a boy, to bring it to him, in 
 whatever business he might be engaged. It 
 happened that he was at supper with the magis- 
 trates when she was delivered of a boy, and his 
 servants, who were present, carried the child to 
 him. When he received it, he is reported to have 
 said to the company, “ Spartans, see here your 
 new-born king.” He then laid him down upon 
 the chair of state, and named him Charilaus, be- 
 cause of the joy and admiration of his magna- 
 nimity and justice testified by all present. Thus 
 the reign of Lycurgus lasted only eight months. 
 But the citizens had a great veneration' for him 
 on other accounts, and there were more that paid 
 him their attentions, and were ready to execute 
 
 tainly lived in the fifth generation after Althe- 
 menes, who led a colony into Crete. This 
 Altliemenes was the son of Cissus, who founded 
 Argos, at the same time that Patrocles, Lycur- 
 gus’s ancestor in the fifth degree, laid the founda- 
 tions of Sparta. So that Lycurgus flourished 
 some short time after Solomon, about 900 years 
 before the Christian JEra.. 
 
 * This passage is in Xenophon’s excellent 
 treatise concerning the republic of Sparta, from 
 which Plutarch has taken the best part of this 
 life. 
 
 t The Helotes, or Ilotes, were inhabitants of 
 Helos, a maritime town of Laconia. The La- 
 cedmmonians having conquered and made slaves 
 of them, called not only them, but all the other 
 slaves they happened to have, by the name of 
 Helotes. It is certain, however, that the descend- 
 ants of the original Helotes, though they were 
 extremely ill-treated, and some of them assassin- 
 ated, subsisted many ages in Laconia. 
 
 J It may be proper here to give the reader a 
 short view of the regal government of Lacedaemon, 
 
 under the Herculean line. The Heraclidae, having 
 driven out Tisamenes, the son of Orestes, Eurys- 
 thenes and Procles, the sons of Ai'istodemus, 
 reigned in that kingdom. Under them the 
 government took a new form, and instead of one 
 sovereign, became subject to two. These two 
 brothers did not divide the kingdom between 
 them, neither did they agree to reign alternately, 
 but they resolved to govern jointly, and with 
 equal power and authority. ^ What is surprising 
 is, that, notwithstanding this mutual jealous3% 
 this diarchy did not end with these two brothers, 
 but continued under a succession of thirty princes 
 of the line of Eurysthenes, and twenty-seven of 
 that of Procles. Eurysthenes was succeeded by 
 his son Agis, from whom all the descendants of 
 that line were surnamed Agidce, as the other line 
 took the name of E7irytionidce, from Eurytion, 
 the grandson of Procles, Patrocles, or Protocles. 
 Pausan. Strab. et al. 
 
LYCURGUS, 31 
 
 his commands, out of reg^d to his virtues, 
 than those that obeyed him as a guardian 
 to the king, and director of the adminis- 
 tration. There were not, however, wanting those 
 that envied him, and opposed his advancement, 
 as too high for so young a man ; particularly the 
 relations and friends of the queen-mother, who 
 seemed to have been treated with contempt. Her 
 brother Leonidas, one day boldly attacked him 
 with virulent language, and scrupled not to tell 
 him, that he was well assured he would soon be 
 king ; thus preparing suspicions, and matter of 
 accusation against Lycurgus, in case any accident 
 should befall the king. Insinuations of the same 
 kind were likewise spread by the queen-mother. 
 Moved with this ill treatment, and fearing some 
 dark design, he determined to get clear of all 
 suspicion, by travelling into other countries, till 
 his nephew should be ^own up, and have a son 
 to succeed him in the kingdom. 
 
 He set sail, therefore, and landed in Crete. 
 There having observed the forms of government, 
 and conversed with the most illustrious person- 
 ages, he was struck with admiration of some of 
 their laws,* and resolved at his return to make 
 use of them in Sparta. Some others he rejected. 
 Among the friends he gained in Crete, was 
 Thales,! with whom he had interest enough to 
 persuade him to go and settle at Sparta. Thales 
 was famed for his wisdom and political abilities : 
 he was withal a l3'-ric poet, who under colour of 
 ■| exercising his art, performed as great things as 
 ; the most excellent lawgivers. For his odes were 
 so man}’’ persuasives to obedience and unanimit}’’, 
 
 ■j ' means of melod}’^ and numbers they had 
 ■ great grace and power, they softened in. sibly 
 the manners of the audience, drew them off from 
 the animosities which then prevailed, and united 
 I them in zeal for excellence and virtue. So that, 
 
 I in some measure, he prepared the way for Lycur- 
 I gus towards the instruction of the Spartans. 
 
 , From Crete Lycurgus passed to Asia, desirous, 
 
 1 as is said, to compare the Ionian J expense and 
 luxury with the Cretan frugality and hard diet, 
 so as to judge what effect each had on their 
 
 * The most ancient writers, as Ephorus, Callis- 
 thenes, Aristotle, and Plato, are of opinion, that 
 Lycurgus adopted many things^ in the Cretan 
 polity. But Polybius will have it that they are 
 all mistaken. “At Sparta,” says he, in his sixth 
 book, “the lands are equally divided among all 
 the citizens ; wealth is banished ; the crown is 
 hereditary ; whereas in Crete the contrary ob- 
 tains.” But this does not prove that Lycurgus 
 might not take some gbod laws and usages from 
 Crete, and leave what he thought defective. 
 There is, indeed, so great a conformity between 
 the laws of L^xurgus and those of Minos, that 
 we must believe, with Strabo, that these were 
 the foundation of the other. 
 
 t This Thales, who was a poet and musician, 
 must be distinguished from Thales the Milesian, 
 who was one of the seven wise men of Greece. 
 The poet lived 250 years before the philosopher. 
 
 t The lonians sent a colony from Attica into 
 Asia Minor, about 1050 years before the Christian 
 iEra, and 150 before Lycurgus. And though 
 they might not be greatly degenerated in so short 
 a time, yet our lawgiver could judge of the effect 
 which the climate and Asiatic plenty had upon 
 them. 
 
 several manners and governments ; just as 
 physicians cornpate bodies that are weak and 
 sickly with the' healthy and robust. There also, 
 probably, he met with Homer’s poems, which 
 were preserved by the posterity of Cleophylus. 
 Observing that, many moral sentences, and much 
 political knowledge were intermixed with his 
 stories, which had an irresistible charm, he col- 
 lected them into one body, and transcribed them 
 with pleasure, in order to take them home with 
 him. For his glorious poetry was not yet fully 
 known in Greece ; only some particular pieces 
 were in a few hands, as they happened to be dis- 
 persed. Lycurgus was the first that made them 
 generally known. The Egyptians likewise sup- 
 pose that he visited them; and as of all their 
 institutions he was most pleased with their dis- 
 tinguishing the military men from the rest of the 
 people,* he took the same method at Sparta, and, 
 by separating from these the mechanics and arti- 
 ficers, he rendered the constitution more noble and 
 more of a piece. This assertion of the Egyptians 
 is confirmed by some of the Greek writers. But 
 we know of no one, except Aristocrates, son of 
 Hipparchus, and a Spartan, who has affirmed 
 that he went to Libya and Spain, and in his 
 Indian excursions conversed with the Gymno- 
 sophists A 
 
 The Lacedaemonians found the want of Lycur- 
 gus when absent, and sent man}’’ embassies to 
 entreat him to return. For they perceived that 
 their kings had barely the title and outward 
 appendages of royalty, but in nothing else dif- 
 fered from the multitude ; whereas Lycurgus had i 
 abilities from nature guide the measures of | 
 governr , and powers of persuasion, that drew 1 
 the hearts of men to hip. The kings, however, 
 were consulted about his return, and they hoped j 
 that in his presence they should experience less 
 insolence amongst the people. Returning then 
 to a city thus disposed, he immediately applied 
 himself to alter the whole frame of the constitu- 
 tion ; sensible that a partial change, and the 
 introducing of some new laws, would be of no 
 sort of advantage ; but, as in the case of a body 
 diseased and full of bad humours, whose tem- 
 perament is to be corrected and new formed by 
 medicines, it was necessary to begin a new regi- 
 
 * The ancient Egyptians kept not only the 
 priests and military men, who consisted chiefly 
 of the nobility, distinct from the rest of the 
 people ; but the other employments, viz. those 
 of herdsmen, shepherds, merchants, interpreters, 
 and seamen, descended in particular tribes from 
 father to son. 
 
 t Indian priests and philosophers who went 
 almost naked, and lived in woods. The Brach- 
 mans were one of their sects. They had a great 
 aversion to idleness. Apuleius tells us, every 
 pupil of theirs was obliged to give account every 
 day of some good he had done, either by medita- 
 tion or action, before he was admitted to sit down 
 to dinner. So thoroughly were they persuaded 
 of the transmigration of the soul, and a happy 
 one for themselves, that they used to commit 
 themselves to the flames, when they had lived 
 to satiety, or were apprehensive of any misfortune. 
 But we are afraid it was vanity that induced one 
 of them to bum himself before Alexander the 
 Great, and another to do the same before Au- 
 gustus Caesar. 
 
I 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 32 
 
 men. With these sentiments he went to Delphi, 
 and when he had offered sacrifice and consulted 
 the god,* he returned with that celebrated oracle, 
 in which the priestess called him, “Beloved of 
 the gods, and rather a god than a man.” As to 
 his request that he might enact good laws, she 
 told him, Apollo had heard his request, and 
 promised that the constitution be should establish 
 would be the most excellent in the world. Thus 
 encouraged, he applied to the nobility, and de- 
 sired them to put their hands to the work ; 
 addressing himself privately at first to his friends, 
 and afterwards, by degrees, trying the disposition 
 of others, and preparing them to concur in the 
 business. When matters were ripe, he ordered 
 thirty of the principal citizens to appear armed 
 in the market place by break of day, to strike 
 terror into such as might desire to oppose him. 
 Hermippus has given us the names of twenty of 
 the most eminent of them ; but he that had the 
 greatest share in the whole enterprise, and gave 
 Lycurgus the best assistance in the establishing 
 of his laws, was called Arithmiades. Upon the 
 first alarm. King Charilaus, apprehending it to 
 be a design against his person, took refuge in the 
 Chalczoicos.f But he was soon satisfied, and 
 accepted of their oath. Nay, so far from being 
 obstinate, he joined in the undertaking. Indeed, 
 he was so remarkable for the gentleness of his 
 disposition, that Archelaus, his partner in the 
 throne, is reported to have said to some that were 
 praising the young king, “Yes, Charilaus is a 
 good man to be sure, who cannot find in his heart 
 to punish the bad.” Among the many new insti- 
 tutions of Lycurgus, the first and most important 
 was that of a seziate ; vhich sharing, as Plato 
 says, I in the power of the kings, too imperious 
 
 * As Minos had persuaded the Cretans, that 
 his laws were delivered to him from Jupiter, so 
 Lycurgus, his imitator, was willing to make the 
 Spartans believe that he did everything by the 
 direction of Apollo. Other legislators have found 
 it very convenient to propagate an opinion, that 
 their institutions were from the gods. For that 
 self-love in human nature, which would but ill 
 have borne with the superiority of genius that 
 must have been acknowledged in an unassisted 
 lawgiver, found an ease and satisfaction in admit- 
 ting his new regulations, when they were said to 
 come from heaven. 
 
 t That is, the brazeti temple. It was standing 
 in the time of Pausanias, who lived in the reign 
 of Marcus Antoninus. 
 
 I The passage to which Plutarch refers, is in 
 Plato’s third book of laws, where he is examining 
 into the causes of the downfall of states. An 
 Athenian is introduced thus speaking to a Lace- 
 daemonian. “ Some god, I believe, in his care for 
 your state, and in his foresight of what would 
 happen, has given you two kings of the same 
 family, in order that reigning jointly, they might 
 govern with the more moderation, and Sparta 
 experience the greater _ tranquillity. After this, 
 when the regal authority was grown again, too 
 absolute and imperious, a divine spirit residing 
 in a human nature (i.e. Lycurgus) reduced it 
 within the bounds of equity and moderation, by 
 the wise provision of a senate, whose authority 
 was to be equal to that of the kings.” Aristotle 
 finds fault with this circumstance in the institution 
 of the senate, that the senators were to continue 
 
 and unrestrained before, and having equal au- 
 thority with them, was the means of keeping 
 them within the bounds of moderation, and highly 
 contributed to the preservation of the state. For 
 before^ it had been veering and unsettled, some- 
 times inclining to arbitrary power, and sometimes 
 towards a pure democracy ; but this establishment 
 of a senate, an intermediate body, like ballast, 
 kept in it a just equilibrium, and put it in a safe 
 posture : the twenty-eight senators adhering to 
 the kings, whenever they saw the people too en- 
 croaching, and, on the other hand, supporting 
 the people, when the kings attempted to make 
 themselves absolute. This, according to Aristotle, 
 was the number of senators fixed upon, because 
 two of the thirty associates of Lycurgus deserted 
 the business through fear. But Sphserus tells us 
 there were only twenty-eight at first entrusted 
 with the design. Something, perhaps, there is 
 in its being a perfect number, formed of seven 
 multiplied by four, and withal the first number, 
 after six, that is equal to all its parts. But I 
 rather think, just so many senators were created, 
 that together with the two kings, the whole body 
 might consist of thirty members. 
 
 He had this institution so much at heart, that 
 he obtained from Delphi an oracle in its behalf, 
 called rhetra, or the decree. This was couched 
 in very ancient and uncommon terms, which 
 interpreted, ran thus : “ When you have built a 
 temple to the Syllanian Jupiter, and the Syllanian 
 Minerva,* divided the people into_ tribes and 
 classes, and established a senate of thirty persons, 
 including the two kings, you shall occasionally 
 summon the people to an assembly between Babyce 
 and Cnacion, and they shall have the determining 
 voice.” Babyce and Cnacion are now called 
 Oenus. But Aristotle thinks, by Cnacion is 
 meant the river, and by Babyce the bridge. 
 Between these they held their assemblies, having 
 neither halls, nor any kind of building for that 
 purpose. These things he thought of no ad- 
 vantage to their councils, but rather a dis-service ; 
 as they distracted the attention, and turned it 
 upon trifles, on observing the statues and pictures, 
 the splendid roofs, and every other theatrical 
 ornament. The people thus assembled had no 
 right to propose any subject of debate, and were 
 only authorized to ratify or reject what might be 
 proposed to them by the senate and the kings. 
 But because, in process of time, the people, by 
 
 for life ; for as the mind grows old with the body, 
 he thought it unreasonable to put the fortunes of 
 the citizens into the power of men who through 
 age might become incapable of judging. He 
 likewise thought it very unreasonable that they 
 were not made accountable for their actions. But 
 for the latter inconvenience sufficient provision 
 seems to have been made afterwards, by the 
 institution of the Ephori, who had it chiefly in 
 charge to defend the rights of the people ; and 
 therefore Plato adds, “.A third blessing to Sparta 
 was the prince, who finding the power of the 
 senate and the kings too arbitrary and uncon- 
 trolled, contrived the authority of the Ephori as 
 a restraint upon it,” etc. 
 
 As no account can be given of the meaning 
 of the word Syllanian, it is supposed it should be 
 either read Sellasian, from Sellasia, a town of 
 Loconia upon the Eurotas ; or else H ellatiiazi, as 
 much as to say, the Grecian Jupiter, etc. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 33 
 
 additions or retrenchments, changed the tenns, 
 and perverted the sense of the decrees, the kings 
 Polydorus and Thcopompus inserted in the rhetra 
 this clause. ** If the people attempt tp comipt 
 any law, the senate and cniefs shall retire : ” that 
 is, they shall dissolve the assembly, and annul 
 the alterations. And they found means to per- 
 suade the Spartans that this too was ordered 
 by Apollo; as we learn from these verses of 
 Tyrtccus : 
 
 Ye sons of Sparta, who at Phcebus' shrine 
 Your humble vows prefer, attentive hear 
 'l*he god's decision. O’er your beauteous lands 
 Two guardian kings, a senate, and the voice 
 Of the concurring people, lasting lavrs 
 Shall with joint power establish. 
 
 Though the government was thus tempered by 
 Lycurgus, yet soon after it degenerated into an 
 oligarchy, whose power was exercised with such 
 wantonness and violence, that it wanted indeed a 
 bridle, as Plato expresses it. 'This curb they 
 found in the authority of the Ephori* about 
 130 years after Lycurgus. Elatus was the first 
 invested with this dignity, in the reign of Theo- 
 pompus ; who, when his wife upbraided him, that 
 he would leave the regal power to his children 
 less than he received it, replied, Nay, but 
 greater, because more lasting.” And, in fact, the 
 prerogative, so stripped of all extravagant pre- 
 
 * Herodotus, (I. i. c. 65) and Xenophon (de 
 Repub. Lac.) tell us, the Ephori'^oxo. appointed by 
 Lycurgus himself. But the account which Plu- 
 tarch gives us from Aristotle (Polit. 1 . v.) and 
 others, of their being instituted long after, ^ems 
 more agreeable to reason. For it is not likely, 
 that Lycurgus, who in all things endeavoured to 
 support the aristocracy, and left the people only 
 the right of assenting or dissenting to what was 
 proposed to them, would appoint a kind oi 
 tribunes of the people, to be masters as it were 
 both of the kings and the senate. Some, indeed, 
 suppose the Ephori to have been at first the 
 kings' friends, to whom they delegated their 
 authority, when they were obliged to be in the 
 field. But it is very clear that they were elected 
 by the people out of their ovm body, and some- 
 times out of the very dregs of it ; for the boldest 
 citizen, whoever he was, was most likely to be 
 chosen to this ofiice, which was intended as a 
 check on the senate and the kings. Th^y were 
 five in number, like the Quinqueviri in the 
 republic of Carthage. They were ^nually 
 elected, and, in order to effect anything, the 
 unanimous voice of the college was requisite. 
 Their authority, though well designed at first, 
 came at length to be in a manner boundless. 
 'They presided in popular assemblies, collected 
 their suffrages, declared zt/ar, made peace, treated 
 with foreign princes, determined the number of 
 forces to be raised, appointed the funds to main- 
 tain them, and distributed rewards and punish- 
 ments in the name of the state. They likewise 
 held a court of justice, inquired into the conduct 
 of all magistrates, inspected into the behaviour 
 and education of youth, had a particular jurisdic- 
 tion over the Helotes, and in short, by degrees, 
 drew the whole administration into their hsmds 
 They even went so far as to put king Agis to 
 death under a form of justice, and were themselves 
 at last killed by Qeomenes 
 
 tensions, no longer occasioned either envy or » 
 danger to its possessors. By these means the^' ‘ 
 escaped the miseries which befell the Messenian ) 
 and Argive kings, who would not in the least ^ 
 relax the severity of their power in favour of the j 
 people. Indeed, from nothing more does the 
 wisdom and foresight of Lycurgus appear, than | 
 rom the disorderly governments, and the bad j 
 understanding that subsisted between the kings , 
 and people of Messena and Argos, neighbouring ‘ 
 states, and related in blood to Sparta- For, as 
 at first they were in all respects equal to her, and | 
 possessed of a better country, and yet preserved j 
 no lasting happine.ss, but, through the insolence • 
 of the kings and disobedience of the people, were - 
 harassed with perpetual troubles, they made it ■ 
 very evident, that it was really a felunty more 
 than human, a blessing from heaven to the ; 
 .Spartans, to have a legislator who knevr so well 
 ^jw to frame and temper their government.* But 
 this was an event of a later date. ; 
 
 A second and bolder political enterprise of ! 
 Lycurgus, was a new division of the lan^. For J 
 he found a prodigious inequality, the city over- I 
 charged with many indigent persons, who had no l 
 l^d, and the we^th centred in the hands of a 
 few. Determined, therefore, to root out the evils 
 of insolence, envy, avarice, and luxury, and those 
 distempers of a state still more inveterate and 
 fatal, I mean poverty and riches, he persuaded 
 them to cancel all former divisions of land, and 
 to make new ones, in such a manner tl^ they 
 might be perfectly equal in their possessions and 
 way of living. Hence, if thejr were ambitious of : 
 distinction they might seek it in virtue, as no 
 other difference was left between them, but that 
 which arises from the dishonour of base actions 
 and the praise of good ones. His proposal was 
 put in practice. He made 9000 ^ lots for the 
 territory of Sparta, which he distributed among 
 so many citizens, and 30,000 for the inhabitants 
 of the rest of Laconia. But some say he made 
 only 6000 shares for the city, and that Polydorus 
 added 3000 afterwards; others, that Polydorou 
 doubled the number appointed by Lycurgus, 
 which were only 4500, Each tot was capable of 
 producing (one year with another) seventy bushels 
 of grain for each man,t and twelve for each 
 woman, besides a quantity of wine and oil in 
 proportion. Such a provision they thought 
 sufficient for health and a good habit of body, and 
 they wanted nothing more. A story goes of our 
 legislator, that some time after, returning from a 
 journey through the fields just reaped, and seeing 
 the shocks standing parallel and equal, he smiled, 
 and said to some that were by, “ How like is 
 Laconia to an estate newly divided among many 
 brothers ! ” 
 
 * WTxatever Plutarch might mean by ravra fxev \ 
 ovv vcTT^oy^ it is certain that kingly pov er was 
 abolished in the states of Mes.sene and Argos long 
 before the time of Lycurgus the lawgiver, and a 
 democracy had taken place in those citi^. In- 
 deed, those states experienced great internal 
 troubles, not only while under the government 
 of kings, but when in the form of commonwealths, 
 and never, after the time of Lycurgus, made any 
 figure equal to Lacedaemon. 
 
 f By a man is meant a master of a family, , 
 whose household was to subsist upon these seventy j 
 bushels. j 
 
 D 
 
^4 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 After this, he attempted to divide also the 
 movables, in order to take away all appearance 
 of inequality ; but he soon perceived that they 
 could not bear to have their goods directly taken 
 from them, and therefore took another method, 
 counterworking their avarice by a stratagem.* 
 First he stopped the currency of the gold and 
 silver coin, and ordered that they should make 
 use of iron money only ; then to a great quantity 
 and weight of this he assigned but a small value ; 
 so that to lay up ten a whole room was 
 
 required, and to remove it, nothing less than a 
 yoke of oxen. When this became current, many 
 kinds of injustice ceased in Lacedsemon. Who 
 would steal or take a bribe, who would defraud 
 or rob, when he could not conceal the booty ; 
 when he could neither be dignified by the posses- 
 sion of it, nor if cut in pieces be served by its use ? 
 For we are told that when hot, they quenched it 
 in vinegar, to make it brittle and unmalleable, and 
 consequently unfit for any other service. In the 
 next place, he excluded unprofitable and super- 
 fluous arts : indeed, if he had not done this, most 
 of them would have fallen of themselves, when 
 the new money took place, as the manufactures 
 could not be disposed of. Their iron coin would 
 not pass in the rest of Greece, but was ridiculed 
 and despised ; so that the Spartans had no means 
 of purchasing any foreign or curious wares ; nor 
 did any merchant-ship unlade in their harbours. 
 There were not even to be found in all their 
 country either sophists, wandering fortune-tellers, 
 keepers of infamous houses, or dealers in gold and 
 silver trinkets, because thxcre was no money. 
 Thus luxury, losing by degrees the means that 
 cherished and supported it, died away of itself : 
 even they who had great possessions, had no 
 advantage from them, since they could not be 
 displayed in public, but must lie useless, in un- 
 regarded repositories. Hence it was, that ex- 
 cellent workmanship was shown in their useful 
 and necessary furniture, as beds, chairs, and 
 tables ; and the Lacedemonian cup called cothon, 
 as Critias informs us, was highly valued, particu- 
 larly in campaigns : for the water, which must 
 then of necessity be drank, though it would often 
 otherwise offend the sight, had its muddiness con- 
 cealed by the colour of the cup, and the thick part 
 stopping at the shelving brim, it came clearer to 
 
 the lips. Of these improvements the lawgiver was 
 the cause ; for the workmen having no more 
 employment in matters of mere curiosity, showed 
 the excellence of their art in necessary things. 
 
 Desirous to complete the conquest of luxury, 
 and exterminate the love of riches, he introduced 
 a third institution, which was wisely enough and 
 ingeniously contrived. This was the use of public 
 tables,* where all were to eat in common of the 
 same meat, and such kinds of it as were appointed 
 by law. At the same time, they were forbidden 
 to eat at home, upon expensive couches and 
 tables, to call in the assistance of butchers and 
 cooks, or to fatten like voracious animals in 
 private. For so not only their manners would 
 be corrupted, but their bodies disordered ; aban- 
 doned to all manner of sensuality and dissolute- 
 ness, they would require long sleep, warm baths, 
 and the same indulgence as in perpetual sickness. 
 To effect this was certainly very great ; but it was 
 greater still, to secure riches from rapine and from 
 envy, as Theophrastus expresses it, or rather hy 
 their eating in common, and by the frugality of 
 their table, to take from riches their very being. 
 For what use or enjoyment of them, what peculiar 
 display of magnificence could there be, where the 
 poor man went to the same refreshment with the 
 rich? Hence the observation, that it was only at 
 Sparta where Plutns (according to the proverb) 
 was kept blind, and, like an image, destitute of 
 life or motion. It must further be obser\^ed, that 
 they had not the privilege to eat at home, and so 
 to come without "appetite to the public repast : 
 they made a point of it to observe any one that 
 did not eat and drink with them, and to reproach 
 him as an intemperate and effeminate person that 
 was sick of the common diet. 
 
 The rich, therefore (we are told), were more 
 offended with this regulation than with any other, 
 and, rising in a body, they loudly expressed their 
 indignation : nay, they proceeded so far as to 
 assault Lycurgus with stones, so that he was 
 forced to fly from the assembly and take refuge 
 in a temple. Unhappily, however, before he 
 reached it, a young man, named Alcander, hasty 
 in his resentments, though not otherwise ill- 
 tempered, came up with him, and, upon his turn- 
 
 * Xenophon seems to have penetrated farther 
 into the reason of this institution than any other 
 author, as indeed he had better opportunity to 
 do : the rest only say, that this was intended to 
 repress luxury ; but he very v/isely remarks, that 
 it was also intended to serve for a kind of school 
 or academy, where the young were instructed by 
 the old, the former relating the great things that 
 had been performed within their memory, and 
 thereby exciting the growing generation to distin- 
 guish themselves by performances equally great. 
 
 But as it was found impracticable for all the 
 citizens to eat in common, when the number of 
 them came to exceed the number of the lots of 
 land, Dacier thinks it might have been better if 
 the lawgiver had ordained that ‘those public tables 
 should be maintained at the expense of the public, 
 as it was done in Crete. But it must be con- 
 sidered, that, while the discipline of Lycurgus 
 was kept up in its purity, they provided against 
 any inconvenience from the increase of citizens, 
 by sending out colonies, and Lacedaemon was not 
 burdened with poor till the declension of that 
 state. 
 
 * For a long time after Lycurgus, the Spartans 
 gloriously opposed the growth of avarice ; inso- 
 much, that a young man, who had bought an 
 estate at a great advantage, was called to account 
 fork, and a fine set upon him. For, besides the 
 iniustice he was guilty of in buying a thing for 
 less than it was worth, they judged that he was 
 too desirous of gain, since his mind was employed 
 in getting, at an age when others think of nothing 
 but spending. 
 
 But when the Spartans, no longer satisfied with 
 their own territories (as Lycurgus had enjoined 
 them to be), came to be engaged in foreign wars, 
 their money not being passable in other countries, 
 they found themselves obliged to apply to the 
 Persians, whose gold and silver dazzled their eyes. 
 And their covetousness grew at length so infamous, 
 that it occasioned the proverb mentioned by 
 Plato, “One may see a great deal of money 
 carried into Lacedaemon, but one never sees any 
 of it brought out again.’* 
 
 t ;^ 3 i ss’. lod. sterling. 
 
LYCURGUS, 3 ^ 
 
 ing round, struck out one of his eyes with a stick. 
 
 ‘ Lycurgus then stopped short, and without giving 
 way to passion, showed the people his eye beat 
 out, and his face streaming with blood. They 
 were so struck with shame and sorrow at the 
 sight, that they surrendered Alcander to him, 
 and conducted him home with the utmost expres- 
 sions of regret. Lycurgus thanked them for their 
 care of his person, and dismissed them all except 
 • Alcander. He took him into his house, but 
 showed him no ill-treatment either by word or 
 action ; only ordering him to wait upon him, in- 
 stead of his usual servants and attendants. The 
 youth, who was of an ingenuous disposition, with- 
 out murmuring, did as he was commanded. Living 
 in this manner with Lycurgus, and having an 
 opportunity to observe the mildness and goodness 
 of his heart, his strict temperance and indefati- 
 gable industry, he told his friends that Lycurgus 
 was not that proud and severe man he might have 
 been taken for, but, above all others, gentle and 
 engaging in his behaviour. This, then, was the 
 chastisement, and this punishment he suffered, of 
 a wild and headstrong young man to become a 
 very modest and prudent citizen. In memory of 
 his misfortune, Lycurgus built a temple to Mi- 
 nerva Optiletis, so called by him from a term 
 which the Dorians use for the eye. Yet Dios- 
 corides, who wrote a treatise concerning the La- 
 cedaemonian government, and others, relate that 
 his eye was hurt, but not put out, and that he 
 built the temple in gratitude to the goddess for 
 his cure. However, the Spartans never carried 
 staves to their assemblies afterwards. 
 
 The public repasts were called by the Cretans 
 Andria; but the Lacedaemonians styled them 
 Phiditia, either from their t^xidLO.xiQ.yX.0 friendship 
 and mutual benevolence, phiditia being used in- 
 stead of philitia; or else from their teaching 
 frugality and parsimony^ which the word pheido 
 signifies. But it is not at all impossible, that the 
 first letter might by some means or other be added, 
 and so phiditia take place of editia., which barely 
 signifies eatbig. There were fifteen persons to a 
 table, or a few more or less. Each of them was 
 obliged to bring in monthly a bushel of meal, eight 
 gallons of wine, five pounds of cheese, two pounds 
 and a half of fi.gs, and a little money to buy flesh 
 and fish. If any of them happened to offer a 
 sacrifice of first fruits, or to kill venison, he sent 
 a part of it to the public table : for after a sacrifice 
 or hunting, he was at liberty to sup at home : but 
 the rest were to appear at the usual place. For a 
 long time this eating in common was observed 
 with great exactness : so that when king'Agis re- 
 turned from a successful expedition against the 
 Athenians, and from a desire to sup with his wife, 
 requested to have his portion at home,* the Pole- 
 marchs refused to send it : f nay, when through 
 resentment, he neglected the day following to 
 offer the sacrifice usual on occasion of victory, 
 they set a fine upon him. Children also were 
 
 introduced at these public tables, as so many 
 schools pf sobriety. There they heard discourses 
 concerning government, and v/ere instructed in 
 the most liberal breeding. There they were 
 allowed to jest without scurrility, and were not 
 to take it ill when the raillery was returned. For 
 it was reckoned worthy of a Lacedcemo7iian to 
 Uar a jest : but if any one’s patience failed, he 
 had only to desire them to be quiet, and they left 
 off immediately. When they first entered, the 
 oldest man present pointed to the door, and said, 
 “Not^a word spoken in this company goes out 
 there.” The admitting of any man to a particular 
 table was under the following regulation. Each 
 member of that small society took a little ball 
 of soft bread in his hand. This he was to drop, 
 without saying a word, into a vessel called caddos, 
 which the waiter carried upon his head. In case 
 he approved of the - candidate, he did it without 
 altering the figure, if not, he first pressed it flat 
 in his hand ; for a flatted ball was considered as a 
 negative. And if but one such was found, the 
 person was not admitted, as they thought it 
 proper that the whole company should be satisfied 
 with each other. He who was thus rejected, was 
 said to have no luck in the caddos. The dish 
 that was in the highest esteem amongst them was 
 the black broth. The old men were so fond of it, 
 that they ranged themselves on one side and eat 
 it, leaving the meat to the young people. It is 
 related of a king of Pontus,* that he purchased a 
 Lacedaemonian cook, for the sake of this broth. 
 But when he came to taste it, he strongly ex- 
 pressed his dislike; and the cook made answer, 
 “Sir, to make this broth relish, it is necessary 
 first to bathe in the Eurotas.” After they had 
 drank moderately, they went home without lights. 
 Indeed, they were forbidden to walk with a light 
 either on this or any other occasion, that they 
 might accustom themselves to march in the dark- 
 est night boldly and resolutely. Such was the 
 order of their public repasts. 
 
 Lycurgus left none of his laws in writing; It 
 was ordered in one of the Rhetrce that none should 
 be written. For what he thought most conducive 
 to the_ virtue and happiness of a city, was prin- 
 ciples interwoven with the manners and breeding 
 of the people. These would remain immovable, 
 as founded in inclination, and be the strongest 
 and most lasting tie ; and the habits which educa- 
 tion produced in the youth, would answer in each 
 the purpose of a lawgiver. As for smaller matters, 
 contracts about property, and whatever occasion- 
 ally varied, it was better not to reduce these to 
 a written form and unalterable method, but to 
 suffer them to change with the times, and to 
 admit of additions or retrenchments at the plea- 
 sure of persons so well educated. For he resolved 
 the whole business of legislation Into the bringing 
 up of youth. And this, as we have observed, was 
 the reason why one of his ordinances forbad them 
 to have any written laws. 
 
 Another ordinance levelled against magnificence - 
 and expense, directed that the ceilings of houses 
 should be wrought with no tool but the axe, and 
 the doors with nothing but the saw. For, as 
 Epaminondas is reported to have said afterwards 
 of his table, “Treason lurks not under such a 
 
 * The kings of Sparta had always double com- 
 mons allowed them ; not that they were permitted 
 to indulge their appetites more than others, but 
 that they might have an opportunity of sharing 
 their portion with some brave man whom they ^ 
 chose to distinguish with that honour. 
 
 t The Polemarchs were those who had com- 
 manded the army under the kings, "fhe principal ^ 
 men in the state always divided the commons. ; 
 
 * This story is elsewhere told by Plutarch of 
 Dionysius the tyrant of Sicily ; and Cicero con- 
 firms it, that he was the person. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 
 dinner,*’ so Lycurgus perceived before him, that 
 such a house admits of no luxury and needless 
 splendour. Indeed, no man could be so absurd, 
 as to bring into a dwelling so homely and simple, 
 bedsteads with silver feet, purple coverlets, golden 
 cups, and a train of expense that follows these : 
 but all would necessarily have the bed suitable to 
 the room, the coverlet of the bed and the rest of 
 their utensils and furniture to that. From this 
 plain sort of dwellings, proceeded the question of 
 Leotychidas the elder to his host, when he supped 
 at Corinth, and saw the ceiling of the room very 
 splendid and curiously wrought, “Whether trees 
 grew square in his country.”* 
 
 A third ordinance of Lycurgus was, that they 
 should not often make war against the same 
 enemy, lest, by being frequently put upon defend- 
 ing themselves, they too should become able 
 warriors in their turn. And this they most 
 blamed king Agesilaus for afterwards, that by 
 frequent and continued incursions into Boeotia,t 
 he taught the Thebans to make head against the 
 Lacedaemonians. This made Antalcidas say, 
 when he saw him wounded, “ The Thebans pay 
 you well for making them good soldiers, who 
 neither were willing nor able to fight you before.” 
 These ordinances he called Rhetrce, as if they 
 had been oracles and decrees of the Deity him- 
 
 As for the education of youth, which he looked 
 upon as the greatest and most glorious, work of 
 a lawgiver, he began wdth it at the very source, 
 taking into consideration their conception and 
 birth, by regulating the marriages. _ For he did 
 not (as Aristotle says) desist from his attempt to 
 bring the women under sober rules. They had, 
 indeed, assumed great liberty and power on 
 account of the frequent expeditions of their hus- 
 bands, during which they were left sole mistresses 
 at home, and so gained an undue deference and 
 improper titles ; b^ut notwithstanding this he took 
 all possible care of them. . He ordered the virgins 
 to exercise themselves in running, wrestling, and 
 throwing quoits and darts ; that their bodies being 
 strong and vigorous, the children afterwards pro- 
 duced from them might be the same ; and that, 
 thus fortified by exercise, they might the better 
 support the pangs of childbirth, and be delivered 
 with safety. In order to take away the excessive 
 tenderness and delicacy of the sex, the conse- 
 quence of a recluse life, he accustomed the virgins 
 occasionally to be seen naked as well as the young 
 men, and to dance and sing in their presence on 
 certain festivals. There they sometimes indulged 
 in a little raillery upon those that had misbehaved 
 themselves, and sometimes they sung encomiums 
 on such as deserved them, thus exciting in the 
 young men a useful emulation and love of glory. 
 For he who was praised for his bravery and cele- 
 brated among the virgins, went away perfectly 
 happy : while their satirical glances thrown out 
 in sport, were no less cutting than serious ad- 
 
 * This is rendered by the former English trans- 
 lator, as if Leotychidas’s question proceeded from 
 ignorance, whereas it was really an arch sneer 
 upon the sumptuous and expensive buildings of 
 Corinth. 
 
 t This appeared plainly at the battle of Leuctra, 
 where the Lacedaemonians were overthrown by 
 Epaminondas, and lost their king Cleombrotus, 
 together with the flower of their army. 
 
 monitions; especially as the kings and senate 
 went with the other citizens to see all that passed. 
 As for the virgins appearing naked, there was 
 nothing disgraceful in it, because everything was 
 conducted with modesty, and without one indecent 
 word or action. Nay it caused a simplicity of 
 manners and an emulation for the best habit of 
 body ; their ideas, too, were naturally enlarged, 
 while they were not excluded from their share of 
 bravery and honour. Hence they were furnished 
 with sentiments and language, such as Gorgo the 
 wife of Leonidas is said to have m.ade use of. 
 When a woman of another country said to her, 
 “You of Lacedaemon are the only women in the 
 world that rule the men-:” she answered, “We 
 are the only women that bring forth men.” 
 
 These public dances and other exercises of the 
 young maidens naked, in sight of the young men, 
 were, moreover, incentives to marriage : and, to 
 use Plato’s expression, drew them almost as 
 necessarily by the attractions of love, as a geo- 
 metrical conclusion follows from the premises. 
 To encourage it still more, some marks of infamy 
 were set upon those that continued bachelors.* 
 For they were not permitted to see these exercises 
 of the naked virgins; and the magistrates com- 
 manded them to march naked round the market- 
 place in the winter, and to sing a song composed 
 against themselves, which expressed^ how justly 
 they were punished for their disobedience to the 
 laws. They were also deprived of that honour 
 and respect which the younger people paid to the 
 old ; so that nobody found fault with what was 
 said to Dercyllidas, though an eminent com- 
 mander. It seems, when he came one day into 
 company, a young man, instead of rising up and 
 giving place, told him, “You have no child to 
 give place to me, when I am old.” 
 
 In their marriages, the bridegroom carried off 
 the bride by violence ; and she was never chosen 
 in a tender age, but when she had arrived at full 
 maturity. Then the woman that had the direction 
 of the wedding, cut the bride’s hair close to the 
 skin, dressed her in man’s clothes, laid her upon 
 a mattress, and left her in the dark. The bride- 
 groom, neither oppressed with wine nor enervated 
 with luxury, but perfectly sober, as having always 
 supped at the common table, went in privately, 
 untied her girdle, and carried her to another bed. 
 Having stayed there a short time, he modestly 
 retired to his usual apartment, to sleep with the 
 other young men : and observed the same conduct 
 afterwards, spending the day with his companions, 
 and reposing himself with -them in the night, nor 
 even visiting his bride but with great caution and 
 apprehensions of being discovered by the rest of 
 the family; the bride at the same time exerted 
 all her art to contrive convenient opportunities 
 for their private meetings. And this they did not 
 for a short time only, but some of them even had 
 children before they had an interview with their 
 wives in the day time. This kind of commerce 
 
 * The time of marriage was fixed^; and if a 
 man did not marry when he was of full age, he 
 was liable to a prosecution ; as were such also 
 who married above or below themselves. Such 
 as had three children had great immunities ; and 
 those that had four were free from all taxes. 
 Virgins were married without portions, because 
 neither want should hinder a man, nor riches 
 induce him, to marry contrary to his inclinations. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 not only exercised their temperance and chastity, 
 but kept their bodies fruitful, and the first ardour 
 of their love fresh and unabated ; for as they were 
 not satiated like those that are alwaj's with their 
 wives, there still was place for unextinguished 
 desire. When he had thus established a proper 
 regard to modesty and decorum with respect to 
 i marriage, he was equally studious to drive from 
 that state the vain and womanish passion of 
 I jealousy ; by m a k ing it quite as reputable to have 
 ' children in common wdth persons of merit, as to 
 ‘ avoid all offensive freedom in their ovvti behaviour 
 I to^ their wives. H e laughed at those who revenge 
 I with wars and bloodshed the communication of a 
 ' married woman’s favours ; and allowed, that if a 
 
 ■ man in years should have a young wife, he might 
 introduce to her some handsome and honest young 
 man, whom he most approved of, and when she 
 had a child of this generous race, bring it up as 
 his own. On the other hand, he allow'ed, that if 
 
 : a m a n of character should entertain a passion for 
 : a married Vv'oman on account of her m^esty and 
 the beauty of her children, he might treat" with 
 = her husband for admission to her company,^ that 
 i so planting in a beauty-bearing soil, he might 
 produce excellent children, the congenial offspring 
 1 of excellent parents. For in the first place, Lycur- ' 
 gus considered children, not so much the property ' 
 of their parents, as of the state ; and therefore he 
 would not have them begot by ordinary persons, 
 but by the best men in it. In the next place, he 
 obser\*ed the vanity and absurdity of other nations, 
 where people study to have their horses and dogs 
 of the finest breed they can procure, either b3" in- 
 terest or money ; and yet keep their wives shut 
 up, that they ma^” have children by none but 
 tliemselves, though thej-may happen to be doting, 
 decrepit, or infirm. As if children, when sprung 
 from a bad stock, and consequently good for 
 nothing, were no detriment to those whom thej* 
 belong to, and "who have the trouble of bringing 
 them up, nor an3* advantage, when well descended 
 and of a generous disposition. These regulations 
 tending to secure a healthy offspring, and con- 
 
 ■ sequently beneficial to the state, were so far from 
 
 ■ encouraging that licentiousness of the women 
 I w’hich prevailed afterv-ards, that adultery was 
 I net known amongst them. A sajing, upon this 
 
 subject, of Geradas an ancient Spartan, is thus 
 : related. A stager had asked him, ‘‘What 
 punishment their law appointed for adulterers ? ” 
 
 ■ He answered, “ My friend, there are no adulterers 
 in our country.” The other replied, “ But what, 
 if there should be one?” “ WTiy then,” says 
 Geradas, “he must forfeit a bull so large that he 
 
 j naight drink of the Eurotas from the top of Mount 
 ' ’laj^getus.” ^ When the stranger expressed his 
 surprise at this, and said, “ How can such a bull 
 be found?” Geradas answered with a smile, 
 
 ; “How can an adulterer be found in Sparta?” 
 This is the accoimt we have of their marriages- , 
 It was not left to the father to rear what children ' 
 he pleased, but he was obliged to carry the child 
 to a place called Lesche, to be examined by the ■ 
 most ancient men of the tribe, who were assembled 
 there. If it was strong and well proportioned, ' 
 
 • thejr gave orders for its education, and assigned it 
 one of the 9000 shares of land ; but if it was weakly 
 j and deformed, they ordered it to be thrown into 
 
 . In this case the kings were excepted : for they ’ 
 
 ' were not at liberty to lend their 'wives. 
 
 the place called ApotheteB,yf\^<doi is a deep cavern 
 near the mountain Taygetus : concluding that its \ 
 life could be no advantage either to itself or to 
 the public, since nature had not given it at first 
 ; any strength or goodness of constitution.* For ‘ 
 j the same reason the women did not wash their 
 ; ne’w-bom infants with water, but with 'wine, thus ; 
 ' making some trial of their habit o : body ; imagining 
 that sickly and epileptic children sink and die 
 under the experiment, while healthy became more 
 ^’igorous and hardy. Great care and art was also 
 exeited the nurses ; for, as they never swathed 
 the infants, their limbs had a freer turn, and their 
 countenances a more liberal air; besides, they 
 used them to any sort of meat, to have no terrors 
 in the darl^ ncr to be afraid of being alone, and 
 to leave all ill humour and unmanly crying. Hence \ 
 I>eopIe of other countries purchased Lacedmmonian ’ 
 nurses^ for_ their children ; and Alcibiades the 
 Athenian is said to have been nursed by Amycla 
 a Spartan. ^ But if he was fortunate in a nurse, he 
 was not so in a preceptor ; for Zopyrus, appointed 
 to that office by Pericles, was, as Plato tells us, 
 no better qualified than a common slave. The 
 Spartan children were not in that manner, imder 
 tutors purchased or hired wuth money, nor were 
 the parents at liberty to educate them as thev 
 pleased : but as soon as they were seven . veare 
 old, Lycurgus ordered them to be enrolled in 
 companies, where they were all kept under the 
 same order and discipline, and had their exercises 
 and recreations in common. He who showed the 
 most conduct and courage amongst them, was 
 made captain of the company. The rest kent 
 their ey^ upon him, obe\*ed his orders, and bore 
 ■vfith patience the punishment he inflicted : so that 
 tueir whole education was an exercise of obedience. 
 The old men were present at their diversions, and 
 often suggested some occa si on of dispute or 
 quarrel, that they might observe with exactness 
 the spirit of each, and their firmness in battle. 
 
 As for learning,! they had just what was abso- 
 
 * The general expediency of this law may well, 
 be disputed, though it suited the martial constitu- 
 ticn of Sparta ; since many' persons of weak con- 
 stitutions make up in ingenuity what they want 
 in strength, and so become more valuable members 
 of the co mmuni ty than the most robust. It seems, 
 however, to have had one good effect, viz. making 
 'women very carefi^ during their pregnancy, of 
 either eating, drinking or exercising to excess. It 
 made them also excellent nurses, as is observed 
 just below. 
 
 t The plainness of* their manners, and their 
 being so very much addicted to war, made the 
 Lacedaemonians less fond of the sciences than the 
 rest of the Greeks. If they wrote to be read, and 
 spoke to be understood, it 'was all they sought 
 For this, the Athenians, who were excessively 
 vain of their learning, held them in great con- 
 tempt ; insomuch that Thucydides himself, in 
 drawing the character of Brasidas, says, “ He ■ 
 spoke weU enough for a Lacedaemonian.” On 
 this occasion, it is proper to mention the answer ' 
 of a Spartan to a learned Athenian, who upbraided • 
 him w'ith the ignorance of his country : “All you ! 
 say may be true, and yet it amounts to no more, 
 than that we only amongst the Greeks have 
 learned no e'ril customs from you.” The Spartans, 
 however, had a force and poignancy of expression* , 
 v.-hich cut down all the flowers of studied elegance. ■ 
 
lately necessary. All the rest of their education 
 was calculated to make them subject to command, 
 to endure labour, to fight and conquer. They 
 added, therefore, to their discipline, as they ad- 
 vanced in age ; cutting their hair very close, 
 making them go barefoot, and play, for the most 
 part, quite naked. At twelve years of age, their 
 under garment was taken away, and but one 
 upper one a year allowed them. Hence they 
 were necessarily dirty in their persons, and not 
 indulged the great favour of baths and oils, except 
 on some particular days of the year. They slept 
 in companies, on beds made of the tops of reeds, 
 which they gathered with their own hands, with- 
 out knives, and brought from the banks of the 
 Eurotas. In winter they were permitted to add a 
 . little thistle-down, as that seemed to have some 
 ! warmth in it. 
 
 At this age, the most distinguished amongst 
 them became the favourite companions of the 
 elder ; * * and the old men attended more con- 
 stantly their places of exercise, observing their 
 trials of strength and wit, not slightly and in a 
 cursory manner, but as their fathers, guardians, 
 and governors ; so that there was neither time nor 
 place, where persons were wanting to instruct and 
 chastise them. One of the best and ablest men in 
 the city was, moreover, appointed inspector of the 
 youth : and he gave the command of each com- 
 pany to the discreetest and most spirited of those 
 called Irens, An Iren was one that had been 
 two years out of the class of boys : a Mellireti one 
 of the oldest lads. This Ireti, then, a youth 
 twenty years old, gives orders to those under his 
 command, in their little battles, and has them to 
 serve him at his house. He sends the oldest of 
 them to fetch wood, and the younger to gather 
 pot-herbs : these they steal where they can find 
 them,*}* either slyly getting into gardens, or else 
 
 This was the consequence of their concise way of 
 speaking, and their encouraging, on all occasions, 
 decent repartee. Arts were in no greater credit 
 with them than sciences. Theatrical diversions 
 found no countenance ; temperance and exercise 
 made the physician unnecessary ; their justice 
 left no room for the practice of the lawyer ; and 
 all the trades that minister to luxury were un- 
 known. As for agriculture, and such mechanic 
 business as was absolutely necessary, it was left 
 to the slaves. 
 
 * Though the youth of the male sex were much 
 cherished and beloved, as those that were to 
 build up the future glory of the state, yet in 
 Sparta it was a virtuous and modest affection, 
 untinged with that sensuality which was so 
 scandalous at Athens and other places. Xenophon 
 says, these lovers lived with those they were 
 attached to, as a father does with his children, or 
 a brother with his brethren. The good effects of 
 this part of Lycurgus’s institutions were seen in 
 the union that reigned among the citizens. 
 
 *f Not that the Spartans authorized thefts and 
 robberies ; for as all was in common in their 
 republic, those vices could have no place there. 
 But the design was to accustom children who 
 were destined for war, to surprise the vigilance of 
 those who, watched over them, and to expose 
 themselves courageously to the severest punish- 
 ments, in case they failed of that dexterity 
 which was exacted of them, a dexterity that 
 would have been attended with fatal effects to the 
 
 craftily and ^ warily creeping to the common 
 tables. But if any one be caught, he is severely 
 flogged for negligence or want of dexterity. 
 They steal, too, whatever victuals they possibly 
 can, ingeniously contriving to do it when persons 
 are asleep, or keep but indifferent watch. If 
 they are discovered, they are punished not only 
 with whipping, but with hunger. Indeed, their 
 supper is but slender at all times, that, to fence 
 against want, they may be forced to exercise their 
 courage and address. This is the first intention 
 of their spare diet : a subordinate one is, to make 
 them grow tall. For when the animal spirits are 
 not too much oppressed by a great quantity of 
 food, which stretches itself out in breadth and 
 thickness, they mount upwards by their natural 
 lightness, and the body easily and freely shoots 
 up in height. This also contributes to make 
 them handsome : for thin and slender habits yield 
 more freely to nature, which then gives a fine 
 proportion to the limbs ; whilst the heavy and 
 gross resist her by their weight. So women that 
 take physic during their pregnancy, have slighter 
 children indeed, but of a finer and more delicate 
 turn, because the suppleness of the matter more 
 readily obeys the plastic power. However, these 
 are speculations which we shall leave to others. 
 
 The boys steal with so much caution, that one 
 of them, having conveyed a young fox under his 
 garment, suffered the creature to tear out his 
 bowels with his teeth and claws, choosing rather 
 to die than to be detected. Nor does this appear 
 incredible, if we consider what their young men 
 can endure to this day ; for we have seen many of 
 them expire under the lash at the altar of Diana 
 Orthia.* 
 
 The Iren, reposing himself after supper, used 
 to order one of the boys to sing a song; to another 
 he put some question which required a judicious 
 answer : for example, who was the best man 
 in the city ; or, what he thought of such an 
 action. This accustomed them from their child- 
 hood to judge of the virtues, to enter into the 
 affairs of their countrymen. For if one of them 
 was asked, “ Who is a good citizen, or who an in- 
 famous one ? ” and hesitated in his answer, he was 
 considered as a boy of slosv parts, and of a soul 
 that would not aspire to honour. The answer 
 was likewise to have a reason assigned for it, and 
 proof conceived in few words. He whose account 
 of the matter was wrong, by way of punishment, 
 had his thumb bit by the Iren. The old men and 
 
 morals of any youth but the Spartan, educated as 
 that was, to contemn riches and superfluities, and 
 guarded in all other respects by the severest 
 virtue. 
 
 * This is supposed to be the Diana Tatirica, 
 whose statue Orestes is said to have brought to 
 Lacedsemon, and to whom human victims were 
 offered. It is pretended that Lycurgus abolished 
 these sacrifices, and substituted in their room the 
 flagellation of young men, with whose blood the 
 altar was, at least, to be sprinkled. But, in 
 truth, a desire of overcoming all the weaknesses 
 of human nature, and thereby rendering his 
 Spartans not only 'superior to their neighbours, 
 but to their species, runs through many of the 
 institutions of Lycurgus ; which principle, if well 
 attended to, thoroughly explains them, and with- 
 out attending to which it is impossible to give any 
 account at all of sopie of them. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 39 
 
 magistrates often attended these little trials, to 
 see whether the Iren exercised his authority in a 
 rational and proper manner. He was permitted, 
 indeed, to inflict the penalties ; but when the 
 boys were gone, he was to be chastised himself if 
 he had punished them either with too much 
 severity or remissness. 
 
 The adopters of favourites also shared both in 
 the honour and disgrace of their boys : and one of 
 them is said to have been mulcted by the magis- 
 trates, because the boy whom he had taken into 
 his affections let some ungenerous word or cry 
 escape him as he was fighting. This love was 
 so honourable, and in so much esteem, that the 
 virgins too had their lovers amongst the most 
 virtuous matrons. A competition of affection 
 caused no misunderstanding, but rather a mutual 
 friendship between those that had fixed their re- 
 gards upon the same youth, and a united en- 
 deavour to make him as accomplished as possible. 
 
 The boys were also taught to use sharp repartee, 
 seasoned with humour, and whatever they said 
 was to be concise and pithy. For Lycurgus, as 
 we have observed, fixed but a small value on a 
 considerable quantity of his iron money ; but on 
 the contrary, the worth of speech was to consist 
 in its being comprised in a few plain words, preg- 
 nant with a great deal of sense : and he contrived 
 that by long silence they might learn to be sen- 
 tentious and acute in their replies. As debauchery 
 often causes weakness and sterility in the body, 
 so the intemperance of the tongue makes conver- 
 sation empty and insipid. King Agis, therefore, 
 when a certain Athenian laughed at the Lacedae- 
 monian short swords, and said, “The jugglers 
 would swallow them with ease upon the stage,” 
 answered in his laconic way, “ And yet we can 
 reach our enemies hearts with them.” Indeed, to 
 me there seems to be something in this concise 
 manner of speaking which immediately reaches 
 the object aimed at, and forcibly strikes the mind 
 of the hearer. ^ Lycurgus hinaself was short and 
 sententious in his discourse, if we may judge by 
 some of his answers which are recorded ; that, for 
 instance, concerning the constitution. When one 
 advised him to establish a popular government in 
 Lacedaemon, “ Go,” said he, “ and first make a 
 trial of it in thy own family.”^ That again, con- 
 cerning sacrifices to the Deity, when he was 
 asked why he appointed them so trifling and of so 
 little value, “ That we may never be in want,” 
 said he, “of soniething to offer him.” Once 
 more, when they inquired of him, what sort of 
 martial exercises he allowed of, he answered, 
 “All, except those in which you stretch* out 
 your hands.” Several such like replies of his are 
 said to be taken from the letters which he wrote 
 to his countrymen: as to their question, “How 
 shall we ^ best guard against the invasion of an 
 enemy ? ” “ By continuing poor, and not desiring 
 
 in your possessions to be one above another.” 
 And to the question, whether they should enclose 
 Sparta with walls, “ That city is well fortified 
 which has a wall of men instead of brick.” 
 ^Vhether these and some other letters ascribed to 
 him are genuine or not, is no easy matter to 
 determine. However, that they hated long 
 speeches, the follo\ving apophthegms are a farther 
 proof. King Leonidas said to one who discoursed 
 
 * This was the form of demanding quarter in 
 battle. 
 
 at an improper time about affairs of some con- 
 cern, “ My friend, you should not talk so much 
 to the purpose, of what it is not to the purpose to 
 talk of.” Charilaus, the nephew of Lycurgus, 
 being asked why his uncle had made so few laws, 
 answered, “To men of few words ew laws are 
 sufficient.” Some people finding fault with He- 
 cataeus the sophist, because when admitted to one 
 of the public repasts, he said nothing all the time, 
 Archidamidas replied, “ He v/ho knows how to 
 speak, knows also when to speak,” 
 
 The manner of their repartees, which, as I said, 
 were seasoned with humour, may be gathered 
 from these instances. When a troublesome fellow 
 was pestering Demaratus with impertinent ques- 
 tions, and this in particular several times re- 
 peated, “Who is the best man in Sparta?” He 
 answered, “He that is least like you.” To some 
 who were commending the Eleans for managing 
 the Olympic games with so much justice and 
 propriety, Agis said, “ What great matter is it, if 
 the Eleans do justice once in five years? ” When 
 a stranger was professing his regard for Theo- 
 pompus,^ and saying that his own countrymen 
 called him Philolacon (a lover of the Lacedae- 
 monians,) the king answered him, “My good 
 friend, it were much better, if they called you 
 Philopolites ” (a lover of your own countrymen). 
 Plistonax, the son of Pausanias, replied to an 
 orator of Athens, who said the Lacedaemonians 
 had no learning, “ True, for we are the only 
 people of Greece that have learned no ill of you.” 
 To one who asked what number of men there was 
 in Sparta, Archidamidas said, “Enough to keep 
 bad men at a distance.” 
 
 Even when they indulged a vein of pleasantry, 
 one might perceive, that they would not use one 
 unnecessary word, nor let an expression escape 
 them that had not some sense worth attending to. 
 For one being asked to go and hear a person who 
 imitated the nightingale to perfection, answered, 
 
 “ I have heard the nightingale herself.” Another 
 said, upon reading this epitaph — 
 
 Victims of Mars, at Selinus they fell. 
 
 Who quench’d the rage of tyranny, 
 
 “And they deserved to fall, for, instead of quench- 
 ingit, they should have let it burn out’* A young 
 man answered one that promised him some game 
 cocks that would stand their death, “ Give me 
 those that will be the death of others.” Another, 
 seeing some people carried into the country in 
 litters, said, “ May I never sit in anyplace where 
 I cannot rise before the aged ! ” This was the 
 manner of their apophthegms : so that it has been 
 justly enough observed that the term lakonizein 
 (to act the Lacedaemonian) is to be referred rather 
 to the exercises of the mind, than those of the body. 
 
 Nor were poetry and music less cultivated 
 among them, than a concise dignity of expression. 
 Their scngs had a spirit, which could rouse the 
 soul, and impel it in an enthusiastic manner to 
 action. The language was plain and manly, the 
 .subject serious and moral. For they consisted 
 chiefly of the praises of heroes that had died for 
 Sparta, or else of expressions of detestation for 
 such wretches as had declined the glorious oppor- 
 tunity, and rather chose to drag on life in misery 
 and contempt. Nor did they forget to express an 
 ambition for glory suitable to their re.spective 
 ages. Of this it may not be amiss to give an 
 instance. There were three choirs on their 
 
40 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 festivals, corresponding with the three ages of 
 man. The old men began, 
 
 Once in battle bold vve shone ; 
 the young men answered, 
 
 Try us ; our vigour is not gone ; 
 and the boys concluded. 
 
 The palm remains for us alone. 
 
 Indeed, if we consider with some attention such 
 of the Lacedsemonian poems as are still extant, 
 and get into those airs which were played upon 
 the flute when they marched to battle, we must 
 agree, that Terpander* and Pindar have 
 fitly joined valour and music together. The 
 former thus speaks of Lacedaemon : 
 
 There gleams the youth’s bright falchion J there 
 the Muse 
 
 Lifts her sweet voice ; there awful Justice opes 
 Her wide pavilion. 
 
 And Pindar sings — 
 
 There in grave council sits the sage ; 
 
 There burns the youth’s resistless rage 
 To hurl the quivering lance ; 
 
 The Muse with glory crowns their arms. 
 
 And Melody exerts her charms. 
 
 And Pleasure leads the dance. 
 
 Thus we are informed, not only of their warlike 
 turn, but their skill in music. For, as the Spartan 
 poet says — 
 
 To swell the bold notes of the lyre. 
 Becomes the warrior’s lofty fire. 
 
 And the king always offered sacrifice to the t 
 muses before a battle, putting his troops in mind, 
 I suppose, of their early education and of the 
 judgment that would be passed upon them ; as 
 well as that those divinities might teach them to 
 despise danger, while they performed some exploit 
 fit for them to celebrate. 
 
 On these occasions f they relaxed the severity 
 of their discipline, permitting their men to be 
 curious in dressing their hair, and elegant in their 
 arms and apparel, while they expressed their 
 
 * Terpander was a poet and musician too (as 
 indeed they of those times were in general), who 
 added three strings to the harp, which till then 
 had but four. He flourished about 120 years after 
 Homer. 
 
 t Xenophon says, the king who commanded 
 the army sacrificed to Jupiter and Minerva on 
 the frontier of his kingdom. Probably the muses 
 were joined with Minerva the patroness of science. 
 
 + The true reason of this was, in all probability, 
 that war might be less burthensome to them ; for 
 to render them bold and warlike was the reigning 
 passion of their legislator. Under this article we 
 may add, that they were forbidden to remain 
 long encamped in the same place, as well to hinder 
 their being surprised, as that they might be more 
 troublesome to their enemies, by wasting every 
 corner of their country. They were also forbidden 
 to fight the same enemy often. They slept all 
 night in their armour ; but their out-guards ^yere 
 not allowed their shields, that, being unprovided 
 of defence, they might not dare to sleep. In all 
 expeditions they were careful in the performance 
 of religious rites : and, after their evening meal 
 was over, the soldiers sung together hymns to the 
 gods. 
 
 alacrity, like horses full of fire and neighing for 
 the race. They let their hair, therefore, grow 
 from their youth, but took more particular care, 
 when they expected an action, Jo have it well 
 combed and shining ; remembering a saying of 
 Lycurgus, that a large head of hair made the 
 handsome more graceful, and the ugly more 
 terrible. The exercises, too, of the young men, 
 during the campaigns, were more moderate, then- 
 diet not so hard, and their whole treatment more 
 indulgent : so that they were the only people m 
 the world, with whom military discipline wore in 
 time of war, a gentler face than usual. When the 
 army was drawn up, and the enemy near, the king 
 sacrificed a goat, and commanded them all to set 
 garlands upon their heads, and the musicians to 
 play Castro's march, while himself began the 
 paan, which was the signal to advance. It was 
 at once a solemn and drea^iful sight to see thern 
 measuring their steps to the sound of music, and 
 without the least disorder in their ranks or tumult 
 of spirits, moving forward cheer iully and com- 
 posedly, with harmony, to battle. Neither feai 
 nor rashness was likely to approve men so dis- 
 posed, possessed as they were of a firm pre.sence 
 of mind, with courage and confidence of success, 
 as under the conduct of heaven. When the hing 
 advanced against the enemy, he had always with 
 him some one that had been crowned in the public 
 games of Greece. And they tell us, that a Lacedse- 
 monian, when large sums were offered him on 
 condition that he would not enter the Olympic 
 lists, refused them ; having with m.uch difficulty 
 thrown his antagonist, one put this question to 
 him, “ Spartan, what will you get by this victory? 
 He answered with a smile, “ I shall have the 
 honour to fight foremost in the ranks before my 
 prince.” When they had routed the enemy, they 
 continued the pursuit till they were assured of the 
 victory : after that they immediately desisted ; 
 deeming it neither generous nor worthy of a 
 Grecian to destroy those who made no farther 
 resistance. This was not only a proof of magna- 
 nimity, but of great service to their cause. F or 
 when their adversaries found that they killed such 
 as stood it out, but spared the fugitives, they con- 
 cluded it was better to fly than to meet their fate 
 upon the spot. 
 
 Hippias the sophist tells us, that Lycurgus him- 
 self was a man of great personal valour, and an 
 experienced commander.* Philostephanus also 
 ascribes to him the first division of cavalry into 
 troops of fifty, who were drawn up m a square 
 body. But Demetrius the Phalerean says, that 
 he never had any military employment, and 
 that there was the profoundest peace imaginable 
 when he established the constitution of Sparta. 
 His providing for a cessation of arms during the 
 Olympic games is likewise a mark of the humane 
 and peaceable man. Some, however, acquaint 
 us, and among the rest Hermippus that Lycurgus 
 at first had no communication with Iphitus ; but 
 coming that wav, and happening to be a spectator, 
 he heard behind' him a human voice (as he thought) 
 which expressed some wonder and displeasure 
 
 * Xenophon, in his treatise of the Spartan 
 commonwealth, says, Lycurgus brought military 
 discipline to great perfection, and gives us a detail 
 of his regulations and improvement in the art ot 
 war ; some of which I have mentioned m the fore- 
 going note. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 that he did not put his countrymen upon resorting 
 to so great an assembly. He turned round imme- 
 diately, to discover whence the voice came, and 
 as there was no man to be seen, concluded it was 
 ■ from heaven. He joined Iphitus, therefore ; and 
 i ordering, along with him, the ceremonies of the 
 festival, rendered it more magnificent and lasting. 
 
 The discipline of the Lacedaemonians continued 
 after they were arrived at years of maturity. For 
 no man was at liberty to live as he pleaised ; the 
 city being like one great camp, where all had 
 their stated allowance, and knew their public 
 charge, each man concluding that he was bom, 
 not for himself, but for his country. Hence, if 
 they had no particular orders, they employed 
 themselves in inspecting the boys, and teaching 
 them something useful, or in learning of those 
 that were older than themselves. One of the 
 greatest privileges that Lycurgus procured his 
 countrymen, was the enjo3"ment of leisure, the 
 consequence of his forbidding them to exercise 
 any mechanic trade. 1 1 was not worth their while 
 to take great pains to raise a fortune, since riches 
 there were of no account : and the Helotes^ who 
 tilled the ground, \^^ere answerable for the pro- 
 duce above-mentioned. To this purpose we have 
 a story of a Lacedemonian, who, happening to 
 be at Athens while the court sat, was inrormed of 
 a man who was fined for idleness ; and when the 
 poor fellow was returning home in great dejection, 
 attended by his condoling friends, he desired the 
 company to show him the person that was con- 
 demned for keeping up his dignity. So much 
 beneath them they reckoned all attention to me- 
 ' chanic arts, and all desire of riches ! 
 
 ' Lawsuits were banished from Lacedaemon with 
 money. The Spartans knew neither riches nor 
 ’ poverty, but possessed an equal competency, and 
 : had a cheap and easy way of supplying their few 
 j v/ants. Hence, v/hen they were not engaged in 
 i war, their time was taken up with dancing, feast- 
 I ing, hunting, or meeting to exercise, or converse. 
 
 ; They went not to market under thirty years of 
 age,* all their necessary concerns being managed 
 by their relations and adopters. Nor was it 
 mckoned a credit to the old to be seen sauntering 
 in the market-place ; it was deemed more suitable 
 for them to pass great part of the day in the 
 schools of exercise, or places of conversation. 
 Their discourse seldom turned upon money, or 
 business, or trade, but upon the praise of the 
 excellent, or the contempt of the worthless ; and 
 the last was expressed with that pleasantry and 
 humour, which conveyed instruction and correc- 
 tion without seeming to intend it. Nor was 
 L>"curgus himself immoderately severe in his 
 manner ; but, as Sosibius tells us, he dedicated a 
 little statue to the god of laughter in each hall. 
 
 I He considered facetiousness as a seasoning of 
 j their hard exercise and diet, and therefore ordered 
 , it to take place on all proper occasions, in their 
 ! common entertainments and parties of pleasure, 
 j Upon the whole, he taught his citizens to think 
 nothing more disagreeable than to live by (or for) 
 themselves. Like bees, they acted with one im- 
 
 * This also is said to have been the age when 
 they began to serve in the army. But as they 
 were obliged to forty >"ears’ service before the law 
 exempted them from going into the field, I incline 
 to the opinion of those writers who think that the 
 military age is not well ascertained. 
 
 pulse for the public good, and always assembled j 
 about their prince. They were x>ossessed with a ! 
 thirst of honour, an enthusiasm bordering upon 
 insanity, and had not a wish but for their country, j 
 The.se sentiments are confirmed by some of their : 
 aphorisms. When Paedaretus lost his election for 
 one of the 300, he went away rejoicing that there 1 
 were 300 better men than himself found in the * 
 city.^ Pisistrati das going with some others, am- ‘ 
 bassador to the king of Persia’s lieutenants, was 
 asked whether they came with a public com- 
 mission, or on their own account, to which he ‘ 
 ans^vered, “ If successful, for the public ; if un- 
 succe.ssful, for ourselves.” Agrileonis, the mother 
 of Erasidas,t asking some Amphipolitans that 
 waited upon her at her house, whether Brasidas 
 died honourably and as became a Spartan ? they 
 greatly extolled his merit, and said, there was not 
 such a man left in Sparta ; whereupon she replied, 
 
 “ Say not so, my friends ; for Brasidas was indeed 
 a man of honour, but Lacedsemon can boast of 
 many better men than he.” 
 
 ^The senate, as I said before, consisted at first 
 of those that were assistants to Lycurgus in his 
 great enterprise. Aftenvards, to fill up any 
 vacancy that might happen, he ordered the most 
 worthy men to be selected, of those that were full 
 threescore years old. This was the most respect- 
 able dispute in the world, and the contest was 
 tnily glorious : for it was not v/ho should be ! 
 swiftest among the swift, or strongest of the 
 strong, but who vras the wisest and best among i 
 the good and wise. He who had the preference | 
 v/as to bear this mark of superior excellence ' 
 through life, this great authority, which put into j 
 his hands the lives and honour of the citizens, 
 and every other important affair. The manner of 
 the election was this : When the people were as- 
 sembled, some persons appointed for the purpose 
 were shut up in a room near the place; where 
 they could neither see nor be seen, and only hear 
 the shouts of the constituents : \ for by them they 
 decided this and most other affairs. Each candi- 
 date walked silently through the assembly, one 
 after another according to lot. Those that were 
 shut up had writing tables, in which they set 
 down in different columns the number and loud- 
 ness of the shouts, without knowing whom they 
 were for ; only they marked them as first, second, 
 third, and so on, according to the number of the 
 competitors. He that had the most and loudest 
 acclamations, was declared duly elected. Then 
 he was crowned with a garland, and went round 
 to give thanks to the gods : a number of j’oung 
 
 * Xenophon says, it was the custom for the 
 ephori to appoint three officers, each of whom was 
 to select 100 men, the best he could find ; and it 
 was a point of great emulation to be one of these • 
 300. 
 
 t Brasidas, the Lacedaemonian general, de- 
 feated the Athenians in a battle fought near 
 Amphipolis, a town of Macedonia, on the banks 
 of the Strymon, but lost his life in the action, j 
 Thucydid. lib. V. 
 
 X As this was a tumultuary and uncertain v.'ay 
 of deciding who had the majority, they were often 
 obliged to separate the people and count the votes. 
 Aristotle thinks that in such a case persons should 
 not offer themselves candidates, or solicit the 
 office or employment, but be called to it merely 
 for their abilities and their merit. 
 
42 
 
 rLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 men followed, striving which should extol him 
 most, and the women celebrated his virtues in 
 their songs, and blessed his worthy life and con- 
 duct. Each of his relations olYered him a repast, 
 
 I and their address on the occasion was, “ Sparta 
 I honours you with this collation. ” When he had 
 j linished the procession, he went to the common 
 table, and lived as before. Only two portions 
 i were set before him, one of which he carried away : 
 i and as all the women related to him attended at 
 ' the gates of the public hall, he called her for 
 whom he had the greatest esteem, and presented 
 her with the portu)n, saying at the same time, 
 “ That which I received as a mark of honour, I 
 give to you.” Then she was conducted home 
 with great applause by the rest of the women. 
 
 Lycurgus likewise made good regulations with 
 respect to burials. In the first place, to take 
 away all superstition, he ordered the dead to be 
 buried in the city, and even permitted their 
 monuments to be erected near the temples ; ac- 
 customing the youth to such sights from their 
 infancy, that they might have no uneasiness from 
 them nor any horror for death, as if people were 
 polluted with the touch of a dead body, or with 
 treading upon a grave. In the next place, he 
 sufiered nothing to be buried with the corpse, 
 except the red cloth and the olive leaves in which 
 it was wrapped.* Nor would he suffer the rela- 
 tions to inscribe any names upon the tombs, ex- 
 cept of those men that fell in battle, or those 
 women who died in some sacred office. He fixed 
 eleven days for the time of mourning : on the 
 twelfth the^'were to put an end to it, after offering 
 sacrifice to Ceres. No part of life was left vacant 
 and unimproved, but even with their necessary 
 actions he interwove the praise of virtue and the 
 contempt of vice ; and he so filled the city with 
 living examples, that it was next to impossible for 
 persons who had these from their infancy before 
 their e}'es, not to be drawn and formed to honour. 
 
 For the same reason he would not permit all 
 that desired to go abroad and see other countries, 
 lest they should contract foreign manners, gain 
 traces of a life of little discipline, and of a dif- 
 ferent form of goveiTiment. He forbade strangers, 
 too.t to resort to Sparta, who could not assign a 
 good reason for their coming ; not, as Thucydides 
 says, out of fear they should imitate the constitu- 
 tion of that city, and make improvements in 
 virtue, but lest they should teach his own people 
 some evil. For along with foreigners come new 
 subjects of discourse ; t new discourse produces 
 
 * iElian tells us (1. vi. c. 6) that not all the 
 citizens indifierently were buried in the red cloth 
 and olive leaves, but only such as had distin- 
 guished themselves particularly in the field. 
 
 t He received with pleasure such strangers as 
 came and submitted to his laws, and assigned them 
 shares of land, which they could not alienate. In- 
 deed, the lots of all the citizens were unalienable. 
 
 X Xenophon, who was an eye-witness, imputes 
 the changes in the Spartan discipline to foreign 
 manners. But in fact they had a deeper root. 
 When the Lacedaemonians, instead of keeping to 
 their lawgiver’s injunction, only to defend their 
 own country, and to make no conquests, carried 
 their victorious arms over all Greece and into 
 Asia itself, then foreign gold and foreign manners 
 came into Sparta, corrupted the simplicity of his 
 institutions, and at last overturned that republic. 
 
 new opinions ; and from these there necessarily 
 spring new passions and desires, which, like dis- 
 cords in music, would disturb the established 
 government. He, therefore, thought it more 
 expedient for the city, to keep out of it corrupt 
 customs and manners, than even to prevent the 
 introduction of a pestilence. 
 
 Thus far, then, we can perceive nO vestiges of a 
 disregard to right and wrong, which is the fault 
 some people find with the laws of Lycurgus, 
 allowing them well enough calculated to produce 
 valour, but not to promote justice. Perhaps it 
 was the Cryptia * as they called it, ox ambtiscade^ 
 if that was really one of this lawgiver’s institutions, 
 as Aristotle says it was, which gave Plato so bad 
 an impression both of Lycurgus and his laws. 
 The governors of the youth ordered the shrewdest 
 of them from time to time to disperse themselves 
 in the copntry, provided only with daggers and 
 some necessary provisions. In the day-time they 
 hid themselves, and rested in the most private 
 places they could find, but at night they sallied 
 out into the roads, and killed all the H dotes they 
 could meet with. Nay, sometimes by day, they 
 fell upon them in the fields, and murdered the 
 ablest and strongest of them. Thucydides relates 
 in his history of the Peloponnesian war, that the 
 Spartans selected such of them as were distin- 
 guished for their courage, to the number of sc^o 
 or more, declared them free, crowned them with 
 garlands, and conducted them to the temples of 
 the gods ; but soon after they all disappeared ; 
 and no one could, either then or since, give 
 account in what manner they were destroj’^ed. 
 Aristotle particularly says, that the ephori, as 
 soon as they were invested in their office, declared 
 war against the Helotes, that they might be 
 
 * The cruelty of the Lacedaemonians towards 
 the Helotes, is frequently spoken of, and generally 
 decried by all authors ; though Plutarch, who was 
 a great admirer of the Spartans, endeavours to 
 palliate it as much as may be. These poor 
 wretches were marked out for slaves in their 
 dress, their gesture, and, in short, in everything. 
 They wore dog-skin bonnets and sheep-skin vests ; 
 they were forbidden to learn any liberal art, or to 
 perform any act worthy of their masters. _ Once a 
 day they received a certain number of stripes, .for 
 fear they should forget they were slaves : and, 
 to crown all, they were liable to this cryptia, 
 which was sure to be executed on all such as 
 spoke, looked, or walked like freemen; a cruel 
 and unnecessary expedient, and unworthy of a 
 virtuous people. The ephori, indeed, declared 
 war against them. Against whom? why, against 
 poor naked slaves, who tilled their lands, dressed 
 their food, and did all those offices for them 
 which they were too proud to do for themselves. 
 Plutarch, according to custom, endeavours to 
 place all this cruelty far lower than the times of 
 Lycurgus ; and alleges that it was introduced on 
 account of the Helotes\o\vivs\% with the Messenians 
 after a terrible earthquake, that happened about 
 467 years before the birth of Christ, whereby a 
 great part of Lacedaemon was overthrown, and in 
 which above 20,000 Spartans perished. But 
 ./Elian tells us expressly (Hist. Var. 1 . iii.) that 
 it was the common opinion in Greece, that this 
 very earthquake was a judgment from heaven 
 upon the Spartans for treating those Helotes^x-Co. 
 such inhumanity. 
 
LYCURGUS. 43 
 
 massacred under pretence of law. In other re- 
 spects they treated them with great inhu- 
 manity : sometimes they made them drink till 
 they were intoxicated, and in that condition led 
 them into the public halls, to show the young 
 men what drunkenness was. They ordered them, 
 too, to sing mean songs, and to dance ridiculous 
 dances, but not to meddle with any that were 
 genteel and graceful. Thus they tell us, that 
 when the Thebans afterwards invaded Laconia, 
 and took a great number of the Helotes prisoners, 
 they ordered them to sing the odes of Terpander, 
 'Aleman, or Spendon the Lacedaemonian, but 
 they excused themselves, alleging that it was 
 forbidden by their masters. Those who say, that 
 a freeman in Sparta was most a freeman, and a 
 slave most a slave, seem well to have considered 
 the difference of states. But in my opinion, it 
 was in aftertimes that these cruelties took place 
 among the Lacedaemonians ; chiefly after the 
 great earthquake, when, as history informs us, 
 the Helotes, joining the Messenians, attacked 
 them, did infinite damage to the country, and 
 brought the city to the greatest extremity. I can 
 never ascribe to Lycurgus so abominable an act 
 as that of the ambuscade. I would judge in this 
 case by the mildness and justice which appeared 
 in the rest of his conduct, to which also the gods 
 gave their sanction. 
 
 When his principal institutions had taken root 
 in the manners of the people, and the government 
 was come to such maturity as to be able to sup- 
 port and preserve itself, then, as Plato says of 
 the Deity, that he rejoiced when he had created 
 the world, and given it its first motion ; so 
 Lycurgus was charmed with the beauty and 
 greatness of his political establishment, when he 
 saw it exemplified in fact, and move on in due 
 order. He was next desirous to make it im- 
 mortal, so far as human wisdom could effect it, 
 and to deliver it down unchanged to the latest 
 times. For this purpose he assembled all the 
 people, and told them, the provisions he had 
 already made for the state were indeed sufficient 
 for virtue and happiness, but the greatest and 
 most important matter was still behind, which he 
 could not disclose to them till he had consulted 
 the oracle ; that they' must therefore inviolably 
 observe his laws, without altering anything in 
 them, till he returned from Delphi ; and then he 
 would acquaint them with the pleasure of Apollo. 
 \Vhen they had all promised to do so, and desired 
 him to set forward, he took an oath of the kings 
 and senators, and afterwards of all the citizens, 
 that they would abide by the present establishment 
 till Lycurgus came back. He then took his 
 journey to Delphi. 
 
 When he arrived there, he offered sacrifice to 
 the gods, and consulted the oracle, whether his 
 laws were sufficient to promote virtue, and se- 
 cure the happiness of the state. Apollo answered, 
 that the laws were excellent, and that the city 
 which kept to the constitution he had established, 
 would be the most glorious in the world. This 
 oracle Lycurgus took down in writing, and sent 
 it to Sparta. He then offered another sacrifice, 
 and embraced his friends and his son, determined 
 never to release his citizens from their oath, but 
 voluntarily there to put a period to his life ; * 
 
 while he was yet of an age when life was not a 
 burden, when death was not desirable, and while 
 he was not unhappy in any one circumstance. 
 He, therefore, destroyed himself by abstaining 
 from food, persuaded that the very death of law- 
 givers should have its use, and their exit, so far 
 from being insignificant, have its share of virtue, 
 and be considered as a great action. To him, 
 indeed, whose performances were so illustrious., 
 the conclusion of life was the crown of happiness, 
 and his death was left guardian of those invalu- 
 able blessings he had procured his countrymen 
 through life, as they had taken an oath not to 
 depart from his establishment till his return. Nor 
 was _ he deceived in his expectations. Sparta 
 continued superior to the rest of Greece, both in 
 its government at home and reputation abroad, so 
 long as it retained the institution of Lycurgus : 
 and this it did during the space of 500 years, and 
 the^ reign of fourteen successive kings, down to 
 Agis the son of Archidamus. As for the appoint- 
 ment of the ephori, it v/as so far from weakening 
 the constitution, that it gave it additional vigour, 
 and though it seemed to be established in favour 
 of the people, it strengthened the aristocracy.* 
 But in the reign of Agis, money found its way 
 into Sparta, and with^ money came its insepar- 
 able attendant — avarice. This was by means of 
 Lysander ; who, though himself incapable of 
 being corrupted by money, filled his country with 
 the love of it, and with luxury too. He brought 
 both gold and silver from the wars,-}* and thereby 
 broke through the laws of Lycurgus, While 
 these were in force, Sparta was not so much 
 under the political regulations of a common- 
 wealth, as the strict rules of a philosophic life : 
 and as the poets feign of Hercules, that only with 
 a club and lion’s skin he travelled over the world, 
 clearing it of lawless ruffians and cruel tyrants ; 
 so the Lacedaemonians with a piece of % parch- 
 
 * After all this pompous account, Plutarch 
 himself acknowledges, that authors are not well 
 agreed, how and where this great man died. 
 That he starved himself is improbable ; but that 
 he returned no more to his country, seems to be 
 perfectly agreeable to his manner of acting, as 
 well as to the current of history. 
 
 t Xenophon acquaints us, that when Lysander 
 had taken Athens, he sent to Sparta many rich 
 spoils, and 470 talents of silver. The coming of 
 this huge mass of wealth created great disputes 
 at Sparta. Many celebrated Lysander’s praises, 
 and rejoiced exceedingly at this good fortune, as 
 they called it ; others, who were better acquainted 
 with the nature of things, and with their con- 
 stitution, were of quite another opinion : they 
 looked^ upon the receipt of this treasure as an 
 open violation of the laws of Lycurgus ; and they 
 expressed their apprehensions loudly, that, in 
 process of time, they might, by a change in their 
 manners, pay infinitely more for this money 
 than it was worth. The event justified their 
 fears. 
 
 t This was the scytale, the nature and use of 
 which Plutarch explains in the life of Lysander. 
 He tells us, that when the magistrates gave their 
 commission to any admiral or general, they took 
 two round pieces of wood, both exactly equal in 
 breadth and thickness (Thucydides adds, that 
 they were smooth and long) : one they kept 
 themselves, the other was delivered to their 
 
 * Lucian says that Lycurgus died at the 
 
 age of eighty-five. 
 
PLUTARCirS LIVES, 
 
 44 
 
 inent and coarse coat kept Greece in a voluntary 
 obedience, destroyed usurpation and tyranny in 
 the states, put an end to wars, and laid seditions 
 asleep, very often without either shield or lance, 
 and only by sending one ambassador ; to whose 
 directions all parties concerned immediately sub- 
 mitted. Thus bees, when their prince appears, 
 compose their quarrels and unite in one swarm. 
 So much did justice and good government prevail 
 in that state, that I am surprised at those who 
 say, the Lacedsemonians knew indeed how to 
 obey, but not how to govern ; and on this occasion 
 quote the sa3”ing of king Theopompus, who, when 
 one told him, that Sparta was preserved by the 
 good administration of its kings, replied, “Nay, 
 rather by the obedience of their subjects.” It is 
 certain that people will not continue pliant to 
 those who know not how to command ; but it is 
 the part of a good governor to teach obedience. 
 He who knows howto lead well, is sure to be well 
 followed : and as it is by the art of horsemanship 
 that a horse is made gentle and tractable, so it is 
 by the abilities of him that fills the throne that 
 the people become ductile and submissive. Such 
 was the conduct of the Lacedaemonians, that 
 people did not onlj^' endure, but even desired 
 to be their subjects. They asked not of them, 
 either ships, mone^'-, or troops, but only a Spartan 
 general. ^ When they had received him, they 
 treated him with the greatest honour and respect : 
 so Gylippus was revered by the Sicilians, Brasidas 
 by the Chalcidians, Lysander, Callicratidas and 
 Agesilaus by all the people of Asia. These, and 
 such as these, wherever they came, were called 
 moderators and reformers, both of the magistrates 
 and people, and Sparta itself was considered as a 
 school of discipline, where the beauty of life and 
 political order were taught in the utmost per- 
 fection. Hence Stratonicus seems facetiously 
 enough to have said, that he would order the 
 Athenians to have the conduct of mysteries and 
 processions ; the Eleans to preside in games, as 
 their particular province ; and the Lacedaemonians 
 to be beaten, if the other did amiss.* * This was 
 spoken in jest : but Antisthenes, one of the 
 scholars of Socrates, said (more seriously) of the 
 Thebans, when he saw them pluming themselves 
 upon their success at Leuctra, they were just 
 like so many school-boys rejoicing that they had 
 beaten their master. 
 
 It was not, however, the principal design of 
 
 officer. WTien they had anything of moment, 
 which they would secretly convey to him, they 
 cut a long narrow scroll of parchment, and rolling 
 it about their own staff, one fold close upon 
 another, they wrote their business on it : when 
 they had written what they had to say, the^’- took 
 off the parchment, and sent it to the general ; and 
 he applying it to his own staff, the characters 
 which before were confused and unintelligible, 
 appeared then very plainly. 
 
 * Because the teachers should be answerable 
 for the faults of their pupils. The pleasantry of 
 the observation seems to be this: that as the 
 Lacedaemonians used to punish the parents or 
 adopters of those >"oung people that behaved 
 amiss; now that they were the instructors of 
 other nations, they should suffer for their faults. 
 Biyan s Latin text has it, that the Lacedae- 
 monians should beat themi but there is no joke 
 m that. 
 
 Lycurgus, that his city should govern many 
 others, but he considered his ha/>/>i'ness, like that 
 of a private man, as flowing from virtue and self- 
 consistency ; he therefore so ordered and disposed 
 it, that by the freedom and sobriety of its in- 
 habitants, and their_ having a sufficiency within 
 themselves, its continuance might be the more 
 secure. Plato, Diogenes, Zeno, and other writers 
 upon government, have taken Lycurgus for their 
 model ; and these have attained great praise, 
 though they left only an idea of something 
 excellent. Yet he, who, not in idea and in words, 
 but in fact produced a most inimitable form of 
 government, and by showing a whole city of 
 philosophers,* confounded those who imagine 
 that the so much talked of strictness of a philo- 
 sophic life is impracticable ; he, I say, stands in 
 the rank of gloi^ far beyond the founders of all 
 the other Grecian states.! Therefore Aristotle 
 is of opinion, that the honours paid him in 
 Lacedaemon were far beneath his merit. Yet 
 those honours were very great; for he has a 
 temple there, and they offer him a yearly sacrifice, 
 as a god. It is also said, that when his remains 
 were brought home, his tomb was struck with 
 lightning : a seal of divinity which no other man, 
 however eminent, has had, except Euripides, who 
 died and was buried at Arethusa in IMacedonia. 
 This was matter of great satisfaction and triumph 
 to the friends of Euripides, that the same thing 
 should befall him after death, which had formerly 
 happened to the most venerable of men, and the 
 most favoured of heaven. Some say, Lycurgus 
 died at Cirrha ; but Apollothemis will have it, 
 that he was brought to Elis, and died there ; and 
 Timseus, and Aristoxenus write, that he ended 
 his daj^s in Crete; nay, Aristoxenus adds, that 
 the Cretans show his tomb at Pergamia, near the 
 high road. _ We are told, he left an only son 
 named Antiorus : and' as he died without issue, 
 the family was extinct. His friends and relations 
 observed his anniversary, which subsisted for 
 many ages, and the days on which they met for 
 that purpose they called Lycurgidce. Aristocrates, 
 the son of Hipparchus, relates, that the friends of 
 Lycurgus, with whom he sojourned, and at last 
 died in Crete, burned his body, and, at his request 
 threw his ashes into the sea. Thus he guarded 
 against the possibility of his remains being 
 brought back to Sparta by the Lacedaemonians, 
 lest they should then think themselves released 
 from their oath, on the pretence that he was 
 returned, and make innovations in the govern- 
 ment. This is what he had to say of Lycurgus. 
 
 * Aristotle and Plato differ in this from Plutarch. 
 Even Polybius, who was so great an admirer of 
 the Spartan government, allows, that, though the 
 Spartans, considered as individuals, were wise 
 and virtuous, yet in their collective capacity they 
 paid but little regard to justice and moderation. 
 
 t Solon, though a person of a different temper, 
 was no less disinterested than Ljmurgus. He 
 settled, the Athenian commonwealth, refused the 
 sovereignty when offered him, travelled to avoid 
 the importunities of his countr^^men, opposed 
 tyranny in his old age, and when he found his 
 opposition vain, went into voluntary exile. Ly- 
 curgus and Solon were both great men ; but the 
 former had the stronger, the latter the milder 
 genius ; the effects of which appeared in the 
 commonwealths they founded. 
 
( 45 ) 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 There is likewise a great diversity amongst his- 
 torians about the time in which king Numa lived, 
 though some families seem to trace their genealogy 
 up to him with sufficient accuracy. However, a 
 certain writer called Clodius, in his emendations of 
 chronology, affirms, that the ancient archives were 
 destroyed when Rome was sacked by the Gauls ; 
 and that those which are now shown as such, were 
 forged in favour of some persons who wanted to 
 stretch their lineage far back, and to deduce it 
 from the most illustrious houses. Some say, that 
 Numa was the scholar of Pythagoras ; * but others 
 contend, that he was unacquainted with the 
 Grecian literature, either alleging, that his own 
 genius was sufficient to conduct him to excellence, 
 or that he was instructed by some barbarmn 
 philosopher superior to Pythagoras. Some, again, 
 affirm, that Pythagoras of Samos flourished about 
 five generations below the time of Numa : but 
 that Pythagoras the Spartan, who won the prize 
 at the Olympic race in the sixteenth Olympiad 
 (about the third year of which it was that Numa 
 came to the throne), travelling into Italy, became 
 acquainted with that prince, and assisted him in 
 regulating the government. Hence many Spartan 
 customs, taught by Pythagoras, were intermixed 
 with the Roman. But this mixture might have 
 another cause, as Numa v/as of Sabine extraction, 
 and the Sabines declared themselves to have been 
 a Lacedsemonian colony, f It is difficult, how- 
 ever, to adjust the times exactly, particularly 
 those that are only distinguished with the names 
 of the Olympic conquerors ; of which we are told, 
 Hippias, the Elean, made a collection at a late 
 period, without sufficient vouchers. We shall now 
 relate what we have met with most remarkable 
 concerning Numa, beginning from that point of 
 time which is most suitable to our purpose. 
 
 It was in the thirty-seventh year from the build- 
 ing of Rome, and of the reign of Romulus, on the 
 seventh of the month of July (which day is now 
 called Nonce Caprotinc^ when that prince went 
 out of the city to offer a solemn sacrifice at a place 
 called the Goats-Marsh, in the presence of the 
 senate and great part of the people. Suddenly 
 there happened a great alteration in the air, and 
 the clouds burst in a storm of wind and hail. The 
 rest of the assembly were struck with terror and 
 
 * Pythagoras the philosopher went not into 
 Italy till the reign of the elder Tarquin, which 
 was in the fifty-first Olympiad, and four genera- 
 tions (as Dionysius of Halicarnassus tells us) after 
 Numa. 
 
 t The same Dionysius informs us, that he found 
 in the history of the Sabines, that, while Lycurgus 
 was guardian to his nephew Euromus (Charilaus 
 it should be), some of the Lacedaemonians, unable 
 to endure the severity of his laws, fled into Italy, 
 and settled first at Pometia ; from whence several 
 of them removed into the country of the Sabines, 
 and, uniting with that people, taught them their 
 customs ; particularly those relating to the con- 
 duct of war, to fortitude, patience, and a frugal 
 and abstemious manner of living. This colony, 
 then, settled in Italy 120 years before the birth of 
 Numa. 
 
 fled, but Romulus disappeared, and could not be 
 found either alive or dead. Upon this, the senators 
 fell under a violent suspicion, and a report was 
 propagated against them among the people, that 
 having long been weary of the yoke of kingly 
 government, and desirous to get the power into 
 their own hands, they had murdered the king. 
 Particularly as he had treated them for some time 
 in an arbitrary and imperious manner. But they 
 found means to obviate this suspicion, by pajfing 
 divine honours to Romulus as a person that had 
 been privileged from the fate of other mortals, 
 and was only removed to a happier scene. More- 
 over, Proculus, a man of high rank, made oath 
 that he saw Romulus carried up to heaven in 
 complete armour, and heard a voice commanding 
 that he should be called Qtdrinus. 
 
 Fresh disturbances and tumults arose in the 
 city about the election of a new king, the later 
 inhabitants being not yet thoroughly incorporated 
 with the first, the commonalty fluctuating and 
 unsettled in itself, and the patricians full of 
 animosity and jealousies of each other. All, in- 
 deed, agreed that a king should be appointed, 
 but they differed and debated, not only about the 
 person to be fixed upon, but from which of the 
 two nations he should be elected. For neither 
 could they who with Romulus built the city, 
 endure that the Sabines who had been admitted 
 citizens, and obtained a share of the lands, should 
 attempt to command those from whom they had 
 received such privileges ; nor yet could the Sabines 
 depart froni their claim of giving a king in their 
 turn to Rome, having this good argument in their 
 favour, that, upon the death of Tatius, they had 
 suffered Romulus peaceably to enjoy the throne, 
 without a colleague. It was also to be considered, 
 that they did not come as inferiors to join a superior 
 people, but by their rank and number added 
 strength and dignity to the city that received 
 them. These were the arguments on which they 
 founded their claims. Lest this dispute should 
 produce an utter confusion, whilst there was no 
 king, nor any steersman at the helm, the senators 
 made an order that the 150 members who com- 
 posed their body,* should each, in their turns, be 
 attired in the robes of state ; in the room of 
 Qtdrinus, offer the stated sacrifices to the gods, 
 and despatch the whole public business, six hours 
 in the day, and six hours at night. This distribu- 
 tion of time seemed well contrived, in point of 
 
 * According to our author in the life of Ro- 
 mulus, the number of the senators was 200. In- 
 deed, Dionysius says, that writers differed in this 
 particular, some affirming, that 100 senators were 
 added to the original number upon the union of 
 the Sabines with the Romans ; and others, that 
 only fifty were added. Livy gives the most pro- 
 bable account of the manner of the Interregnum. 
 The senators, he says, divided themselves into 
 decuries or tens. These decuries drew lots which 
 should govern first ; and the decury, to whose 
 lot it fell, enjoyed the supreme authority for five 
 days; yet, in such a manner, that one person 
 only of the governing decury had the ensigns of 
 sovereignty at a time. 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 equality amongst the regents, and the change of 
 power from hand to hand prevented its being 
 obnoxious to the people, who saw the same person 
 in one day and one night reduced from a king to 
 a private man. This occasional administration 
 the Romans call an Interregnum. 
 
 But though the matter was managed in this 
 moderate and popular way, the senators could 
 not escape the suspicions and complaints of the 
 people, that they were changing the government 
 into an oligarchy, and, as they had the direction 
 of all affairs in their hands, were unwilling to 
 have a king. At last it was agreed between the 
 tw’o parties, that one nation should choose a king 
 out of the whole body of the other. This was 
 considered as the best means of putting a stop to 
 the present contention, and of inspiring the king 
 with an affection for both parties, since he would 
 be gracious to these, because they had elected 
 him, and to those as his kindred and countryrnen. 
 The Sabines leaving the Romans to their option, 
 they preferred a Sabine king of their own elect- 
 ing, to a Roman chosen by the Sabines. Con- 
 sulting, therefore, among themselves,* they fixed 
 upon Numa Pompilius, a Sabine, who was not of 
 the number of those that had migrated to Rome, 
 but so celebrated for virtue, that the Sabines re- 
 ceived the nomination even with greater applause 
 than the Romans themselves. When they had 
 acquainted the people with their resolution, they 
 sent the most eminent personages of both nations 
 ambassadors, to entreat him to come and take 
 upon him the government. 
 
 Numa was of Cures, a considerable city of the 
 Sabines, from which the Romans, together with 
 the incorporated Sabines, took the name_ of 
 Quiritcs. He was the son of a person of distinc- 
 tion named Pomponius, and the youngest of four 
 brothers. It seemed to be by the direction of the 
 gods, that he was born the twenty-first of April, 
 the same day that Rome was founded by Romulus. 
 His mind was naturally disposed to virtue ; and 
 he still farther subdued it by discipline, patience, 
 and philosophy; not only purging it of the grosser 
 and more infamous passions, but even of that 
 ambition and rapaciousness which was reckoned 
 honourable amongst the barbarians; persuaded 
 that true fortitude consists in the conquest of 
 appetites by reason. On this account he banished 
 all luxury and splendour from his house and 
 l^th the citizens and strangers found in him a 
 faithful counsellor, and an upright judge. As 
 for his hours of leisure, he spent them not in the 
 pursuits of pleasure, or schemes of profit, but in 
 the worship of the gods, and in rational inquiries 
 into their nature and their power. His name be- 
 came at length so illustrious, that Tatius, who 
 was the associate of Romulus in the kingdom, 
 having an only daughter named Tatia, bestowed 
 her upon him. He was not, however, so much 
 elated with this match as to remove to the court 
 of his father-in-law, but continued in the country 
 of the Sabines, paying his attentions to his own 
 
 * The interrex, for the time being, having 
 summoned the people, addressed them thus : 
 “ Romans, elect yourselves a king ; the senate 
 give their consent : and, if you choose a prince 
 worthy to succeed Romulus, the senate will con- 
 firm your choice." The people were so well 
 pleased with this condescension of the senate, that 
 they remitted the choice to them. 
 
 father, who was now grown old. Tatia was par- 
 taker of his retirement, and preferred the calm 
 enjoyment of life with her husband in privacy, to 
 the honours and distinction in which she might 
 have lived with her father at Rome. Thirteen 
 years after their marriage she died. 
 
 Numa then left the society of the city, and 
 passed his time in wandering about alone in the 
 sacred groves and lawns, in the most retired and 
 solitary places. Hence the report concerning 
 the goddess Egeria chiefly took its rise ; * and it 
 was believed it was not from any inward sorrow 
 or melancholy turn that he avoided human con- 
 versation, but from his being admitted to that 
 which was more venerable and excellent, from 
 the honour he had of a familiar intercourse with 
 a divinity that loved him, which led him to 
 happiness and knowledge more than mortal. It 
 is obvious ' enough, how much this resembles 
 many of the ancient stories received and delivered 
 down by the Phrygians of Atys,*}" the Bythenians 
 of Herodotus, and the Arcadians of Endymion : 
 to whom might be added many others, who were 
 thought to have attained to superior felicity, and 
 to be beloved in an extraordinary manner by the 
 gods. And, indeed, it is rational enough to sup- 
 pose, that the deity would not place his affection 
 upon horses or birds, but rather upon human 
 beings, eminently distinguished by virtue ; and 
 that^he neither dislikes nor disdains to_ hold con- 
 versation with a man of wisdom and piety. But 
 that a divinity should be captivated with the 
 external beauty of any human body is irrational 
 to believe. The Egyptians, indeed, make a dis- 
 tinction in this case, which they think not an 
 absurd one, that it is not impossible for a woman 
 to be impregnated by the approach of some divine 
 spirit; but that a man can have no corporeal 
 intercourse with a goddess. But they do not, 
 however, consider that a mixture, be it of what 
 sort it may, equally communicates its being. In 
 short, the regard which the gods have for men, 
 though, like a human passion, it be called love, 
 musr be employed in forming their manners, 
 and raising them to higher degrees of virtue. In 
 this sense we may admit the assertion of the 
 poets, that Phorbas,!: Hyacinthus, and Admetus, 
 
 * Numa’s inclination to solitude, and his cus- 
 tom of retiring into the secret places of the forest 
 of Aricia, gave rise to several popular opinions. 
 Some believed that the nymph Egeria herself 
 dictated to him the laws, both civil and religious, 
 which he established. And, indeed, he declared 
 so himself, in order to procure a divine sanction 
 to them. But, as no great man is without asper- 
 sions, others have thought, that under this affected 
 passion for woods and caves, was concealed 
 another more real and less chaste. This gave 
 occasion to that sarcasm of Juvenal, in speaking 
 of the grove of Egeria (Sat. iii. ver. 12) : 
 
 Hie ubi nocturnse Numse constituebat araicse. 
 
 Ovid says, that to remove her grief for the loss of 
 Numa, Diana changed her into a fountain which 
 still bears her name. Metam. 1 . xv. 
 
 t Atys was said to be beloved by the goddess 
 Cybele, and Endymion by Diana ; but we believe 
 there is nowhere else any mention made of this 
 Herodotus, or Rhodotus, as Dacier from his 
 manuscript calls him. 
 
 t Phorbas was the son of Triopas, king of 
 
NUMA, 
 
 were beloved by Apollo ; and that Hippolytus, 
 the Sicyonian, was equally in his favour ; so that 
 whenever he sailed from Cirrha to Sicyon, the 
 priestess, to signify Apollo’s satisfaction, repeated 
 this heroic verse : 
 
 He comes, again the much-loved hero comes. 
 
 ^ 
 
 gus, Numa, and ether great men, finding their 
 people difficult to manage, and alterations to be 
 made in their several governments, pretended 
 commissions from heaven which were salutary, 
 at least to those for whom they were invented. 
 
 Numa was now in his fortieth year, when 
 ambassadors came from Rome to make him an 
 
 It is also fabled, that Pan was in love with Pindar* j offer of the kingdom. The speakers were Procu- 
 on account of his poetry ; and that Archilochus lus and Velesus, whom the peojjle before had cast 
 and Hesiod,t after their death, were honoured their eyes upon for the royal dignity, the Romans 
 by the heavenly powers for the same reason. ; being attached to Proculus, and the Sabines to 
 Sophocles, too (as the story goes), was blessed in ; Velesus. As they imagined that Numa would 
 his lifetime with the conversation of the god i gladly embrace his good fortune, they made but 
 ^sculapius, of which many jjroofs still remain ; | a short speech. They found it, however, no easy 
 and another deity procured him burial, t Now, matter to persuade him, but were obliged to make 
 If we admit that these were so highly favoured, : use of much entreaty to draw him from that 
 shall we deiw that Zaleucus,§ Minos, Zoroaster, peaceful retreat he was so fond of, to the govem- 
 Numa, and Lycurgus, kings and lawgivers, were . ment of a city bom, as it were, and brought up 
 happy in the same respect ? Nay, rather, we j in v/ar. In the presence, therefore, of his father, 
 sh^ll think, that the gods might seriously converse | and one of his kinsmen, named Marcius, he gave 
 with such excellent persons 2& these, to instruct them this answer : “ Every change of human life 
 and encourage them in their great attempts ; | has its dangers ; but when a man has a sufficiency 
 v/hereas, if they indulged poets and musicians in for everything, and there is nothing in his pre- 
 the same grace, it must be by way of diversion, sent situation to be complained of, what but mad- 
 To such as are of another opinion, I shall say, ! ness can lead him from his usual track of life, 
 however, with Bacchylides, “The way is broad.” j which, if it has no other advantage, has that of 
 For it is no unplausible account of the matter certainty, to experience another as yet doubtful 
 which others give, when they tell us, that Lycur- [ and unknown ? But the dangers that attend his 
 
 — , government are beyond an uncertainty, if we may 
 
 Argos. He debvered the Rhodians from a pro- - * ’ /• .1 /• . 
 
 digious number of serpents that infested their 
 island, and particularly from one furious dragon 
 that had devoured a great many people. He 
 
 form a judgment from the fortunes of Romulus, 
 who laboured under the suspicion of taking off 
 Tatius, his colleague, and v/as supposed to have 
 , * ^ lost his own life with equal injustice. Yet Ro- 
 
 was, therefore, supposed to be dear to Apollo, : mulus is celebrated as a person of divine origin, 
 v/ho had slain the Python. After his death he ■ as supematurally nourished, when an infant, and 
 
 was placed in the heavens, with the dragon he 
 had destroyed, in the constellation Ophiucus or 
 S urpen tarius. 
 
 Hyacinthus was the son of Amyclas, founder of 
 
 most wonderfully preserved. For my part, I 
 am only of mortal race, and you are sensible my 
 nursing and education boast of nothing extraordi- 
 nary. As for my character, if it has any distinc- 
 
 the city of Amyclas, near Sparta. He v/as be- ; tion, it has been gained in a way not likely to 
 loved by Apollo and Zephyrus, and was killed in quadify me for a king, in scenes of repose and 
 a fit of jealousy by the latter, who, with a puff of j ernployments by no means arduous. My genius 
 
 wind, <mused a quoit thrown by Apollo to fall 
 upon his head. He was changed into a flower 
 which bears his name. Vide Pausan. de La- 
 cofiic. 1 . iii., and Ovid, Metam, 1 , x. fab. 5. 
 
 Admetus was the son of Pheres, king of Thes- 
 saly. It is said that Apollo kept his .sheep. 
 
 ♦ Pindar had a particular devotion for the 
 god Pan, and therefore took up his abode near 
 the temple of Rhea and Pan. He composed the 
 
 -A ! .1 
 
 is inclined to peace, my love has long been fixed 
 upon it, and I have studiously avoided the con- 
 fusion of war ; I have also drawn others, so far 
 as my influence extended, to the worship of the 
 gods, to mutual offices of friendship, and to spend 
 the rest of their time in tilling the ground, and 
 feeding cattle. The Romans may have unavoid- 
 able wars left upon their hands by their late king, 
 for the maintaining of which you have need of 
 
 hymns which the Theban virgins sung on the ’ another more active and more enterprising. Be- 
 festiyal of that deity and, it is_ said, he had j sides, the people are of a warlike disposition. 
 
 the happiness to hear Pan himself singing one of 
 his odes. 
 
 t Archilochus was slain by a soldier of Naxos, 
 who was obliged by the priestess of Apollo to 
 make expiation for having killed a man conse- 
 crated to the muses.— As for Hesiod, the Orcho- 
 menians, a people of Bceotia, being terribly 
 afflicted by a plague, were ordered by the oracle 
 to remove the bones of that poet, from Naupac- 
 tus in ZEtolia, into their country. 
 
 + Sophocles died at Athens, while Lysander 
 was carrying on the siege of the city ; and 
 Bacchus is said to have appeared to the Spartan 
 general in a dream, and ordered him to permit 
 the new Athenian Syren to be buried at Decelea. 
 
 § Zaleucus gave laws to the Lorcians in Magna 
 Grsecia ; Zoroaster, one of the ma^i, and king of 
 the Bactrians, to his own subjects: and Minos 
 to the people of Crete. 
 
 spirited with success, and plainly enough discover 
 their inclination to extend their conquests. Of 
 course, therefore, a person who has set his heart 
 upon the promoting of religion and justice, and 
 drawing men off from the love of violence and 
 war, would soon become ridiculous and con- 
 temptible to a city that has more occasion for a 
 general than a king.” 
 
 Numa, in this manner declining the crown, the 
 Romans, on the other hand, exerted all their 
 endeavours to obviate his objections, and begged 
 of him not to throw them into confusion and civil 
 v/ar again, as there was no other whom both 
 parties would unanimously elect. When the am- 
 bassadors had retired, his father and his friend 
 Marcius privately urged him, by all the arguments 
 in their power, to receive this great and valuable 
 gift of heaven. “ If contented," said they, “ with 
 a competence, you desire not riches, nor aspire 
 

 O PLUTARCH’S LIVES. ' 
 
 -ifter the honour of sovereignty, having a higher t 
 and better distinction in virtue ; “ { 
 
 a king is the minister of God, tvho now "f J 
 
 and puts in action your native wisdom and c 
 iustice. Decline not, therefore, an authority, I 
 wh * to a wise man is a field for great and good 1 
 actions ; where dignity may be added to re «.on i 
 and men may be brought over to P'oty, in the 
 easiest and readiest way, by the ^ j j 
 
 prince. Tatius, though a stranger, . , 
 
 by this people, and they pay divine honours to . 
 the memory of Romulus. Besides, , 
 
 as they are victorious, but they may be satiate 
 with war, and having no farther wish for ^riump 
 and spoils, may be desirous of a mild and just 
 governor for the establishing of 
 the settling of peace? But should ^ey be ever 
 so ardently inclined to war yet is it not better 
 to turn their violence another way, and to be 
 the centre of union and friendship t>etween the 
 country of the Sabines, and so great and hpu^rish- 
 tn- a Itate as that of Rome?" These induce- 
 mSnts, we are told, were strengthened by auspi- 
 cious omens, and by the zeal and ^ 
 
 fellow-citizens, who as soon as they ^^^d learned 
 the subject of the embassy, went in a body to en 
 treat him to take the government upon him as 
 the only means to appease all dissensions and 
 effectually incorporate the two nations into one 
 When he had determined to go, he offered 
 sacrifice to the gods and then set forward to 
 Rome. Struck with love and admiration of the 
 man, the senate and people met him on tue way , 
 the women welcomed him with blessings and 
 shouts of joy; the temples were crowded with 
 sacrifices ; and so universal v/ as the satisfaction, 
 that the city might seem to have ^^cmv^ a 
 kingdom, instead of a king. , When they were 
 come into the Fortim, Spurius Vettius, whose 
 turn it then was to be Interrex^ put it to the 
 vote, whether Numa should be king, and all the 
 citizens agreed to it with one voice. 
 and other distinctions of royalty then were offered 
 him, but he commanded them to stop, as his 
 authority yet wanted the sanction of heaven. 
 Taking therefore with him the priests and att-gurs, 
 he went up to the Capitol, which the Romans a 
 that time called the Tarpemn rock. JW tbj 
 chief of the augurs covered the head of ^uma 
 and turned his face towards the south ; then 
 standing behind him, and laying his right hand 
 upon his head, he offered up his devotions and 
 looked around him, in hopes of seeing^ birds or 
 some other signal from the gods. An incredib 
 silence reigned among the people anxious for the 
 event, and lost in suspense, till the auspicious 
 birds appeared and passed on the right hand. 
 Then Numa took the royal robe, and went down 
 from the mount to the people, who received him 
 with loud acclamations, as the most pious of men, 
 and most beloved of the gods. 
 
 His first act of government was to discharge 
 the body of 300 men, called Celeres,\ whoir 
 
 lomulus always kept about his person as £^ards , 
 or he neither chose to distrust those who put a 
 :onfidence in him, nor to reign over a People that 
 :ould distrust him. In the next place, to the 
 iriests of Jupiter and Mars he added one for 
 Romulus, whom he styled Fla77ton 
 marnines was a common name for priests betore 
 kat time, and it is said to. have been corrup ed 
 Tom Pilammes, a term derived from Pilot, which 
 ,n Greek signifies (for they wore, it seems, 
 
 a kind of caps or hoods ;) and the Latin language 
 had many ^re Greek words mixed « then 
 
 than it has at this time. Thus royal, mantles 
 were by the Romans called Kcen^. which Juba 
 assures us was from the Greek and the 
 
 name of CamillusA given to the youth who served 
 in the temple of Jupiter, and who was. to have 
 both his parents alive, was the same which some 
 of the Greeks give to Mercury, on account of his 
 being aii attendant of that god. 
 
 Numa having settled these matters with a view 
 to establish himself in the people s gooci graces 
 immediately after attempted to soften them, as 
 iron is softened by fire, and. to bring them froin a 
 violent and warlike disposition, to a juster and 
 more gentle temper. For, if any city ever was 
 “ in a state of inflammation,” as Plato expresses it, 
 Rome certainly was, being composed at first ol 
 the most hardy aiM resolute men, whom boldne^ 
 and despair had driven thither from all quarters 
 nourished and grown up to P°w^ by a series of 
 wars, and strengthened even by blows anci con- 
 flicts, as piles fixed in the ground become firmer 
 under the strokes of the rammer. Persuaded that 
 no ordinary means were sufficient to form and 
 reduce so high-spirited and untractable a. people 
 to mildness and peace, he called in the assistance 
 of religion. By sacrifices, religious dances, and 
 processions, which he appointed, and whermn 
 himself officiated, he contrived to mix the charms 
 of festivity and social pleasure with the solemnity 
 of the ceremonies. Thus he soothed their minds, 
 and calmed their fierceness, and martial fire. 
 Sometimes also, by acquainting thern with pro- 
 digies from heaven, by reports of dreadful appari- 
 tions and menacing voices, he inspired them with 
 terror, and humbled them with superstition, ihis 
 was the principal cause of the report^, that he drew 
 his wisdom from the sources of Pythagoras . for a 
 great part of the philosophy of the latter, as well 
 as the government of the former, consisted in 
 religious attentions and the. worship of the gods. 
 It is likewise said, that his solemn appearance 
 
 but as inferior ministers, who were to take .care of 
 the sacrifices, under the directicin of the tribunes, 
 who had commanded them in their military 
 
 ; ^^E^Others think they took their names from the 
 flame-coloured tufts they had on their caps. 
 They were denominated from the particular god 
 > to whom their ministry was confined, ^.^ Flamen 
 1 Dialis, the Priest of Jupiter ; Flamen Martialis, 
 - the Priest of Mars. , ^ . ... 
 
 r t Camillus is derived froin the Boeotic KaofUAo^, 
 
 . which properly signifies a servitor. In every 
 temple there was a youth of f . . I 
 
 ness it was to minister to the priest. It was 
 i necessary that the father and mother of the youth 
 n siVimild be both alive ; for which reason Plutarch 
 makes use of the word afx(pcOa\n, which the Latins 
 1 call patrimum et matrimum. 
 
 So it is in the text of Plutarch, as it nov 
 stands ; but it appears from Livy, that the augm 
 covered his own head, not that of A ugu. 
 
 ad IcBvam ejus, capite velato, seaem cepit,&tc 
 And, indeed, the augur always covered his hea< 
 in a gown peculiar to his office, called hena, whei 
 he made his observations. 
 
 . t Numa did not make use of them as guards 
 
NUMA. 
 
 49 
 
 and air of sanctity was copied from Pythagoras. 
 That philosopher had so far tamed an eagle, that, 
 by pronouncing certain words, he could stop it in 
 its flight, or bring it down ; and passing through 
 the multitudes assembled at the Olympic games, 
 he showed them his golden thigh ; besides other 
 arts and actions,, by which he pretended to some- 
 thing supernatural. This led Timon the Philasian 
 to write — 
 
 To catch applause Pythagoras affects 
 A solemn air and grandeur of expression. 
 
 But Numa feigned that some goddess or moun- 
 tain nymph favoured him with her private regards 
 (as we have already observed), and that he had 
 moreover frequent conversations with the muses. 
 To the latter he ascribed most of his revelations ; 
 and there was one in particular that he called 
 Tacita^ as much as to say, the mtise of silence 
 whom he taught the Romans to distinguish with 
 their veneration. By this, too, he seemed to show 
 his knowledge and approbation of the Pythago- 
 rean precept of silence. 
 
 His regulations concerning images seem like- 
 wise to have some relation to the doctrine of 
 Pythagoras ; who was of opinion that the First 
 Cause was not an object of sense, nor liable to 
 passion, but invisible, incorruptible, and discern- 
 ible onl}^- by the mind. Thus Numa forbade the 
 Romans to represent the Deity in the form either 
 of man or beast. Nor was there among them 
 formerly an^^ image or statue of the Divine Being : 
 during the first hundred and seventy years they 
 j built temples, indeed, and other sacred domes, 
 i but placed in them_ no figure of any kind : per- 
 suaded that it is impious to represent things 
 divine by w^hat is perishable, and that we can 
 have no conception of God but by the under- 
 standing. His sacrifices, too, resembled the 
 Pythagorean worship : for they were wfithout any 
 effusion of blood, consisting chiefly of flour, liba- 
 tions of wine, and other very simple and unexpen- 
 i sive things. 
 
 I To these arguments other circumstances are 
 : added, to prove that these two great men were ac- 
 ! quainted with each other. One of which is, that 
 j Pythagoras was enrolled a citizen of Rome. This 
 account we have in an address to Antenor from 
 Epicharmus,t a writer of comedy, and a very 
 ancient author, who was himself of the school of 
 Pythagoras. Another is, that Numa having four 
 sons,l; called one of them Mamercus, after the 
 name of a son of Pythagoras. From him too, 
 they tell us, the .^milian family is descended, 
 which is one of the noblest in Rome; the king 
 
 * In the city of Erythrae, there was a temple of 
 Minerva, where the priestess was called Hesychia, 
 that is, the composed, the silefit. 
 
 t According to the Marmora Oxon. Epichar- 
 mus flourished in the year before Christ 472 ; and 
 it is certain it must have been about that time, 
 because he was at the court of Hiero. 
 
 X Some writers, to countenance the vanity of 
 certain noble families in Rome, in deducing their 
 genealogy from Numa, have given that prince 
 four sons. But the common opinion is, that he 
 had only one daughter, named Pompilia. The 
 ^Rmiiii were one of the most considerable families 
 in Rome, and branched into the Lepidi, the 
 Pauli, and the Papi. _The word Ahmilus or 
 ^mylus, in Greek, signifiQS £^entle, graceful. 
 
 having glveii him the surname of .^milius, on 
 account of his graceful and engaging manner of 
 speaking. And I have myself been informed 
 by several persons in Rome, that the Romans 
 being commanded by the oracle to erect two 
 statues,* one to the wisest, and the other to the 
 bravest of the Grecians, set up in brass the figures 
 of Pythagoras and Alcibiades. But as these 
 matters are very dubious, to support or refute 
 them farther would look like the juvenile affecta- 
 tion of dispute. 
 
 _To Numa is attributed the institution of that 
 high order of priests called Pontifices,'\ over 
 which he is said to have presided himself. Some 
 say, they were called Pontifices, as employed in 
 the service of those powerful gods that govern 
 the world ; for potens in the Roman language 
 signifies powerftil. Others, from their being 
 ordered by the lawgiver to perform such secret 
 offices as w'ere in their power, and standing ex- 
 cused when there was some great impediment. 
 But most writers assign a ridiculous reason for 
 the term, as if they were called Pontifices from 
 their offering sacrifices upon the bridge, which 
 the Latins call pontem, such kind of ceremonies 
 it seems being looked upon as the most sacred, 
 and of greatest antiquity. These priests, too, 
 are said to have been commissioned to keep the 
 bridges in repair, as one of the most indispensable 
 parts of their holy office. For the Romans con- 
 sidered it as an execrable impiety to demolish the 
 wooden bridge; which, we are told, was built 
 without iron, and put together with pins of wood 
 only, by the direction of some oracle. The stone 
 bridge was built many ages after, when ^Emilius 
 was quaestor. Some, however, inform us, that 
 the wooden bridge was not constructed in the 
 time of Numa, having the last hand put to it by 
 Ancus Marcius, who was grandson to Numa by 
 his daughter. 
 
 The pontifex maximus, chief of these priests, 
 is interpreter of all sacred rites, or rather a super- 
 intendent of religion, having the care not only of 
 public sacrifices, but even of private rites and 
 offerings, forbidding the people to depart from 
 the stated ceremonies, and teaching them how 
 to honour and propitiate the gods. He had also 
 the inspection of the holy virgins called Vestals. 
 For to Numa is ascribed the sacred establishment 
 of the vestal virgins, and the whole service with 
 
 _ * Pliny tells us ( 1 . xxxiv. c, 5) it was in the 
 time of their v.'^ar with the Samnites that the 
 Romans were ordered to set up these statues; 
 that they were accordingly placed in the co 77 ti- 
 tium ; and that they remained there till the 
 dictatorship of Sylla. The oracle, by this direc- 
 tion, probably intimated, that the Romans, if 
 they desired to be victorious, should imitate the 
 wisdom and valour of the Greeks. 
 
 *f* Numa created four, who were all patricians. 
 But in the year of Rome 453 or 454, four plebeians 
 were added to the number. The king himself is 
 here asserted to have been the chief of them, or 
 pontifex maxim^is ; though Livy attributes that 
 honour to another person of the same name, viz. 
 Numa Marcius, the son of Marcius, one of the 
 senators. It seems, however, not improbable that 
 Numa, who was pf so religious a turn, reserved 
 the chief dignity in the priesthood to himself, as 
 kings had done in the first ages of the world, and 
 as the emperors of Rome did afterwards. 
 
 £ 
 
^0 ( PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 respect to the perpetual fire, which they watch 
 continually. This office seems appropriated to 
 them, either because fire, which is of a pure and 
 incorruptible nature, should be looked after by 
 persons untouched and undefiled, or else because 
 virginity, like fire, is barren and unfruitful. 
 Agreeably to this last reason, at the places in 
 Greece where the sacred fire is preserved un- 
 extinguished, as at Delphi and Athens, not 
 virgins, but widows past child-bearing, have the 
 charge of it. If it happens by any accident to be 
 put out, as the sacred lamp is said to^ have been 
 at Athens, under the tyranny of Aristion ; * at 
 Delphi, when the temple was burned by the 
 Medes ; and at Rome, in the Mithridatic war, 
 as also in the civil war,t when not only the fire 
 was extinguished, but the altar overturned ; it is 
 not to be lighted again from another fire, but 
 new fire is to be gained by drawing a pure and 
 unpolluted flame from the sunbeams. They 
 kindle it generally with concave yessels of brass, 
 formed by the conic section of a rectangled 
 triangle, whose lines from the circumference 
 meet in one central point. This being placed 
 against the sun, causes its rays to converge in 
 the centre, which, by reflection, acquiring the 
 force and activity of fire, rarefy the air, and im- 
 mediately kindle such light and dry matter as 
 they think fit to apply.! Some are of opinion, 
 that the sacred virgins have the care of nothing 
 but the perpetual fire. But others say they have 
 some private rites besides, kept from the sight of 
 all but their own body, concerning which I have 
 delivered, in the life of Camillus, as much as it 
 was proper to inquire into or declare. 
 
 It is reported that at first only two virgins 
 were consecrated by Numa, whose names were 
 Gegania and Verania ; afterwards two others 
 Canuleia and Tarpeia; to whom Servius added 
 two more ; and that number has continued to this 
 time. The vestals were obliged by the king to 
 preserve their virginity for thirty years. The 
 first ten years they spent in learning their office ; 
 the next ten in putting in practice what they had 
 learned ; and the third period in the instructing 
 of others. At the conclusion of this time, such 
 as chose it had liberty to marry, and quitting 
 their sacred employment to take up some other. 
 However, we have account of but very few that 
 accepted this indulgence, and those did not 
 prosper. They generally became a prey to^ repent- 
 ance and regret, from whence the rest, inspired 
 
 with a religious fear, were ^willing to end their 
 lives under the same institution. ^ 
 
 The king honoured them^ with great j)riyileges, 
 such as power to make a will during their father s 
 life, and to transact their other affairs without a 
 guardian, like the mothers of three children now. 
 When they went abroad, they had the /asces 
 carried before them ;* and if, by accident, they 
 met a person led to execution, his life was granted 
 him. But the vestal was to make oath f that it 
 was by chance she met him, and not by design. 
 
 It was death to go under the chair in which they 
 were carried. 
 
 For smaller offences these virgins were pun- 
 ished with stripes ; and sometimes the pontifex 
 maximns gave them the discipline naked, in 
 some dark place, and under the cover of_ a veil : 
 but she that broke her vow of chastity was 
 buried' alive by the Colluie gate. There, within 
 the walls, is raised a little mount of earth, called 
 in Latin Agger; under which is prepared a 
 small cell, with steps to descend to it. In this 
 are placed a bed, a lighted lamp, and some 
 slight provisions, such as bread, water, milk, and 
 oil, as they thought it impious to take off a 
 person consecrated with the most awful cere- / 
 monies, by such a death as that of famine. X 
 The criminal is carried to punishment through 
 ' the Forum, in a litter well covered without, and 
 bound up in such a manner that her cries cannot 
 be heard. The people silently make way for 
 the litter, and follow it with marks of extreme 
 sorrow and dejection. There is no spectacle 
 more dreadful than this, nor any day which the 
 city passes in a more melancholy manner. When 
 the litter comes to the place appointed, the 
 officers loose the cords, the high-priest, with 
 hands lifted up towards heaven, offers up some 
 private prayers just before the^ fatal minute, 
 then takes out the prisoner, who is covered with 
 a veil, and places her upon the steps which lead 
 down to the cell : after this, he retires with the 
 rest of the priests, and when she is gone 
 down, the steps are taken away, and the cell 
 is covered with earth ; so that the place is made 
 level with the rest of the mount. Thus were 
 the vestals punished that preserved not their 
 chastity. 
 
 It is also said, that Numa built the temple of 
 Vesta, where the perpetual fire: was to be kept, § 
 in an orbicular form, not intending to represent 
 the figure of the earth, as if that was meant by 
 
 * This Aristion held out a long time against 
 Sylla, who besieged and took Athens in the time 
 of the Mithridatic war. Aristion himself com- 
 mitted innumerable outrages in the city, and was 
 at last the cause of its being sacked and plundered. 
 As for the sacred fire, it was kept in the temple 
 of Minerva. 
 
 t Livy tells us ( 1 . 86) that towards the conclu- 
 sion of the civil war between Sylla and Marius, 
 Mutius Schsevola, the pontiff, was killed at the 
 entrance of the temple of Vesta ; but we do not 
 find that the sacred fire was extinguished. And 
 even when that temple was burned, towards the 
 end of the first Punic war, L. Cecilius Metellus, 
 then pontiff, rushed through the flames, and 
 brought off the Palladium and other sacred 
 things, though with the loss of his sight. 
 
 t Burning glasses were invented by Archi- 
 medes, who flourished 500 years after Numa. 
 
 * This honour was not conferred upon them by 
 Numa, but by the triumvirate in the year of 
 Rome 712. 
 
 t Neither a vestal nor a priest of Jupiter was 
 obliged to take an oath. They were believed 
 without that solemnity. 
 
 X There seems to be something improbable and 
 inconsistent in this. Of what use could pro- 
 visions be to the vestal, who, when the grave 
 was closed upon her, must expire through want 
 of air? Or, if she could make use of those 
 provisions, was she not at last to die by famine ? 
 Perhaps what Plutarch here calls provisions were 
 materials for some sacrifice. 
 
 § Dionysius of Halicarnassus ( 1 . ii.) is of 
 opinion, and probably he is right, that Numa did 
 build the temple of Vesta in a round form, to 
 represent the figure of the earth ; for by V ?sta 
 they meant the earth. 
 
NUMA, 
 
 Vesta, but the frame of the universe, in the 
 centre of which the Pythagoreans place the ele- 
 ment of fire, * and give it the name of Vesta and 
 U7iity. The earth they supposed not to be 
 without motion, nor situated in the centre of the 
 world, but to make its revolution round the 
 sphere of fire, being neither one of the most 
 valuable nor principal parts of the great machine. 
 Plato, too, in his old age, is reported to have been 
 of the same opinion, assigning the earth a dif- 
 ferent situation from the centre, and leaving that, 
 as the place of honour, to a nobler element. 
 
 The Pofitijices were, moreover, to prescribe the 
 form of funeral rites to such as consulted them. 
 Numa himself taught them to look upon the last 
 offices to the dead as no pollution. He instructed 
 them to pay all due honour to the infernal gods, 
 as receiving the most excellent part of us, and 
 more particularly to venerate the goddess Libt- 
 tina, as he called her, who presides over funeral 
 solemnities ; whether he meant by her Proserpine, 
 or rather Venus, f as some of the most learned 
 Romans suppose ; not improperly ascribing to 
 the same divine power the care of our birth and 
 of our death. 
 
 He himself likewise fixed the time of mourning, 
 according to the different ages of the deceased. 
 He allowed none for a child that died under three 
 years of age ; and for one older the mourning was 
 only to last as many months as he lived years, 
 provided those were not more than ten. TJie 
 longest mourning was not to continue above ten 
 months, after which space widows were permitted 
 to marry again : but she that took another hus- 
 band before that term was out, was obliged by 
 his decree to sacrifice a cow with calf. I 
 
 * That this was the opinion of Philolaus and 
 other Pythagoreans is well known : but Diogenes 
 Laertius tells us, that Pythagoras himself held 
 the earth to be the centre. 
 
 t This Venus Libitina was the same with 
 Proserpine. She was called at Delphi Venus 
 Epituinbia. Pluto was the Jupiter of the shades 
 below ; and there they had their Mercury too. 
 
 t Such an unnatural sacrifice was intended to 
 deter the widows from marj^ing again before the 
 expiration of their mourning. Romulus's year 
 consisting but of ten months, when Numa after- 
 wards added two months more, he did not alter 
 the time he had before settled for mourning ; and 
 therefore, though after that time we often meet 
 with Luctus annus, or a year's mourning, we 
 must take it only for the old year of Romulus. 
 
 The ordinary colour to express their grief, used 
 alike by both sexes, was black, without trimmings. 
 But after the establishment of the empire, when 
 abundance of colours came in fashion, the old 
 primitive white grew so much into contempt, that 
 it became peculiar to the women for their mourn- 
 ing. Vide Plut. Q7icest. Rom. 
 
 There were several accidents which often occa- 
 sioned the concluding of a public mourning, or 
 suspension of a private one, before the fixed time ; 
 such as the dedication of a temple, the solemnity 
 of public games or festivals, the solemn lustration 
 performed by the censor, and the discharging of 
 a vow made by a magistrate or a general. They 
 likewise put off their mourning habit when a 
 father, brother, or son, returned from captivity, or 
 when some of the family were advanced to a 
 considerable employment. 
 
 N uma instituted several other sacred orders ; 
 two of which I shall mention, the Salii* and 
 Feci ales, \ which afford particular proofs of his 
 piety. The Feciales, who were like the Ireno- 
 phy lakes, or guardia?is of the peace, among the 
 Greeks, had, I believe, a name expressive of 
 their office ; for they were to act and mediate 
 between the two parties, to decide their differences 
 by reason, and not suffer them to go to war till 
 all hopes of justice were lost. The Greeks call 
 such a peace Irene, as puts an end to strife, not 
 by mutual violence, but in a rational way. In 
 like manner the feciales, or heralds, were often 
 despatched to such nations as had injured the 
 Romans, to persuade them to entertain more 
 equitable sentiments : if they rejected their appli- 
 cation, they called the gods to witness, with 
 imprecations against themselves and their country, 
 if their cause was not just ; and so they declared 
 war. But if the feciales refused their sanction, 
 it was not lawful for any Roman soldier, nor even 
 for the king himself, to begin hostilities. War 
 was to commence with their approbation, as the 
 proper judges^ whether it was just, and then the 
 supreme magistrate was to deliberate concerning 
 the proper means of carrying it on. 'The great 
 misfortunes which befell the city from the Gauls, 
 are said to have proceeded from the violation of 
 these sacred rites. For when those barbarians 
 were besieging Clusium, Fabius Ambustus was 
 sent ambassador to their camp, with proposals of 
 peace in favour of the besieged. But receiving a 
 harsh answer, he thought himself released from 
 his character of ambassador, and rashly taking up 
 arms for the Clusians, challenged the bravest man 
 in the Gaulish army. He proved victorious, 
 indeed, in the combat, for he killed his adversary, 
 and carried off his spoils : but the Gauls having 
 discovered who he was, sent a herald to Rome to 
 accuse Fabius of bearing arms against them, 
 contrary to treaties and good faith, and without a 
 declaration of war. Upon this the feciales ex- 
 horted the senate to deliver him up to the Gauls ; 
 but he applied to the people, and being a favourite 
 with them, was screened from the sentence. 
 Soon after this the Gauls marched to Rome, and 
 sacked the whole city except the Capitol ; as we 
 have related at large in the life of Camillus. 
 
 The order of priests called Salii, is said to have 
 been instituted on this occasion : In the eighth 
 year of Numa's reign a pestilence prevailed in 
 Italy ; Rome also felt its ravages. While the 
 people were greatly dejected, we are told that a 
 brazen buckler fell from heaven into the hands of 
 Numa. Of this he gave a very wonderful account, 
 
 * The Salii were the guardians of the Ancilia, 
 or twelve shields hung up in the temple of Mars. 
 They took their name from their dancing in the 
 celebration of an annual festival instituted in 
 memory of a miraculous shield, which Numa 
 pretended, fell down from heaven. 
 
 t Dionysius of Halicarnassus finds them among 
 the Aborigines; and Numa is said to have 
 borrowed the institution from the people of 
 Latium. He appointed twenty feciales chosen 
 out of the most eminent families in Rome, and 
 settled them in a college. The pater patratus, 
 who made peace, or denounced war, was probably, 
 one o^' their body selected for that purpose, be- 
 cause he had both a father and a son alive. 
 Liv. 1. i. c. 24, 
 
 ITBRAK’^ — 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 
^2 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 received from Egeria and the muses : That the 
 buckler was sent down for the preservation of the 
 city, and should be kept with great care : That 
 eleven others should be made as like it as possible 
 in size and fashion, in order, that if any person 
 were disposed to steal it, he might not be able to 
 distinguish that which fell from heaven from the 
 rest. He farther declared, that the place, and the 
 meadows about it, where he frequently conversed 
 with the muses, should be consecrated to those 
 divinities ; and that the spring which watered the 
 ground should be sacred to the use of the vestal 
 virgins, daily to sprinkle and purity their temple. 
 The immediate cessation of the pestilence is said 
 to have confirmed the truth of this account. 
 Numa then showed the buckler to the artists, 
 and commanded them to exert all their skill for 
 an exact resemblance. They all declined the 
 attempt, except Veturius Tvlamurius, who was so 
 successful in the imitation, and made the other 
 eleven so like it, that not even Numa himself 
 could distinguish them. He gave these bucklers 
 in charge to the Salii; who did not receive their 
 name, as some pretend, from Salius of Samothrace 
 or Mantinea, that taught the way of dancing in 
 arms, but rather from the subsultive dance itself, 
 which they lead up along the streets, when in the 
 ' month of'March they carry the sacred bucklers 
 through the city. On that occasion they are 
 habited in purple vests, girt with broad belts of 
 brass ; the^’’ wear also brazen helmets, and carry 
 short swords, with which they strike upon the 
 bucklers, and to those sounds they keep time with 
 their feet. They move in an agreeable manner, 
 performing certain involutions and evolutions in a 
 quick measure, with vigour, agility, and ease. 
 
 These bucklers are called Auci/ia, from the 
 form of them. For they are neither chcular, nor 
 yet, like the pelta^ semicircular, but fashioned in 
 two crooked indented lines, the extremities of 
 which meeting close, form a curve, in Greek 
 ancylon. Or else they may be so named from 
 the ancon or bend of the ann, on which they are 
 carried. This account of the matter we have 
 from Juba, who is very de.sirous to derive the 
 term from the Greek. But if \ve must have an 
 etymology from that language, it may be taken 
 from their descending, anckathen, from on high ; 
 or from akesis, their healing of the sick ; or from 
 anchmo7i bisis, their putting an end to the 
 drought ; or lastly, from anaschesis, deliverance 
 from calamities : For which reason also Castor 
 and Pollux were by the Athenians called anakes. 
 The reward Mamurius had for his art, was, we 
 are told, an ode, which the Salians _ sung in 
 memory of him, along with the Pyrrhic dance. 
 Some, however, say, it was not Veturius Mamu- 
 ? ius, who was celebrated in that composition, but 
 ret 7 ^s 7 }iemo 7 ia, the ancient retnetiihrance of the 
 
 Aher Numa had instituted these several orders 
 of priests, he erected a royal palace called Regia, 
 near the temple of Vesta ; and there he passed 
 most of his time, either in performing some sacred 
 function, or instructing the priests, or, at least 
 in conversing with them on some divine subject. 
 He had also another house upon the Quirinal 
 mount, the situation of which they still show us. 
 In all public cere.monies and processions of the 
 priests a herald went before, who gave notice to 
 the people to keep holiday. For, as they tell us, 
 the Pythagoreans would not suffer their disciples 
 
 to pay any homage or worship to the gods in a 
 cursory manner, but required them to come 
 prepared for it by meditation at home ; so Numa 
 was of opinion, that his citizens should neither 
 see nor hear any religious service in a slight^ or 
 careless wav, but disengaged from other atlairs, 
 bring with them that attention which an object of 
 such importance required. The streets and waj’S, 
 on such occasions, were cleared of clamour, and 
 all manner of noi.se which attends manual labour, 
 that the solemnities might not be disturbed. 
 Some vestiges of this still remain : for when the 
 consul is employed either in augury or sacrificing, 
 they call out to the people. Hoc age, “ Mind 
 this ; ” and thus admonish them to be orderly and 
 attentive. 
 
 Many other of his institutions resemble those of 
 the Pjdhagoreans. For as these had precepts, 
 which enjoined not to sit upon a bushel ; * nor to 
 stir the fire with a sword ; f not to turn back upon 
 a journey ; J to offer an odd number to the 
 celestial gods, and an even one to the terrestrial ; § 
 the sense of which precepts is hid from the \mlgar : 
 so some of Numa’s have a concealed meaning ; as, 
 not to offer to the gods wine proceeding from a 
 vine unpruned ; nor to sacrifice without meal ; |1 
 to turn round when you worship ; ^ and to sit 
 down when jmu have worshipped. The two 
 first precepts seem to recommend agriculture as a 
 part of religion. And tli'e turnipg round _ in 
 adoration, is said to represent the circular motion 
 of the world. But I rather think, that as the 
 temples opened towards the east, such as entered 
 them necessarily turning their backs upon the 
 rising sun, made a half turn to that quarter, in 
 honour of the god of day, and then completed the 
 circle, as well as their devotions, with their faces 
 towards the god of the temple. Unless, perhaps, 
 this change of posture may have an enignriatical 
 meaning, like the Egyptian wheels, admonishing 
 us of the instability of everything human, and 
 preparing us to acquiesce and rest satisfied with 
 whatever turns and changes the divine being allots 
 us. As for sitting down after an act of religion, 
 they tell us it was intended as an omen of success 
 in praj’^er, and of lasting happiness afterwards. 
 They add, that as actions are divided by intervals 
 
 * That is, not to give up ourselves to idleness. 
 
 t Not to irritate him who is already angry. 
 
 Jin another place Plutarch gives this precept 
 thus, “ Never return from the borders.” But the 
 sense is the same : Die like a man ; do not long 
 after life, when it is departing, or wish to be 
 young again. 
 
 § The Pagans looked on an odd number as the 
 more perfect and the symbol of concord, because 
 it cannot be divided into two equal parts, as the 
 even number may, tvhich is therefore the symbol 
 of division. This prejudice was not onlj^ the 
 reason why the first month was consecrated^ to 
 the celestial, and the second to the terrestrial, 
 deities; but gave birth to a thousand supersti- 
 tious practices, which in some countries are still 
 kept up by those whom reason and religion ought 
 to have undeceived. 
 
 11 The principal intention of this precept might 
 be to wean them from sacrifices of blood, and to 
 bring them to offer only cakes and figures of 
 animals made of paste. 
 
 *11 Probably to represent the immensity of the 
 Godhead. 
 
NUMA, 
 
 of rest, so when one business was over, they sat 
 down in the presence of the gods, that under 
 their auspicious conduct they might b^in another. 
 Nor is this repugnant to what has been already 
 advanced : Since the lawgiver wanted to accustom 
 us to address the deity not in the midst of busi- 
 ness or hurry, but when we have time and leisure 
 to do it as we ought. 
 
 By this sort of religious discipline the people 
 became so tractable, and were impressed with such 
 a veneration of Numa’s power, that they admitted 
 many improbable, and even fabulous tales, and 
 thought nothing incredible or impossible which 
 he undertook. Thus he is said to have invited . 
 many of the citizens to his table,* where he took ; 
 I care the vessels should be mean, a,nd the provisions 
 ! plain and inelegant ; but after they were seated, 
 ne told them, the goddess with whom he used to 
 converse, was corning to visit him, when, on a I 
 sudden the room was supplied with the most 
 costly vessels, and the table with a most magnih- 
 cent entertainment. But nothing can be imagined 
 more absurd than what is related of his conversa- 
 tion with Jupiter. The story goes, that when 
 mount Aventine was not enclosed within the 
 walls, nor yet inhabited, but abounded with flow- 
 ing springs and shady groves, it v/as frequented 
 by tv/o demigods, Picus and Faunus. These, in 
 other respects, v/ere like the Satyrs, or the race 
 of Titans; but in the wonderful feats they per- 
 formed by their skill in pharmacy and magic more 
 resembled the Id^ei Daciyli \ (as the Greeks call 
 them); and thus provided, they roamed about 
 Italy. They tell us, that Numa, Imving mixed 
 the fountain of which they used to drink with wine 
 and honey, surprised and ^ught them. Upon this, 
 th^ turned themselves into many forms, and, 
 quitting their natural figure, assumed strange and 
 horrible appearances. But when they found they 
 could not break or escape from the bond that held 
 them, they acquainted him v/ith many secrets of 
 futurity and taught him a charm for thunder and 
 lightning, composed of onions, hair, and pilchards, 
 which is used to this day. Others say, these 
 demigods did not communicate the charm, but 
 that by the force of magic they brought down 
 J upiter from heaven. The god, resenting this at 
 Numa's hands, ordered the charm to consist of 
 heads. Of onions,’* replied Numa. “ No, 
 
 * Dionysius tells us, that Numa showed these 
 Romans all the rooms of his palace in the morning, 
 meanly furnished, and without any signs of a great 
 entertainment ; that he kept them with him great 
 part of the day ; and when they returned to sup 
 with him by invitation in the evening, they found 
 everything surprisingly magnificent. It is likely, 
 Numa imputed the change to his invisible friend. 
 
 t Diodorus tells us from Ephorus, the Idiei 
 Dactyli were originally from Mount Ida in Phrygia 
 from whence they passed into Europe with king 
 Minos. They settled first in Samothrace, where 
 they taught the inhabitants religious rites. Or- 
 pheus is thought to have been their disciple ; ^d 
 the first that carried a form of worship over into 
 Greece. The Dactyli are likewise said to have 
 found out the use of fire, and to have discovered 
 the nature of iron and brass to the inhabitants of 
 the country adjoining to Mount Berecynthus, and 
 to have taught them- the way of working them. 
 For this, and niany other useful discoveries, they 
 were after their death worshipped as gods. 
 
 53 
 
 human.” — Hairs," said Numa, desirous to fence . 
 against the dreadful injunction, and interrupting i 
 the god. Living," said Jupiter : ** Pilchards," ■ 
 said Numa. He was instructed it seems, by 
 Egeria, how to manage the matter. Jupiter went j 
 away propitious, in Greek iteos, whence the place ■ 
 was call^ Ilicium ; * and so the charm was 
 effected. These things, fabulous and ridiculous 
 as they are, show how superstition, confirmed by ^ 
 cu-stom, operated upon the minds of the people. 
 
 As for Numa himself, he placed his confidence so . 
 entirely in God, that when one brought him word 
 the enemy was coming, he only smiled, saying, 
 And I arn sacrificing." ^ ■ 
 
 He is recorded to have been the first that built = 
 temples to Fides,\ ur Faith, and to T erminus ; X 
 and he taught the Romans to swear by /aith, a.s 
 the greatest of oaths ; v/hich they still continue 
 to make use of. In our times they sacrifice j 
 animals in the fields, both on public and private j 
 occasions, to Terminus, as the god of boundaries ; • 
 but formerly the offering was an inanimate one ; j 
 for Numa argued that there should be no effusion 
 of blood in the rites of a god, who is the witness 
 of justice, and guardian of peace. It is indeed 
 certain, that Numa was the first that marked out 
 the bounds of the Roman territory ; Romulus 
 being unwilling, by measuring out his own, to 
 show how much he had encroached upon the 
 neighbouring countries : for bounds, if preserved, 
 are barriers against lawless power ; if violated, 
 they are evidences of injustic^e. The territory of 
 the city was by no means extensive at first, but 
 Romulus added to it a considerable district gained 
 by the sword. Ail this Numa divided among the 
 indigent citizens, that poverty might not drive 
 them to rapine ; and, as he turned the application 
 of the people to agriculture, their temper was 
 subdued together with the ground. For no occu- 
 pation implants so speedy and so effectual a love 
 of peace, as a country life ; where there remains 
 indeed courage and bravery sufficient to defend 
 their property, but the temptations to injustice 
 and avarice are removed. Numa, therefore, intro- 
 duced among his subjects an attachment to faus- 
 
 * This is Plutarch’s mistake. Ovid informs us 
 (Fast. 1 . iii.) that Jupiter was called ELicius from 
 elicere, to draw out, because Jupiter was dravm 
 out of heaven on this occasion. 
 
 t This was intended to make the Romans pay 
 as much regard to their v/ord, as to a contract in 
 writing. And so excellent, in fact, were their ’ 
 principles, that Polybius gives the Romans of his 
 time this honourable testimo.ny — “They most in- 
 violably keep their word without being obliged to 
 it by bail, witness, or promise; whereas, ten : 
 securities, twenty promises, and as many witnesses, 1 
 cannot hinder the faithless Greeks from attempting i 
 to deceive and disappioint you." No wonder, 
 then, that so virtuous a people were victorious 
 over those that v/ere become thus degenerate and - 
 dishonest. 
 
 X The Dii Ter mini -uexe represented by stones, 
 which Numa caused to be placed on the borders 
 of the Roman state, and of each man's private 
 lands. In honour of the.se deities, he instituted a 
 festival called TermiTtalia, which was annually 
 celebrated on the 22nd or 23rd of February. To 
 remove the Dii Termini was deemed a sacrilege of 
 so heinous a nature, that any man might kill, with 
 impunity, the transg;re=.sor. 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 bandry as a charm of peace, and contriving a 
 business for them, which would rather form their 
 manners to simplicity than raise them to opulence, 
 he divided the country into several portions, which 
 he called pagi, or boroughs, and appointed over 
 each of them a governor or overseer,, Sometimes 
 also he inspected them himself, and judging of the 
 disposition of the people by the condition of their 
 farms, some he advanced to posts of honour and 
 trust ; and on the other hand, he reprimanded and 
 endeavoured to relorm the negligent and the idle. 
 But the most admired of all his institutions is 
 his distribution of the citizens into companies, 
 according to their arts and trades. F or the city 
 consisting, as we have observed, of two nations, 
 or rather factions, who were by no means willing 
 to unite, or to blot out the remembrance of their 
 original difference, but maintained perpetual con- 
 tests and party quarrels ; he took the same method 
 with them as is used to incorporate hard and solid 
 bodies, which, while entire, will not mix at all, 
 but when reduced to powder, unite with ease. 
 To attain his purpose, he divided, as I said, the 
 whole multitude into small bodies, who gaining 
 new distinctions, lost by degrees the great and 
 original one, in consequence of their being thus 
 broken info so many parts. This distribution was 
 made according to the several arts or trades of 
 musicians, goldsmiths, masons, dyers, shoemakers, 
 tanners, braziers, and potters. _He collected the 
 other artificers also into companies, who had their 
 respective halls, courts, and religious ceremonies, 
 peculiar to each society. By these means he first 
 took away the distinction of Sabines and Romans, 
 subjects of Tatius, and subjects of Romulus, both 
 name and thing ; the very separation into parts 
 mixing and incorporating the whole together. _ 
 
 He is celebrated also, in his political capacity, 
 for correcting the law which empowered fathers 
 to sell their children,! excepting such as married 
 by their father's command or consent; for he 
 reckoned it a great hardship that a woman should 
 marry a man as free, and then live with a slave. 
 
 He attempted the reformation of the calendar 
 too, which he executed with some degree of skill, 
 though not with absolute exactness. In the 
 reign of Romulus, it had neither measure nor 
 order, some months consisting of fewer than 
 twenty days,! while some were stretched to thirty- 
 
 five, and others even to more. They had no idea 
 of the difference between the annual course of the 
 sun, and that of the moon, and only laid down 
 this position, that the year consisted of 360 days. 
 Numa, then, observing that there was a difference 
 of eleven days, 354 days making up the lunar 
 year, and 365 the solar, doubled those eleven days, 
 and inserted them as an intercalary month, after 
 that of February, every other year. This ad- 
 ditional month was called by the Romans Mer- 
 cedinus. But this amendment of the irregularity 
 afterwards required a farther amendment. He 
 likewise altered the order of the months, making 
 March the third, which was the first; January 
 first which was the eleventh of Romulus, and 
 February the second, which was the twelfth and 
 last. Many, however, assert, that the two months 
 of January and February were added by Numa, 
 whereas before they had reckoned but ten months 
 in the year, as some barbarous nations had but 
 three ; and, among the Greeks, the Arcadians 
 four, and the Acarnanians six. The Egyptian 
 year, they tell us, af first, consisted only of one 
 month, afterwards of four. And therefore, though 
 they inhabit a new country, they seem to be a very 
 ancient people, and reckon in their chronology an 
 incredible number of years, because they account 
 months for years.* 
 
 consequently by the lunar year, originally, is plain 
 from their calends, nones, and ides. To compose 
 these two months, he added fifty days to the 304, 
 in order to make them answer to the course of the 
 moon. Beside this, he observed the difference 
 between the solar and the lunar course to be eleven 
 days ; and, to remedy the inequality, he doubled 
 those days after every two years, adding an in- 
 terstitial month after February ; which Plutarch 
 here calls Mercedinus ; and, in the life of Julius 
 Caesar Mercedonius. Festus speaks of certain 
 days, which he calls Dies Mercedonii, because 
 they were appointed for the payment of workmen 
 and domestics, which is all we know of the word. 
 As Numa was sensible that the solar year con- 
 sisted of 365 and six hours, and that the six hours 
 made a whole day in four years, he commanded, 
 that the month Mercedinus, after every four years, 
 should consist of twenty-three days ; but the care 
 of these intercalations being left to the priests, 
 they put in or left out the intercalary day or 
 month, as they fancied it lucky or unlucky ; and, 
 by that means, created such a confusion, that the 
 festivals came, in process of time, to be kept at a 
 season quite contrary to what they had been 
 formerly. The Roman calendar had gained near 
 three months in the days of Julius Caesar, and 
 therefore wanted a great reformation again. 
 
 * To suppose the Egyptians reckoned months 
 for years, does indeed bring their computation 
 pretty near the truth, with respect to the then age 
 of the world ; for they reckoned a succession of 
 kings for the space of 36,000 years. But that 
 supposition would make the reigns of their kings 
 unreasonably short. Besides, Herodotus says, 
 the Egyptians were the first that began to com- 
 pute by years ; and that they made the year con- 
 sist of twelve months. Their boasted antiquity 
 must, therefore, be imputed to their stretching 
 the fabulous part of their history too far back. 
 As to Plutarch’s saying that Egypt was a new 
 country, it is strange that such a notion could 
 ever be entertained by a man of his knowledge. 
 
 * To neglect the cultivation of a farm was con- 
 sidered amongst the Romans as a censorium 
 probrum ; a fault that merited the chastisement 
 of the censor. 
 
 t Romulus had allowed fathers greater power 
 over their children than masters had over their 
 slaves. For a master could sell his slave but 
 once ; whereas a father could sell his son three 
 times, let him be of what age or condition soever. 
 
 t But Macrobius tells us (Saturnal. 1 . i. c. 12), 
 that Romulus Settled the number of days with 
 more equality, allotting to March, May, Quintilis, 
 and October, one and thirty days each ; to April, 
 June, Sextilis, November, and December, thirty; 
 making up in all 304 days. Numa was better 
 acquainted with the celestial motions ; and there- 
 fore, in the first place, added the two months of 
 January and February. By the way, it is pro- 
 bable, the reader will think, that neither Romulus, 
 nor any other man, could be so ignorant as to 
 make the lunar year consist of 304 days; and 
 that the Romans reckoned by lunar months, and 
 
NUMA, 55 
 
 That the Roman year contained at first ten 
 months only, and not twelve, we have a proof 
 in the name of the last; for they still call it 
 December, or the tenth month ; and that March 
 was the first is also evident, because the fifth 
 from it was called Quintilis the sixth Sextilis, 
 and so the rest in their order. If January and 
 February had then been placed before March, 
 the month Qtdntilis would have been the fifth in 
 name, but the seventh in reckoning. Besides, 
 it is reasonable to conclude, that the month of 
 March, dedicated by Romulus to the god Mars, 
 should stand first ; and April second, which has 
 its name from Aphrodite, or Vemis, for in this 
 month the women sacrifice to that goddess, and 
 bathe on the first of it, with crowns of myrtle on 
 their heads. Some, however, say, April derives 
 not its names from Aphrodite ; but, as the very 
 sound of the term seems to dictate, from aperire, 
 to open, because the spring having then attained 
 its vigour, it opens and unfolds the blossoms of 
 plants. The next month, which is that of May, 
 IS so called from Maia, the mother of Mercury ; 
 for to him it is sacred. June is so styled from the 
 youthjul season of the year. Some again inform 
 us, that these tv/o months borrow their names 
 from the two ages, old and young- ; for the older 
 men are called majores, and the younger juniores. 
 The succeeding months were denominated accord- 
 ing to their order, of fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, 
 ninth, tenth. Afterwards Quintilis was called 
 July, in honour of Julius Caesar, who overcame 
 Pompey; and Sextilis August, from Augustus 
 the second emperor of Rome. To the two follow- 
 ing months Domitian gave his two names of 
 Germanicus and Domitiamis, which lasted but a 
 little while ; for, when he was slain, they resumed 
 their old names, September and October. The 
 two last were the only ones that all along retained 
 the original appellation which they had from their 
 order. February, which was either added or 
 transposed by Numa, is the month of purifica- 
 tion ; for so the term signifies ; and then rites are 
 celebrated for the purifying of trees,* and pro- 
 curing a blessing on their fruits; then also the 
 feast of the Ltipercalia is held, whose ceremonies 
 greatly resemble those of a lustration. January, 
 the first month, is so named from Jamis. And 
 Numa seems to me to have taken away the 
 precedency from March, which is denominated 
 from the god of war, with a design to show his 
 preference of the political virtues to the martial. 
 For this Janus, m the most remote antiquity, 
 t whether a demigod or a king, being remarkable 
 for his political abilities and his cultivation of 
 society, reclaimed men from their rude and 
 savage manners ; he is therefore represented with 
 
 two faces, as having altered the former state of 
 the world, and given quite a new ttum to life. 
 He has also a temple at Rome with two gates, 
 which they call the gates of war. It is the : 
 custom for this temple to stand open in the time I 
 of war, and to be shut in time of peace. The * 
 latter w'as seldom the case, as the empire has [ 
 been generally engaged in war on accoimt of its I 
 great extent, and its having to contend with so f 
 many surrounding barb^ous nations. It has, ' 
 therefore, been shut only in the reign of Augustus | 
 Caesar,* when he had conquered Antony: and ■ 
 before, in the consulate of Marcus Attiliusf and i 
 Titus Manlius, a little while; for, a new war ! 
 breaking out, it was soon opened again. In 
 Numa’s reign, however, it was not opened for 
 one day, but stood constantly shut during the 
 space of forty-three years, while uninterrupted 
 peace reigned in every quarter. Not only the 
 people of Rome were softened and humanized by 
 the justice and mildness of the king, but even the 
 circumjacent cities, breathing, as it were, the 
 same salutary and delightful air, began to change 
 their behaviour. Like the Romans, they became 
 desirous of peace and good laws, of cultivating 
 the ground, educating their children in tranquil- 
 lity, and paying their homage to the gods. Italy 
 then v/as taken up with festivals and sacrifices, 
 games, and entertainments; the people, without 
 any apprehensions of danger, mixed in a friendly 
 manner, and treated each other with mutual 
 hospitality; the love of virtue and justice, as 
 from the source of Numa*s wisdom, gently flowing 
 upon all, and moving with the* composure of his 
 heart. Even the hyperbolical expressions of the i 
 poets fall short of describing the happiness of 
 those days. 
 
 Secure Arachne spread her slender toils 
 O’er the broad buckler ; eating rust consum’d 
 The vengeful swords and once far-gleaming 
 spears : 
 
 No more the trump of war sn^ells its hoarse throat. 
 Nor robs the eyelids of their genial slumber. | 
 
 _ We have no account of either war or insurrec- 
 tion in the state during Numa’s reign. Nay, he 
 experienced neither enmity nor envy; nor did 
 ambition dictate either open or private attempts 
 against his crown. Whether it were the fear of 
 the gods, who took so pious a man under their 
 protection, or reverence of his virtue, or the 
 singular good fortune of his times, that kept the 
 manners of men pure and unsullied ; he was an ! 
 illustrious instance of that truth, which Plato 
 several ages after ventured to deliver concerning ■ 
 government : That the only sure prospect of | 
 deliverance from the evils of life will be, when | 
 
 * Another reading has it, rot? <piroii evayi^ovari 
 instead of rotr (pvrois : and then the sense will be, 
 they sacrifice to the dead. Both have their 
 authorities ; the common reading being supported 
 by a passage in Ovid, who takes notice that the 
 Luperci purified the ground, — 
 
 Secta quia Pelle Luperci 
 
 Omne sohun histrant. — Lib. ii. Fast. 
 
 And the other, which seems the better, rests upon 
 the authority of Varro and others, who mention 
 an offering to the dead in the month of February, 
 — Ab deis inferis Februaris appellatus, quod 
 tunc his parentetur. 
 
 * Augustus shut the temple of Janus three ! 
 several times ; one of which was in the year of 
 Rome 750, before the birth of our Saviour, ac- 
 cording to Isaiah’s prophecy, that all the world 
 should be blessed with peace, when the Prince 
 of Peace was bom. This temple was also shut 
 by Vespasian after his triumph over the Jews. 
 
 t Instead of Marcus we should read Caius 
 Attilius. Titus Manlius, his colleague, shut the 
 temple of Janus at the conclusion of the first 
 Punic war. 
 
 X Plutarch took this passage from some excel- 
 lent verses of Bacchylides in praise of peace, 
 given us by Stobaeus. 
 
56 
 
 PLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 the divine Providence shall so order it, that the 
 regal power, invested in a prince who has the 
 sentiments of a philosopher, shall render virtue 
 triumphant over vice. A man of such wisdom is 
 not only happy in himself, but contributes by his 
 instructions to the happiness of others. There 
 is, in truth, no need either of force or menaces, to 
 direct the multitude ; for when they see virtue 
 exemplified in so glorious a pattern as the life 
 of their prince, they become wise of themselves, 
 and endeavour by friendship and unanimity, by 
 a strict regard to j ustice and temperance, to form 
 themselves to an innocent and happy life.^ This 
 is the noblest end of government ; and he is most 
 worthy of the royal seat who can regulate the 
 lives and dispositions of his subjects in such a 
 manner. No one was more sensible of this than 
 Numa. 
 
 As to his wives and children, there are great 
 contradictions among historians. For some say, 
 he had no wife but Tatia, nor any child but one 
 daughter named Pompilip.. Others, beside that 
 daughter, give an account of four sons. Pompon, 
 Pinus, CaTpus, and Mamercus; every one of 
 which left an honourable posterity, the Pomponii 
 being descended from Pompon, the Pinarii from 
 Pinus, the Calpurnii from Calpus, and the Ma- 
 mercii from Mamercus. These were surnamed 
 Regis or kingsJ*’ But a third set of writers ac- 
 cuse the former of forging these genealogies from 
 Numa, in order to ingratiate themselves with 
 particular families. And they tell us, that Pom- 
 pilia was not the daughter of Tatia, but of 
 Lucretia, another, wife, whom he married after 
 he ascended the throne.^ Ail, however, agree, 
 that Pompilia was married to Marcius, son of 
 that Marcius who persuaded Numa to accept 
 the crown ; for he followed him to Rome, where 
 he was enrolled a senator, and, after Numa’s 
 death, was competitor with Tullus Hostilius for 
 the throne; but, failing in the enterprise, he 
 starved himself to death. ^ His son Marcius, 
 husband to Pompilia, remained in Rome, and 
 had a son named Ancus Marcius, who reigned 
 after Tullus Hostilius. This son is said to have 
 been but five years old at the death of Numa. 
 
 Numa was carried off by no sudden or acute 
 distemper; but, as Piso relates, wasted away 
 insensibly with old age and a gentle decline. 
 He was some few years above eighty when he 
 died. . r • 
 
 The neighbouring nations that were m friend- 
 ship and alliance with Rome, strove to make the 
 honours of his burial equal to the happiness of 
 his life, attending with crowns and other public 
 offerings. The senators carried the bier, and 
 the ministers of the gods walked in procession. 
 The rest of the people, with the women and 
 children, crowded to the funeral ; not, as if they 
 were attending the interment of an aged king, 
 but as if they had lost one of their beloved 
 relations in the bloom of life ; for they followed 
 it with tears and loud lamentations. They did 
 not burn the body,t because (as we are told) he 
 
 * Rex was the surname of the .^milians and 
 Marcians, but not of the Pomponians, the Pinari- 
 ans, or Mamercians. The Pinarii were descended 
 from a family who were priests of Hercules, and 
 more ancient than the times^ of Numa. 
 
 t In the most ancient times they committed 
 the bodies of the dead to the ground, as appears 
 
 himself forbade it; but they made two stone 
 coffins, and buried them under the Janiculum ; 
 the one containing his body, and the other the 
 sacred books which he had written, in the same 
 manner as the Grecian legislators wrote their 
 tables of laws. 
 
 Numa had taken care, however, in his lifetime, 
 to instruct the priests in all that those books con- 
 tained, and to impress both the sense and practice 
 on their memories. He then ordered them to be 
 buried with him, persuaded that such mysteries 
 could not safely exist in lifeless writing. ^ Influ- 
 enced by the same reasoning, it is said, the 
 Pythagoreans did not commit their precepts to 
 writing, but entrusted them to the memories pf 
 such as they thought worthy of so great a deposit. 
 And when they happened to communicate to an 
 unworthy person their abstruse problems in 
 geometry, they gave out that the gods threatened 
 to avenge his profaneness and impiety with some 
 great and signal calamity. Those, therefore, may 
 be well excused who endeavour to prove by so 
 many resemblances that Numa was acquainted 
 with Pythagoras. Valerius Antias^ relates, that 
 there were twelve books written in Latin con- 
 cerning religion, and twelve more of philo- 
 sophy, in Greek, buried in that coffin. But 400 
 years after,* when Publius Cornelius and Marcus 
 Baebius were consuls, a prodigious fall of rain, 
 having washed away the earth that covered the 
 coffins, and the lids falling off, one of them 
 appeared entirely empty, without the least re- 
 mains of the body ; in the other the books were 
 found. Petilius, then Praetor, having examined 
 them, made his report upon oath to the senate, 
 
 from the history of _ the patriarchs. But the 
 Egyptians, from a vain desire of preserving their 
 bodies from corruption after death, had them 
 embalmed ; persons of condition with rich spices, 
 and even the poor had theirs preserved with salt. 
 The Greeks, to obviate the inconveniences that 
 might possibly happen from corruption, burned 
 the bodies of the dead ; but Pliny tells us that 
 Sylla was the first Roman whose body was burned. 
 When Paganism was abolished, the burning of 
 dead bodies ceased with it ; and jn the belief of 
 the resurrection, Christians committed their dead 
 with due care and honour to the earth, to repose 
 there till that great event. 
 
 * Plutarch probably wrote 500 ; for this hap- 
 pened in the year of Rome 573. ‘'One Teren- 
 tius,” says Varo (ap. S. August, de Ciy. Dei.) 
 “had a piece of ground near the Janiculum; 
 and a husbandman of his one day accidentally 
 running over Numa’s tomb, turned up some of 
 the legislator’s books wherein he gave his reasons 
 for establishing the religion of _ the Romans as he 
 left it. The husbandman carried these books to 
 the praetor, and the praetor to the senate, who, 
 after having read his frivolous reasons for his 
 religious establishments, agreed, that the books 
 should be destroyed, in pursuance of Numa’s 
 intentions. It was accordingly decreed, that the 
 praetor should throw them into the fire,” But 
 though Numa’s motives for the religion he es- 
 tablished might be trivial enough, that was not 
 the chief reason for suppressing them. The real, 
 at least the principal reason, was the many new 
 superstitions, equally trivial, which the Romans 
 had introduced, and the worship which they paid 
 to images, contrary to Numa’s appointment. 
 
JVl/MA AND LYCURGUS COMPARED. 
 
 that it appeared^ to him inconsistent both with 
 justice and religion, to make them public : in 
 consequence of which all the volumes were carried 
 into the Comitium, and burned. 
 
 Glory follows in the train of great men, and in- 
 creases after their death ; for envy does not long 
 survive them ; nay, it sometimes dies before them. 
 The misfortunes, indeed, of the succeeding kings 
 added lustre to the character of Numa. Of the 
 five that came after him, the last was driven from 
 the throne, and lived long in exile ; and. of the 
 other four, not one died a natural death. Three 
 were traitorously slain. As for Tullus Hostilius, 
 who reigned next after Numa, he ridiculed and 
 despised many of his best institutions, particularly 
 his religious ones, as effeminate, and tending to 
 inaction ; for his view was to dispose the people 
 to war. He did not, however, abide by his irre- 
 ligious opinions, but falling into a severe and 
 
 complicated sickness, he changed them for a 
 superstition,* very different from Numa’s piety : 
 others, too, were infected with the same false 
 principles, when they saw the manner of his 
 death, which is said to have happened by light- 
 ning.! 
 
 * None are so superstitious in distress as those 
 who in their prosperity have laughed at religion. 
 The famous Canon Vossius was no less remarkable 
 for the greatness of his fears, than he was for the 
 littleness of his faith. 
 
 t The palace of Tullus Hostilius w^s burned 
 down by lightning ; and he, with his wife and 
 children, perished in the flames. Though some 
 historians say, that Ancus Marcius, who, as the 
 grandson of Numa, expected to succeed to the 
 crown, took the opportunity of the storm, to 
 assassinate the king. 
 
 NUMA AND LYCURGUS COMPARED. 
 
 Having gone through the lives of Numa and 
 Lycurgus, we must now endeavour (though it is 
 no easy matter) to co7itrast their actions. The 
 resemblances between them however are obvious 
 enough ; their wisdom, for instance, their piety, 
 their talents for government, the instruction of 
 their people, and their deriving their laws from a 
 divine source. But the chief of their peculiar 
 distinctions, was Numa’s accepting a crown, and 
 Lycurgus’s relinquishing one. The former re- 
 ceived a kingdom without seeking it ; the latter 
 resigned one when he had it in possession. Numa 
 was advanced to sovereign power when a private 
 person and a stranger ; Lycurgus reduced himself 
 from a king to a private person. It was an 
 honour to the_ one to attain to ro 3 ml dignity by his 
 justice \ and it was an honour to the other to pre- 
 fer justice to that dignity. Virtue rendered the 
 one so respectable as to deserve a throne, and the 
 other so great as to be above it. 
 
 The second observation is, that both managed 
 their respective governments, as musicians do the 
 lyre, each in a different manner. Lycurgus 
 wound up the strings of Sparta, which he found 
 relaxed with luxury, to a stronger tone : Numa 
 softened the high and harsh tone of Rome. The 
 former had the more difficult task. For it was 
 not their swords and breastplates, which he per- 
 suaded his citizens to lay aside, but their gold 
 and silver, their sumptuous beds and tables ; what 
 he taught them was not to devote their time to 
 feasts and sacrifices, after quitting the rugged 
 paths of war, but to leave entertainments and the 
 pleasures of wine, for the laborious exercises of 
 arms and the wrestling ring. Numa effected his 
 purposes in a friendly way by the regard and 
 veneration the people had for his person ; Lycur- 
 gus had to struggle with conflicts and dangers, 
 before he could establish his laws. The genius of 
 N uma was more mild and gentle, softening and 
 attempering the fiery dispositions of his people to 
 justice and peace. If we be obliged to admit the 
 sanguinary and unjust treatment of the Helotes, 
 as a part of the politics of Lycurgus, we must 
 allow Numa to have been far the more humane 
 and equitable lawgiver, who permitted absolute 
 taste of the honour of freemen, and in 
 the Saturnalia to be entertained along with their 
 
 masters.! For this also they tell us was one of 
 Numa’s institutions, that persons in a state of 
 servitude should be admitted, at least once a year, 
 to the liberal enjoyment of those fruits which they 
 had helped to raise. Some however pretend to 
 find in this custom the vestiges of the equality 
 which subsisted in the times of Saturn, when 
 there was neither servant nor master, but all were 
 upon the same footing, and, as it were, of one 
 family. 
 
 Both appear to have been equally studious to 
 lead their people to temperance and sobriety. As 
 to the other virtues, the one was more attached 
 to fortitude, and the other to justice. Though 
 possibly the different nature and quality of their 
 respective governments required a different pro- 
 cess. For it was not through want of courage, 
 but to guard against injustice, that Numa re- 
 strained his subjects from war : nor did Lycurgus 
 endeavour to infuse a martial spirit into his people, 
 with a view to encourage them to injure others, 
 but to guard them against being injured by inva- 
 sions. As each had the luxuriances of his citizens 
 to prune, and their deficiencies to fill up, they 
 must necessarily make very considerable altera- 
 tions. 
 
 Numa’s distribution of the people was indulgent 
 and agreeable to the commonalty, as with him a 
 various and mixed mass of goldsmiths, musicians, 
 shoemakers, and other trades, composed the body 
 of the city. But Lycurgus inclined to the no- 
 bility in modelling his state, and he proceeded in 
 a severe and unpopular manner ; putting ail me- 
 
 ! The S aturnalia\72js, a feast celebrated on the 
 14 th of the kalends of January. Beside the sacri- 
 fices in honour of Saturn, who, upon his retiring 
 into Italy, introduced there the happiness of the 
 golden age, servants were at this time indulged in 
 mirth and freedom, in memory of the equality 
 which prevailed in that age ; presents were sent 
 from one friend to another ; and no war was to 
 be proclaimed, or offender executed. It is un- 
 certain when this festival was instituted. Mac- 
 robius says, it was celebrated in Italy long before 
 the building of Rome ; and probably he is right, 
 for the Greeks kept the same feast under the 
 name of Chroma. Macrob. Saturn. 1. i. c. 7 . 
 
58 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 chanic arts in the hands of slaves and strangers, 
 while the citizens were only taught how to man- 
 age the spear and shield. They were only artists 
 in war, and servants of Mars, neither knowing 
 nor desiring to know anything but how to obey 
 command, and conquer their enemies. That the 
 freemen might be entirely and once for all free, 
 he would not suffer them to give any attention to 
 their circumstances, but that whole business was 
 to be left to the slaves and Helotes, in the same 
 manner as the dressing of their meat. Numa 
 made no such distinction as this : he only put a 
 stop to the gain of rapine. Not solicitous to 
 prevent an inequality of substance, he forbade no 
 other means of increasing the fortunes of his 
 subjects, nor their rising to the greatest opulence ; 
 neither did he guard against poverty, which at 
 the same time made its way into, and spread in, 
 the city. While there was no great disparity in 
 the possessions of his citizens, but all were moder- 
 ately provided, he should at first have combated 
 the desire of gain; and, like Lycurgus, have 
 watched against its inconveniences; for those 
 were by no means inconsiderable, but such as 
 gave birth to the many and great troubles that 
 happened in the Roman state. 
 
 As to an equal division of lands, neither was 
 Lycurgus to blame for making it, nor Numa for 
 not making it. The equality which it caused, 
 afforded the former a firm foundation for his 
 government ; and the latter finding a division 
 already made, and probably as yet subsisting 
 entire, had no occasion to make a new one. 
 
 With respect to the community of wives and 
 children, each took a politic method to banish 
 jealousy. A Roman husband, when he had 3 . 
 sufficient number of children, and was applied to 
 by one that had none, might give up his wife to 
 him,* and was at liberty both to divorce her, and 
 to take her again. But the Lacedaemonian, while 
 his wife remained in his house, and the marriage 
 subsisted in its original force, allowed his friend, 
 who desired to have children by her, the use of 
 his bed : and (as we have already observed) many 
 husbands invited to their houses such men as 
 were likely to give them healthy and well-made 
 children. The difference between the two cus- 
 toms, is this, that the Lacedaemonians appeared 
 very easy and unconcerned about an affair that 
 in other places causes so much disturbance, and 
 consumes men’s hearts with jealousy and sorrow ; 
 whilst among the Romans there was a modesty, 
 which veiled the matter with a new contract, and 
 seemed to declare that a community in wedlock 
 is intolerable ! 
 
 Yet farther, Numa’s strictness as to virgins 
 tended to form them to that modesty which is 
 the ornament of their sex : but the great liberty 
 which Lycurgus gave them, brought upon them 
 the censure of the poets, particularly Ibycus : for 
 they call them PhcBnomerides, 2ia<i Andromafteis, 
 Euripides describes them in this manner : 
 
 These quit their homes, ambitious to display, 
 Amidst the youths, their vigour in the race. 
 
 Or feats of wrestling, whilst their airy robe 
 Flies back, and leaves their limbs uncover’d. 
 
 * It does not appear that Numa gave any 
 sanction to this liberty. Plutarch himself says a 
 little below, that no divorce was known in Rome 
 till long after. 
 
 The skirts of the habit which the virgins wore 
 were not sewed to the bottom, but opened at the 
 sides as they walked, and discovered the thigh ; 
 as Sophocles very plainly writes : 
 
 Still in the light dress struts the vain Hermione, 
 Whose opening folds display the naked thigh. 
 
 Consequently their behaviour is said to have been 
 too bold and too masculine, in particular to their 
 husbands. For they considered themselves as 
 absolute mistresses in their houses ; nay, they 
 wanted a share in affairs of state, and delivered 
 their sentiments with great freedom concerning 
 the most weighty matters. But Numa, though he 
 preserved entire to the matrons all the honour and 
 respect that were paid them by their husbands in 
 the time of Romulus, when they endeavoured by 
 kindness to compensate for the rape, yet he 
 obliged them to behave with great reserve, and 
 to lay aside all impertinent curiosity. He taught 
 them to be sober, and accustomed them to silence, 
 entirely to abstain from wine,* and not to speak 
 even of the most necessary affairs except in the 
 presence of their husbands. When a woman once 
 appeared in the forwn to plead her own cause, it 
 is reported that the senate ordered the oracle to 
 be consulted, what this strange event portended 
 to the city.f Nay, what is recorded of a few 
 infamous women is a proof of the obedience and 
 meekness of the Roman matrons in general. For 
 as our historians give us accounts of those who 
 first carried war into the bowels of their country, 
 or against their brothers, or were first guilty of 
 parricide; so the Romans relate, that Spurius 
 Carvilius was the first among them that divorced 
 his wife, when no such thing had happened 
 before for 230 years from the building of Rome : J 
 and that Thalsea, the wife of Pinarius, was the 
 first that quarrelled, having a dispute with her 
 mother-in-law Gegania, in the reign of Tar- 
 quin the proud. So well framed for the pre- 
 serving of decency and a propriety^ of behaviour 
 were this lawgiver’s regulations with respect to 
 marriage. 
 
 Agreeable to the education of virgins in Sparta, 
 were the directions of Lycurgus as to the time of 
 their being married. For he ordered them to be 
 married when both their age and wishes led them 
 to it ; that the company of a husband, which 
 nature now required, might be the foundation of 
 kindness and love, and not of fear and hatred, 
 which would be the consequence when nature was 
 forced ; and that their bodies might have strength 
 
 * Romulus made the drinking of wine, as well 
 as adultery, a capital crime in women. For he 
 said, adultery opens the door to all sorts of crimes, 
 and wine opens the door to adultery. The severity 
 of this law was softened in the succeeding ages ; 
 the women who were overtaken in liquor, were 
 not condemned to die, but to lose their dowers. 
 
 t What then appeared so strange, became after- 
 wards common enough ; insomuch that every 
 troublesome woman of that kind, was called 
 Afrania, from a senator’s wife of that name, who 
 busied herself much in courts of justice. The 
 eloquent Hortensia, daughter to the orator Hor- 
 tensius, pleaded with such success for the women, 
 when the triumvirs had laid a fine upon them, 
 that she got a considerable part of it remitted. 
 
 J It was in the 520th year of Rome that this 
 happened. 
 
SOLON, 
 
 59 
 
 to bear the troubles of breeding and the pangs of 
 childbirth ; the propagation of children being 
 looked upon as the only end of marriage. But 
 the Romans married their daughters at the age of 
 twelve years, or under ; that both their bodies 
 and manners might come pure and untainted into 
 the management of their husbands. It appears, 
 then, that the former institution more naturally 
 tended to the procreation of children, and the 
 latter to the forming of the manners for the matri- 
 monial union. 
 
 However, in the education of the boys, in regu- 
 lating their classes, and laying down the whole 
 method of their exercises, their diversions, and 
 their eating at a common table, Lycurgus stands 
 distinguished, and leaves Numa only upon a level 
 with ordinary lawgivers. For Numa left it to the 
 option or convenience of parents, to bring up 
 their sons to agriculture, to ship-building, to the 
 business of a brazier, or the art of a musician. 
 As if it were not necessary for one design to run 
 through the education of them all, and for each 
 individual to have the same bias given him ; but, 
 as if they were all like passengers in a ship, who, 
 coming each from a different employment, and 
 with a different intent, stand upon their common 
 defence in time of danger, merely out of fear for 
 themselves or their property, and on other occa- 
 sions are attentive only to their private ends. In 
 such a case common legislators would have been 
 excusable, who might have failed through igno- 
 rance or want of power ; but should not so wise a 
 man as Numa, who took upon him the govern- 
 ment of a state so lately formed, and not likely to 
 make the least opposition to anything he pro- 
 posed, have considered it as his first care, to give 
 the children such a bent of education, and the 
 youth such a mode of exercise, as would prevent 
 any great difference or confusion in their manners, 
 that so they might be formed from their infancy, 
 and persuaded to walk together, in the same 
 paths of virtue ? Lycurgus found the utility of 
 this in several respects, and particularly in se- 
 curing the continuance of his laws. For the 
 
 oath the Spartans had taken, would have availed 
 but little, if the youth had not been already 
 tinctured with his discipline, and trained to a zeal 
 for his establishment. Nay, so strong and deep 
 was the tincture, that the principal laws which he 
 enacted continued in force for more than 500 
 years. But the primary view of Numa’s govern- 
 ment, which was to settle the Romans in lasting 
 eace and tranquillity, immediately vanished with 
 im : and, after his death, the temple of Janus, 
 which he had kept shut (as if he had really held 
 war in prison and subjection) was set wide open, 
 and Italy was filled with blood.* The beautiful 
 pile of justice which he had reared presently fell 
 to the ground, being without the cement of edu- 
 cation. 
 
 You will say then, was not Rome bettered by 
 her wars? A_ question this which wants a long 
 answer, to satisfy such as place the happiness of 
 a state in riches, luxury, and an extent of do- 
 minion, rather than in security, equity, temper- 
 ance, and content. It may seem, however, to 
 afford an argument in favour of Lycurgus, that 
 the Romans, upon quitting the discipline of Numa, 
 soon arrived at a much higher degree of power ; 
 whereas the Lacedaemonians, as soon as they de- 
 parted from the institutions of Lycurgus, from 
 being the most respectable people of Greece, be- 
 came the meanest, and were in danger of being 
 absolutely destroyed. On the other hand, it must 
 be acknowledged something truly great and 
 divine in Numa, to be invited from another 
 country to the throne ; to^ make so many altera- 
 tions by means of persuasion only ; to reign un- 
 disturbed over a city not yet united in itself, 
 without the use of an armed force (which Lycur- 
 gus was obliged to have recourse to, when he 
 availed himself of the aid of the nobility against 
 the commons), and by his wisdom and justice 
 alone to conciliate and combine all his subjects in 
 peace. 
 
 * In the wars with the Fidenatfes, the Albans, 
 and the Latins. 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 Didymus the grammarian, in his answer to Ascle- 
 piades concerning the laws of Solon, cites the 
 testimony of one Philocles, by which he would 
 prove Solon the son of Euphorion, contrary to 
 the opinion of others that have written of him. 
 For they all with one voice declare that Exe- 
 cestides was his father ; a man of moderate fortune 
 and power, but of the noblest family in Athens, 
 being descended from Codrus. His mother, ac- 
 cording to Heraclides of Pontus, was cousin- 
 german to the mother of Pisistratus. This tie of 
 kindred at first united Solon and Pisistratus in a 
 very intimate friendship, which was drawn closer 
 (if we may believe some writers) by the regard 
 which the former had for the beauty and excellent 
 qualities of the latter, f Hence we may believe it 
 
 t Solon flourished about the year before Christ 
 597 . 
 
 t Pisistratus was remarkably courteous, affable, 
 and liberal. He had always two or three slaves 
 near him with bags of silver coin : when he saw 
 any man look sickly, or heard that any died in- 
 
 was, that when they differed afterwards about 
 matters of state, this dissension broke notout into 
 any harsh or ungenerous treatment of each other ; 
 but their first union kept some hold of their 
 hearts, some sparks of the flame still remained, 
 and the tenderness of former friendship was not 
 quite forgotten. . . . 
 
 Solon’s father having hurt his fortune, § as Her- 
 
 solvent, he relieved the one, and buried the 
 others, at his own expense. If he perceived 
 people melancholy, he inquired the cause ; and if 
 he found it was poverty, he furnished them with 
 what might enable them to get bread, but not to 
 live idly. Nay, he left even his gardens and 
 orchards open, and the fruit free to the citizens. 
 His looks were easy and sedate, his language soft 
 and modest. In short, if his virtues had been 
 genuine, and not dissembled, with a view to the 
 tyranny of Athens, he would (as Solon told him) 
 have been the best citizen in it. 
 
 § Aristotle reckons Solon himself among the 
 inferior citizens, and quotes his own works to 
 
6o 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIFTS . 
 
 mippus tells us, by indulging his great and munifi- 
 cent spirit, though the son might have been sup- 
 ported by his friends, yet as he was of a. family 
 that had long been assisting to others, he was 
 ashamed to accept of assistance himself; and 
 therefore in his younger years applied himself to 
 merchandise. Some, however, say that he 
 travelled rather to gratify his curiosity and extend 
 his knowledge than to raise an estate. For he 
 professed his love of wisdom, and when far ad- 
 vanced in years made this declaration, “I grow 
 old in the pursuit of learning.” He was not too 
 much attached to wealth, as we may gather from 
 the following verses : 
 
 The man that boasts of golden stores, 
 
 Of grain that loads his bending floors. 
 
 Of fields with fresh’ning herbage green. 
 Where bounding steeds and herds are seen, 
 
 I call not happier than the swain 
 
 Whose limbs are sound, whose food is plain. 
 
 Whose joys a blooming wife endears. 
 
 Whose hours a smiling offspring cheers.* 
 
 Yet in another place he says : 
 
 The flow of riches, though desired. 
 
 Life’s real goods, if well acquired. 
 Unjustly let me never gain. 
 
 Lest vengeance follow in their train. 
 Indeed, a good man, a valuable member of 
 society, should neither set his heart upon super- 
 fluities, nor reject the use of what is necessary 
 and convenient. And in those times, as Hesiod f 
 informs us, no business was looked upon as a dis- 
 paragement, nor did any trade cause a disadvan- 
 tageous distinction. The profession of merchan- 
 dise was honourable, as it brought home the 
 produce^ of barbarous countries, engaged the 
 friendship of kings, and opened a wide field of 
 knowledge and experience. Nay, some merchants 
 have been founders of great cities ; Protus, for 
 instance, that built Marseilles, for whom the 
 Gauls about the Rhone had the highest esteem. 
 Thales also, and Hippocrates the mathematician, 
 are said to have had their share in commerce ; 
 and the oil that Plato disposed of in Egypt J 
 defrayed the expense of his travels. 
 
 prove it. The truth is, that Solon was never rich, 
 it may be, because he was always honest. In his 
 youth he was mightily addicted to poetry. And 
 Plato (in Timseo) says, that if he had finished all 
 his poems, and particularly the History of the 
 Atlantic Island, which he brought out of Egypt, 
 and had taken time to revise and correct them as 
 others did, neither Homer, Hesiod, nor any other 
 ancient poet, would have been more famous. It 
 is evident both from the life and writings of this 
 great man, that he was a person not only of 
 exalted virtue, but of a pleasant and agreeable 
 temper. He considered men as men ; and keep- 
 ing both their capacity for virtue, and their prone- 
 ness to evil in his view, he adapted his laws so as 
 to strengthen and support the one, and to check 
 and keep under the other. His institutions are 
 as remarkable for their sweetness and practica- 
 bility, as those of Lycurgus are for harshness and 
 forcing human nature, 
 
 * This passage of Solon’s, and another below 
 are now found among the sentences of Theognis. 
 
 t Lib. Ob. & Di. ver. 309. 
 
 i It was usual to trade into Egypt with the oil 
 of Greece and Judea. It is said in the prophet 
 
 If Solon was too expensive and luxurious in 
 his way of living, and indulged his poetical vein 
 in his description of pleasure too freely for a 
 philosopher, it is imputed to his mercantile life. 
 For as he passed through many and great dangers, 
 he might surely compensate them with a little 
 relaxation and enjoyment. But that he placed 
 himself rather in the class of the poor than the 
 rich, is evident from these lines : 
 
 For vice, tho* plenty fills her horn, 
 
 And virtue sinks in want and scorn ; 
 
 Yet never, sure, shall Solon change 
 His truth for wealth’s most easy range ! 
 
 Since virtue lives, and truth shall stand. 
 While wealth eludes the grasping hand. 
 
 He seems to have made use of his poetical talent 
 at first, not for any serious purpose, but only for 
 amusement, and to fill up his hours of leisure ; 
 but afterwards he inserted moral sentences, and 
 interwove many political transactions in his 
 poems, not for the sake of recording or remember- 
 ing them, but sometimes by way of apology for 
 his own administration, and sometimes to exhort, 
 to advise, or to censure the citizens of Athens. 
 Some are of opinion, that he attempted to put 
 his laws too in verse, and they give us this be- 
 ginning : 
 
 Supreme of gods, whose power we first address 
 This plan to honour and these laws to bless. 
 
 Like most of the sages of those times, he culti- 
 vated chiefly that part of moral philosophy which 
 treats of civil obligations. His physics were of a 
 very simple and ancient cast, as appears from the 
 following lines ; 
 
 From cloudy vapours falls the treasur’d snow, 
 And the fierce hail : from lightning’s rapid blaze 
 Springs the loud thunder — winds disturb the deep. 
 Than whose unruffled breast, no smoother scene 
 In all the works of nature ! 
 
 Upon the whole, Thale seems to have been the 
 only philosopher who then carried his speculations 
 beyond things in common use, while the rest of 
 the wise men maintained their character by rules 
 for social life. 
 
 They are reported to have met at Delphi, and 
 afterwards at Corinth upon the invitation of 
 Periander, who made provision for their entertain- 
 ment. But what contributed most to their honour 
 was their sending the tripod from one to another, 
 with an ambition to outvie each other in modesty. 
 The story is this : When some Coans were draw- 
 ing a net, certain strangers from Miletus bought 
 the draught unseen. It proved to be a golden 
 tripod, which Helen, as she sailed from Troy,^ is 
 said to have thrown in there, in compliance with 
 an ancient oracle. A dispute arising at first be- 
 tween the strangers and the fishermen about the 
 tripod, and afterwards extending itself to the 
 states to which they belonged, so as almost to 
 engage them in hostilities, the priestess of Apollo 
 took up the matter, by ordering that the wisest 
 man they could find should have the tripod. And 
 first it was sent to Thales at Miletus, the Coans 
 voluntarily presenting that to one of the M ilesians, 
 for which they would have gone to war with them 
 all. Thales^ declared that Bias was a wiser man 
 than he, so it was brought to him. He sent it to 
 
 Hosea (c. xii. v. i.) Ephraim carrieth oil into 
 Egypt.” 
 
SOLON. 
 
 6i 
 
 another, as wiser still. After making a farther 
 circuit, it came to Thaies the second time. And 
 at last, it was carried from Miletus to Thebes, 
 and dedicated to the Ismenian Apollo. Theo- 
 phrastus relates, that the tripod was tirst sent to 
 Bias at Priene ; that Bias sent it back again to 
 Thales at Miletus ; that so having passed through 
 the hands of the seven, it came round to Bias 
 again, and at last was sent to the temple of Apollo 
 at DelphL This is the most current account : 
 yet some say the present was not a tripod, but a 
 bowl sent by Crcesus ; and others, that it was a 
 cup which one Bathycles had left for that pur- 
 pose. 
 
 We have a particular account of a conversation 
 v/hich Solon had with Anacharsis,* and of another 
 he had with Ihales. Anachar^^s went to Solon's 
 house at Athens, knocked at the door, and said, 
 he was a stranger who desired to enter into en- 
 gagements of friendship and mutual hospitality 
 with him. Solon answered, “ Friendships are 
 best formed at home.” “ Ihen do you,” said 
 Anacharsis, “who are at home, make me your 
 friend, and receive me into your house.” Struck 
 with the quickness of his repartee, Solon gave 
 him a kind welcome, and kept him some time 
 with him, being then employed in public aSairs, 
 and in modelling his laws. When Anacharsis 
 knew what Solon was about, he laughed at his 
 undertaking, and at the absurdity of imagining 
 he could restrain the avarice and injustice of his 
 citizens by written laws, v/hich in all respects 
 resembled spiders' webs, and would, like the^ 
 only entangle and hold the poor and weak, while 
 the rich and powerful easily broke through them. 
 To this. Solon replied, that men keep their 
 agreements when it is an advantage to both 
 I parties not to break them ; and he would so frame 
 [ ills laws, as to make it evident to the Athenians, 
 
 I that it v/ould be more for their interest to observe 
 I than to transgress them. The event, however, 
 i showed that Anacharsis was nearer the truth in 
 ‘ h:s conjecture, than Solon was in his hope. 
 Anacharsis having seen an assembly of the people 
 at Athens, said, he was surprised at this, that in 
 Greece wise men pleaded causes, and fools deter- 
 mined them. 
 
 When Solon was entertained by Thales at Mi- 
 letus, he expressed some wonder that he did not 
 maiT>' and raise a family. To this, Thales gave 
 no immediate answer : but some days after, he 
 instructed a stranger to say, that he came from 
 Athens ten days before. Solon inquiring, what 
 
 j * The Scythians, long before the days of 
 Solon, had been celebrated for their fragalitj', 
 their temperance, and justice. Anacharsis was 
 one of these Scythians, and a prince of the blood. 
 He went to Athens about the forty-seventh 
 olympiad, that is, 590 years before Christ. His 
 good sense, his knowledge, and great e.xperience, 
 made him pass for one of the seven v/ise men 
 But the greatest and wisest men have their in- 
 I consistencies : for such it certainly was, for 
 } Anacharsis to carry the Grecian worship, the rite 
 I of Cybele, into Sc>uhia, contrary' to the laws 01 
 I his country. Though he performed those rites 
 , privately in a woody part of the country', a 
 j Scj'thiaa Imppened to see him, and acquainted 
 the king with it, who came immediately, and shot 
 him with an arrow upon the spot. Herodot. 1. 
 iv. c. 76. 
 
 news there was at Athens, the man, according to ■ 
 his instructions, said, “ None, excep-t the funeral : 
 of a young man, which was attended by the : 
 whole city. For he was the son (as they told me) 
 of a person of great honour, and of the highest 
 r^utation for virtue, who was then abroad upon 
 his travels.” “ What a miserable man is he ! ” [ 
 said Solon: “but what was his name?” “I 
 have heard his name,” answered the stranger, 
 
 “ but do not recollect it. All I remember is, that 
 i there was much talk of his wisdom and justice.” 
 
 ; Solon, whose apprehensions increased v.'ith every 
 reply, was now much disconcerted, and mentioned ; 
 his own name, asking, whether it was not Solon’s ’ 
 son that vrzs, dead. The stranger answering in ; 
 the aihrraative, he began to b^ his head, and . 
 to do and say such things as are usual to men in = 
 a transport of grief.* Then Thales, taking him 
 by ike hand, said, with a smile, “These things, 
 which strike down so firm a man as Solon, kept 
 me from marriage and from having children. i 
 But take courage, my good friend, for not a word ; 
 of what has been told you is true.” Hermippus ^ 
 says, he took this story from Patscus, who used 
 to boast he had the soul of j®sop. I 
 
 But after all, to neglect the procuring of what ! 
 is necessary or convenient in life, for fear of losing 
 it, would be acting a very mean and absurd part ; . 
 by the same rule a man might refuse the enjoy- 
 ment of riches, or honour, or wisdom, because it i 
 is possible for him to be deprived of them. Even ! 
 the e.Tceilent qualities of the mind, the most = 
 valuable aud pleasing possession in the world, we J 
 see destroy'ed by poisonous drugs, or by the - 
 violence of some disease. Nay, Thales himself ' 
 could not be secure from fears, by living single, ■ 
 unless he would renounce all interest in his 
 friends, his relations, and his country. Instead 
 of that, however, he is said to have adopted bis 
 sister’s son, named Cj'bisthus, Indeed, the scul 
 has not only a principle of sense, of understand- 
 ing, of memory, but of love ; and when it has 
 nothing at home to fix its afrection upon, it unites 
 itself, and cleaves to something abroad. Strangers, i 
 -»r persons of spurious birth often insinuate them- J 
 selves into such a man's heart, as into a house or | 
 land that has no lawful heirs, and, together with i 
 love, bring a train of cares and apprehensions for ! 
 them. It is not uncommon to hear persons of a 
 morose temper, who talk against marriage and 
 a family, uttering the most abject complaints, 
 when a child which they have had by a slave or 
 a concubine, happens to sicken or die. Nay, 
 some have expressed a very great regret upon i 
 the death of dogs and horses ; whilst others have | 
 borne the loss of valuable children, without any ! 
 aSiction, or at least without any indecent sorrow, • 
 and have passed the rest of their days with calm- 
 ness and composure. It is certainly weakness, 
 not affection, which brings infinite troubles and 
 fears upon men who are not fortified by reason 
 against the power of fortune ; who have no enjoy- 
 ment of a present good, because of their appre- 
 hensions, and the real anguish they find in . 
 considering, that, in time, they may be deprived 
 of it. No man, surely, should t^e refuge in 
 
 * Whether on this occasion, or on the real loss 
 of a son, is uncertain, Solon being desired not 
 to weep, since weeping would avail nothing; he 
 an5^vered, with much humanitj' and good sense, 
 
 “ And for this cause I weep.” 
 
62 PLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 poverty, to guard against the loss of an estate ; 
 nor remain in the unsocial state of celibacy, that 
 he may have neither friends nor children to lose ; 
 he should be armed by reason against all events. 
 But, perhaps, we have been too diffuse in these 
 sentiments. 
 
 When the Athenians, tired out with a long 
 and troublesome war against the Megarensians 
 for the isle of Salamis, made a law, that no one 
 for the future, under pain of death, should, either 
 by speech or writing, propose that the city should 
 assert its claim to that island ; Solon was very 
 uneasy at so dishonourable a decree, and seeing 
 great part of the youth desirous^ to begin the 
 war again, being restrained from, it only by fear 
 of the law, he feigned himself insane ; * and a 
 report spread from his house into the city, that he 
 was out of his senses. Privately, however, he had 
 composed an elegy, and got it by heart, in order 
 to repeat it in public ; thus prepared, he sallied 
 out unexpectedly into the market-place, with a 
 cap upon his head.t A great number of people 
 flocking about him there, he got upon the herald s 
 stone, and sung the elegy which begins thus : 
 
 Hear and attend : from Salamis I came 
 
 To show your error. 
 
 This composition is entitled SaJamiSy and con- 
 sists of a hundred very beautiful lines. When 
 Solon had done, his friends began to express their 
 admiration, and Pisistratus, in particular, exerted 
 himself in persuading the people to comply with 
 his directions ; whereupon they repealed the law, 
 once more undertook the war, and invested Solon 
 with the command, The common account of his 
 proceedings is this : He sailed with Pisistratus 
 to Colias, and having seized the women, who, 
 according to the custom of the country, wer^ 
 offering sacrifice Ceres there, he sent a trusty 
 person to Salamis, who was to pretend he was 
 a deserter, and to advise the Megarensians, if 
 they had a mind to, seize the principal Athenian 
 ; matrons, to set sail immediately for Colias. The 
 Megarensians readily embracing the proposal, 
 and sending out a body of men, Solon discovered 
 the ship as it put off from the island ; and causing 
 the women directly to withdraw, ordered a number 
 of young men, whose faces were yet smooth, to 
 dress themselves in their habits, caps, and shoes. 
 Thus, with weapons concealed under their clothes, 
 they were to dance, and play by the sea-side till 
 the enemy was landed, and the vessel near enough 
 to be seized. Matters being thus ordered, the 
 Megarensians were deceived with the appearance, 
 and ran confusedly on shore, striving which should 
 first lay hold on the women. But they met with 
 so warm a reception, that they were cut off to a 
 man ; and the Athenians embarking immediately 
 for Salamis, took possession of the island. 
 
 * When the Athenians were delivered from 
 their fears by the death of Epaminondas, they 
 began to squander away upon shows and plays 
 the money that had been assigned for the pay 
 o.f the army and navy, and at the same time they 
 made it death for any one to propose a reforma- 
 tion. In that case, Demosthenes did not, like 
 Solon, attack their error, under a pretence of 
 insanity, but boldly and resolutely spoke against 
 it, and by the force of his eloquence brought 
 them to correct it. 
 
 t None wore caps but the sick. 
 
 Others deny that it was recovered _ in this 
 manner, and tell us, that Apollo, being first 
 consulted at Delphi, gave this answer : 
 
 Go, first propitiate the country’s chiefs 
 Hid in ^sopus’ lap, who, when interr'd. 
 
 Fac’d the declining sun. 
 
 Upon this, Solon crossed^ the sea by night, and 
 offered sacrifices in Salamis, to the heroes Peri- 
 phemus and Cichreus. Then taking 500 Athenian 
 volunteers, who had obtained a decree that, if 
 they conquered the island, the *govepment of it 
 should be invested in them, he sailed with a 
 number of fishing vessels and one galley of thirty 
 oars for Salamis, where he cast anchor at a point 
 which looks towards Euboea. 
 
 The Megarensians that were in the place, hav- 
 ing heard a confused report of what had happened, 
 betook themselves in a disorderly manner to arms, 
 'and sent a ship to discover the enemy. As the 
 ship approached too near, Solon took it, and se- 
 curing the crew, put in their place ’Some of the 
 bravest of the Athenians, with orders to make the 
 best of their way to the city, as privately as pos- 
 sible. In the mean time, with the rest of his men, 
 he attacked the Megarensians by land ; and while 
 these were engaged, those from the ship took the 
 city. A custom which obtained afterwards, seems 
 to bear witness to the truth of this account. For 
 an Athenian ship, once a year, passed silently to 
 Salamis, and the inhabitants coming down upon 
 ; it with noise and tumult, one man in armour 
 ■ leaped ashore, and ran shouting towards the pro- 
 montory of Sciradium, to meet those that were 
 advancing by land. Near that/place is a temple 
 of Mars, erected by Solon ; for there it was that 
 he defeated the Megarensians, and di.smissed 
 vupon certain conditions, such as were not slain in 
 battle. 
 
 However, the people of Megara persisted m 
 their claim till both sides had severely felt the 
 calamities of war, and then they referred the 
 affair to the decision of the Lacedsemonians. 
 Many authors relate that Solon availed himself 
 of a passage in Homer’s catalogue of ships, which 
 he aUeged before the arbitrators, dexterously in- 
 serting a line of his own ; for to this verse — 
 
 Ajax from Salamis twelve ships commands, 
 he is said to have added — 
 
 And ranks his forces with the Athenian power.* 
 But the Athenians look upon this as an idle story, 
 and tell us, that Solon made it appear to the 
 judges, that Philaeus and Eurysaces, sons of Ajax, 
 being admitted by the Athenians to the freedom 
 of their city, gave up the island to them, and re- 
 moved, the one to Brauron, and the other to 
 Melite in Attica : likewise, that the tribe of the 
 Philaidse, of v/hich Pisistratus was, had its name 
 from that Philseus. He brought another argu- 
 ment against the Megarensians, from the manner 
 of burying in Salamis, which was agreeable to the 
 custom of Athens, and not to that of Megara ; for 
 the Megarensians inter the dead with their faces 
 to the east, and the Athenians turn theirs to the 
 west. On the other hand, Hereas of Megara in- 
 sists, that the Megarensians likewise turn the” 
 
 * This line could be no sufficient evidence ; for 
 there are many passages in Homer which prove 
 that the ships of Ajax were stationed near the 
 Thessalians. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 63 
 
 faces of the dead to the west ; and, what is more, 
 that, like the people of Salamis, they put three or 
 four corpses in one tomb, whereas the Athenians 
 have a separate tomb for each. But Solon’s cause 
 was farther assisted by certain oracles of Apollo, 
 in which the island was called Ionian Salamis. 
 This matter was determined by five Spartans : 
 Critolaides, Amompharetus, Hypsechidas, Anax- 
 ilas, and Cleomenes. 
 
 Solon acquired considerable honour and author- 
 ity in Athens by this affair ; but he was much 
 more celebrated among the Greeks in general, 
 for negotiating succours for the temple at Delphi, 
 against the insolent and injurious behaviour of 
 the Cirrhaeans,* * and persuading the Greeks to 
 arm for the honour of the god. At his motion it 
 was that the Amphictyofts declared war ; as 
 Aristotle, among others, testifies, in his book con- 
 cerning the Pythian games, where he attributes 
 that deciee to Solon. He was not, however, ap- 
 pointed general in that war, as Hermippus relates 
 from Euanthes the Samian. For ^schines the 
 orator says no such thing ; and we find in the 
 records of Delphi, that Alcmaeon, not Solon, com- 
 manded the Athenians on that occasion. 
 
 The execrable proceedings against the ac- 
 complices of Cylont had long occasioned great 
 
 * The inhabitants of Cirrha, a town seated in 
 the bay of Corinth, after having by repeated in- 
 cursions wasted the territory of Delphi, besieged 
 the city itself, from a desire of making themselves 
 masters of the riches contained in the temple of 
 Apollo. Advice of this being sent to the Ampkzc- 
 tyonsy who were the states general of Greece, 
 Solon advised that this matter should be univer- 
 sally resented. Accordingly, Clysthenes, tyrant 
 of Sicyon, was sent commander in chief against 
 the Cirrhaeans ; Alcmaeon was general of the 
 Athenian quota ; and Solon went as counsellor or 
 assistant to Clysthenes. When the Greek army 
 had besieged Cirrha some time without any great 
 appearance of success, Apollo was consulted, who 
 answered, that they should not be able to reduce 
 the place, till the waves of the Cirrhsean sea 
 washed the territories of Delphi. This answer 
 struck the army with surprise, from which Solon 
 extricated them by advising Clysthenes to con- 
 secrate the whole territories of Cirrha to the 
 Delphic Apollo, whence it would follow that the 
 sea must wash the sacred coast. Pausanias (in 
 Phocicis) mentions another stratagem, which was 
 not worthy of the justice of Solon. Cirrha, how- 
 ever, was taken, and became henceforth the arsenal 
 of Delphi. 
 
 t There was, for a long time after the democracy 
 took place, a strong party against it, who left no 
 measures untried, in order, if possible, to restore 
 their ancient form of government. Cylon, a man 
 of quality, and son-in-law to Theagenes, tyrant of 
 hlegara, repined at the sudden change of the 
 magistrates, and hated the thoughts of asking 
 that as a favour, which he apprehended to be due 
 to his birthright. He formed, therefore, a design 
 to seize the citadel, which he put in practice in the 
 forty-fifth olympiad, when many of the citizens 
 were gone to the Olympic games. Megacles, who 
 was at that time chief archon, with the other 
 magistrates and the whole power of Athens, im- 
 mediately besieged the conspirators there, and 
 reduced them to such distress, that Cylon and 
 ms brother fled, and left the meaner sort to shift 
 
 troubles in the Athenian state. The conspirators 
 had taken sanctuary in Minerva’s temple ; but 
 Megacles, then Archon, persuaded them to quit 
 it, and stand trial, under the notion that if they 
 tied a thread to the shrine of the goddess, and 
 kept hold of it, they would still be under her pro- 
 tection. But when they came over against the 
 temple of the furies, the thread broke of itself; 
 upon which Megacles and his colleagues rushed 
 upon them and seized them, as if they had lost 
 their privilege. Such as were out of the temple 
 were stoned ; those that fled to the altars were 
 cut in pieces there ; and they only were spared 
 who made application to the wives of the magis- 
 trates. From that time, those magistrates were 
 called execrable^ and became objects of the public 
 hatred. The remains of Cylon’s faction after- 
 wards recovered strength, and kept up the quarrel 
 with the descendants of Megacles. The dispute 
 was greater than ever, and the two parties more 
 exasperated, when Solon, whose authority was 
 now very great, and others of the principal Athe- 
 nians, interposed, and by entreaties and argu- 
 ments persuaded the persons called execrable to 
 submit to justice and a fair trial, before 300 
 judges selected from the nobility. Myron, of the 
 Phyletisiazi ward, carried on the impeachm.ent, 
 and they were condemned : as many as were 
 alive were driven into exile, and the bodies of the 
 dead dug up and cast out beyond the borders of 
 Attica. Amidst these disturbances, the Mega- 
 rensians renev/ed the war, took Nisse from the 
 Athenians, and recovered Salamis once more. 
 
 About this time the city was likewise afflicted 
 with superstitious fears and strange appearances : 
 and the soothsayers declared, that there were cer- 
 tain abominable crimes which wanted expiation, 
 pointed out by the entrails of the victims. Upon 
 this they sent to Crete for Epimenides the Phoes- 
 tianp" who is reckoned the seventh among the 
 wise men, by those that do not admit Peiiander 
 into the number. He was reputed a man of great 
 piety, beloved by the gods, and skilled in matters 
 of religion, particularly in what related to inspira- 
 
 for themselves. Such as escaped the sword, took 
 refuge, as Plutarch relates, in Minerva’s temple ; 
 and though they deser\^ed death for conspiring 
 against the government, yet, as the magistrates 
 put them to death in breach of the privilege of 
 sanctuary, they brought upon themselves the in- 
 dignation of the superstitious Athenians, who 
 deemed such a breach a greater crime than 
 treason. 
 
 * This Epimenides was a very extraordinary 
 person. Diogenes Laertius tells us, that he was 
 the inventor of the art of lustrating or purifying 
 houses, fields, and persons ; which, if spoken of 
 Greece, may be true ; but Moses had long before 
 taught the Hebrews something of this nature. 
 (Vide Levit. xvi.) Epimenides took some sheep 
 that were all black, and others that were all white ; 
 these he led into the Areopagus, and turning them 
 loose, directed certain persons to follow them, who 
 should mark where they couched, and there sacri- 
 fice them to the local deity. This being done, 
 altars were erected in all these places, to per- 
 petuate the memory of this solemn expiation. 
 There were, however, other ceremonies practised 
 for the jjurpose of lustration, of which Tzetzes, in 
 his poetical chronicle, gives a particular account, 
 but which are too trifling to be mentioned here. 
 
64 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 tion and the sacred mysteries : therefore the men 
 of those days called him the son of the nymph 
 Balte, and one of the Curetes revived. When he 
 arrived at Athens, he contracted a friendship with 
 Solon, and privately gave him considerable assist- 
 ance, preparing the way for the reception of his 
 j laws. For he taught the Athenians to be more 
 1 frugal in their religious worship, and more 
 ! moderate in their mourning, by intermixing cer- 
 ! tain sacrifices with the funeral solenmities, and 
 abolishing the cruel and barbarous customs that 
 had generally prevailed among the women before. 
 \Vhat is of still greater consequence, by expia- 
 tions, lustrations, and the erecting of temples and 
 shrines, he hallowed and purified the city, and 
 made the people more observant of justice and 
 more inclined to union. 
 
 When he had seen LIunychia, and considered 
 it some time, he is reported to have said to those 
 about him,* “ How blind is man to futurity ! If 
 the Athenians could foresee what trouble that 
 place will give them, they w^ould tear it in pieces 
 wdth their teeth, rather than it should stand.’^ 
 Something similar to this is related of Thales. 
 For he ordered the Milesians to bury him in a 
 certain refuse and neglected place, and foretold 
 at the same time, that their market-place would 
 one day stand there. As for Epimenides, he w'as 
 held in admiration at Athens ; great honours w^ere 
 1 paid him, and many valuable presents made : yet 
 i he w’ould accept of nothing but a branch of the 
 sacred olive, which they gave him at his request ; 
 and with that he departed. 
 
 When the troubles about Cylon’s afifalr were 
 over, and the sacrilegious persons removed, in the 
 manner we have mentioned, the Athenians re- 
 lapsed into their old disputes concerning the 
 government ; for there were as many parties 
 among them as there were different tracts of land 
 in their countr3’’. The inhabitants of the moun- 
 tainous part were, it seems, for a democracy; 
 those of the plains, for an oligarchy ; and those 
 of the sea coasts contending for a mixed kind of 
 government, hindered tne other tv/o from gaining 
 their point. At the same time, the inequality 
 between the poor and the rich occasioned the 
 greatest discord, and the state was in so dangerous 
 a situation, that there seemed to be no way to 
 quell the seditious, or to save it from ruin, but 
 changing it to a monarchy. So greatly were the 
 poor in debt to the rich, that they were obliged 
 either to pay them a sixth part of the produce of 
 the land (whence they were called Hectemorii 
 and Thetei) or else to engage their persons to 
 their creditors, who might seize them on failure 
 of payment. Accordingly some made slaves of 
 them, and others sold them to foreigners. Nay, 
 some parents were forced to sell their o%vn children 
 
 * This prediction was fulfilled 270 years after, 
 when Antipater constrained the Athenians to 
 admit his garrison into that place. Besides this 
 prophecy, Epimenides uttered another during his 
 stay at Athens ; for hearing that the citizens were 
 alarmed at the progress of the Persian power at 
 sea, he advised them to make themselves easy, 
 for that the Persians would not for many years 
 attempt anything against the Greeks, and when 
 they ^d, tliey would receive greater loss them- 
 selves than they wmuld be able to bring upon the 
 states they thought to destroy. Laekt. m Vita 
 et Rimen. 
 
 (for no law forbade it), and to quit the city, to 
 avoid the severe treatment of those usurers. But 
 the greater number, and men of the most spirit, 
 agreed to stand by each other, and to bear such 
 impositions no longer. They determined to choose 
 a trusty person for their leader to deliver those 
 who had failed in their time of pajunent, to divide 
 the land, and to give an entire new face to the 
 commonweal th. 
 
 Then the most prudent of the Athenians cast 
 their eyes upon Solon, as a man least obnoxious 
 to either party, ha\dng neither been engaged in 
 oppressions with the rich, nor entangled in 
 necessities with the poor. Him, therefore, they 
 entreated to assist the public in this exigency, 
 and to compose these differences. Phanias the 
 Lesbian asserts, indeed, that Solon, to save the 
 state, dealt artfully with both parties, and privately 
 promised the poor a division of the lands, and the 
 rich a confirmation of their securities. At first he 
 was loath to take the administration upon him, 
 by reason of the avarice of some and the insolence 
 of others ; but was, however, chosen archon next 
 after Philombrotus, and at the same time arbitrator 
 and lawgiver ; the rich accepting of him readily, 
 as one of them, and the poor, as a good and 
 worthy man. They tell us too, that a saying of 
 his, which he had let fall some time before, that 
 eqziality causes no war, was then much repeated, 
 and pleased both the rich and the poor ; the latter 
 expecting to come to a balance by their numbers 
 and by the measure of divided lands, and the 
 former to preserve an equality at least by their 
 dignity and power. Thus both parties being in 
 great hopes, the heads of them were urgent with 
 Solon to make himself king, and endeavoured to 
 persuade him, that he might with better assurance 
 take upon him the direction of a city where he 
 had the supreme authority. Nay, many of the 
 citizens that leaned to neither party, seeing the 
 intended change difficult to be effected by reason 
 and law, were not against the entrusting of the 
 government to the hands of one wise and just man. 
 Some, moreover, acquaint us that he received tliis 
 oracle from Apollo : 
 
 Seize, seize the helm ; the reeling vessel guide : 
 With aiding patriots stem the raging tide. 
 
 His friends, in particular told him it would ap- 
 pear that he wanted courage, if he rejected the 
 monarchy for fear of the name of tyrant; as if . 
 the sole and supreme power would not soon be- 
 come a lawful sovereignty through the virtues of 
 him that received it. Thus formerly (said they) 
 the Eubceans set up Tynnondas and lately the 
 Mitylenseans Pittacus for their prince.* None of 
 these things moved Solon from his purpose, and 
 the answer he is said to have given his friends is 
 this, “Absolute monarchy is a fair field, but it 
 has no outlet.” And in one of his poems he thus 
 addresses himself to his friend Phocus : 
 
 * Pittacus, one of the seven wise men of Greece, 
 made himself master of Mitylene ; for which, 
 Alcaeus, who was of the same town, contemporary 
 v/ith Pittacus and, as a poet, a friend to hberty, 
 satirized him, as he did the other tyrants. Pitta- 
 cus disregarded his censures, and having by his 
 authority quelled the seditions of his citizens, and 
 established peace and harmony among them, he 
 voluntarily quitted his power, and restored his 
 country to its liberty. 
 
SOLON, 
 
 If I spar’d my country, 
 
 If gilded violence and tyrannic sway 
 
 Could never charm me?; thence no shame accrues : 
 
 Still the mild honour of my name I boast, 
 
 And find my empire there. 
 
 Whence it is evident that his reputation was very 
 gr:a.t before he appeared in the character of a 
 legislator. As for the ridicule he was exposed to 
 for rejecting kingly power, he has described it in 
 the following verses : 
 
 Nor wisdom’s palm, nor deep-laid policy 
 Can Solon boast. For when its noblest blessings 
 Heaven pour'd into his lap, he spurn’d them from 
 him. 
 
 Where was his sense and spirit, when enclos’d 
 He found the choicest prey, nor deign’d to draw 
 it? 
 
 Who to command fair Athens but one day. 
 
 Would not himself, with all his race, have fallen 
 Contented on the morrow ? 
 
 Thus he has introduced the multitude and men 
 of low minds, as discoursing about him. But 
 though he rejected absolute power, he proceeded 
 with spirit enough in the administration ; he did 
 not make any concessions in behalf of the po\ver- 
 ful, nor, in the framing of his laws did he indulge 
 the humour of his constituents. "Where the 
 former establishment was tolerable, he neither 
 applied remedies, nor used the incision-knife, lest 
 he should put the whole in disorder, and not have 
 power to settle or compose it afterwards in the 
 temperature he could wish. He only made such 
 alterations as he might bring the people to ac- 
 quiesce in by persuasion, or compel them to by 
 his authority, making (as he says) force and right 
 conspire. Hence it was, that having the question 
 afterwards put to him, whether he had provided 
 the best of laws for the Athenians, he answered, 
 ^‘The best they were capable of receiving.” And 
 as the modems observ’^e, that the Athenians used 
 to qualify the harshness of things by giving them 
 softer and politer names, calling whores mis- 
 tresses, tributes contributions, garrisons guards, 
 and prisons castles; so Solon seems to be the 
 first that distinguished the cancelling of debts by 
 the name of a discharge. For this was the first 
 of his public acts, that debts should be forgiven, 
 and that no man, for the future, should take the 
 body of his debtor for security. Though Andro- 
 tion and some others say, that it was not by the 
 cancelling of debts, but by moderating the inter- 
 est, that the poor were relieved, they thought 
 themselves so happy in it, that they gave the 
 name of discharge to this act of humanity, as well 
 as to the enlarging of measures and the value of 
 money, which went along with it. For he ordered 
 the 77iincB, which before went but for seventy- 
 three drachmas, to go for a hundred ; so that, as 
 they paid the same in value, but much less in 
 weight, those that had great sums to pay were 
 relieved, while such as received them were no 
 losers. 
 
 The greater part of writers, however, affirm, 
 that it was the abolition of past securities that 
 was called a discharge, and with these the poems 
 of Solon agree. For in them he values hims elf 
 on having taken away the marks of mortgaged 
 land,* which before were almost eveiy^vhere set 
 
 * The Athenians had a custom of fixing up bil- 
 lets, to show that houses or lands were mortgaged. 
 
 up, and made free those fields which before were 
 bound : and not only so, but of such citizens as 
 were seizable by their creditors for debt, some, he 
 tells us, he had brought back from other countries, 
 where they had wandered so long that they had 
 forgot the Attic dialect, and others he had set at 
 liberty, who had experienced a cruel slavery at 
 home. 
 
 This affair, indeed, brought upon him the great- i 
 est trouble he met with : For when he undertook I 
 the annulling of debts, and was considering of a i 
 suitable speech and a proper method of intro- | 
 ducing the business, he told some of his most j 
 intimate friends, namely Conon, Clinias, and 
 Hipponicus, that he intended only to abolish the 
 debts, and not to meddle with the lands. These 
 friends of his hastening to make their advantage 
 of the secret, before the decree took place, bor- 
 rowed large sums of the rich, and purchased 
 estates with them. Afterwards, when the decree 
 was published, they kept their possessions with- 
 out paying the money they had taken up ; which 
 brought great reflections upon Solon, as if he had 
 not been imposed upon wdth the rest, but were 
 rather an accomplice in the fraud. Tffis charge, 
 however, was soon removed, by his being the 
 first to comply with the law, and remitting a debt 
 of five talents, which he had out at interest. 
 Others, among whom is Polyzelus the Rhodian, 
 say it was fifteen talents. But his friends went 
 by the name of Chreocopidee or debt-cutters ever 
 after. 
 
 The method he took satisfied neither the poor 
 nor the rich. The latter were displeased by the 
 cancelling of their bonds ; and the former at not 
 finding a division of lands : upon this they had 
 fixed their hopes, and they complained that he 
 had not, like Lycurgus, made all the citizens 
 equal in estate. Lycurgus, however, being the 
 eleventh from Hercules, and having reigned many 
 years in Lacedaemon, had acquired great au- 
 thority, interest, and friends, of which he knew^ 
 very well how to avail himself in setting up a new 
 form of government. Yet he was obliged to have 
 recourse to force rather than persuasion, and had 
 an eye struck out in the dispute, before he could 
 bring it to a lasting settlement, and establish such 
 a union and equality, as left neither rich nor 
 poor in the city. On the other hand, Solon’s 
 estate was but moderate, not superior to that of 
 some commoners, and therefore he attempted not 
 to erect such a commonwealth as that of L3'- 
 curgus, considering it as out of his powder : he 
 proceeded as far as he thought he could be 
 supported by the confidence the people had in 
 his probity and wisdom. 
 
 That he answered not the expectations of the 
 generality, but offended them by falling short, 
 appears from these verses of his : 
 
 Those eyes with joy once sparkling v/hen they 
 view’d me. 
 
 With cold oblique regard behold me now. 
 
 And a little after — 
 
 Yet w'ho but Solon 
 
 Could have spoke peace to their tumultuous 
 waves, 
 
 And not have sunk beneath them ? 
 
 But being soon .sensible of the utility of the 
 decree, they laid aside their complaints, offered a 
 public sacrifice, which they called seisacthia, or 
 the sacrifice of the discharge, and constituted 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 Solon lawgiver and superintendent of the com- 
 monwealth ; committing to him the regulation 
 not of a part only, but the whole, magistracies, 
 assemblies, courts of judicature, and senate ; and 
 leaving him to determine the qualification, num- 
 ber, and time of meeting for them all, as well as 
 to abrogate or continue the former constitutions, 
 at his pleasure. 
 
 First then, he repealed the laws of Draco, 
 except those concerning murder, because of the 
 severity of the punishments they appointed, 
 which for almost all offences were capital ; even 
 those that were convicted of idleness were to 
 suffer death, and such as stole only a few apples 
 or pot-herbs, were to be punished in the same 
 manner as sacrilegious persons and murderers. 
 Hence a saying of Demades, who lived long after, 
 was much admired, that Draco wrote his laws not 
 with ink, but with blood. And he himself being 
 asked, why he made death the punishment for 
 most offences, answered, “ Small ones deserve^it, 
 and I can find no greater for the most heinous.” 
 
 In the next place, Solon took an estimate of the 
 estates of the citizens ; intending to leave the 
 great offices in the hands of the rich, but to give 
 the rest of the people a share in other depart- 
 ments which they had not before. Such as had a 
 yearly income of 500 measures in wet and dry 
 goods, he place'd in the first rank, and called them 
 Pentacosioi 7 iedi 7 nni : The second consisted of 
 
 * Draco was archon in the second, though some 
 say in the last year of the thirty-ninth olympiad, 
 about the year before Christ 623. Though the 
 name of this great man occurs frequently in his- 
 tory, yet we nowhere find so much as ten lines 
 together concerning him and his institutions. 
 He may be considered as the first legislator of 
 the Athenians ; for the laws, or rather precepts, 
 of Triptolemus were very few, viz. “ Honour your 
 parents ; worship the gods ; hurt not animals ; 
 Draco was the first of the Greeks that punished 
 idolatry with death and he esteemed murder so 
 high a crime, that to imprint a deep abhorrence 
 of it in the minds of men, he ordained that 
 process should be carried on even against inani- 
 mate things, if they accidentally caused the 
 death of any person. But besides murder and 
 adultery, which deserved death, he made a 
 number of small offences capital ; and that 
 brought almost all his laws into disuse. The 
 extravagant severity of them, like an edge too 
 finely ground, hindered his thesmoi, as he called 
 them, from striking deep. Porphyry (de absti- 
 nent) has preserved one of them concerning 
 divine worship, “It is an everlasting law in 
 Attica, that the gods are to be worshipped, and 
 the heroes also, according to the customs ot our 
 ancestors, and in private only with a^ proper 
 address, first fruits, and annual libations.’ 
 
 I The P ejttacosiomediinni paid a talent to the 
 public treasury; the Hippodatelountes, as the 
 word signifies, were obliged to find a hope, and 
 to serve as cavalry in the wars ; the Zeugitcs were 
 so called, as being a middle rank between the 
 knights and those of the lowest order (for rowers 
 who have the middle bench between the Thalamites 
 and the Thranites, are called Zeugitce) ; and 
 though the Thetes had barely each a vote in the 
 general assemblies, yet that (as Plutarch observes) 
 appeared in time to be a great privilege, most 
 causes being brought by appeal before the people. 
 
 those that could keep a horse, or whose lands 
 produced 300 measures ; these were of the eqties- 
 trian order, and called Hippodateloiaites. And 
 those of the tljird class, who had but 200 measures, 
 were called Zeugitce. The rest were named 
 Thetes, and not admitted to any office : they had 
 only a right to appear and give their vote in the 
 general assembly of the people. This seemed at 
 first but a slight privilege, but afterwards showed 
 itself a matter of great importance : for most 
 causes came at last to be decided by them ; and 
 in such matters as were under the cognizance of 
 the magistrates there lay an appeal to the people. 
 Besides, he is said to have drawn up his laws in 
 an obscure and ambiguous manner, on purpose to 
 enlarge the authority of the popular tribunal. 
 For as they could not adjust their difference by 
 the letter of the law, they were obliged to have 
 recourse to living judges ; I mean the whole body 
 of citizens, who therefore had all _ controversies 
 brought before them, and were in a manner 
 superior to the laws. Of this equality he himself 
 takes notice in these words ; 
 
 By me the people held their native rights^ 
 Uninjur’d, unoppress’d— The great restrain’d 
 From lawless violence, and the poor from rapine. 
 By me, their mutual shield. 
 
 Desirous yet farther to strengthen the common 
 people, he empowered any man whatever to enter 
 an action for one that was injured. If a_ person 
 was assaulted or suffered damage or violence, 
 another that was able and willing to do it, might 
 prosecute the offender. Thus the lawgiver wisely 
 accustomed the citizens, as members of one body, 
 to feel and to resent one another’s injuries. And 
 V e are told of a saying of his agreeable to this 
 law : being asked, what city was best modelled, 
 he answered, “That, where those who are not 
 injured are no less ready to prosecute and punish 
 offenders than those who are.” . . , , 
 
 When these points were adjusted, he established 
 the council of the areopagus,* which was to con- 
 sist of such as had borne the office of archon, \ 
 
 * The court of areopagus, though settled long 
 before, had lost much of its power by Draco’s 
 preferring the ephetse. In ancient times, and till 
 Solon became legislator, it consisted of such 
 persons as were most conspicuous in the state for 
 their wealth, power, and probity; but Solon 
 made it a rule that such only should have a seat 
 in it as had borne the office of archon. This had 
 the effect he designed, it raised the reputation of 
 the areopagites very high, and rendered their 
 decrees so venerable, that none contested or re- 
 pined at them through a long course of ages. 
 
 t After the extinction of the race of the Medon- 
 tidae, the Athenians made the office of archo 7 i 
 annual ; and instead of one, they created nine 
 archo7ts. By the latter expedient, they provided 
 against the too great power of a single person, as 
 by the former they took away all apprehension of 
 the archons setting up for sovereigns, f 
 word, they attained now what they had long 
 sought, the making their supreme magistrates 
 dependent on the people. This remarkable sera 
 of the completion of the Athenian democracy was, 
 according to the Mar 77 iora, in the fipt year of the 
 twenty-fourth olympiad, before Christ 684. That 
 these magistrates might, however, retain sufficient 
 authority and dignity, they had high titles and 
 
SOLON. 
 
 67 
 
 and himself was one of the number. But observ- 
 ing that the people, now discharged from their 
 debts, grew insolent and imperious, he proceeded 
 to constitute another council or senate, of 400,* * 
 100 out of each tribe, by whom all affairs were to 
 be previously considered ; and ordered that no 
 matter, without their approbation, should be laid 
 before the general assembly. In the mean time 
 the high court of the areopagus were to be the 
 inspectors and guardians of the laws. Thus he 
 supposed the commonwealth, secured by two 
 councils, as by two anchors, would be less liable 
 to be shaken by tumults, and the people would 
 become more orderly and peaceable. Most writers, 
 as we have observed, affirm that the council of 
 the areopagtcs was of Solon’s appointing : and it 
 seems greatly to confirm their assertion, that 
 Draco has made no mention of the areopagites, 
 but in capital causes constantly addresses himself 
 to the ephetcB : yet the eighth law of Solon’s 
 thirteenth table is set down in these very words, 
 “ Whoever were declared infamous before Solon’s 
 archonship, let them be restored in honpur, except 
 such as having been condemned in the hreopagus, 
 or by the ephet^.^ or by the kings in the Pry- 
 taneum, for murder or robbery, or attempting to 
 usurp the government, had fled their country 
 before this law was made.” This, on the contrary, 
 shows that before Solon was chief magistrate and 
 delivered his laws, the council of the areopagus 
 was in being. For who could have been con- 
 demned in the areopagus before Solon’s time, if 
 he was the first that erected it into a court of 
 judicature ? Unless, perhaps, there be some 
 obscurity or deficiency in the text, and the mean- 
 ing be, that such as have been convicted of crimes 
 that are now cognizable before the areopagites, 
 the ephetcB,'\ and prytanes, shall continue in- 
 
 great honours annexed to their offices. The first 
 was styled by way of eminence TIte arckon, and 
 the year was distinguished by his name. The 
 second was called Basile 7 is, that is khig ; for 
 they chose to have that title considered as a 
 secondary one. This officer had the care of 
 religion. The third had the name of Polemarch, 
 for war was his particular province. The other 
 six had the title of Thesi 7 iothetcBf and were con- 
 sidered as the guardians of their laws. These 
 archoTts continued till the time of the emperor 
 Callienus. 
 
 * The number of tribes was increased by Calis- 
 thenes to ten, after he had driven out the Pisistra- 
 tidae; and then this senate consisted of five 
 hundred, fifty being chosen out of each tribe, 
 lowards the close of the year the president of 
 each tribe gave in a list of candidates, out of 
 whom the senators were elected by lot. The 
 senators then appointed the officers called pry- 
 tanes. The prytajies, while the senate consisted 
 Df five hundred, were fifty in number ; and, for 
 :he avoiding of confusion, ten of these presided a 
 veek, during which space they were called prcedri, 
 ind out of them an epistates or president was 
 ffiosen, whose office lasted but one day. 
 
 t The ephetce were first appointed in the reign 
 )f Demophon, the son of Theseus, for the trying 
 )f wilful murders and cases of manslaughter, 
 they consisted at first of fifty Athenians and as 
 nany Argives : but Draco excluded the Argives, 
 ind ordered that it should be composed of fifty- 
 >ne Athenians, who were all to be turned of fifty 
 
 famous, whilst others are restored. But this I 
 submit to the judgment of the reader. 
 
 The most peculiar and surprising of his other 
 laws, is that which declares the man infamous 
 who stands neuter in the time of sedition.* It 
 seems he would not have us be indifferent and 
 unaffected with the fate of the public, when our 
 own concerns are upon a safe bottom ; nor when 
 we^re in health, be insensible to the distempers 
 and griefs of our country. He would have us 
 espouse the better and juster cause, and hazard 
 everything in defence of it, rather than wait in 
 safety to see which side the victory will incline to. 
 That law, too, seems quite ridiculous and absurd, 
 which permits a rich heiress, whose husband 
 happens to be impotent, to console herself with 
 his nearest relations. Yet some say, this law was 
 very properly levelled against those, who, con- 
 scious of their own inability, match with heiresses 
 for the sake of the portion, and under colour of 
 law do violence to nature. For when they know 
 that such heiresses may make choice of others to 
 grant their favours to, they will either let those 
 matches alone, or if they do marry in that manner, 
 they must suffer the shame of their avarice and 
 dishonesty. It is right that the heiress should 
 not have liberty to choose at large but only 
 amongst her husband’s relations, that the child 
 which is born may at least belong to his kindred 
 and family. Agreeable to this is the direction, 
 that the bride and bridegroom should be- shut up 
 together and eat of the same quince ; f and that 
 the husband of an heiress should approach her at 
 least three times in a month. For, though they 
 may happen not to have children, yet it is a mark 
 of honour and regard due from a man to the 
 chastity of his wife : it removes many uneasinesses, 
 and prevents differences from proceeding to an 
 absolute breach. 
 
 In _ all other marriages, he ordered that no 
 dowries should be given : the bride was to bring 
 with her only three suits of clothes, and some 
 household stuff of small value. I For he did not 
 
 years of age. He also fixed their authority above 
 that of the a 7 'eopagites ; but Solon brought them 
 under that court, and limited their jurisdiction. 
 
 * Aulus Gellius, who has preserved the very 
 words of this law, adds, that one who so stood 
 neuter, should lose his houses, his country, and 
 estate, and be sent out an exile. Noct. Attic. 1 . 
 ii. c. 12. 
 
 Plutarch in another place condemns this law, 
 but Gellius highly commends it, and assigns this 
 reason — The wise and just, as well as the envious 
 and wicked, being obliged to choose some side, 
 matters were easily accommodated ; whereas if 
 the latter only, as is generally the case with other 
 cities, had the management of factions, they 
 would, for private reasons, be continually kept 
 up, to the great hurt, if not to the utter ruin of 
 the state. ’ 
 
 •i* The eating of the quince, which was not 
 peculiar to an heiress and her husband (for all 
 new married people eat it) implied that their dis- 
 courses ought to be pleasant to each other, that 
 fruit making the breath sweet. 
 
 t The bride brought with her an earthen pan 
 called phrogeteon, wherein barley was parched ; 
 to signify that she undertook the business of the 
 house, and would do her part towards providing 
 for the family. 
 
68 
 
 PLUTARCH'^S LIVES. 
 
 choose that marriages should be made with mer- 
 cenary or venal views, but would have that union 
 cemented by the endearment of children, and 
 every other instance of love and friendship. Nay, 
 Dionysius himself, when his mother desired to be 
 married to a young Syracusan, told her, he had, 
 indeed, by his tyranny, broke through the laws 
 of his country, but he could not break those of 
 nature, by countenancing so disproportioned* a 
 match. And surely such disorders should not be 
 tolerated in any state, nor such matches where 
 there is no equality of years, or inducements of 
 love, or probability that the end of marriage will 
 be answered. So that to an old man who marries 
 a young woman, some prudent magistrate or law- 
 giver might express himself in the words addressed 
 to Philoctetes, — 
 
 Poor soul ! how fit art thou to marry ! 
 
 And if he found a young man in the house of a 
 rich old. woman, like a partridge, growing fat in 
 his private services, he would remove him to some 
 young virgin who wanted a husband. But enough 
 of this. 
 
 That law of S'olon’s is also justly commended, 
 which forbids men to speak ill of the dead. For 
 piety requires us to consider the deceased as 
 sacred ; justice calls upon us to spare those that 
 are not in being : and good policy, to prevent the 
 perpetuating of hatred. He forbade his people 
 also to revile the living, in a temple, in a court of 
 justice, in the great assembly of the people, or at 
 the public games. He that offended in this re- 
 spect, was to pay three drachmas to the person 
 injured, and two to the public. Never to restrain 
 anger is, indeed, a proof of weakness or want of 
 breeding ; and always to guard against it very 
 difficult, and to some persons impossible. Now, 
 what is enjoined by law should be practicable, if 
 the legislator desires to punish a few to some good 
 purpose, and not many to no purpose. 
 
 His law concerning wills has likewise its merit. 
 For before his time the Athenians were not allowed 
 to dispose of their estates by will ; the houses arid 
 other substance of the deceased were to remain 
 among his relations. But he permitted any one 
 that had not children, to leave his possessions to 
 whom he pleased ; thus preferring the tie of 
 friendship to that of kindred, and choice to 
 necessity, he gave every man the full and free 
 , disposal of his own. Yet he allowed not all sorts 
 of legacies, but those only that were not extorted 
 by frenzy, the consequence of disease or poisons, 
 by imprisonment or violence, or the persuasions 
 of a wife. For he considered inducements that 
 operated against reason, as no better than force : 
 to be deceived was with him the same thing as to 
 be compelled ; and he looked upon pleasure to be 
 as great a perverter as pain.* 
 
 He regulated, moreover, the journeys of women, 
 their mournings and sacrifices, and endeavoured 
 to keep them clear of all disorder and excess. 
 They were not to go out of town with more than 
 three habits ; the provisions they carried with 
 
 * He likewise ordained that adopted persons 
 should make no will, but as soon as they had 
 children lawfully begotten, they were at liberty 
 to return into the family whence they were 
 adopted ; or if they continued in it to their death, 
 the estates reverted to the relations of the persons 
 who adopted tnem. Demosth. in Orat. Lej^tin. 
 
 them, were not to exceed the value of an obolus ; 
 their basket was not to be above a cubit high : and 
 in the night they were not to travel but in a car- 
 riage, with a torch before them. At funerals they 
 were forbidden to tear themselves,* and no hired 
 mourner was to utter lamentable notes, or to act 
 anything else that tended to excite sorrow. They 
 were not permitted to sacrifice an ox on those 
 occasions ; or to bury more than three garments 
 with the body ; or to visit any tombs beside those 
 of their own family, except at the time of inter- 
 ment. Most of these things are likewise forbidden 
 by our laws, with the addition of this circumstance, 
 that those v/ho offend in such a manner are fined 
 by the censors of the women, as giving way to 
 weak passions and childish sorrow. 
 
 As the city was filled with persons who assem- 
 bled from all parts, on account of the great security 
 in which people lived in Attica, Solon observing 
 this, and that the country withal was poor and 
 barren, and that merchants v/ho traffic by sea, do 
 not use to import their goods where they can 
 have nothipg in exchange, turned the attention 
 of the citizens to manufactures. For this purpose 
 he made a law, that no son should be obliged to 
 maintain his father, if he had not taught him a 
 trade, t As for Lycurgus, whose city was clear 
 of strangers, and whose country, according to 
 Euripides, was sufficient for twice the number of 
 inhabitants ; where there was, moreover, a mul- 
 titude of Helotes, who were not only to be kept 
 constantly employed, but to be humbled and worn 
 out by servitude ; it was right for him to set the 
 citizens free from laborious and mechanic arts, 
 and to employ them in arms, as the only art fit 
 for them to learn and exercise. But Solon, rather 
 adapting his laws to the state of his country, than 
 his country to his laws, and perceiving that the 
 soil of Attica, which hardly rewarded the hus- 
 bandman’s labour, was far from being capable of 
 maintaining a lazy multitude, ordered that trades 
 should be accounted honourable; that the council 
 of the areopagzis should examine into every man’s 
 means of subsisting, and chastise the idle. 
 
 But that law was more rigid, which (as Hera- 
 clides of Pontus informs us) excused bastards 
 from relieving their fathers. Nevertheless, the 
 man that disregards so honourable a state as 
 marriage does not take a woman for the sake of 
 children, but merely to indulge his appetite. He 
 has, therefore, his reward ; and there remains no 
 pretence for him to upbraid those children, whose 
 very birth he has made a reproach to them. 
 
 * Demosthenes (in Timocr.) recites Solon’s 
 directions as to funerals as follows: “Let the 
 dead bodies be laid out in the house, according 
 as the deceased gave order, and the day following 
 before sunrise carried forth. Whilst the body is 
 carrying to the grave let the men go before, the 
 women follow. It shall not be lawful for any 
 woman to enter upon the goods of the dead, and 
 to follow the body to the grave, under threescore 
 years of age, except such as are within the degrees 
 of cousins.” 
 
 t He that was thrice convicted of idleness, was 
 to be declared infamous. Herodotus (1. vii.) and 
 Diodorus Siculus (1. i.) agree that a law of this 
 kind was in use in Egypt. It is probable there- 
 fore that Solon, who was thoroughly acquainted 
 with the learning of that nation, borrowed it from 
 them. 
 
SOLON, 
 
 69 
 
 In truth, his laws concerning women, in general 
 appear very absurd. For he permitted any one 
 to kill an adulterer taken in the fact ; * but if a 
 man committed a rape upon a free woman, he was 
 only to be fined a hundred drachmas ; if he gained 
 his purpose by persuasion, twenty : but prostitutes 
 were excepted, because they have their price. 
 And he would not allow them to sell a daughter 
 or sister, unless she were taken in an act of dis- 
 honour before marriage. But to punish the same 
 fault sometimes in a severe and rigorous manner, 
 and sometimes lightly, and as it were in sport, 
 with a trivial fine, is not agreeable to reason : 
 unless the scarcity of money in Athens, at that 
 time, made a pecuniary mulct a heavy one. And 
 indeed, in the valuation of things for the sacrifice, 
 a sheep and a rnedimnus of corn were reckoned 
 each at a drachma only. To the victor in the 
 Isthmean games, he appointed^ a reward of 100 
 drachmas; and to the victor in the Olympian, 
 500. t He that caught a he wolf, was to have five 
 drachmas ; he that took a she wolf, one : and 
 the former sum (as Demetrius Phalereus asserts) 
 was the value of an ox, the latter of a sheep. 
 Though the prices which he fixes in his sixteenth 
 table for select victims, were probably much 
 higher than the common, yet they are small in 
 comparison of the present. The Athenians of 
 old were great enemies to wolves, because their 
 country was better for pasture than, tillage ; and 
 some say their tribes had not their names from 
 the sons of Ion, but from the different occupations, 
 they followed ; the soldiers being called hoplitce, 
 the artificers ergaedes ; and of the other two, 
 the husbandmen teleontes ; and the graziers 
 cBgicores. 
 
 As Attica was not supplied with water from 
 perennial rivers, lake.s, or springs,! but chiefly by 
 wells dug for that purpose, he made a law, that 
 where there was a public well, all within the dis- 
 tance of four furlongs should make use of it : but 
 where the distance was greater, _ they were to 
 provide a well of their own. And if they dug ten 
 fathoms deep in their own ground, and could firid 
 no water, they had liberty to fill a vessel of six 
 gallons twice a day at their neighbour's. ^ Thus 
 he thought it proper to assist persons in real 
 necessity, but not to encourage idleness. His 
 regulations with respect to the planting of trees 
 were also very judicious. He that planted any 
 tree in his field, was to place it at least five feet 
 from liis neighbour’s ground ; and if it was a fig 
 tree or an olive, nine; for these extend their 
 roots farther than others, and their neighbour- 
 hood is prejudicial to some trees, not only as they 
 take away the nourishment, but as their effluvia 
 is noxious. He that would dig a pit or a ditch. 
 
 * No adulteress was to adorn herself, or to 
 assist at the public sacrifices ; and in case she 
 did, he gave liberty to any one to tear her clothes 
 off her back, and beat her into the bargain. 
 
 t At the same time he contracted the rewards 
 bestowed upon wrestlers, esteeming such gra- 
 tuities useless and even dangerous ; as they 
 tended to encourage idleness by putting men 
 upon wasting that time in exercises which ought 
 to be spent in providing for their families. 
 
 X Strabo tells us there was a spring of fresh 
 water near the Lycaeum ; but the soil of Attica in 
 general was dry, and the rivers Ilissus and Eri- 
 damus did not run constantly. 
 
 v/as to dig it as far from another man’s ground, 
 as it was deep : and if any one would raise stocks 
 of bees, he was to place them 300 feet from those 
 already raised by another. 
 
 Of all the products of the earth, he allowed 
 none to be sold to strangers, but oil : and whoever 
 presumed to export anything else, the archon 
 was solemnly to declare him accursed, or to pay 
 himself 100 drach 7 iias into the public treasury. 
 This law is in the first table. And therefore it is 
 not absolutely improbable, what some affirm, that 
 the exportation of figs was formerly forbidden, 
 and that the informer against the delinquents was 
 called a sycophant. 
 
 He likewise enacted a law for reparation of da- 
 mage received from beasts. A dog that had bit 
 a man was to be delivered up bound to a log of 
 four cubits long ; * an agreeable contrivance for 
 security against such an animal. 
 
 But the wisdom of the law concerning^ the 
 naturalizing of foreigners, is a little dubious ; 
 because it forbids the freedom of the city to be 
 granted to any but such as are for ever exiled 
 from their own country, or transplant themselves 
 to Athens with their whole family, for the sake of 
 exercising some manual trade. This, we are 
 told, he did, not with a view to keep strangers at 
 a distance, but rather to invite them to Athens, 
 upon the sure hope of being admitted to the 
 privilege of citizens : and he imagined the settle- 
 ment of those might be entirely depended upon, 
 who had been driven from their native country, or 
 had quitted it by choice. 
 
 That law is peculiar to Solon, which regulates 
 the going to entertainments made at the public 
 charge, by him called parasitien.\ For he does 
 not allow the same person to repair to them often, 
 and he lays a penalty upon such as refuse to go 
 when invited ; looking upon the former as a mark 
 of epicurism, and the latter of contempt of the 
 public. 
 
 All his laws were to continue in force for 100 
 years, and were written upon wooden tables 
 wdiich might be turned round in the oblong cases 
 that contained them. Some small remains of 
 them are preserved in the Prytaneu 77 i to this day. 
 They were called cyrbes, as Aristotle tells us ; and 
 Cratinus, the comic poet, thus speaks of them : 
 
 By the great names of Solon and of Draco, 
 
 Whose cyrbes now but serve to boil our pulse. 
 
 Some say, those tables were properly called 
 cyrbes^ on which w^ere written the rules for re- 
 
 * This law, and several others of Solon’s, were 
 taken into the twelve tables. ^ In the consulate of 
 T. Romilius and C. Veturius, in the year of Rome 
 293, the Romans sent deputies to Athens, to 
 transcribe his laws, and those of the other law- 
 givers of Greece, in order to form thereby a body 
 of laws for Rome. 
 
 t In the first ages the name of parasite was 
 venerable and sacred, for it properly signified one 
 that was a messmate at the table of sacrifices. 
 There were in Greece several persons particularly 
 honoured with this title, much like those w'hom 
 the Romans called epulones, a religious order in- 
 stituted by Numa. Solon ordained that every 
 tribe should offer a sacrifice once a month, and at 
 the end of the sacrifice make a public entertain- 
 ment, at which all who were of that tribe should 
 be obliged to assist by turns. 
 
70 PLUTARCH'S LULLS, 
 
 ligious rites and sacrifices, and the other axones. 
 The senate, in a body, bound themselves by oath 
 to establish the laws of Solon ; and the thes^no- 
 thetcB^ ox guardians of tJie laws, severally took an 
 oath in a particular form, by the stone in the 
 market-place, that for every law they broke, each 
 would dedicate a golden statue at Delphi of the 
 same weight with himself,* 
 
 Observing the irregularity of the months, t and 
 that the moon neither rose nor set at the same 
 time with the sun, as it often happened that in 
 the same day she overtook and passed by him, he 
 ordered that day to be called /i^ne kai nea (the 
 old and the new) ; assigning the part of it before 
 the conjunction, to the old month, and the rest to 
 the beginning of the new. He seems, therefore, 
 to have been the first who understood that verse 
 in Homer, which makes mention of a day where- 
 in the old month ended, and the new began. t 
 The day following he called the new moon. 
 After the twentieth he counted not by adding, but 
 subtracting, to the thirtieth, according to the de- 
 creasing phases of the moon. 
 
 ^Vhen his laws took place, § Solon had his 
 
 visitors every day, finding fault with some of 
 them, and commending others, or advising him to 
 make certain additions, or retrenchments. But 
 the greater part came to desire a reason for this, or 
 that article, or a clear and precise explication of 
 the meaning and design. Sensible that he could 
 not well excuse himself irom complying with their 
 desires, and that, if he indulged their importunity, 
 the doing it might give offence, he determined to 
 withdraw from the difficulty, and to get rid at 
 once of their cavils and exceptions. For, as he 
 himself observes — 
 
 Not all the greatest enterprise can please. 
 Under pretence, therefore, of traffic he set sail for 
 another country, having obtained leave of the 
 Athenians for ten years’ absence. In that time he 
 hoped his laws would become familiar to them. 
 
 His first voyage was to Egypt, where he abode 
 some time, as he himself relates — 
 
 On the Canopian shore, by Nile’s deep mouth. 
 
 There he conversed upon points of philosophy 
 with Psenophis the Heliopolitan, and Senchis the 
 Saite, the most learned of the Egyptian priests ; 
 and having an account from them of the A tlaniic 
 island* (as Plato informs us), he attempted to 
 describe it to the Grecians in a poem. From 
 Egypt he sailed to Cyprus, and there was 
 honoured with the best regards of Philocyprus, 
 one of the kings of that island, who reigned over 
 a small city built by Demophon the son of 
 
 * Gold in Solon’s time was so scarce in Greece, 
 that whemSpartans were ordered by the oracle to 
 gild the face of Apollo’s statue, they inquired in 
 vain for gold all over Greece, and were directed 
 by the pythoness to buy some of Croesus, king of 
 Lydia. 
 
 t Solon discovered the falseness of Thales’s 
 maxim, that the moon performed her revolution 
 in thirty days, and found that the true time was 
 twenty-nine days and a half. He directed, there- 
 fore, that each of the twelve months should be 
 accounted twenty-nine or thirty da^’-s alternately. 
 By this means a lunar year was formed, of 354 
 days ; and to reconcile it to the solar year, he 
 ordered a month of twenty-two days to be inter- 
 calated every two years, and at the end of the 
 second two years, he directed that a month of 
 twenty-three days should be intercalated. He 
 likewise engaged the Athenians to divide their 
 months into three parts, styled the beginning, 
 7 uiddling, and ending; each of these consisted of 
 ten days, when the month was thirty days long, 
 and the last of nine, when it was nine and twenty 
 days long. In speaking of the two first parts, 
 they reckoned according to the usual order of 
 numbers, viz. the first, etc. day of the moon 
 beginning; the first, second, etc. of the moon 
 middling ; but with respect to the last part of the 
 month, they reckoned backwards, that is, instead 
 of saying the first, second, etc., day of the moon 
 ending, they said the tenth, ninth, etc., of the 
 moon ending. This is a circumstance which 
 should be carefully attended to. 
 
 X Odyss. xiv. 162. 
 
 § Plutarch has only mentioned such of Solon’s 
 laws as he thought the most singular and remark- 
 able : Diogenes, Laertius, and Demosthenes, 
 have given us account of some others that ought 
 not to be forgotten. — Let not the guardian live 
 in the same house with the mother of his wards. 
 Let not the tuition of minors be committed to him 
 who is next after them in the inheritance. Let 
 not an engraver keep the impression of a seal 
 which he has engraved. Let him that puts out 
 the eye of a man who has but one, lose both his 
 own. If an archon is taken in liquor, let him be 
 put to death. Let him who refuses to maintain 
 
 his father and mother, be infamous; and sb let 
 him that has consumed his patrimony. Let him 
 who refuses to go to war, flies, or behaves 
 cowardly, be debarred the precincts of the forum 
 and places of public worship. If a man surprises 
 his wife in adultery, and lives with her afterwards, 
 let him be deemed infamous. Let him who fre- 
 quents the houses of lewd women, be debarred 
 from speaking in the assemblies of the people. 
 Let a pander be pursued, and put to death if 
 taken. ^ If any man steal in the day-time, let him 
 be carried to the eleven officers ; if in the night, it 
 shall be lawful to kill him in the act, or to wound 
 him in the pursuit, and carry him to the aforesaid 
 officers : if he steals common things, let him pay 
 double, and if the convictor thinks fit, be exposed 
 in chains five days ; if he is guilty of sacrilege, let 
 him be put to death.” 
 
 * Plato finished this history from Solon’s 
 memoirs, as may be seen in his Timseus, and 
 Critias. He pretends that this Atlantis, an island 
 situated in the Atlantic Ocean, was bigger than 
 Asia and Africa, and that, notwithstanding its 
 vast extent, it was drowned in one day and night. 
 Diodorus Siculus says, the Carthaginians, who dis- 
 covered it, made it death for any one to settle in it. 
 Amidst a number of conjectures concerning it, one 
 of the most probable is, that in those days the Afri- 
 cans had some knowledge of America. Another 
 opinion, worth mentioning, is, that the Atlaii. 
 tides, or Fortunate Islands, were what we now 
 call the Canaries. Homer thus describes them : 
 
 Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime ; 
 
 The fields are florid with unfading prime. 
 
 From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow, 
 Mould the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow ; 
 But from the breezy deep the bless’d inhale 
 The fragrant murmurs of the western gale. 
 
 Pope. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 71 
 
 Theseus, near the river Clarius, in a strong situa- 
 tion indeed, but very indifferent soil. As there 
 was an agreeable plain below, Solon persuaded 
 him to build a larger and pleasanter city there, 
 and to remove the inhabitants of the other to it. 
 He also assisted in laying out the whole,^ and 
 building it in the best manner for convenience 
 and defence : so that Philocyprus in a short time 
 had it so well peopled as to excite the envy of the 
 other princes. And, therefore, though the former 
 city was called Aipeia, yet in honour of Solon, 
 he called the new one Soli. He himself speaks 
 of the building of this city, in his elegies, address- 
 ing himself to Philocyprus : 
 
 For you be long the Solian throne decreed ! 
 
 For you a race of prosperous sons succeed ! 
 
 If in those scenes to her so justly dear. 
 
 My hand a blooming city help’d to rear. 
 
 May the sweet voice of smiling Venus bless. 
 
 And speed me home with honours and success ! 
 
 As for his interview with Croesus, some pretend 
 to prove from chronology, that it is fictitious. 
 But since the story is so famous, and so well 
 attested, nay (what is more), so agreeable to 
 Solon’s character, so worthy of his wisdom and 
 magnanimity, I cannot prevail with m5?^self to 
 reject it for the sake of certain chronological 
 tables, which thousands are correcting to this 
 day, without being able to bring them to any 
 certainty. Solon, then, is said to have gone to 
 Sardis at the request of Croesus : and when he 
 came there, he was affected much in the same 
 manner as a person bom in an inland country, 
 when he first goes to see the ocean : for as he 
 takes every great river he comes to for the sea ; 
 so Solon, as he passed through the court, and 
 saw many of the nobility richly dressed, and 
 walking in great pomp amidst a crowd of attend- 
 ants and guards, took each of them for Croesus. 
 At last, when he was conducted into the presence, 
 he found the king set off with whatever can be 
 imagined curious and valuable, either in beauty 
 of colours, elegance _ of golden ornaments, or 
 splendour of jewels; in order that the grandeur 
 and variety of the scene might be as striking as 
 possible. Solon, standing over against the throne, 
 was not at all surprised, nor did he pay those 
 compliments that were expected ; on the contrary, 
 it was plain to all persons of discernment that he 
 depised such vain ostentation and littleness of 
 pride. Croesus then ordered his treasures to be 
 opened, and his magnificent apartments and 
 furniture to be shown him; but this was quite 
 a needless trouble ; for Solon in one view of the 
 king was able to read his character. When he 
 ha 4 seen ah, and was conducted back, Croesus 
 asked him, if he had ever beheld a happier man 
 than he. Solon answered, he had, and that the 
 person was one Tellus, a plain but worthy citizen 
 of Athens, who left valuable children behind him ; 
 and who, having been above the want of neces- 
 saries all his life, died gloriously fighting for his 
 country. By this time he appeared to Croesus to 
 be a strange uncouth kind of rustic, who did not 
 ineasure happiness by the quantity of gold and 
 silver, but could prefer the life and death of a 
 private and mean person to his high dignity and 
 power. However, he asked him again, whether, 
 after Tellus, he knew another happier man in the 
 world. Solon answered, *‘Yes, Cleobis and 
 Biton, famed for their brotherly affection, and 
 
 dutiful behaviour to their mother ; for the oxen 
 not being ready, they put themselves in the 
 harness, and drew their mother to Juno's temple, 
 who was extremely happy in having such sons, 
 and moved forward amidst the blessings of the 
 people. After the sacrifice, they drank a cheerful 
 cup with their friends, and then laid down to rest, 
 but rose no more ; for they died in the night 
 without sorrow or pain, in the midst of so much 
 glory.” “Well !” said CrcEsus, now highly dis- 
 pleased, “and do you not then rank us in the 
 number of happy men ? ” Solon, unwilling either 
 to flatter him, or to exasperate him more, replied, 
 “ King of Lydia, as God has given the Greeks 
 a moderate proportion of other things, so likewise 
 he has favoured them with a democratic spirit 
 and a liberal kind of wisdom, which has no taste 
 for the splendours of royalty. Moreover, the 
 vicissitudes of life suffer us not to be elated by 
 any present good fortune, or to admire that 
 felicity which is liable to change. Futurity 
 carries for every man many various and uncertain 
 events in its bosom. He, therefore, whom heaven 
 blesses with success to the last, is in our estima- 
 tion the happy man. But the happiness of him 
 who still lives, and has the dangers of life to 
 encounter, appears to us no better than that of a 
 champion before the combat is determined, and 
 while the crown is uncertain.” With these words, 
 Solon departed, leaving Croesus chagrined, but 
 not instructed. 
 
 At that time ^sop, the fabulist, was at the 
 court of Croesus, who had sent for him, and 
 caressed him not a little. He was concerned at 
 the unkind reception Solon met with, and there- 
 upon gave him this advice: “A man should 
 either not converse with kings at all, or say what 
 is agreeable to them.” To which Solon replied : 
 “Nay, but he should either not do it at all, or 
 say what is useful to them.” 
 
 Though Croesus at that time held our lawgiver 
 in contempt, yet when he was defeated in his 
 wars with C3rrus ; when his city was taken, him- 
 self made prisoner, and laid bound upon the pile 
 in order to be burned, in the presence of Cyrus 
 and all the Persians, he cried out as loud as 
 he possibly could, “Solon! Solon! Solon!” 
 Cyrus, surprised at this, sent to inquire of him, 
 “What god or man it was whom alone he thus 
 invoked under so great a calamity?” Croesus 
 answ’ered, without the least disguise, “He is one 
 of the wise men of Greece, whom I sent for, not 
 with a design to hear his wisdom, or to learn 
 what might be of service to me, but that he might 
 see and extend the reputation of that glory, the 
 loss of which I find a much greater misfortune, 
 than the possession of it was a blessing. My 
 exalted state was only an exterior advantage, the 
 happiness of opinion ; but the reverse plunges me 
 into real sufferings, and ends in misery irremedi- 
 able. This was foreseen by that great man, who, 
 forming a conjecture of the future from what he 
 then saw, advised me to consider the end of life, 
 and not to rely or grow insolent upon uncertain- 
 ties.” When this was told Cyrus, who was a 
 much wiser man than Croesus, finding Solon’s 
 maxim confirmed by an example before him, he 
 not only set Croesus at liberty, but honoured him 
 with his protection as long as he lived. Thus 
 Solon had the glory of saving the life of one of 
 these kings, and of instructing the other. 
 
 During his absence, the Athenians were much 
 
' 72 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 divided among themselves, Lycurgus being at 
 the head of the low country,* Megacles, the son 
 of Alcmaeon, of the people that lived near the 
 sea-coast, and Pisistratus of the mountaineers ; 
 among which last was a multitude of labouring 
 people, whose enmity was chiefly levelled at the 
 ^ r;ch. Hence it was, that though the city did 
 1 observe Solon’s laws, yet all expected some 
 . change, and were desirous of another establish- 
 ; rnent ; not in hopes of an equality, but with a 
 j \aew to be gainers by the alteration, and entirely 
 , to subdue those that differed from them. 
 
 While matters stood thus, Solon arrived at 
 Athens, where he was received with great respect, 
 
 I and still held in veneration by all ; but by reason 
 i of his great age he had neither the strength nor 
 spirit to act or speak in public as he had done. 
 He therefore applied in private to the heads of 
 the factions, and endeavoured to appease and 
 reconcile them. Pisistratus seemed to give him 
 greater attention than the rest; for Pisistratus 
 had an affable and engaging manner, He was a 
 liberal benefactor to the poor ; t and even to his 
 enemies he behaved with great candour. He 
 counterfeited so dexterously the good qualities 
 which nature had denied him, that he gained 
 more credit than the real possessors of them, and 
 stood foremost in the public esteem in point of 
 moderation and equity, in zeal for the present 
 government, and aversion to all that endeavoured 
 at a change. With these arts he imposed upon 
 the people : but Solon soon discovered his real 
 ch^acter, and was the first to discern his in- 
 sidious designs. Yet he did not absolutely break 
 with him, but endeavoured to soften him and 
 advise him better; declaring both to him and 
 others, that if ambition could .but be banished 
 from his soul, and he could be cured of his desire 
 of absolute power, there would not be a man 
 better disposed, or a more worthy citizen in 
 Athens. 
 
 About this time, Thespis began to change the 
 form of traged5^, and the novelty of the thing 
 attracted many spectators; for this was before 
 any prize was proposed for those that excelled in 
 this respect. Solon, \yho was always willing to 
 hear and to learn, and in his old age more inclined 
 to anything that might divert and entertain, 
 particularly to music and good fellowship, w'ent 
 to see Thespis himself exhibit, as the custom of 
 the ancient poets w^as. When the play w^as done, 
 he called to Thespis, and asked him, if he was 
 not ashamed to tell so many lies before so great 
 an assembly ? Thespis answered, it was no great 
 matter, if he .spoke or acted so in jest. To which 
 Solon replied, striking the ground violently with 
 his staff, “If we encourage such jesting as this, 
 we shall quickly find it in our contracts and 
 agreements.” 
 
 Soon after this, Pisistratus, having wounded 
 himself for the purpose, drove in that condition 
 into the market-place, and endeavoured to inflame 
 the minds of the people, by telling them, his 
 enemies had laid in wait for him, and treated him 
 in that manner on account of his patriotism. 
 Upon this, the multitude loudly expressed their 
 indignation : but Solon came up, and thus ac- 
 costed ^ him : “ Son of Hippocrates, you act 
 Homer’s Ulysses but very indifferently ; for he 
 wounded himself to deceive his enemies, but you 
 have done it to impose upon your countrymen.” 
 Notwithstanding this, the rabble were ready to 
 take up arms for him : and a general assembly of 
 the people being summoned, Ariston made a 
 motion, that a body-guard of fifty clubmen should 
 be assigned him. Solon stood up and opposed it 
 with many arguments, of the same kind with 
 those he has left us in his poems : 
 
 You hang with rapture on his honey’d tongue. 
 And again : 
 
 Your art, to public interest ever blind. 
 
 Your foxlike art still centres in yourself. 
 
 But when he saw the poor behave in a riotous 
 manner, and determined to gratify Pisistratus at 
 any rate, while the rich out of fear declined the 
 opposition, he retired with this declaration, that 
 he had shown more wisdom than the former, in 
 discerning what method should have been -taken ; 
 and more courage than the latter, who did not 
 want understanding, but spirit to oppose the 
 establishment of a tyrant. The people having 
 made the decree, did not curiously inquire into 
 the number of guards which Pisistratus employed, 
 but visibly connived at his keeping as many as he 
 pleased, till he seized the citadel. When this was 
 done, and the city in great confusion, Megacles, 
 with the rest of the Alcmseonidae, immediately 
 took to flight. But Solon, though he was now 
 very old, and had none to second him, appeared 
 in public, and addressed himself to the citizens, 
 sometimes upbraiding them with their past indis- 
 cretion and cowardice, sometimes exhorting and 
 encouraging th%m to stand up for their liberty. 
 Then it was that he spoke tho.se memorable 
 words : “It would have been easier for them to 
 repress the advances of tyranny, and prevent its 
 establishment ; but now it was established and 
 grown to some height, it would be more glorious 
 to demolish it.” However, finding that their 
 fears prevented their attention to what he said, 
 he returned to his own house, and placed Us 
 weapons at the street door, with these words : 
 “ I have done all in my power to defend my 
 country and its laws.” This was his last public 
 effort. Though some exhorted him to fly, he tqok 
 no notice of their advice, but was composed 
 enough to make verses, in which he thus re- 
 proaches the Athenians : 
 
 If fear or folly has your rights betray’d, 
 
 Let not the fault on righteous heaven be laid. 
 You gave them guards : you rais’d your tyrants 
 high 
 
 T’ impo.se the heavy yoke that draws the heav- 
 ing sigh. 
 
 Many of his friend.s, alarmed at this, told him 
 the tyrant would certainly put him to death for it, 
 and asked him, what he trusted to, that he went 
 such imprudent lengths : he answered, “To old 
 age.” However, when Pisistratus had fully es- 
 
 * These three parties into w'hich the Athenians 
 were divided, viz. the Pediai, the Parali, and 
 DIacrii, have been mentioned in this life before. 
 
 : t By the poor, w'e are not to understand such 
 
 i as asked alms, for there were none such in 
 ; Athens. ^ “ In those days,” says Isocrates, “ there 
 was no citizen that died of want, or begged in the 
 streets, to the dishonour of the community.” 
 This was owing to the laws against idleness and 
 prodigality, and the care W'hich the areopagtcs 
 took that every man should have a visible liveli- 
 : hood. 
 
 , 
 
PUBLICOLA, 
 
 73 
 
 tablished himself, he made his court to Solon, and 
 treated him with so much kindness and respect, 
 that Solon became, as it were, his counsellor, and 
 gave sanction to many of his proceedings. He 
 observed the greatest part of Solon’s laws, show- 
 ing himself the example, and obliging his friends 
 to follow it. Thus, when he was accused of 
 murder before the court of areopagus, he ap- 
 peared in a modest manner to make his defence ; 
 but his accuser dropped the impeachment. He 
 likewise added other laws, one of which wp, 
 that persons maimed in the wars should be main- 
 tained at the public charge. Yet this, Heraclides 
 tells us, was in pursuance of Solon’s plan, who 
 had decreed the same in the case of Thersippus. 
 But according to Theophrastus, Pisistratus, not 
 Solon, made the law against idleness, which pro- 
 duced at once greater industry in the country, 
 and tranquillity in the city. 
 
 Solon moreover attempted, in verse, a large 
 description, or rather fabulous account of the 
 Atlantic Island,§ * * which he had learned from the 
 wise men of Sais, and which particularly con- 
 cerned the Athenians : but by reason of his age, 
 not want of leisure (as Plato would have it), he 
 was apprehensive the work would be too much 
 for him, and therefore did not go through with it. 
 These verses are a proof that business was not the 
 hindrance : 
 
 I grow in learning as I grow in years. 
 
 * This fable imported, that the people of 
 Atlantis having subdued all Lybia, and a great 
 part of Europe, threatened Egypt and Greece ; 
 but the Athenians making head against their 
 victorious army, overthrew them in several 
 engagements, and confined them to their own 
 island. 
 
 And again : 
 
 Wine, wit, and beauty still their charms bestow. 
 Light all the shades. of life, and cheer us as we go. 
 
 Plato, ambitious to cultivate and adorn the sub- 
 ject of the Atlantic Island, as a delightful spot in 
 some fair field unoccupied, to which also he had 
 some claim by his being related to Solon, f laid 
 out magnificent courts and enclosures, and erected 
 a grand entrance to it, such as no other story, 
 fable, or poem ever had. But as he began it late, 
 he ended his life before the work ; so that the 
 more the reader is delighted with the part that is 
 'written, the more regret he has to find it unfinished. 
 As the temple of Jupiter Olympus in Athens Js 
 the only one that has not the last hand put to it, 
 so the wisdom of Plato, amongst his many excellent 
 works, has left nothing imperfect but the Atlantic 
 Island. 
 
 Heraclides Ponticus relates that Solon lived a 
 considerable time after Pisistratus usurped the 
 government ; but according to Phanias the Ephe- 
 sian, not quite two years. For Pisistratus began 
 his tyranny in the archonship of Comias, and 
 Phanias tells us, Solon died in the archonship of 
 Hegestratus, the immediate successor to Comias. 
 The story of his ashes * being scattered about the 
 Isle of Salamis, appears absurd and fabulous ; 
 and yet it is related by several authors of credit, 
 and by Aristotle in particular. 
 
 t Plato’s mother was a descendant of the brother 
 of Solon. 
 
 1; It is said by Diogenes Laertius, that this was 
 done by his own order. In thus disposing of his 
 remains, either Solon himself, or tho^e who wrote 
 his history, imitated the story of Lycurgus, who 
 I left an express order that his ashes should be 
 1 thrown into the sea. 
 
 PUBLICOLA; 
 
 Such is the character^T^Solon ; and therefore 
 with him we will compare Publicola, so called by 
 the Roman people, in acknowledgment of his 
 merit; for his paternal name was Valerius. He 
 was descended from that ancient Valerius, § who 
 was the principal author of the union between the 
 Romans and the Sabines. For he it was that 
 most effectually persuaded the two kings to come 
 to a conference, and to settle their differences. 
 From this man our Valerius deriving his extrac- 
 tion, distinguished himself by his eloquence and 
 riches, II even while Rome was yet under kingly 
 government. His eloquence he employed with 
 great propriety and spirit in defence of justice, 
 and his riches in relieving the necessitous. Hence 
 it was natural to conclude, that if the government 
 
 § The first of his family, who settled at Rome, 
 was Valerius Volesus, a Sabine ; or, as Festus 
 and the fasta Capitolini call him, Velusus. 
 
 11 Plutarch, by this, would insinuate, that 
 arbitrary power is no friend to eloquence. And 
 undoubtedly the want of liberty does depress the 
 spirit, and restrain the force of genius : whereas, 
 in republics and limited monarchies, full scope is 
 given, as well as many occasions afforded, to the 
 richest vein of oratory. 
 
 should become republican,^ his station in it would 
 soon be one of the most eminent. 
 
 When Tarquin the prated^ who had made his 
 way to the throne by the violation pf .all rights,** 
 divine and human, and then exercised his power 
 as he acquired it, when, like an oppressor and a 
 tyrant, he became odious and insupportable to 
 the people ; they took occasion to revolt, from 
 the unhappy fate of Lucretia, who killed herself 
 on account of the rape committed upon her by 
 the son of Tarquin. ft Lucius Brutus, meditating 
 
 ^ Governments, as well as other things, pushed 
 to excessive lengths, often change to the contrary 
 extreme. 
 
 ** He made use of the body of his father-in-law, 
 Servius Tullius, whom he had murdered, as a step 
 to the throne. 
 
 tt Livy tells us, that she desired her father and 
 husband to meet her at her own house. With 
 her father Lucretius came Publius Valerius, after- 
 wards Publicola, and with her husband Lucius 
 Junius Brutus, and many other Romans of dis- 
 tinction. To them she disclosed in few words the 
 whole matter, declared her firm resolution not to 
 outlive the loss of her honour, and conjured them 
 not to let the crime of Sextus Tarquinius go un- 
 
74 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 a change of government, applied to Valerius first, 
 and with his powerful assistance expelled the 
 king and his family. Indeed, while the people 
 seemed inclined to give one person the chief com- 
 mand, and to set up a general instead of a king, 
 Valerius acquiesced, and willingly yielded the 
 first place to Brutus, under whose auspices the 
 republic commenced. But when it appeared that 
 they could not bear the thought of being governed 
 by a single person, when they seemed more ready 
 to obey a divided authority, and indeed proposed 
 and demanded to have two consuls at the head 
 of the state, then he offered himself as a candidate 
 for that high office, together with Brutus, but lost 
 his election. For, contrary to Brutus’s desire, 
 Tarquinius Collatinus, the husband of Lucretia, 
 was appointed his colleague. Not that he was a 
 more worthy or able man than Valerius ; but 
 those that had the chief interest in the state, 
 apprehensive of the return of the Tarquins, who 
 made great efforts without, and endeavoured to 
 soften the resentment of the citizens within, were 
 desirous to be commanded by the most implacable 
 enemy of that house. _ 
 
 Valerius, taking it ill that it should be supposed 
 he would not do his utmost for his country, be- 
 cause he had received no particular injury from 
 the tyrants, withdrew from the senate, forbore to 
 attend the fortim, and would not intermeddle in 
 the least with public affairs. So that many began 
 to express their fear and concern, lest through 
 resentment he should join the late royal family, 
 and overturn the commonwealth, which, as yet, 
 was but tottering. Brutus was not without his 
 suspicions qf some others, and therefore deter- 
 mined to bring the senators to their oath on a 
 solemn day of sacrifice, which he appointed for 
 that purpose. On this occasion, Valerius went 
 with great alacrity into the form 7 t, and was the 
 first to make oath that he would never give up the 
 least point, or hearken to any terms of agreement 
 with Tarquin, but would defend the Roman liberty 
 with his sword ; which afforded great satisfaction 
 to the senate, and strengthened the hands of the 
 consuls.* * His actions soon confirmed the sincerity 
 
 punished. Then the heroine, notwithstanding 
 their endeavours to dissuade her from it, plunged 
 a dagger in her breast. While the rest were filled 
 with grief and consternation, Brutus, who, till 
 that time, had feigned himself an idiot, to prevent 
 his being obnoxious to the tyrant, took the bloody 
 poniard, and showing it to the assembly, said, 
 “ I swear by this blood, which was once so pure, 
 and which nothing but the detestable villainy of 
 Tarquin could have polluted, that I will pursue 
 L. Tarquinius the proud, his wicked wife, and 
 their children, with fire and sword ; nor will ever 
 suffer any of that family, or any other whatsoever, 
 to reign at Rome. Ye gods ! I call you to witness 
 this my oath.” At these words, he presented the 
 dagger to Collatinus, Lucretius, Valerius, and the 
 rest of the company ; and engaged them to take 
 the same oath. 
 
 * Thus ended the regal state of Rome, 242 
 years, according to the common computation, 
 after the building of the city. But Sir Isaac 
 Newton justly observes, that this can scarce be 
 reconciled to the course of nature, for we meet 
 with no instance in all history, since chronology 
 w'as certain, wherein seven kings, most of whom 
 were slain, reigned so long a time in continual 
 
 of his oath. For ambassadors caine from Tarquin 
 with letters calculated to gain the people, and 
 instructions to treat with them in such a manner 
 as might be most likely to corrupt them ! as they 
 were to tell them from the king that he had bid 
 a^dieu to his high notions, and was willing to listen 
 to very moderate conditions. Though the consuls 
 were of opinion, that they should be admitted to 
 confer with the people, Valerius would not suffer 
 it, but opposed it strongly, insisting that no pre- 
 text for innovation should be given the needy 
 multitude, who might consider war as a greater 
 grievance than tyranny itself. 
 
 After this, ambassadors came to declare that 
 he would give up all thoughts of the kingdom, 
 and lay down his arms, if they would but send 
 him his treasures and other effects, that his 
 family^ and friends might not want a subsistence 
 in their exile. Many persons inclined to indulge 
 him in this, and Collatinus in particular agreed to 
 it ; but Brutus,* a man of great spirit and quick 
 resentment, ran into the forum, and called his 
 colleague traitor, for being disposed to grant the 
 enemy the means to carry on the war, and re- 
 cover the crown, when indeed it would be too 
 much to grant them bread in the place where 
 they might retire to. The citizens being as- 
 sembled on that occasion, Caius Minutius, a 
 private man, was the first who delivered his 
 sentiments to them, advising Brutus, and exhort- 
 ing the Romans, to take care that the treasures 
 should fight for them against the tyrants, rather 
 than for the tyrants against them. The Romans, 
 however, were of opinion, that while they ob- 
 tained that liberty for which they began the war, 
 they should not reject the offered peace for the 
 sake of the treasures, but cast them out together 
 with the tyrants. 
 
 In the mean time, Tarquinius made but small 
 account of his effects ; but the demand of them 
 furnished a pretence for sounding the people, and 
 for preparing a scene of treachery. This was 
 carried on by the ambassadors, under pretence of 
 taking care of the effects, part of which they said 
 they were to sell, part to collect, and the rest to 
 send away. Thus they gained time to corrupt 
 two of the best families in Rome, that of the 
 Aquilii, in which were three Senators, and the 
 Vitellii, among whom were two. All these, by 
 the mother’s side, were nephews to Collatinus the 
 consul. The Vitellii were likewise allied to 
 Brutus ; for their sister was his wife, and he had 
 several children by her ; t two of whom, just 
 
 succession. By contracting, therefore, the reigns 
 of these kings, and those of the kings of Alba; he 
 places the building of Rome, not in the seventh, 
 but in the thirty-eighth Olympiad. 
 
 t Dionysius of Halicarnassus, oh the contra^, 
 says, the affair was debated in the senate with 
 great moderation ; and when it could not be 
 settled there, whether they should prefer honour 
 or profit, it was referred to the people, who, to 
 their immortal praise, carried it, by a majority of 
 one vote, for honour. 
 
 * Dionysius and Livy make mention of no more 
 than two, but Plutarch agrees with those who say 
 that Brutus had more, and that Marcus Brutus, 
 who killed Caesar, was descended from one of 
 them. Cicero is among those that hold the latter 
 opinion ; or else he pretended to be so, to make 
 the cause and person of Brutus more popular. 
 
FUBLICOLA. 75 
 
 arrived at years of maturity, and being of their 
 kindred and acquaintance, the Vitellii drew in, 
 and persuaded to engage in the conspiracy; in- 
 sinuating, that by this means, they might marry 
 into the family of the Tarquins, share in their 
 royal prospects, and, at the same time, be set free 
 from the yoke of a stupid and cruel father. For, 
 his inflexibility in punishing criminals, they called 
 cruelty ; and the stupidity, which he had used a 
 long time as a cloak to shelter him from the 
 bloody designs of the tyrants, had procured him 
 the name of Bruttis,"^ which he refused not to be 
 known by afterwards. 
 
 The youths thus engaged, were brought to con- 
 fer with the Aquilii; and all agreed to take a 
 great and horrible oath, by drinking together of 
 the blood, t and tasting the entrails of a man 
 sacrificed for that purpose. This ceremony Was 
 performed in the house of the Aquilii ; and the 
 room chosen for it (as it was natural to suppose) 
 was dark and retired. But a slave named Vin- 
 dicius, lurked there undiscovered. Not that he 
 placed himself in that room by design ; nor had 
 he any suspicion of what was going to be trans- 
 acted : but happening to be there, and perceiving 
 with what haste and concern they entered, he 
 stopped short for fear of being seen, and hid him- 
 self behind a chest ; yet so that he could see what 
 was done, and hear what was resolved upon. 
 They came to a resolution to kill the consuls ; 
 and having wrote letters to signify as much to 
 Tarquin, they gave them to the ambassadors, who 
 then were guests to the Aquilii, and present at 
 the conspiracy. 
 
 When the affair was over, they withdrew, and 
 Vindicius, stealing from his lurking hole, was not 
 determined what to do, but disturbed with doubts. 
 He thought it shocking, as indeed it was, to ac- 
 cuse the sons of the most horrid crimes to their 
 father Brutus, or the nephews to their uncle 
 Collatinus ; and it did not presently occur to him 
 that any private Roman was fit to be trusted with 
 so important a secret. On the other hand, he was 
 so much tormented with the knowledge of such an 
 abominable treason, that he could do anything 
 rather than conceal it. At length, induced by the 
 public spirit and humanity of Valerius, he be- 
 thought himself of applying to him, a man easy of 
 access, and willing to be consulted by the neces- 
 sitous, whose house was always open, and who 
 never refused to hear the petitions even of the 
 meanest of the people.^ 
 
 Accordingly, Vindicius coming, and discovering 
 to him the whole, in the presence of his brother 
 Marcus and his wife ; Valerius, astonished and 
 terrified at the plot, would not let the man go, but 
 shut him up in the room, and left his v/ife to 
 watch the door. Then he ordered his brother to 
 surround the late king’s palace, to seize the 
 letters, if possible, and to secure the servants ; 
 while himself, with many clients and friends 
 whom he always had about him, and a numerous 
 retinue of servants, went to the house of the 
 Aquilii. As they were gone out, and no one 
 expected him, he forced open the doors, and found 
 
 * Tarquin had put the father and brother of 
 Brutus to death. 
 
 They thought such a horrible sacrifice would 
 oblige every member of the conspiracy to inviolable 
 secrecy. Cataline put the same in practice after- 
 wards. 
 
 the letters in the ambassadors’ room. Whilst he 
 was thus employed, the Aquilii ran home in great 
 haste, and engaged with him at the door, en- 
 deavouring to force the letters from him. But 
 Valerius and his party repelled their attack, and 
 twisting their gowns about their necks, after 
 much struggling on both sides, dragged them with 
 great difficulty through the streets into the forum. 
 Marcus Valerius had the same success at the 
 royal palace, where he seized other letters, ready 
 to be conveyed away among the goods, laid 
 hands on what servants of the king’s he could 
 find, and had them also into the forum. 
 
 _Whe_n the consuls had put a stop to the tumult, 
 Vindicius was produced by order of Valerius ; 
 and the accusation being lodged, the letters were 
 read, which the traitors had not the assurance to 
 contradict. A melancholy stillness reigned among 
 the rest ; but a few, willing to favour Brutus, 
 mentioned banishment. The tears of Collatinus, 
 and the silence of Valerius, gave some hopes of 
 mercy. But Brutus called upon each of his sons 
 by name, and said, “You, Titus, and you, Vale- 
 rius,* why do not you make your defence against 
 the charge?” After they had been thus ques- 
 tioned three several times, and made no answer, 
 he turned to the Izctors, and said, “Yours is the 
 part that remains.” The lictors immediately laid 
 hold on the youths, stripped them of their gar- 
 ments, and, having tied their hands behind them, 
 flogged them severely with their rods. And 
 though others turned their eyes aside, unable to 
 endure the spectacle, yet it is said that Brutus 
 neither looked another way, nor suffered pity in 
 the least to smooth his stern and angry coun- 
 tenance ; t regarding his sons as tliey suffered 
 with a threatening aspect, till they were extended 
 on the ground, and their heads cut off with the 
 axe. Then he departed, leaving the rest to his 
 colleague. ^This was an action which it is not 
 easy to praise or condemn with propriety. For 
 either the excess of virtue raised his soul above 
 the influence of the passions, or else the excess 
 of resentment depressed it into insensibility. 
 Neither the one nor the other was natural, or 
 suitable to the human faculties, but was either 
 divine or brutal. It is the more equitable, how- 
 ever, that our judgment should give its sanction 
 to the glory of this great man, than that our 
 weakness should incline us to doubt of his virtue. 
 For the Romans do not look upon it as so glorious 
 a work for Romulus to have built the city, as for 
 Brutus to have founded and established the 
 commonwealth. 
 
 After Brutus had left the tribunal, the thought 
 of what was done involved the rest in astonish- 
 ment, horror, and silence. But the easiness and 
 forbearance of Collatinus gave fresh spirits to the 
 Aquilii, they begged time to make their defence, 
 and desired that their slave Vindicius might be 
 
 * The name of Brutus’s second son was not 
 Valerius, but Tiberius. 
 
 t Livy gives a different account of Brutus’s 
 behaviour. Qmtm inter omne tem^us ^ater, 
 vzdtusqtte et os ejus, spectaculo esset, eminente 
 animo patrio inter publicce poenee ministerium. 
 There could not be a more striking spectacle than 
 the countenance of Brutus, for anguish sat mixed 
 with dignity, and he could not conceal the father, 
 though he supported the magistrate. Liv. lib. ii. 
 cap. 5. 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 76 
 
 restored to them, and not remain with their 
 accusers. The consul was inclined to grant their 
 request, and thereupon to dismiss the assembly ; 
 but Valerius would neither suffer the slave to be 
 taken from among the crowd, nor the people to 
 dismiss the traitors and withdraw. At last he 
 seized the criminals himself, and called for Brutus, 
 exclaiming that Collatinu? acted most unworthily, 
 in laying his colleague under the hard necessity 
 of putting his own sons to death, and then in- 
 clining to gratify the women by releasing the 
 betrayers and enemies of their country. Colla- 
 tinus, upon this, losing all patience, commanded 
 Vindicius to be taken away; the lictors made way 
 through the crowd, seized the man, and came to 
 blows with such as endeavoured to rescue him. 
 The friends of Valerius stood upon their defence, 
 and the people cried out for Brutus. Brutus 
 returned ; and silence being made, he said, it 
 was enough for him to give judgment upon his 
 own sons ; as for the rest, he left them to the 
 sentence of the people, who were now free ; and 
 any one that chose it might plead before them. 
 They did not, however, wait for pleadings, but 
 immediately put it to the vote, with one voice 
 condemned them to die ; and the traitors were 
 beheaded. Collatinus, it seems, was somewhat 
 suspected before, on account of his near relation 
 to the royal family ; * and one of his names was 
 obnoxious to the people, for they abhorred the 
 very name of Tarquin. But on this occasion he 
 had provoked them beyond expression ; and 
 therefore he voluntarily resigned the consulship, 
 and retired from the city. A new election con- 
 sequently was held, and Valerius declared consul 
 with great honour, as a proper mark of gratitude 
 for his patriotic zeal. As he was of opinion that 
 Vindicius should have his share of the reward, he 
 procured a decree of the people that the freedom 
 of the city should be given him, which was never 
 conferred on a slave before, and that he should 
 be enrolled in what tribe he pleased, and give his 
 suffrage with it. As for other freedmen, Appius, 
 wanting to make himself popular, procured them 
 a right of voting, long after. The act of enfran- 
 chising a slave is to this day called Vindicta (we 
 are told), from this Vindicius. 
 
 The next step that was taken, was to give up 
 the goods of the Tarquins to be plundered ; and 
 their palace and other houses were levelled with 
 the ground. The pleasantest part of the Ca7np7cs 
 Martins had been in their possession, and this 
 was now consecrated to the god Mars.f It 
 happened to be the time of harvest, and the 
 sheaves then lay upon the ground ; but as it was 
 consecrated, they thought it not lawful to thresh 
 the corn, or to make use of it ; a great number 
 of hands, therefore, took it up in baskets, and 
 tfirew it into the river. The trees were also cut 
 down and thrown in after it, and the ground left 
 entirely without fruit or product, for the service 
 
 * Lucius Tarquinius, the son of Egerius, and 
 nephew of Tarquinius Priscus was called Colla- 
 tinus, from Collatia, of which he was governor. 
 Tarquinius Superbus, and Egerius the father of- 
 Collatinus, were first cousins, 
 
 f Plutarch should have said reconsecrated. 
 For it was devoted to that god in the time of 
 Romulus, as appears from his laws. But the 
 Tarquins had sacrilegiously converted it to their 
 own use. 
 
 of the god. 7 A great quantity of different sorts 
 of things being thus thrown in together, they were 
 not carried far by the current, but only to the 
 shallows where the first heaps had stopped. 
 Finding no farther passage, everything settled 
 there, and the whole was bound still faster by 
 the river;, -for that washed down to it a deal of 
 mud, which not only added to the mass, but 
 served as a cement to it ; and the current, far 
 from dissolving it, by its gentle pressure gave it 
 the greater firmness. The bulk and solidity of 
 this mass received continual additions, most of 
 what was brought down by the Tyber settling 
 there. It was now an island sacred to religious 
 uses ; t several temples and porticoes have been 
 built upon it, and it is called in Latin, litter duos 
 pontes the island between the two bridges. 
 Some say, however, that this did not happen at 
 the dedication of Tarquin’s field, but some ages 
 after, when Tarquinia, a vestal, gave another 
 adjacent field to the public ; for which she was 
 honoured with great privileges, particularly that 
 of giving her testimony in court, which was 
 refused to all other women ; they likewise voted 
 her liberty to marry, but she did not accept it. 
 This is the account, though seemingly fabulous, 
 which some give of the matter. 
 
 Tarquin, despairing to re-ascend the throne by 
 stratagem, applied to the Tuscans, who gave 
 him a kind reception, and prepared to conduct 
 him back with a great armament. The consuls 
 led the Roman forces against them ; and the 
 two armies were drawn up in certaij^ consecrated 
 parcels of ground, the one called the Arsian grove, 
 the other the .^suvian meadow. When they 
 came to charg^, Aruns, the son of Tarquin, and 
 Brutus the Roman consul, § met each other, not 
 by accident, but design ; animated by hatred 
 and resentment, the one against a tyrant and 
 enemy of his country, the other to revenge his 
 banishment, they spurred their horses to the en- 
 counter. As they engaged rather with fury than 
 conduct, they laid themselves open, and fell by 
 each other’s hand. The battle, whose onset was 
 so dreadful, had not a milder conclusion the 
 carnage was prodigious, and equal on both sides, 
 till at length the armies were separated by a 
 storm. 
 
 Valerius was in great perplexity, as he knew 
 not which side had the victory, and found his 
 men as much dismayed at the sight of their own 
 dead, as animated by the loss of the enem3^ So 
 great, indeed, was the slaughter, that it could 
 not be distinguished who had the advantage ; and 
 each army having a near view of their own loss, 
 and only guessing at that of the enemy, were 
 
 * A field so kept, was very properly adapted 
 to the service of the God of war, who lays waste 
 all before him. 
 
 f Livy says it was secured against the force of 
 the current by jettees. 
 
 X The Fabrician bridge joined it to the city on 
 the side of the capitol, and the Cestian bridge 
 on the side of the Janiculine gate. 
 
 § Brutus is deservedly reckoned among the 
 most illustrious heroes. He restored liberty to 
 his country, secured it with the blood of his own 
 sons, and died in defending it against a tyrant. 
 The Romans afterwards erected his statue in the 
 capitol, where he was placed in the_ midst of the 
 kings of Rome, with a naked sword in his hand. 
 
FUBLICOLA. 
 
 inclined to think themselves vanquished, rather 
 than victorious. When night came on (such a 
 night as one might imagine after_ so bloody a 
 dayh and both camps were hushed in silence and 
 repose, it is said that the grove shook, and a mud 
 voice proceeding from it declared, that me ius- 
 cans had lost one man more than the Romans. 
 The voice was undoubtedly divine ; * for imme- 
 diately upon that the Romans recovered their 
 spirits, and the field rang with acclamations: 
 while the Tuscans, struck with fear and confusion, 
 deserted their camp, and most of them dispersed. 
 As for those that remained, who were not quite 
 five thousand, the Romans took them prisoners, 
 and plundered the camp. When the dead were 
 numbered, there were found on the side ot the 
 Tuscans 11,300, and on that of the Romans as 
 rhany excepting one. This battle is said to have 
 been fought on the last of February. Valerius 
 was honoured with a triumph, and was the first 
 consul that made his entry in a chariot and four. 
 The occasion rendered the spectacle glorious and 
 venerable, not invidious, and (as some would have 
 it) grievous to the Romans ; for, if that had been 
 the case, the custom w^ould not have been so 
 zealously kept up, nor would the ambition to 
 attain a triumph have lasted so many ages, ihe 
 people were pleased, too, with the honours P^\d 
 by Valerius to the remains of his colleague, his 
 burying him with so much pomp, and pronouncing 
 his funeral oration; which last the Romans so 
 generally approved, or rather were so much 
 charmed with, that afterwards all the great and 
 illustrious men among them, upon their decease, 
 had their encomium from persons of distinction.! 
 This funeral oration was more ancient than any 
 among the Greeks ; unless we allow what Anaxi- 
 menes, the orator, relates, that Solon was the 
 author of this custom. 
 
 But that which offended and exasperated the 
 people was this : Brutus, whom they considered 
 as the father of liberty, would not rule alone, ^but 
 took to himself a first and a second colleague yet 
 
 this man,” said they, “grasps the whole minority 
 and is not the successor to the consulate of Brutus, 
 to which he has no right, but to the tyranny of 
 Tarquin. To what purpose is it in words to extol 
 Brutus, and in deeds to imitate Tarquin,_while he 
 has all the rods and axes carried before him alone, 
 and sets out from a house more stately than the 
 royal palace which he demolished?” It is true, 
 Valerius did live in a house too lofty and superb, 
 on the Velian eminence, which commanded the 
 forum and everything that passed ; and as the 
 avenues were difficult, and the ascent steep, when 
 he came down from it his appearance was very 
 pompous, and resembled the state of a king rather 
 than that of a consul. But he soon showed of 
 what consequence it is for persons in high stations 
 and authority to have their ears open to truth and 
 
 77 
 
 good advice, rather than flattery. For when his 
 friends informed him, that most people thought 
 he was taking wrong steps, he made no dispute, 
 nor expressed any resentment, but hastily assem- 
 bled a number of workmen whilst it was yet night, 
 who demolished his house entirely ; so that when 
 the Romans in the morning assembled to look 
 upon it, they admired and adored his magna- 
 nimity ; but, at the same time, were troubled to 
 see so grand and magnificent an edifice ruined 
 by the envy of the citizens, as they w'^ould have 
 lamented the death of a great man who had fallen 
 as suddenly, and by the same cause. It gave 
 them pain, too, to see the consul, who had now 
 no home, obliged to take shelter in another man’s 
 house. For Valerius was entertained by his 
 friends, till the people provided a piece of ground 
 for him, where a less stately house was built, in 
 the place w’-ere the temple of Victory now stands.* 
 Desirous to make his high office, as well as 
 himself, rather agreeable than formidable to the 
 people, he ordered the axes to be taken away 
 from the rods, and that, whenever he went to 
 the great assembly, the rods should be avaled 
 in respect to the citizens, as if the supreme power 
 were lodged in them.\ A custom which the con- 
 suls observe to this day. The people were not 
 aware, that by this he did not lessen his own 
 power (as they imagined), but only by such an 
 instance of moderation obviated and cut off all 
 occasion of envy ; and gained as much authority 
 to his person, as he seemed to take from his office ; 
 for they all submitted to him with pleasure, and 
 were so much charmed with his behaviour, that 
 they gave him the name of Ptiblicoia^ Xh2it is, the 
 “People’s respectful friend.” In this both his 
 former names were lost and this we shall make 
 use of in the sequel of his life. 
 
 Indeed, it was no more than his due; for he 
 permitted all to sue for the consulship, f Yet, 
 before a colleague was appointed him, as he knew 
 not what might happen, and was apprehensive of 
 some opposition from ignorance or envy, while he 
 had the sole power he made use of it to establish 
 some of the most useful and excellent regulations. 
 In the first place, he filled up the senate, which 
 then was very thin ; seyeral of that august body 
 having been put to death by Tarquin before, and 
 others fallen in the late battle. He is said to 
 have made up the number pf 164. In the next 
 place, he caused certain laws to be enacted, which 
 greatly augmented the power of the people. The 
 first gave liberty of appeal from the consuls to 
 the people; the second made it death to enter 
 
 * It was said to be the voice of the god Pan. ^ 
 t Funeral orations were not in use among the 
 Greeks till the battle of Marathon, which was 
 sixteen years after the death of Brutus. The 
 heroes that fell so gloriously there did indeed well 
 deserve such eulogiums ; and the Grecians never 
 granted them but to those that were slain fighting 
 for their country. In this respect the custom 
 of the Romans was more equitable ; for they 
 honoured with those public marks of regard such 
 as had served their country in any capacity. 
 
 * Plutarch has it, “where the temple called 
 Vicus Ptihlicus now stands.’^ _He had found in 
 the historians vicco potce, which in old Latin 
 signifies victory; but as he did not understand 
 it, he substituted Vicus Publictts, which here 
 would have no sense at all. 
 
 t The axes, too, were still borne before the con- 
 suls when they were in the field. 
 
 X If Publicola gave the plebeians, as well as the 
 patricians, a right to the consulate, that right did 
 not then take place. For Lucius Sextius was the 
 first plebeian who arrived at that honour, many 
 ages after the time of which Plutarch speaks ; and 
 tMs continued but eleven years ; for in the twelfth, 
 which was the four hundredth year of Rome, both 
 the consuls were again patricians. Liv. vii. 
 cap. 18. 
 
7S PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 upon the magistracy without the people’s con- 
 sent ; the third was greatly in favour of the poor, 
 as, by exempting them from taxes,* it promoted 
 their attention to manufactures. Even his law 
 against disobedience to the consuls, was not less 
 popular than the rest : and, in effect, it favoured 
 the commonalty rather than the great ; for the 
 fine was only the value of five oxen and two sheep. 
 The value of a sheep was ten oboli^ of an ox, a 
 hundred ; f the Romans as yet not making much 
 use of money, because their wealth consisted in 
 abundance of cattle. To this day they call their 
 substance peculia,^ from pecus^ cattle, their most 
 ancient coins having the impression of an ox, 
 a sheep, or a hog ; and their sons being dis- 
 tinguished with the names of Suilliy Bubulci^ 
 Caprarii, and Porciii derived from the names 
 of such animals. 
 
 Though these laws of Publicola were popular 
 and_ equitable ; yet, amidst this moderation, the 
 punishment he appointed in one case was severe. 
 For he made it lawful, without a form of trial, to 
 kill any _man that should attempt to set himself 
 up for king ; and the person that took av/ay his 
 life, was to stand excused, if he could make proof 
 of the intended crime. His reason for such a law, 
 we presume, was this : though it is not possible 
 that he who undertakes so great an enterprise 
 should escape all notice ; yet it is very probable 
 that, though suspected, he may accomplish his 
 designs before he can be brought to answer for 
 it in a judicial way; and as the crime, if com- 
 mitted, would prevent his being called to account 
 for it, this law empowered any one to punish him 
 before such cognizance was taken. 
 
 His law concerning the treasury did him 
 honour. It was necessary that money should be 
 raised for the war from the estates of the citizens, 
 but he determined that neither himself nor any of 
 his friends should have the disposal of it ; nor 
 would he suffer it to be lodged in any private 
 house. He, therefore, appointed the temple of 
 Saturn to be the treasury, which they still make 
 use of for that purpose, and empowered the people 
 to choose two young men as gucustors or trea- 
 stirers.X The first were Publius Veturius and 
 Marcus Minutius ; and a large sum was collected ; 
 for 130,000 persons were taxed, though the or- 
 phans and widows stood excused. 
 
 These matters thus regulated, he procured 
 Lucretius, the father of the injured Lucretia, 
 to be appointed his colleague. To him he gave 
 
 the/«jc^j(as they are called) together with the 
 precedency, as the older man ; and this mark of 
 respect to age has ever since continued. As Lu- 
 cretius died a few days after, another election 
 was held, and Marcus Horatius* appointed in 
 his room for the remaining part of the year. 
 
 About that time, Tarquin making preparations 
 for a second war against the Romans, a great 
 piodigy is said to have happened. This prince 
 while yet upon the throne, had almost finished 
 the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, when, either 
 by tn6 direction of an oracle, f or upon some fancy 
 of his own, he ordered the artists of Veii to make 
 an earthen chariot, which was to be placed on 
 the top of it. Soon after this he forfeited the 
 crown. The Tuscans, however, moulded the 
 chariot, and set it in the furnace; but the case 
 was very different with it from that of other clay 
 in the fire, which condenses and contracts upon 
 the exhalation of the moisture, whereas it en- 
 larged itself and swelled, till it grew to such a 
 size and hardness, that it was with difficulty they 
 got It out, even after the furnace was dismantled. 
 The soothsayers being of opinion, that this chariot 
 betokened power and success to the persons with 
 whom it should remain, the people of Veii de- 
 termined not to give it up to the Romans ; but, 
 upon their demanding it, returned this answer. 
 That it belonged to Tarquin, not to those that 
 had driven him from his kingdom. It happened 
 that a few days after, there was a charlbt race at 
 Veil, which was observed as usual ; except that, 
 as jhe charioteer, who had won the prize and re- 
 ceived the crown, was gently driving out of the 
 ring, the horses took fright from no visible cause ; 
 but, either by some direction of the gods, or turn 
 of fortune, ran away with their driver, at full 
 speed, towards Rome. It was in vain that he 
 pulled the reins, or soothed them with words, he 
 was obliged to give way to the career, and was 
 whirled along, till they came to the capitol, where 
 they flung him, at the gate now called Ratmnena. 
 The Veientes, surprised and terrified at this inci- 
 dent, ordered the artists to deliver up the chariot. J 
 Tarquin, the son of Demoratus, in his wars 
 with the Sabines, made a vow to build a temple 
 to Jupiter Capitolinus; which was performed by 
 Tarquin the proud^ son or grandson to the former. 
 He did not, however, consecrate it, for it was not 
 quite finished, when he was expelled from Rome.§ 
 When the last hand was put to it, and it had 
 received every suitable ornament, Publicola was 
 ambitious of the honour of dedicating it. This ex- 
 cited the envy of some of the nobility, who could 
 better brook his other honours ; to which, indeed, 
 in his legislative and military capacities, he had a‘ 
 better claim ; but, as he had no concern in this, 
 
 * He exempted artificers, widows, and old 
 men, who had no children to relieve them, from 
 paying tribute. 
 
 t Before, the fine was such that the commonalty 
 could not pay without absolute ruin. 
 
 X The office of the quaestors was to take care 
 of the public treasure, for which they were ac- 
 countable when their year was out ; to furnish the 
 necessary sums for the service of the public ; and 
 to receive ambassadors, attend them, and provide 
 them with lodgings and other necessaries. A 
 general could_ not obtain the honours of a triumph 
 till he had given them a faithful account of the 
 spoils he had taken, and sworn to it. There were 
 at first two quaestors only, but when the Roman 
 empire was considerably enlarged, their number 
 was increased. The office of quaestor, though 
 often discharged by persons who had been con- 
 suls, was the first step to great emplovments. 
 
 * Horatius Pulvillus. 
 
 t It was a usual thing to place chariots on the 
 tops of temples. 
 
 J A miracle of this kind, and not less extra- 
 ordinary, is said to have happened in modern 
 Rome. When poor St. Michael’s church was in 
 a ruinous condition, the horses that were em- 
 ployed in drawing stones through the city, unani- 
 mously agreed to carry their loads to St. Michael. 
 
 § This temple was 200 feet long, and 185 and 
 upwards broad. The front was adorned with 
 three rows of columns, and_ the sides with two. 
 In the nave were three shrines, one of Jupitei;, 
 another of Juno, and the third of Minerva. 
 
1 
 
 PUBLICOLA, 
 
 79 
 
 they did not think proper to grant it him, but en- 
 couraged and importuned Horatius to apply for it. 
 In the mean time, Publicola’s command of the 
 army necessarily required his absence, and his 
 adversaries taking the opportunity to procure an 
 order from the people that Horatius should dedi- 
 cate the temple, conducted him to the capitol : 
 a point which they could not have gained had 
 Publicola been present. Yet some say, the consuls 
 having cast lots for it,* the dedication fell to Hora- 
 tius, and the expedition, against his inclination, 
 to Publicola. But we may easily conjecture how 
 they stood disposed, by the proceedings, on the 
 day of dedication. This was the thirteenth of 
 September, which is about the full moon of the 
 month Metagitnion, when prodigious numbers of 
 all ranks being assembled, and silence enjoined, 
 Horatius, after the other ceremonies, took hold 
 of one of the gate-posts (as the custom is), and 
 was going to pronounce the prayer of consecra- 
 tion. But Marcus, the brother of Publicola, who 
 had stood for som.e time by the gates, watching 
 his opportunity, cried out, “ Consul, your son lies 
 dead in the camp.’* This gave great pain to all 
 who heard it ; but the consul, not in the least dis- 
 concerted, made answer, “ Then cast out the dead 
 where you please, I admit of no mourning on this 
 occasion ; ” and so proceeded to finish the dedica- 
 tion. The news was not true, but an invention of 
 Marcus, who hoped by that means to hinder Ho- 
 ratius from completing what he was about. But 
 his presence of mind is equally adnmable, whether 
 he immediately perceived the falsity, or believed 
 the account to be true, without showing any 
 emotion. . » , 
 
 The same fortune attended the dedication of 
 the second temple. The first, built by Tarqum, 
 and dedicated by Horatius, as we have related, 
 was afterwards destroyed by fire in the civil wars.f 
 Sylla rebuilt it, but did not live to consecrate it ; 
 so the dedication of this second temple fell , to 
 Catulus. It was again destroyed in the troubles 
 which happened in the time of Vitellius ; and a 
 third was built by Vespasian, who, with his usual 
 good fortune, put the last hand to it, but did not 
 see it demolished, as it w'as soon after : happier in 
 this respect than Sylla, w’ho died before his was 
 dedicated, Vespasian died before his was de- 
 stroyed. For immediately after his decease, the 
 capitol was burned. The fourth, which now 
 stands, was built and dedicated by Domitian. 
 Tarquin is said to have expended 30,000 pounds 
 weight of silver upon the foundations only ; but 
 the greatest wealth any private man is supposed 
 to be now possessed of in Rome, would not answer 
 the expense of the gilding of the present temple, 
 which amounted to more than 12,000 talents, t 
 
 * Livy says positively, ‘'they cast lots for it.” 
 Plutarch seems to have taken the sequel of the 
 story from him. Liv. lib. ii. c. 8. 
 
 i* After the first temple was destroyed in the 
 wars betw’een Sylla and Marius, Sylla rebuilt it 
 w'ith columns of marble, w*hich he had taken out 
 of the temple of Jupiter Olympius at Athens, and 
 transported to Rome. But (as Plutarch observes) 
 he did not live to consecrate it ; and he was heard 
 to say, as he was dying, that his leaving that 
 temple to be dedicated by another, was the only 
 unfortunate circumstance of his life. 
 
 X ;^i94,35o sterling. In this we may see the 
 great distance between the wealth of private 
 
 The pillars are of Pentelic marble, and the thick- 
 ness was in excellent proportion to their length, 
 when we saw them at Athens ; but when they 
 were cut and polished anew at Rome, they gained 
 not so much in the polish, as they lost in the pro- 
 portion ; for their beauty is injured by their 
 appearing too slender for their height. ^ But after 
 admiring the magnificence of the capitol, if any 
 one was to go and see a gallery, a hall, or bath, 
 or the apartments of the women, in’ Domitian s 
 palace, what is said by Epicharmus of a prodigal — 
 
 Your lavish’d stores speak not the liberal mind. 
 
 But the disease of giving ; 
 
 he might apply to Domitian in some such manner 
 as this : Neither piety nor magnificence appears 
 in your expense ; you have the disease of build- 
 ing ; like Midas of old, you would turn ever^^- 
 thing to gold and marble. So much for this sub- 
 ject. 
 
 Let us now return to Tarquin. After that 
 great battle in which he lost his son, who was 
 killed in single combat by Brutus, he fled to 
 Clusium, and begged assistance of Laras Porsena, 
 then the most powerful prince in Italy^ and a man 
 of great worth and honour. Porsena promised 
 him succours J * * and, in the first place,^ sent to 
 the Romans, commanding them to receive Tar- 
 quin. Upon their refusal, he declared war 
 against them ; and having informed them of the 
 time when, and the place \yhere, he would make 
 his assault, he marched thither accordingly with 
 a great army. Publicola, who was then absent, 
 was chosen consul the second time,’}’ and with 
 him Titus Lucretius. Returning to Rome, and 
 desirous to outdo Porsena in spirit, f he built the 
 town of Sigliuria, notwithstanding the enemy’s 
 approach ; and when he had finished the walls at 
 a great e^^ense, he placed in it a colony of 700 
 men, as if he held his adversary very cheap. 
 Porsena, however, assaulted it in a spirited 
 manner, drove out the garrison, and pursued th^^ 
 fugitives so close that he was near entering Rome 
 along with them. But Publicola met him without 
 the gates, and joining battle by the river, sustained 
 
 citizens in a free countiy% and that of the subjects 
 of an arbitrary monarch. In Trajan’s time there 
 was not a private man in Rome worth ;^2oo,oc^ ; 
 whereas under the commonwealth, iEmilius 
 Scaurus, in his sedileship, erected a temporary 
 theatre which cost above ;^^5oo,ooo; M^cus 
 Crassus had an estate in land of above a million 
 a year ; L. Cornelius Balbus left by will, to 
 every Roman citizen, twenty-five detiarii, which 
 amounts to about sixteen shillings of oiu: money ; 
 and m.any private men among the Romans main- 
 tained from ten to twenty thousand slaves, not so 
 much for sers’ice as ostentation. No wonder then 
 that the slaves once took up arms, and went to war 
 with the Roman commonwealth. _ 
 
 * Besides that Porsena was willing to assist a 
 distressed king, he considered the Tarquins as his 
 countrymen, for they were of Tuscan extraction. 
 
 t It was when Publicola was consul the third 
 time, and had for his colleague Horatius Puh-illus, 
 that Porsena marched against Rome. 
 
 X Sigliuria was not built at this time, nor out of 
 ostentation, as Plutarch says ; for it was built as 
 a barrier against the Latins and the Hernici, and 
 not in the third, but in the second consulship of 
 Publicola. 
 
So PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 the enemy’s attack, who pressed on with numbers, 
 till at last sinking under the wounds he had gal- 
 lantly received, he was carried out of the battle. 
 Lucretius, his colleague, having the same fate, 
 the courage of the Romans drooped, and they re- 
 treated into the city for security. The enemy 
 making good the pursuit to the wooden-bridge, 
 Rome was in great danger of being taken : when 
 Horatius Codes,* and with him two others of 
 the first rank, Herminius and Spurius Lartius, 
 stopped them at the bridge. Horatius had the 
 surname of Codes from his having lost an eye in 
 the wars : or, as some will have it, from the form 
 of his nose, which was so very flat, that both Kis 
 eyes,^ as well as eyebrows, seemed to be joined 
 together ; so that when the vulgar intended to 
 call him Cyclops, by a misnomer, they called him 
 Codes, which name remained with him. This 
 man standing at the head of the bridge, defended 
 It against the enemy, till the Romans broke it 
 down behind him. Then he plunged into the 
 Tyber, armed as he was, and swam to the other 
 side, but was wounded in the hip with a Tuscan 
 spear. Publicola, struck with admiration of his 
 valour, immediately procured a decree, that every 
 Roman should give him one day’s provisions ; f 
 and that he should have as much land as he him- 
 self _ could encircle with a plough in one day. 
 Besides, they erected his statue in brass in the 
 temple of Vulcan, with a view to console him by 
 this honour for his wound, and lameness conse- 
 quent upon it. 
 
 While Porsena laid close siege to the city, the 
 Romans were attacked with famine, and another 
 body of Tuscans laid waste the country. Publi- 
 cola,^ who was now consul the third time, was of 
 opinion that no operations could be carried on 
 against P orsena but defensive ones. He marched 
 out,t ho wever,_ privately against those Tuscans 
 who had committed such ravages, defeated them, 
 and killed 5000. 
 
 The story of Mucius § has been the subject of 
 many pens, and is variously related : I shall give 
 that account of it which seems most credible. 
 Mucius was in all 'respects a man of merit, but 
 particularly distinguished by his valour. Having 
 secretly formed a scheme to take off Porsena, he 
 made his way into his camp in a Tuscan dress, 
 where he likewise took care’to speak the Tuscan 
 language. In this disguise he approached the 
 seat where the king sat with his nobles ; and as 
 he did not certainly know Porsena, and thought 
 it improper to ask, he drew his sword and killed 
 the person that seemed most likely to be the king. 
 Upon this he was seized and examined. Mean- 
 time, as thete, happened to be a portable altar 
 there, with fire upon it, where the king was about 
 
 to offer sacrifice, Mucius thrust his right hand 
 into it ; * and as the flesh was burning, he kept 
 looking upon Porsena with a firm and menacing 
 aspect, till the king, astonished at his fortitude, 
 returned him_ his sword with his own hand. He 
 received it with his left hand, from whence we are 
 told he had the surname of Sccevola, which signi- 
 fies le/t~ha 7 ided ,* and thus addressed himself to 
 Porsena, “Your threatenings I regarded not, but 
 am conquered by your generosity, and out of gra- 
 titude, will declare to you what no force should 
 have wrested from me. There are 300 Romans 
 that have taken the same resolution with mine, 
 who now walk about your camp, watching their 
 opportunity. It was my lot to make the first 
 attempt, and I am not sorry that my sword was 
 directed by fortune against another, instead of a 
 man of so much honour, who, as such, should 
 rather be a friend than an enemy to the Romans.” 
 Porsena believed this account, and was more in- 
 clined to hearken to terms, not so much, in my 
 opinion, through fear of the 300 assassins, as ad- 
 miration of the dignity of the Roman valour. All 
 authors call this man Mucius Scaevola,f except 
 Athenodorus Sandon, who in a work addressed to 
 Octavia, sister to Augustus, says he was named 
 Posthumius. 
 
 _ Publicola, who did not look upon Porsena as so 
 bitter an enemy to Rome, but that he deserved to 
 be taken into its friendship and alliance, was so 
 far from refusing to refer the dispute with Tarquin 
 to his decision, that he was really desirous of it, 
 and several times offered to prove that Tarquin 
 was the worst of men, and justly deprived of the 
 crown. When Tarquin roughly answered, that 
 he would_ admit of no arbitrator, much less of 
 Porsena, if he changed his mind and forsook his 
 alliance. Porsena was offended, and began to 
 entertain an ill opinion of him ; being likewise 
 solicited to it by his son Aruns, who used all his 
 interest for the Romans, he was prevailed upon to 
 put an end to the war on condition that they gave 
 up that part of Tuscany which they had con- 
 quered, t together with the prisoners, and received 
 their deserters. For the performance of these 
 conditions, they gave as hostages ten young men 
 and as many virgins, of the best families in Rome ; 
 among whom was Valeria the daughter of Publi- 
 cola. 
 
 Upon the faith of this treaty, Porsena had 
 ceased from all acts of hostility, when the Roman 
 virgins went down to bathe, at a place where the 
 bank forming itself in a crescent, embraces the 
 river in such a manner that there it is quite calm 
 and undisturbed with waves. As no guard was 
 near, and they saw none passing or repassing, 
 they had a violent inclination to swim over, not- 
 withstanding the depth and strength of the 
 stream. _ Some say, one of them, named Cloelia, 
 passed it on horseback, and encouraged the other 
 virgins as they swam. When they came safe to 
 
 * He was son to a brother of Horatius the con- 
 sul, and a descendant of that Horatius who re- 
 mained victorious in the great combat between 
 the Horatii and Curiatii in the reign of Tullus 
 Hostilius. 
 
 t Probably he had 300,000 contributors, for 
 even the women readily gave in their quota. 
 
 *t The consuls spread a report, which was soon 
 carried into the Tuscan camp by the slaves who 
 deserted, that the next day all the cattle brought 
 thither from the country, would be sent to graze 1 
 in the fields under a guard. This bait drew the 
 enemy into an ambush. 
 
 § Mucius Cordus. 1 
 
 * Livy says, that Porsena threatened Mucius 
 with the_ torture by fire, to make him discover his 
 accomplices ; whereupon Mucius thrust his hand 
 into the flame, to let him see that he was not to be 
 intimidated. 
 
 t Mucius was rewarded with a large piece of 
 ground belonging to the public. 
 
 X The Romans were required to reinstate the 
 Veientes in the possession of seven villages, which 
 they had taken from them in former wars. 
 
PUB Lie OLA, 8 1 
 
 Publicola, he neither commended nor approved 
 their exploit, but was grieved to think he should 
 appear unequal to Porsena in point of honour, 
 and that this daring enterprise of the virgins 
 should make the Rom.ans suspected of unfair pro- 
 ceeding. He took them, therefore, and sent them 
 back to Porsena. Tarquin having timely intelli- 
 gence of this, laid an ambuscade for them, and 
 attacked their convoy. They defended them- 
 selves, though greatly inferior in number : and 
 Valeria, the daughter of Publicola, broke through 
 them as they were engaged, with three servants, 
 who conducted her safe to Porsena’s camp. As 
 the skirmish was not yet decided, nor the danger 
 over, Aruns, the son of Porsena, being informed 
 of it, marched up with all speed, put the enemy 
 to flight, and rescued the Romans. When Porsena 
 saw the virgins returned, he demanded which of 
 them was she that proposed the design, and set 
 the example. When he understood that Cloelia 
 was the person, he treated her with great polite- 
 ness, and commanding one of his own horses to be 
 brought with very elegant trappings, he made 
 her a present of it. Those that say, Cloelia was 
 the only one that passed the river on horseback, 
 allege this as a proof. Others say no such conse- 
 quence can be drawn from it, and that it was 
 nothing more than a mark of honour to her from 
 the Tuscan king, for her bravepr. An equestrian 
 statue of her stands in the Via sacra* where it 
 leads to Mount Palatine ; yet some will have 
 even this to be Valeria’s statue, not Cloelia’s. 
 
 Porsena, thus reconciled to the Romans, gave 
 many proofs of his greatness of mind. Among 
 the rest, he ordered the Tuscans to carry off 
 nothing but their arms, and to leave their camp 
 full of provisions, and many other things of value, 
 for the Romans. Hence it is, that even in our 
 times, whenever there is a sale of goods belonging 
 to the public, they are cried first as the goods of 
 Porsena, to eternize the memory of his generosity. 
 A brazen statue, of rude and antique workman- 
 ship, was also erected to his honour, near the 
 senate-house, t 
 
 After this, the Sabines invading the Roman 
 territory, Marcus Valerius, brother to Publicola, 
 and Posthumius Tubertus, were elected consuls. 
 As every important action was still conducted by 
 the advice and assistance of Publicola, Marcus 
 gained two great battles ; in the second of which 
 he killed 13,000 of the enemy, without the loss of 
 one Roman. For this he was not only rewarded 
 with a triumph, but a house was built for him at 
 the public expense, on Mount Palatine. And 
 whereas the doors of other houses at that time 
 opened inwards, the street door of that house was 
 made to open outwards, to show by such an 
 honourable distinction, that he was always ready 
 to receive any proposal for the public service, f 
 All the doors in Greece, they tell us, were formerly 
 made to open so, which they prove from those 
 passages in the comedies where it is mentioned, 
 
 * Dionysius Halicarnassus tells us in express 
 terms, that in his time, that is in the reign of 
 Augustus, there were no remains of that statue, it 
 having been consumed by fire. 
 
 i* The senate likewise sent an embassy to him, 
 with a present of a throne adorned with ivory, a 
 sceptre, a crown of gold, and a triumphal robe. 
 
 X Posthumius had his share in the triumph, as 
 well as in the achievements. 
 
 that those that went out knocked loud on the 
 inside of the doors first, to give warning to such 
 as passed by or stood before them, lest the doors 
 in opening should dash against them. 
 
 The year following, Publicola was appointed 
 consul the fourth time, because a confederacy 
 between the Sabines and Latins threatened a war ; 
 and, at the same time, the city was oppressed 
 with superstitious terrors, on account of the im- 
 perfect births, and general abortions among the 
 women. Publicola, having consulted the Sibyl’s 
 books upon it,* offered sacrifice to Pluto, and 
 renewed certain games that had formerly been 
 instituted by the direction of the Delphic oracle. 
 When he had revived the city with the pleasing 
 hope that the gods were appeased, he prepared to 
 arm against the menaces of men ; . for there ap- 
 peared to be a formidable league and strong 
 armament against him. Among the Sabines, 
 Appius Clausus was a man of an opulent fortune, 
 and remarkable personal strength ; famed, more- 
 over, for his virtues, and the force of his eloquence. 
 What is the fate of all great men, to be persecuted 
 by envy, was likewise his . and his opposing the 
 war gave a handle to malignity to insinuate that 
 he wanted to strengthen the Roman power, in 
 order the more easily to enslave his own country. 
 Perceiving that the populace gave a willing ear 
 to these calumnies, and that he wasff)ecome ob- 
 noxious to the abettors of the war, he was appre- 
 hensive of an impeachment ; but being powerfully 
 supported by his friends and relations, he bade 
 his enemies defiance. This delayed the war : 
 Publicola making it his business not only to get 
 intelligence of this sedition, but also to encourage 
 and inflame it, sent proper persons to Appius, to 
 tell him, that he was sensible he was a man of 
 too much goodness and integrity, to avenge him- 
 self of his countrymen, though greatly injured by 
 them ; but if he chose, for his security, to come 
 over to the Romans, and to get out of the way of 
 his enemies, he should find such a reception, both 
 in public and private, as was suitable to his virtue 
 and the dignity of Rome. Appius considered 
 this proposal with great attention, and the neces- 
 
 * An unknown woman is said to have come to 
 Tarquin with nine volumes of oracles written by 
 the Sibyl of Cuma, for which she demanded a 
 very considerable price. Tarquin refusing to 
 purchase them at her rate, she burned three of 
 them, and then asked the same price for the re- 
 maining six. Her proposal being rejected with 
 scorn, she burned three more, and, notwithstand- 
 ing, still insisted bn her first price. Tarquin, 
 surprised at the novelty of the thing, put the 
 books in the hands of the augurs to be examined, 
 who advised him to purchase them at any rate. 
 Accordingly he did, and appointed two persons of 
 distinction, styled Duumviri, to be guardians of 
 them, who locked them up in a vault under the 
 temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, and there they 
 were kept till they were burned with the temple 
 itself. These officers, whose number was after- 
 wards increased, consulted the Sibylline books, 
 by direction of the senate, when some dangerous 
 sedition was likely to break out, when the Roman 
 armies had been defeated, or when any of those 
 prodigies appeared which were thought fatal. 
 They also presided over the sacrifices and shows, 
 which they appointed to appease the wrath of 
 Heaven. 
 
 O 
 
82 
 
 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 sity of his affairs prevailed with him to accept of 
 it. He, therefore, persuaded his friends, and 
 they influenced many others, so that 5000 men of 
 the most peaceable disposition of any among the 
 Sabines, with their families, removed with him to 
 Rome. Publicola, who was prepared for it, re- 
 ceived them in the most friendly and hospitable 
 manner, admitted them to the freedom of the city, 
 and gave them two acres of land a-piece, by the 
 river Anio. To Appius he gave twenty-five acres, 
 and a seat in the senate. This laid the founda- 
 tion of his greatness in the republic, and he used 
 the advantage with so much prudence, as to rise 
 to the first rank in power and authority. The 
 Claudian family,* descended from him, is as 
 illustrious as any in Rome. 
 
 Though the disputes among the Sabines were 
 decided by this migration, the demagogues would 
 not suffer them to rest ; representing it as a matter 
 of great disgrace, if Appius, now a deserter and 
 an enemy, should be able to obstruct their taking 
 vengeance of the Romans, when he could not 
 prevent it by his presence. They advanced , there- 
 fore, with a great army, and encamped near 
 Fidense. Having ordered 2000 men to lie in 
 ambush in the shrubby and hollow places before 
 Rome, they appointed a few horse at daybreak 
 to ravage the country up to the very gates, and 
 then to retreat, till they drew the enemy into the 
 ambuscade. But Publicola, getting information 
 that very day of these particulars from deserters, 
 prepared himself accordingly, and made a dis- 
 position of his forces. Posthumius Balbus, his 
 son-in-law, went out with 3000 men, as^ it began 
 to grow dark, and having taken possession of the 
 summits of the hills under which the Sabines had 
 concealed themselves, watched his opportunity. 
 His colleague Lucretius, with the lightest and 
 most active of the Romans, was appointed to 
 attack the Sabine cavalry, as they were driving 
 off the cattle, while himself, with the rest of the 
 forces, took a large compass, and enclosed the 
 enemy’s rear. The morning happened to be very 
 foggy, when Posthumius, at dawn, with loud 
 shouts, fell upon the ambuscade from the heights, 
 Lucretius charged the horse in their retreat, and 
 Publicola attacked the enemy’s camp. The Sa- 
 bines were everywhere worsted and put to the 
 
 * There v/ere two families of the Claudii in 
 Rome ; one patrician and the other plebeian. 
 The first had the surname of Pulcher, and the 
 other of Marcellus. In course of time the patri- 
 cian family produced twenty-three consuls, five 
 dictators, and seven censors, and obtained two 
 triumphs and two ovati9ns. The emperor Tibe- 
 rius was descended of this family. 
 
 rout. As the Romans met not with the least 
 resistance, the slaughter was prodigious. It is 
 clear that the vain confidence of the Sabines was 
 the principal cause of their ruin. While one part 
 thought the other was safe, they did not stand 
 upon their defence ; those in the camp ran towards 
 the corps that was placed in ambuscade, while 
 they, in their turn, endeavoured to regain the 
 camp. Thus they fell in with each other in great 
 disorder, and in mutual v/ant of that assistance 
 which neither was able to give. The Sabines 
 would have been entirely cut off, had not the 
 city of Fidense been so near,~ which proved an 
 asylum to some, particularly those that fled when 
 the camp was taken. Such as did not take refuge 
 there were either destroyed or taken prisoners. 
 
 The Romans, though accustomed to ascribe 
 every great event to the interposition of the gods, 
 gave the credit of this victory solely to the general ; 
 and the first thing the soldiers were heard to say, 
 was, that Publicola had put the enemy in their 
 hands, lame, blind, and almost bound, for the 
 slaughter. The people were enriched with the 
 plunder and the sale of prisoners. As for Publi- 
 cola, he was honoured with a triumph ; and having 
 surrendered the administration to the succeeding 
 consuls, he died soon after ; thus finishing his life 
 in circumstances esteemed the happiest and most 
 glorious that man can attain to.f The people, as 
 if they had done nothing to requite hiS merit in 
 his life-time, decreed, that his funeral should be 
 solemnized at the public charge ; and to make it 
 the more honourable, every one contributed a 
 piece of money called quadratis. Besides, the 
 women, out of particular regard to his memory, 
 continued the mourning for him a whole year. 
 By an order of the citizens, his body was likewise 
 interred within the city, near the place called 
 Velia^ and all his family were to have a buiying- 
 place there. At present, indeed, none of his de- 
 scendants are interred in that ground ; they only 
 carry the corpse and set it down there, when one 
 of the attendants puts a lighted torch under it, 
 which he immediately takes back again. Thus 
 they claim by that act the right, but waive the 
 privilege ; for the body is taken away, and in- 
 terred without the walls. 
 
 t He was the most virtuous citizen, one of the 
 greatest generals, and the most popular consul 
 Rome ever had. As he had taken more care to 
 transmit his virtues to posterity, than to enrich 
 them; and as, notwithstanding the frugality of 
 his life, and the great offices he had borne, there 
 was not found money enough in his house to 
 defray the charges of his funeral, he was buried 
 at the expense of the public. 
 
 SOLON AND PUBLICOLA COMPARED. 
 
 There is something singular in this parallel, and 
 what has not occurred to us in any other of the 
 lives we have written, that Publicola should ex- 
 emplify the maxims of Solon, and that Solon 
 should proclaim beforehand the happiness of 
 Publicola. For the definition of happiness which 
 Solon gave Croesus, is more applicable to Publi- 
 cola than to Tellus. It is true, he pronounces 
 Tellus happy, on account of his virtue, his valuable 
 children, and glorious death; yet he mentions 
 
 him not in his poems as eminently distinguished 
 by hi's virtue, his children, or his employments. 
 For Publicola, in his life-time, attained the highest 
 reputation and authority among Romans, by 
 means of his virtues ; and, after his death his 
 family was reckoned among the most honour- 
 able; the houses of the Publicolae, the Messalae, 
 and Valerii,} illustrious for the space of 600 
 
 X That is the other Valerii, viz. the Maximi, 
 
8 
 
 SOLOX Axn PUBLICOLA COMPARED. 
 
 j’ears,* * still acknowledging him as the fountain 
 of their honour. Tellus, like a brave man, keep- 
 ing his post, and fighting till the last, fell by the 
 enemy’s hand ; whereas Publicola, after having 
 slain his enemies (a much happier circumstance 
 than to be slain by them), after seeing his country 
 Nuctorious through his conduct as consul and as 
 general, after triumphs and all other marks of 
 honour, died that death which Solon had so pas- 
 sionately wished for, and declared so happy.f 
 I Solon, again, in his answer to Mimnermus, con- 
 I ceming the period of human life, thus exclaims : 
 
 ; Let friendship’s faithful heart attend my bier, 
 
 1 Heave the sad sigh, and drop the pitying tear I 
 And Publicola had this felicity. For he was 
 lamented not only by his fraends and relations, 
 but by the whole city; thousands attended his 
 j funer^ with tears, with regret, with the deepest 
 
 I sorrow; and the Roman matrons mourned for 
 him, as for the loss of a son, a brother, or a com- 
 mon parent. 
 
 ( Another wish of Solon’s is thus expressed ; 
 
 ' The flow of riches, though desir’d, 
 
 I Life’s real goods ijf well acquir’d, 
 
 I L'njustly let me never gain, 
 
 j Lest vengeance follow in their train. 
 
 I And Publicola not only acquired, but employed 
 ( his riches honourably, for he was a generous 
 • b^efactor to the poor : so that if Solon was the 
 I -wisest, Publicola was the happiest of human 
 i kind. What the former had wished for as the 
 j greatest and most desirable of blessings, the latter 
 actually possessed, and continued to enjoy. 
 
 Thus Solon did honour to Publicola, and he to 
 ! Solon in his turn. For he considered him as the 
 j most excellent pattern that could be proposed, in 
 ! regulating a democracy ; and, like bim^ lading 
 ! aside the pride of power, he rendered it gentle 
 i and acceptable to all. He also made use of 
 several of Solon’s la-wrs ; for he empowered the 
 people to elect their own magistrates^ and left an 
 app^ to them fr-om the sentence of other courts, 
 ^ the Athenian lawgiver had done. He did not, 
 indeed, with Solon, create a new senate, J but he 
 
 the Corvini^ the Pcfiti, the Lorenz, and the 
 Flacci. 1 
 
 * It api>e^ from this passage that Plutarch j 
 -wrote this life about the beginning of Trajan’s ■ 
 reign. j 
 
 t Cicero thought this -wrish of Solon’s unsuitable ! 
 to so -wise a man, and preferred to it tnr:!f of the 
 poet Ennius, who pleasing bim.^lf -writh the ; 
 thought of an immortality on earth as a poet, i 
 desired to die un l a m ented. Cicero rejoiced in the 
 same prosi>^t as an orator. The passion for 
 immortality is, indeed, a natural one ; but as the ■ 
 chief part of our happiness consists in the exercise 
 of the benevolent affections, in giving and receiv- ■ 
 ing sincere testimonies of regard, the undoubted } 
 expressions of that regard must soothe the pains ! 
 of a djnng man, and comfort him witii the reflec- ! 
 tion, that he has not been -wanting in the offices ' 
 of humanity. 
 
 t By /SouXtj, we apprehend that Plutarch here \ 
 rather means the senate or council hun- 
 
 dred, than the council of arre/j^T^s. Thajeur I 
 hundred had the prior cognizance of all that -was ' 
 to come before the people, and nothing could be 
 proposed to the general assembly till digested by 
 them ; so that, as far as he was able, he pro>*ided i 
 
 I ^0^ doubled the number of that which he found 
 j in being. 
 
 i His reason for appointing quosiors or irea- 
 surers was, that if the consS -was a worthy m^n 
 he might have leisure to attend to greater afeirs ; 
 if unwoi^y, that he might not have greater 
 . opportunities of injustice, when both the gcvem- 
 j ment and treasury were under his direction, 
 i Pubhcola’s aversion to tyrants -was stronger 
 than taat of Scion. For the latter made every 
 ; attempt to set up arhitrary power punishable by 
 law ; but the former made it death -without the 
 j formality of trial. Solon, indeed, justly and 
 I reasonably plumes himself upon refasing absolute 
 PO’W’er, when both the state of affairs and the 
 ^ inclinations of the p^ple -would ha-ve readily 
 I admitted it : and yet it -was no less glorious for 
 j Publicola, when, finding the consular authority 
 ‘ too despotic, he rendered it milder and mere 
 popular, and did not stret'oh it so far as he might 
 have done. That this -was the best method of 
 governing, Solon seems to have been sensible 
 before him, when he says of a republic : 
 
 The reins nor strictly nor too loosely hold. 
 
 And safe the car of ^ppery power you guide. 
 
 But the annulling of debts was peculiar to Scion, 
 and -was indeed the most effectual -way to support 
 the liberty of the people. For laws intended to 
 ^tabhsh an equality would be of no avail, while 
 tde poor were deprived of the benefit of 
 equality by their debts. Where they seemed 
 most to exerci^ their liberty, in offices, in debates, 
 and in deciding causes, there they were most 
 enslaved to the rich, and entirely under their 
 controL What is mere considerable in rbi^ case 
 b, that, though the^cancelling of debts generally 
 produces seditions, Solon seasonably applied it, as 
 a strong, though hazardous medicine, to remove 
 the s^ition then existing. The measure, t‘0O, 
 lost its i nfam ous and obnoxious nature, when 
 made use of by a man of Solon’s probity and 
 character. 
 
 If -we consider the whole administration of each, 
 Solon’s -was more illustrious at first. He -was an 
 original, and followed no example ; besides, by 
 aimself,^ -without a colleague, he effected many 
 great things for the public ad\-antage. But Publi- 
 cola’s fortune -was mere to be admired at last. 
 For Solon lived to see his o-wn establishment 
 overturned ; whereas that of Publicola preserved 
 the state in good order to the time of the civil 
 wars. And no wonder ; since the former, as soon 
 as he had enacted his laws, left them inscribed on 
 tables of wood, -without any one to support their 
 authority, and departed fr-om Athens ; whilst the 
 latter remaining at Rome, and continuing in the 
 magistracy, thoroughly established and secured 
 the commonwealth. 
 
 Solon -was sensible of the ambitious designs of ! 
 Pisistratus, and desirous to prevent their being 
 put in execution ; but he miscarried in the attemp^T, 
 and sa-w a t^mant set up. On the other hand, 
 Publicola demolished kingly power, when it had 
 been established for some ages, and was at a 
 formidable height. He -was equalled by Solon in 
 \nrtue and patriotism, but he had pc-wer and 
 
 against a thirst of arbitrary power in the rich, 
 and a desire of licentious fr^^dom in the com- 
 mons; the areopagus being a check upon the 
 former, as the senate -was a curb upon the latter. 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
84 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 good fortune to second his virtue, which the other 
 wanted. 
 
 As to warlike exploits, there is a considerable 
 difference ; for Daimachus Platceensis does not 
 * even attribute that enterprise against the Mega- 
 rensians to Solon, as we have done ; whereas 
 Publicola, in many great battles, per;ormed the 
 duty both of a general and a private soldier. 
 
 Again : if we compare their conduct in civil 
 affairs, we shall find that Solon, only acting a 
 part, as it were, and under the form of a maniac, 
 went out to speak concerning the recovery of 
 Salamis. But Publicola, in the face of the great- 
 est danger, rose up against Tarquin, detected the 
 plot, prevented the escape of the vile conspirators, 
 had them punished, and not only excluded the 
 tyrants from the city, but cut up their hopes by 
 the roots. If he was thus vigorous in prosecuting 
 affairs that required spirit, resolution and open 
 force, he was still more successful in negotiation, 
 and the gentle arts of persuasion ; for, by his 
 address, he gained Porsena, whose power was so 
 formidable, that he could not be quelled by dint 
 of arms, and made him a friend to Rome. 
 
 But here, perhaps, some will object, that Solon 
 recovered Salamis when the Athenians had given 
 it up ; whereas Publicola surrendered lands that 
 the Romans were in possession of. Our judgment 
 of actions, however, should be formed according 
 to the respective times and postures of affairs. 
 An able politician, to manage all for the best, 
 varies his conduct as the present occasion re- 
 quires ; often quits a part, to save the whole : 
 and by yielding in small matters, secures con- 
 siderable advantages. Thus Publicola, by giving 
 up what the Romans had lately usurped, saved 
 all that was really their own ; and, at a time 
 when they found it difficult to defend their city, 
 gained for them the possession of the besiegers’ 
 camp. In effect, by referring his cause to the 
 arbitration of the enemy, he gained his point, 
 and, with that, all the advantages he could have 
 proposed to himself by a victory. For Porsena 
 put an end to the war, and left the Romans all 
 the provision he had made for carrying it on, 
 induced by that impression of their virtue and 
 honour which he had received from Publicola. 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 The family of Themistocles was too obscure to 
 raise him to distinction. He w^as the son of 
 cles, an inferior citizen of Athens, of the w^ard of 
 Phrear, and the tribe of Leontis. By his mother s 
 side, he is said to have been illegitimate* accord- 
 ing to the following verses : 
 
 Though bom in Thrace, Abrotonon my name, 
 My son enrolls me in the lists of fame. 
 
 The great Themistocles. 
 
 Yet Phanias writes, that the mother of Themis- 
 tocles was of Caria, not of Thrace, and that her 
 name was not Abrotonon but Euterpe. Neanthes 
 mentions Halicarnassus as the city to which she 
 belonged. But be that as it may, when all the 
 illegitimate youth assembled at - C5niosarges, in 
 the wrestling ring dedicated to Hercules, without 
 the gates, which was appointed for that purpose, 
 because Hercules himself was not altogether of 
 divine extraction, but had a mortal for his mother , 
 Themistocles found means to persuade some of 
 the young noblemen to go to Cynosarges, and 
 take their exercise with him. This was an in- 
 genious contrivance to take away the distinction 
 between the illegitimate or aliens, and the legiti- 
 mate, whose parents were both Athenians. It is 
 plain, however, that he was related to the house 
 of the Lycomedse ; t for Simonides informs us, 
 that when a chapel of that family in the ward of 
 Phyle, where the mysteries of Ceres used to be 
 celebrated, was burned down by the barbarians, 
 
 * It was a law at Athens, that every citizen who 
 had a foreigner to his mother should be deemed a 
 bastard, though bom in wedlock, and should 
 consequently be incapable of inheriting his father s 
 estate. -i i, 
 
 t The Lycomedse were a family in Athens, who 
 (according to Pausanias) had the care of the 
 sacrifices offered to Ceres ; and in that chapel 
 which Theseus rebuilt, initiations and other mys- 
 teries were celebrated. 
 
 Themistocles rebuilt it, and adorned it with 
 pictures. 
 
 It appears, that, when a boy. he was full of 
 spirit and fire, quick of apprehension, naturally 
 inclined to bold attempts, and likely to make a 
 great statesman. His hours of leisure and vaca- 
 tion he spent not, like other boys, in idleness and 
 play ; but he was always inventing and composing 
 declamations; the subjects of which were either 
 the impeachment or defence of'some of his school- 
 fellows : So that his master would often say, 
 “ Boy, you will be nothing common or indifferent : 
 You will either be a blessing or a curse to the 
 community.” As for moral philosophy, and the 
 polite arts, he learned them but slowly, and with 
 little satisfaction ; but instructions in political 
 knowledge, and the administration of public af- 
 fairs, he received with an attention above his 
 years; because they suited his genius. When, 
 therefore, he was laughed at, long after, in com- 
 pany where free scope was given to raillery, by 
 persons who passed as more accomplished in what 
 was called genteel breeding, he was ^obliged to 
 answer them with some asperity : “ ’Tis true I 
 never learned how to tune a harp, or play upon • a 
 lute, but I know how to raise a small and incon- 
 siderable city to glory and greatness.” 
 
 Stesimbrotus, indeed, informs us, that Themis- 
 tocles studied natural philosophy, both under 
 Anaxagoras and Melissus. But in this he errs 
 against chronology.* For when Pericles, who 
 
 * Anaxagoras was born in the first year of the 
 seventieth olympiad ; Themistocles won the battle 
 of Salamis the first year of the seventy-fifth 
 olympiad ; and Melissus defended Samos against 
 Pericles the last year of the eighty-fourth olym- 
 piad. Themistocles, therefore, could neither study 
 under Anaxagoras, who was only tv/enty years old 
 when that general gained the battle of Salamis, 
 nor yet under Melissus, who did not begin to 
 flourish till thirty-six years after that battle. 
 
THEMISTOCLES, 85 
 
 was much younger than Themistocles, besieged 
 Samos, Melissus defended it, and Anaxagoras 
 lived with Pericles. Those seem to deserve more 
 attention who say, that Themistocles was a fol- 
 lower of Mnesiphilus the Phrearian, who was 
 neither orator nor natural philosopher, but a 
 professor of what was then called wisdom,* which 
 consisted in a knowledge of the arts of govern- 
 ment, and the practical part of political prudence. 
 This was a sect formed upon the principles of 
 Solon, t and descending in succession from him; 
 but when the science of government came to be 
 mixed with forensic arts, and passed from action 
 to mere words, its professors, instead of sages 
 were called sophists. J Themistocles, however, 
 was conversant in public business, when he at- 
 tended the lectures of Mnesiphilus. 
 
 In the first sallies of youth, he was irregular 
 and unsteady ; as he followed his own disposition, 
 without any moral restraints. He lived in ex- 
 tremes, and those extremes were often of the 
 worst kind.§ But he seemed to apologize for this 
 afterwards, when he observed, that the wildest 
 colts make the best horses, when they come to be 
 properly broke and managed. The stories, how- 
 ever, which some tell us, of his father’s disin- 
 heriting him, and his mother’s laying violent 
 hands upon herself, because she could not bear 
 the thoughts of her son’s infamy, seem to be quite 
 fictitious. Others, on the contrary, say, that his 
 father, to dissuade him from accepting any public 
 employment, showed him some old galleys that 
 lay worn out and neglected on the sea shore, just 
 as the populace neglect their leaders, when they 
 have no farther service for them. 
 
 Themistocles had an early and violent inclina- 
 tion for public business, and was so strongly 
 smitten with the love of glory, with an ambition 
 of the highest station, that he involved himself 
 in troublesome quarrels with persons of the first 
 rank and influence in the state, particularly with 
 Aristides the son of Lysimachus, who alwa^'^s 
 opposed him. Their enmity began early, but the 
 cause, as Ariston the philosopher relates, was 
 
 nothing more than their regard for Ptesileus of 
 Teos. After this, their disputes continued about 
 public affairs ; and the dissimilarity of their lives 
 and manners naturally added to it. Aristides 
 was of a mild temper and of great probity. He 
 managed the concerns of government with inflex- 
 ible justice, not with a view to ingratiate himself 
 with the people, or to promote his own glory, but 
 solely for the advantage and safety of the state. 
 He was, therefore, necessarily obliged to oppose 
 Themistocles, and to prevent his promotion, 
 because he frequently put the people upon un- 
 warrantable enterprises, and was ambitious of 
 introducing great innovations. Indeed, Themis- 
 tocles was so carried away with the love of glory, 
 so immoderately desirous of distinguishing him- 
 self by some great action, that, though he was 
 very young when the battle of Marathon was 
 fought, and when the generalship of hliltiades 
 was everywhere extolled, yet even then he was 
 observed to keep much alone, to be very pensive, 
 to watch whole nights, and not to attend the 
 usual entertainments : — When he was asked the 
 reason by his friends, who wondered at the change, 
 he said, the trophies of Miltiades would not suffer 
 him to sleep. While others imagined the defeat 
 of the Persians at Marathon had put an end to 
 the war, he considered it as the beginning of 
 greater conflicts ; * and, for the benefit of Greece, 
 he was always preparing himself and the Athe- 
 nians against those conflicts, because he foresaw 
 them at a distance.! 
 
 And, in the first place, whereas the Athenians 
 had used to share the revenue of the silver mines 
 of Laurium among themselves, he alone had the 
 courage to make a motion to the people, that they 
 should divide them in that manner no longer, but 
 build with them a number of galleys to be em- 
 ployed in the war against the j®ginetae, who then 
 made a considerable figure in Greece, and by 
 means of their numerous navy were masters of 
 the sea. By seasonably stirring up the resent- 
 ment and emulation of his countrymen against 
 these islanders,! he the more easily prevailed 
 with them to provide themselves with ships, than 
 if he had displayed the terrors of Darius and 
 the Persians, who were at a greater distance, 
 and of whose coming they had no great appre- 
 hensions. With this money 100 galleys with three 
 
 * He did not question but Darius would at 
 length perceive that the only way to deal with the 
 Greeks was to attack them vigorously by sea, 
 where they could make the least opposition. 
 
 *}• The two principal qualifications of a general 
 are a quick and comprehensive view of what is to 
 be done upon any present emergency, and a 
 happy foresight of what is to come : Themistocles 
 possessed both these qualifications in a great 
 degree. 
 
 ! Plutarch in this place follows Herodotus. 
 But Thucydides is express, that Themistocles 
 availed himself of both these arguments, the 
 apprehensions which the Athenians were under of 
 the return of the Persians, as well as the war 
 against the .^ginetse. Indeed he could not neg- 
 lect so powerful an inducement to strengthen 
 themselves at sea, since, according to Plato, 
 accounts were daily brought of the formidable 
 preparations of Darius ; and, upon his death, it 
 appeared that Xerxes inherited all his father’s 
 rancour against the Greeks. 
 
 * The first sages were-m reality great politi- 
 cians, who gave rules and precepts for the govern- 
 ment of communities. Thales was the first who 
 carried his speculations into physics, 
 t During the space of about loo or 120 years, 
 t The Sophists were rather rhetoricians than 
 philosophers, skilled in words, but superficial in 
 knowledge, as Diogenes Laertius informs us. 
 Protagoras, who flourished about the eighty-fourth 
 olympiad, a little before the birth of Plato, was 
 the first who had the appellation of Sophist. But 
 Socrates, who was more conversant in morality 
 than in politics,^ physics, or rhetoric, and who was 
 desirous to improve the world rather in practice 
 than in theory, modestly took the name of Philo- 
 sopkosy i.e. a lover of ivisdom, and not that of 
 Sophos, i.e. a^sage or wise man. 
 
 § Idomeneus says, that one morning Themis- 
 tocles harnessed four naked courtesans in a 
 chariot, and made them draw him across the 
 Ceramicus in the sight of all the people, who 
 were there assembled ; and that at a time when 
 the Athenians were perfect strangers to de- 
 bauchery, either in wine or women. But if that 
 vice was then so little known in Athens, how 
 could there be found four prostitutes impudent 
 enough to be exposed in that manner ? 
 
86 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 banks of oars were built, which afterwards fought 
 against Xerxes. From this step he proceeded to 
 others, in order to draw the attention of the 
 Athenians to maritime affairs, and to convince 
 them, that, though by land they were not able to 
 cope with their neighbours, 3»^et with a naval force 
 they might not only repel the barbarians, but 
 hold all Greece in subjection. Thus of good land 
 forces, as Plato says, he made them mariners 
 and seamen, and brought upon himself the asper- 
 sion of taking from his countrj^men the spear and 
 the shield, and sending them to the bench and 
 the oar. Stesimbrotus writes, that Themistocles 
 effected this in spite of the opposition of IMiltiades. 
 \Vhether by this proceeding he corrupted the 
 sirnplicity of the Athenian constitution, is a specu- 
 lation not proper to be indulged here. But that 
 the_ Greeks owed their safety to these naval appli- 
 cations, and that those ships re-established the 
 city of Athens after it had been destroyed (to 
 omit other proofs), Xerxes himself is a sufficient 
 witness. For, after his defeat at sea, he was no 
 longer able to make head against the Athenians, 
 though his land forces remain entire ; and it 
 seems to me, that he left hlardonius rather to 
 revent a pursuit, than with any hope of his 
 ringing Greece into subjection. 
 
 Some authors VTite, that Themistocles was in- 
 tent upon the acquisition of money, with a view 
 to spend it profusely ; and indeed, for his frequent 
 sacrifices, and the splendid manner in which he 
 entertained strangers, he had need of a large 
 supply. Yet others, on the contrary, accuse him 
 of meanness and attention to trifles, and say he 
 even sold presents that were made him for his 
 table. Nay, when he begged a colt of Philides, 
 who was a breeder of horses, and was refused, he 
 threatened, he would_ soon make a Trojan horse 
 of his house, enigmatically hinting, that he would 
 raise up troubles and impeachments against him 
 from some of his o^vn family. 
 
 In ambition, however, he had no equal. For 
 when he was yet young, and but little known, he 
 prevailed upon Epicles of Hermione, a performer 
 upon the lyre, much valued by the Athenians, to 
 practice at his house ; hoping by this means to 
 draw a great number of people thither. And 
 when he went to the Olympic games, he en- 
 deavoured to equal or exceed Cimon, in the 
 elegance of his table, the splendour of his pavilions, 
 and other expenses of his train. These things, 
 however, were not agreeable to the Greeks. 
 They looked upon them as suitable to a young 
 man of a noble family ; but when an obscure 
 person set himself up so much above his fortune, 
 he gained nothing by it but the imputation of 
 vamty. He exhibited a tragedy,* * * * § too, at his o^vm 
 expense, and gained the prize with his tragedians, 
 at a time v/hen those entertainments were pursued 
 wdth great avidity and emulation. In memory of 
 his success, he put up this inscription, “Themis- 
 tocles the Phrearian exhibited the tragedy, Phry- 
 
 * Tragedy at this time was just arrived at per- 
 fection ; and so great a taste had the Athenians 
 for this land of entertainment, that the principal 
 persons in the commonwealth could not oblige 
 them more than by exhibiting the best tragedy 
 with the most elegant decorations. Public prizes 
 were appointed for those that excelled in this 
 respect ; and it was matter of great emulation to 
 gain them. 
 
 nichiis composed it,* Adimantus presided.’* This 
 gained him popularity ; and what added to it, 
 was his charging his memoiy with the names of 
 the citizens ; so that he readily called each by his 
 own. He was an impartial judge, too, in the 
 causes that were brought before him ; and Si- 
 monides of Ceos t making an unreasonable request 
 to him when arc/ion, he answered, “ Neither 
 would you be a good poet, if you transgressed the 
 rules of harmony ; nor I a good magistrate, if I 
 panted your petition contrary to law.” Another 
 time he rallied Simonides for his absurdity in 
 abusing the Corinthians, who inhabited so elegant 
 a city ; and ha\dng his own picture drawn, when 
 he had so ill favoured an aspect. 
 
 At length having attained to a great height of 
 power and popularity, his faction prevailed, and 
 he procured the banishment of Aristides by what 
 is called the Ostracism.\ 
 
 The hledes now preparing to invade Greece 
 again, the Athenians considered who should be 
 their general ; and many (we are told) thinking 
 the^ commission dangerous, declined it. But 
 Epicydes, the son of Euphemides, a man of more 
 eloquence than courage, and capable withal of 
 being bribed, solicited it, and was likely to be 
 chosen. Themistocles, fearing the consequence 
 would be fatal to the public, if the choice fell 
 upon Epicydes, prevailed upon him by pecuniary 
 considerations to drop his pretensions. 
 
 His behaviour is also commended with respect 
 to the interpreter who came with the king of 
 Persia’s ambassadors that were sent to demand 
 earth and water. § By a decree of the people, he 
 
 * Phrynichus was the disciple of Thesnis, who 
 was esteemed the inventor of tragedy. '^He was 
 the first that brought female actors upon the 
 stage. His chief plays were Actseon, Alcestis, 
 and the Daniades. iEschylus was his contem- 
 porary. 
 
 t Simonides celebrated the battles of Marathon 
 and Salamis in his poems ; and was the author of 
 several odes and elegies ; some of which are still 
 extant and well known. He was much in the 
 favour of Pausanias, king of Sparta, and of Hiero 
 king of Sicily. Plato had so high an opinion of 
 his merit, that he gave him the epithet of divhie. 
 He died in the first year of the seventy-eighth 
 olympiad, at almost ninety years of age ; so that 
 he was very near fourscore when he described the 
 battle of Salamis. 
 
 J It is not certain by whom the Ostracism was 
 introduced : some say, by Pisistratus, or rather by 
 ffis sons ; others, by Clisthenes ; and others make- 
 it as ancient as the time of Theseus. By this, 
 men who became powerful to such a degree as to 
 threaten the state with danger, were banished for 
 ten years : and they were to quit the Athenian 
 temtories in ten days. The method of it was 
 this ; every citizen took a piece of a broken pot 
 or shell, on which he %vrote the name of the person 
 he would have banished. This done, the magis- 
 trates counted the shells ; and, if they amounted 
 to 6000, sorted them : and the man whose name 
 was found on the greatest number of shells, was of 
 course exiled for ten years. 
 
 § This was a demand of submissioni But 
 Herodotus assures us, that Xerxes did not send 
 such an emb^sy to the Athenians ; the am- 
 bassadors of his father Darius were treated with 
 great indignity when they made that demand ; 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 S7 
 
 put to death, for presuming to make use of aray ocxasionally to assist the fleet ; for he con- 
 the Greek language to express the de m a n ds of sidered the naval force of the Per sians as invin- 
 the barbarians. To this we may add his pro- cible. Upon this, the Euboeans, apprehensive that 
 ceedings in the affair of Arthmius the Zelite ; * ^ the Greeks would forsake them, sent Pelagon to 
 who, at his motion, was declared infamou^ with ^ negotiate privately with Themistocles, and to 
 his children and ^ his posterity, for bringing = oflfer him a large sum of money. He took the 
 Persian gold into Greece. But that which re- money, and gave it * (as Herodotus writes) to 
 dounded most of all to his honotu, was his putting ' Eurybiades. Finding himself most opposed in 
 an end to the Grecian wars, reconciling the several his designs by Architeles, captain of the sacred 
 states to each other, and persuading them to lay galley t who had not money to pay his men, and 
 aside their animosities during the war with Persia, i therefore intended immediately to withdraw ; he 
 In this he is said to have been much assisted by - so incensed his countrymen against him, that 
 Chileus the Arcadian. ■ they went in a tumultuous manner on board his 
 
 As soon as he had taken the command upon ship, and took from him what he had provided 
 him, he endeavoiued to persuade the p^ple to . for nis supper. Architeles being much provoked 
 quit the city, to embark on board their ships, and at this insult, Themistocles sent him in a chest 
 
 to meet the barbarians at as great a distance from 
 Greece as possible. But, many opposing it, he 
 marched at the head of a great army, together 
 with the Lacedaemonians, to Tempe, intending to 
 cover Thessaly, which had not as yet declared 
 for the Persians. When he returned without 
 effecting anything, the Thessalians having em- 
 braced the king’s party, and all the coimtry, as 
 far as Boeotia, foUowrmg their example, the 
 Athenians were more willing to hearken to his 
 proposal to fight the enemy at sea, and sent him 
 with a fleet to guard the straits of Artemisium.t 
 When the fleets of the several states were joined. 
 
 a quantity of provisions, and at the bottom of it 
 a talent of silver, and desired him to refresh him- 
 self that evening, and to satisfy his crew in the 
 morning ; otherwise, he would accuse him to the 
 Athenians of having received a bribe from 
 the enemy. This particular is mentioned by 
 Phanias the Lesbian. 
 
 Though the several engagements J with the 
 Peraan fleet in the straits of Eulxea were not 
 decisive ; yet they were of great advantage to the 
 Greeks, who learned by experience, that neither 
 the number of ships, nor the beauty and splendour 
 of their ornaments, nor the vaunting shouts and 
 
 and the majority were of opinion, that Eurybiades ■ songs of the barbarians, have anything dreadful 
 should have the chief command, and with his j m them to men that know how to fight hand to 
 Lacedaemonians begin the engagement; theAthe- ; hand, and are determined to behave gallantly, 
 nians, who had a greater number of ships than all = These things they were taught to despise, when 
 the rest imited, X thought it an indignity to x>art ^ they came to close action and gr ap pled with the 
 
 with the place of honour. But Themistocles 
 perceiving the danger of any disagreement at 
 that time, gave up the command to Eurybiades, 
 and satisfied the Athenians, by representing to 
 them, that, if they behaved like men in the war, 
 the Grecians would voluntarily yield them the 
 superiority for the future. To him, therefore, 
 Greece seems to owe her preservation, and the 
 Athenians in pamcular the distinguished glory 
 of surpassing their enemies in valour, and their 
 allies in moderation. 
 
 The Persian fleet coming up to Aphetse, Eury- 
 biades was astonished at such an appearance of 
 ships, particularly when he was informed that 
 there were 200 more sailing round Sciathus. He, 
 therefore, was desirous, without loss of time, to 
 draw nearer to Greece, and to keep close to the 
 Peloponnesian coast, where he might have an 
 
 for the Athenians threw them into a ditch and 
 told them, there wras earth and water enough. 
 
 ♦ Arthmius was of Zele, a town in Asia Minor, 
 but settled at Athens. He was not only declared 
 infamous for bringing in Persian gold, and en- 
 deavouring to corrupt writhit some of the principal 
 Athenians, but banished by sound of trumpet. 
 Vide ^Eschin. Orat. cont. Ctesiphcn. 
 
 t At the same time that the Greeks thought of 
 defending the p:^s of Thermopylae by land, they 
 sent a fleet to hinder the passage of the Persian 
 navy through the straits of Euboea, which fleet 
 rendexs’oused at Artemisium. 
 
 t Herodotus tells us in the beginning of bis 
 eighth book, that the Athenians furnished 127 
 vessels, and that the whole complement of the 
 rest of the Greeks aimounted to no more than 
 15 1 ; of which twenty belonged likewise to the 
 Athenians, who had lent them to the Chalcidians. 
 
 toe. In this case Pindar’s sentiments appear 
 just, when he sa3rs of the fight at Artemisium — 
 
 'Twas then that Athens the foundations laid 
 Of Liberty’s fair structure. 
 
 Indeed, intrepid courage is the commencement 
 of victory. 
 
 Artemisium is a maritime place of Eubos^ to 
 the north of Hestiaea. Over against it lies Oiizon, 
 in the territory that formerly was subject to 
 Philocletes; where there is a small temple of 
 
 * According to Herodotus, the affair was thus. 
 The Euboeans, not being able to prevail with 
 Eurybiades to remain on their coast till they 
 could carry off their wives and children, addressed 
 themselves to Themistocles. and made him a 
 present of thirty talents. He took the money; 
 and with five talents bri’oed Eurybiades. Then 
 Adiamanthus the Corinthian, being the only 
 commander who insisted on weighing anchor; 
 Themistocles went on board him, and told him 
 in few words : “ Adiamanthus, jmu shall not 
 abandon us, for I will give you a greater present 
 for doing your duty th^ the king of the !Medes 
 would send you for deserting the allies.” ^diich 
 he performed by sending him three talents on 
 boaixL Thus he did what the Eubceans requested, 
 and saved twenty-two talents for himself. 
 
 t The sacred galley was that which the Athe- 
 nians sent every year to Delos with sacrifices for 
 Apollo: and they pretend it was the same in 
 which Theseus carried the tribute to Crete. 
 
 * They came to three several engagements 
 within three daj-s ; in the last of which, Clineas 
 the father of Alcibiades, performed wonders. He 
 had, at his own e.vpense, fitted out a ship which 
 carried 200 men. 
 
88 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 Diana of the East^ in the midst of a grove. The 
 temple is encircled with pillars of white stone, 
 which, when rubbed with the hand, has both the 
 colour and smell of saffron. On one of the pillars 
 are inscribed the following verses : 
 
 When on these seas the sons of Athens conquer’d 
 The vai'ious powers of Asia ; grateful here 
 They rear’d this temple to Diana. 
 
 There is a place still to be seen upon this shore, 
 where there is a large heap of sand, which, if dug 
 into, shows towards the bottom a black dust like 
 ashes, as if some fire had been there ; and this is 
 supposed to have been that in which the wrecks 
 of the ships and the bodies of the dead were 
 burned. 
 
 The news of what had happened at Thermopylae 
 being brought to Artemisium,* * * § when the confede- 
 rates were informed that Leonidas was slain there, 
 and Xerxes master of the passages by land, they 
 sailed back to Greece; and the Athenians, elated 
 with their late distinguished valour, brought up 
 the rear. As Themistocles sailed along the coasts, 
 wherever he saw any harbours or places proper 
 for the enemy’s ships to put in at, he took such 
 stones as he happened to find, or caused to be 
 brought thither for that purpose, and set them 
 up in the ports and watering places, with the 
 following inscription engraved in large characters, 
 and addressed to the lonians. “ Let the lonians, 
 if it be possible, come over to the Greeks, from 
 whom they are descended, and who now risk 
 their lives for their liberty. If this be impracti- 
 cable, let them at least perplex the barbarians, 
 and put them in disorder in time of action.” By 
 this he hoped either to bring the lonians over to 
 his side, or to sow discord among them, by 
 causing them to be suspected by the Persians. 
 
 Though Xerxes had passed through Doris 
 down to Phocis, and was burning and destroying 
 the Phocian cities, yet the Greeks sent them no 
 succours. And, notwithstanding all the entreaties 
 the Athenians could use to prevail with the con- 
 federates to repair with them into Boeotia, and 
 cover the frontiers of Attica, as they had sent a 
 fleet to Artemisium to serve the common cause, 
 no one gave ear to their request. All eyes were 
 turned upon Peloponnesus, and all were deter- 
 mined to collect their forces within the Isthmus^ 
 and to build a wall across it from sea to sea. 
 The Athenians were greatly incensed to see them- 
 selves thus betrayed, and, at the same time, de- 
 jected and discouraged at so general a defection. 
 They alone could not think of giving battle to so 
 prodigious an army. To quit the city, and em- 
 bark on board their ships, was the only expedient 
 
 * The last engagement at Thermopylm, where- 
 in Xerxes forced the passes of the mountains by 
 the defeat of the Lacedsemonians, Thespians and 
 Thebans, who had been left to guard them, hap- 
 pened on the same day with the battle at Arte- 
 misium ; and the news of it was brought to 
 Themistocles by an Athenian called Abronichus. 
 Though the action at Thermopylae had not an 
 immediate relation to Themistocles, yet it would 
 have tended more to the glory of that general, if 
 Plutarch had taken greater notice of it ; since the 
 advantage gained there by Xerxes, opened Greece 
 to him, and rendered him much more formidable. 
 Thermopylae is well known to be a narrow pass 
 in the mountains near the Euripus. 
 
 at present ; and this the generality were very 
 unwilling to hearken to, as they could neither 
 have any great ambition for victory, nor idea of 
 safety, when they had left the temples of their 
 gods and the monuments of their ancestors. 
 
 Themistocles, perceiving that he could not by 
 the force of human reason prevail with the multi- 
 tude,* set his machinery to work, as a poet would 
 do in a tragedy, and had recourse to prodigies 
 and oracles. The prodigy he availed himself of, 
 was the disappearing of the dragon of Minerva, 
 which at that time quitted the holy place ; and the 
 priests finding the daily offerings set before it 
 untouched, gave it out among the people, at the 
 suggestion of Themistocles, that the goddess had 
 forsaken the city, and that she offered to conduct 
 them to sea. Moreover, by way of explaining to 
 the people an oracle then received, f he told them 
 that, by wooden walls, there could not possibly 
 be anything meant but ships ; and that Apollo, 
 now calling Salamis divine, not wretched and 
 unfortunate, as formerly, signified by such an 
 epithet, that it would be productive of some great 
 advantage to Greece. His councils prevailed, 
 and he proposed a decree, that the city should be 
 left to the protection of Minerva, J the tutelary 
 goddess of the Athenians; that the young men 
 should go on board the ships ; and that every one 
 should provide as well as he possibly could for 
 the safety of the children, the women, and the 
 slaves. 
 
 When this decree was made, most of the Athe- 
 nians removed their parents and wives to Troe- 
 zene,§ where they were received with a generous 
 hospitality. The Troezenians came to a resolution 
 to maintain them at the public expense, for which 
 purpose they allowed each of them two oholi _a 
 day ; they permitted the children to gather fruit 
 wherever they pleased, and provided for their 
 
 * He prevailed so effectually at last, that the 
 Athenians stoned Cyrisilus, an orator, who vehe- 
 mently opposed him, and urged all the common 
 topics of love to the place of one’s birth, and the 
 affection to wives and helpless infants. The 
 women too, to show how far they were from 
 desiring that the cause of Greece should suffer for 
 them, stoned his wife. 
 
 t This was the second oracle which the Athe- 
 nian deputies received from Anstonice priestess 
 of Apollo. Many were of opinion, that, by the 
 walls of wood which she advised them to_ have 
 recourse to, was meant the citadel, because it was 
 palisaded; but others thought it could intend 
 nothing but ships. The maintainers of the former 
 opinion urged against such as supported the 
 latter, that the last line but one of the oracle 
 was directly against him, and that, without ques- 
 tion, it portended the destruction of the Athenian 
 fleet near Salamis. Themistocles alleged in an- 
 swer, that if the oracle had intended to foretell 
 the destruction of the Athenians, it would not 
 have called it the divine Salamis, but the un- 
 happy ; and that whereas the unfortunate in the 
 oracle were styled the sons of women, it could 
 mean no other than the Persians, who were 
 scandalously effeminate. Herodot. 1. vii. c. 
 143, 144. 
 
 X But how was this when he had before told 
 the people that Minerva had fersaken the city ? 
 
 § Theseus, the great hero in Athenian .storj’’, 
 was originally of Troezene. 
 
THEMISTOCLES, 89 
 
 education by paying their tutors. This order was 
 procured by Nicagoras. 
 
 As the treasury of Athens was then but low, 
 Aristotle informs us that the court of Areopagus 
 distributed to every man who took part in the 
 expedition eight drachmas which was the prin- 
 cipal means of manning the fleet. But Clidemus 
 ascribes this also to a stratagem of Themistocles ; 
 for he tells us, that when the Athenians^ went 
 down to the harbour of Piraeus, the ^gis was 
 lost from the statue of Minerva ; and Themistocles, 
 as he ransacked everything, under pretence of 
 searching for it, found large sums of money hid 
 among the baggage, which he applied to the 
 public use ; and out of it all necessaries were pro- 
 vided for the fleet. 
 
 The embarkation of the people of Athens was a 
 very affecting scene. What pity ! what admira- 
 tion of the firmness of those men, who, sending 
 their parents and families to a distant place, un- 
 moved with their cries, their tears, or embraces, 
 had the fortitude to leave the city, and embark 
 for Salamis ! What greatly heightened the dis- 
 tress, was the number of citizens whom ^ they 
 were forced to leave behind, because of their ex- 
 treme old age.* And some emotions of tender- 
 ness were due even to the tame domestic animals, 
 which, running to the^ shore, with lamentable 
 bowlings, expressed their affection and regret for 
 the persons that had fed them. One of these, a 
 dog that belonged to Xanthippus, the father of 
 Pericles, unwilling to be left behind, is said to 
 have leaped into the sea, and to have swam by the 
 side of the ship, till it reached Salamis, where, 
 quite spent with toil, it died immediately. And 
 they show us to this day, a place csdled Syuos 
 Sei7ia, where they tell us that dog was buried. 
 
 To these great actions of Themistocles may be 
 added the following : He perceived that Aristides 
 was much regretted by the people, who were ap- 
 prehensive that out of revenge he might join the 
 Persians, and do great prejudice to the cause of 
 Greece ; he therefore caused a decree to be made, 
 that all who had been banished only for a time, 
 should have leave to return, and by their counsel 
 and valour assist their fellow-citizens in the pre- 
 servation of their country. 
 
 Eurybiades, by reason of the dignity of Sparta, 
 had the command of the fleet ; but, as he was ap- 
 prehensive of the danger,! he proposed to set sail 
 for the Isth77ius, and fix his station near the 
 Peloponnesian army. Themistocles, however, 
 opposed it ; and the account we have of the con- 
 ference on that occasion deserves to be mentioned. 
 When Eurybiades said,t “Do not you know, 
 
 Themistocles, that in the public games, such as 
 rise up before their turn are chastised for it ! ” 
 “Yes,” answered Themistocles; “yet such as 
 are left behind never gain the crown.” Eury- 
 biades, upon this, lifting up his staff, as if he in- 
 tended to strike him, Themistocles said, “ Strike, 
 if you please, but hear me.” The Lacedaemonians 
 admiring his command of temper, bade him speak 
 what he had to say ; and Themistocles was lead- 
 ing him back to the subject, when one of the 
 officers thus interrupted him : “ It ill becomes 
 you who have no city, to advise us to quit our 
 habitations and abandon our country.” Themis- 
 tocles retorted upon him thus : “ Wretch that 
 thou art, we have indeed left our walls and 
 houses, not choosing, for the sake of those inani- 
 mate things, to become slaves ; yet we have still 
 the most respectable city of Greece in these 200 
 ships, which are here ready to defend you, if you 
 will give them leave. But if you forsake and 
 betray us a second time, Greece shall soon find 
 the Athenians possessed of as free a city,* and as 
 valuable a country as that which they have 
 quitted.” These words struck Eurybiades with 
 the apprehension that the Athenians might fall 
 off from him. We are told also, that as a certain 
 Eretrian was attempting to speak, Themistocles 
 said, “What ! have you, too, something to say 
 about war, who are like the fish that has a sword 
 but no heart.” 
 
 While Themistocles was thus maintaining his 
 argument upon deck, some tell us an owl was 
 seen fl5dng to the right of the fleet,! which came 
 and perched upon the shrouds. This omen 
 determined the confederates to accede to his 
 opinion, and to prepare for a sea fight. But no 
 sooner did the enemy’s fleet appear advancing 
 towards the harbour of Phalerus in Attica, and 
 covering all the neighbouring coasts, while 
 Xerxes himself was seen marching his land forces 
 to the shore, than the Greeks, struck with the 
 sight of such prodigious armaments, began to 
 forget the counsel of Themistocles, and the 
 Peloponnesians once more looked toAvards the 
 Isth77t7cs. Nay, they resolved to set sail that 
 very night, and such orders were given to all the 
 pilots. Themistocles, greatly concerned that 
 the Greeks were going to give up the advantage 
 of their station in the straits^ and to retire to 
 their respective countries, contrived that stratagem 
 
 more probability of Eurybiades, who was com- 
 mander in chief. 
 
 * The address of Themistocles is very much to 
 be admired. If Eurybiades was really induced 
 by his fears to return to the Isthmus, the Athe- 
 nian took a right method to remove those fears, 
 by suggesting greater ; for what other free country 
 could he intimate that the people of Athens would 
 acquire, but that, when driven from their own city, 
 in their distress and despair, they might seize the 
 state of Sparta. 
 
 ! The owl was sacred to Minerva, the protect- 
 ress of the Athenians. 
 
 ! If the confederates had quitted the Straits 
 of Salamis, where they could equal the Persians 
 in the line of battle, such of the Athenians as 
 were in that island must have become an easy 
 prey to the enemy ; and the Persians would have 
 found an open sea on the Peloponnesian coast, 
 where they could act Avith all their force against 
 the ships of the allies. 
 
 * In this description we find strong traces of 
 Plutarch’s humanity and good nature. 
 
 t It does not appear that Eurybiades wanted 
 courage. Alter Xerxes had gained the pass of 
 Thermopylae, it was the general opinion of the 
 chief officers of the confederate fleet assembled in 
 council (except those of Athens), that their only 
 resource was to build a strong wall across the 
 Isthmus, and to defend Peloponnesus against the 
 Persians. Besides, the Lacedaemonians, who 
 were impartial judges of men and things, gave the 
 palm of valour to Eurybiades, and that of prudence 
 to Themistocles. 
 
 X Herodotus says, this conversation passed be- 
 tween Adiamanthus, general of the Corinthians, 
 and Themistocles ; but Plutarch relates it with 
 
FLUTARCirS ZIFFS. 
 
 which was put in execution by Sicinus. This 
 Sicinus was of Persian extraction, and a captive, 
 but much attached to Themistocks, and the 
 tutor of his children. On this occasion, Themis- 
 tocles sent him privately to the king of Persia, 
 with orders to tell him, that the commander of 
 the Athenians, having espoused^ his interest, waS 
 the first to inform him of the intended flight of 
 the Greeks; and that he exhorted him not to 
 suffer them to escape ; but while they were in 
 this confusion, and at a distance^ from their land 
 forces, to attack and destroy their whole army. 
 
 Xerxes took this information kindly, supposing 
 it to proceed from friendship, and immediately 
 gave orders to his officers, with 200 ships, to 
 surround all the passages, and to enclose the 
 islands, that none of the Greeks might escape, 
 and then to follow with the rest of the^ ships at 
 their leisure. Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, 
 was the first that perceived this niotion of the 
 enemy ; and though he was not in friendship with 
 Themistocles, but had been banished by his 
 means (as has been related), he went to him, 
 and told him they were surrounded by the enemy.* * 
 Themistocles, knowing his probity, and charmed 
 with his coming to give this intelligence, ac- 
 quainted him with the affair of Sicinus, and 
 entreated him to lend his assistance to keep the 
 Greeks in their station; and, as they had a 
 confidence in his honour, to persuade them to 
 come to an engagement in the straits. Aristides 
 approved the proceedings of Themistocles, and 
 going to the other admirals and captains, en- 
 couraged them to engage. While they hardly 
 gave credit to his report, a Tenian galley, com- 
 manded by Parsetius, came over from, the enemy 
 to bring the same account; so that indignation, 
 added to necessity, excited the Greeks to their 
 combat, t 
 
 As soon as it was day, Xerxes sat down on an 
 eminence to view the fleet and its order of battle. 
 He placed himself, as Phanodemus^ writes, above 
 the temple of Hercules, where the isle of Salamis 
 is separated from Attica by a narrow frith ; but 
 according to Acestodorus, on the confines of 
 Megara, upon a spot called Kerata^ the horfts. 
 He was seated on a throne of gold,t and had 
 many secretaries about him, whose business it 
 was to write down the particulars of the action. 
 
 * Aristides was not then in the confederate 
 fleet, but in the isle of .^®gina, from whence he 
 sailed by night, with great hazard, through the 
 Persian fleet, to carry this intelligence. 
 
 t The different conduct of the Spartans and 
 the Athenians on this occasion, seems to show 
 how much superior the accommodating laws of 
 §olon were to the austere discipline of Lycurgus. 
 Indeed, while the institutions of the latter re- 
 mained in force, the Lacedsemonians were the 
 greatest of all people. But that was impossible. 
 The severity of Lycurgus’s legislation naturally 
 tended to destroy it. Nor was this all. From 
 the extremes of abstemious hardships, the next 
 step was not to a moderate enjoyment of life, but 
 to all the licentiousness of the most effeminate 
 luxury. The laws of Lycurgus made men of the 
 Spartan women ; when they were broken, they 
 made women of the men. 
 
 t This throne, or seat, whether of gold or 
 silver, or both, was taken and carried to Athens, 
 where it was consecrated in the temple of 
 
 In the mean time, as Themistocles was sacri- 
 ficing on the deck of the admiral-galley, three 
 captives were brought to him of uncommon 
 beauty, elegantly attired, and set off with 
 golden ornaments. They were said to be the 
 sons of Autarctus and Sandace, sister to Xerxes. 
 Euphrantide, the soothsayer, casting his eye upon 
 them, and at the same time observing that a 
 bright flame blazed out from the victims,* 
 while a sneezing was heard from the right, took 
 Themistocles by the hand, and ordered that the 
 three youths should be consecrated and sacri- 
 ficed to Bacchus Omestes ; f * for by this means 
 the Greeks might be assured not only of safety, 
 but victory. 
 
 Themistocles was astonished at the strangeness 
 and cruelty of the order ; but the multitude, who 
 in great and pressing difficulties, trust rather to 
 absurd than rational methods, invoked the god 
 with one voice, and leading the captives to the 
 altar, insisted upon their being offered up, as the 
 soothsayer had directed. This particular we 
 have from Phanias the Lesbian, a man not un- 
 versed in letters and philosophy. 
 
 As to the number of the Persian ships, the 
 poet .^schylus speaks of it, in his tragedy en- 
 titled Persce, as a matter he was well assured of 
 
 A thousand ships (for well I know the number) 
 The Persian flag obey'd : two hundred more 
 And seven, overspread the seas. 
 
 The Athenians had only 180 galleys ; each 
 carried eighteen men that fought upon deck, four 
 of whom were archers, and the rest heavy armed. 
 
 If Themistocles was happy in choosing a place 
 for action, he was no less so in taking advantage 
 of a proper time for it ; for he would not engage 
 the enemy till that time of day v/hen a brisk 
 wind usually arises from the sea, which occasions 
 a high surf in the channel. This was no incon- 
 venience to the Grecian vessels, which were low 
 built and well compacted ; but a very great one 
 to the Persian ships, which had high sterns and 
 lofty decks, and were heavy and unwieldy ; for 
 it caused them to veer in such a manner, that 
 their sides were exposed to the Greeks, who 
 attacked them furiously. During the whole 
 dispute, great attention was given to the motions 
 of Themistocles, as it was believed he knew best 
 how to proceed. Ariamenes, the Persian admiral, 
 a man of distinguished honour,^ and by far the 
 bravest of the king’s brothers, directed his man- 
 oeuvres chiefly against him. His ship was very 
 tall, and from th^ence he threw darts and shot 
 forth arrows as from the walls of a castle. But 
 
 Minerva, with the golden sabre of Mardonius, 
 which was taken afterwards in the battle of 
 Platsea. 
 
 * A bright flame was always considered as a 
 fortunate omen, whether it were a real one issu- 
 ing from an altar, or a seeming one (what we call 
 shell-fire) from the head of a living person . Virgil 
 mentions one of the latter sort, which appeared 
 about the head of Julus and Florus, another that 
 was seen about the head of Servius Tullius. A 
 sneezing on the right hand, too, was deemed a 
 lucky omen both by the Greeks and Latins. 
 
 t In the same manner, Chios, Tenedos, and 
 Lesbos, offered human sacrifices to Bacchus, 
 surnamed Omodius. But this is the sole instance 
 we know of among the Athenians. 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 Aminias the Decelean^ and Sosicles the Pedian, 
 who sailed in one bottom, bore down upon him 
 with their prow, and both ships meeting, they 
 were fastened together by means of their brazen 
 beaks ; when Ariamenes boarding their galley, 
 they received him with their pikes, and pushed 
 him into the sea. Artemisia* * * § * knew the body 
 amongst others that were floating with the wreck, 
 and carried it to Xerxes. 
 
 While the fight WcxS thus raging, we are told a 
 great light appeared, as from Eleusis ; and loud 
 sounds and voices were heard through all the 
 plain of Thriasia to the sea, as of a great number 
 of people carrying the mystic symbols of Bacchus 
 in procession. t A cloud, too, seemed to rise 
 from among the crowd that made this noise, and 
 to ascend by degrees, till it fell ujwn the galleys. 
 Other phantoms also, and apparitions of armed 
 men, they thought they saw, stretching out their 
 hands from iEgina before the Grecian fleet. 
 These they conjectured to be the yEaci<Ee,X to 
 whom, before the battle, they had addressed their 
 prayers for succour. 
 
 The first man that took a ship was an Athenian 
 named Lycomedes, captain of a galley, who cut, 
 down the ensigns from the enemy’s ship, and 
 consecrated them to the laurelled Apollo. As the 
 Pereians could come up in the straits but few at 
 a time, and often put each other in confusion, the 
 Greeks equalling them in the line, fought them 
 till the evening, when they broke them entirely, 
 and gained that signal and complete victory, than 
 which (as Simonides says) no other naval achieve- 
 ment, either of the Greeks or barbarians, ever was 
 more glorious. This success was owdng to the 
 valour, indeed, of all the confederates, but chiefly 
 to the sagacity and conduct of Themistocles. § 
 
 After the battle, Xerxes, full of indignation at 
 his disappointment, attempted to join Salamis to 
 the continent, by a mole so well secured, that his 
 
 * Artemisia, queen of Halicarnassus, dis- 
 tinguished herself above all the rest of the 
 Persian forces, her ships being the last that fled ; 
 which Xeraes observing, cried out, that the' men 
 behaved like w'omen, and the w'omen with the 
 courage and intrepidity of men. The Athenians 
 w’ere so incensed against her, that they offered a 
 reward of 10,000 drachmas to any one that should 
 take her alive. This princess must not be con- 
 founded with that Artemisia, who was the wife of 
 Mausolus, the king of Caria. 
 
 t Herodotus says, these voices were heard, and 
 this vision seen, some days after the battle, while 
 the Persian land forces were ravaging the territories 
 of Attica. Dicaeus, an Athenian exile (who hoped 
 thereby to procure a mitigation of his coimtry’s 
 fate), was the first that obser\-ed the thing, and 
 carried an account of it to Xerxes. 
 
 + A vessel had been sent to .^gina to implore 
 the assistance of iEcus and his descendants. 
 iEcus was the son of Jupiter, and had been king 
 of iEgina. He was so remarkable for his justice, 
 that his prayers, whilst he lived, are said to have 
 procured great advantages to the Greeks ; and, 
 after his death, it was believed that he was ap- 
 pointed one of the three judges in the infernal 
 regions. 
 
 § In this battle, which w^as one of the most 
 memorable we find in history, the Grecians lost 
 forty ships, and the Persians tw'o hundred, beside 
 a great many more that were taken. 
 
 land forces might pass over it into the island, and 
 t^t he might shut up the pass entirely against 
 the Greel^.^ At the same time, Themistocles, to 
 sound Aristides, pretended it was his own opinion 
 that they should sail to the Hellespont, and break 
 down the bridge of ships : “ For so,’" says he, “ we 
 may take Asia, without stirring out of Europe.’" 
 Aristides * did not in the least relish his proposal, 
 but answered him to this purpose : “Till nov/ we 
 have had to do wath an enemy immersed in luxury ; 
 but if we shut him up in Greece, and drive him to 
 necessity, he who is master of such prodigious 
 forces, will no longer sit under a golden canopy, 
 and be a quiet spectator of the proceedings of the 
 war, but, awaked by danger, attempting every- 
 thing, and present everywhere, he will correct 
 his past errors, and follow counsels better calcu- 
 lated for success. Instead, therefore, of breaking 
 that bridge, we should, if possible, provide an- 
 other, that he may retire the sooner out of 
 Europe.'" “ If that is the case,” said Themistocles, 
 “ we must all consider and contrive how to put 
 him upon the most speedy retreat out of Greece.” 
 
 This being resolved upon, he sent one of the 
 king’s eunuchs, whom he found among the 
 prisoners, Amaces by name, to acquaint him, 
 “ That the Greeks, since their victory at sea, were 
 determined to sail to the Hellespont, and destroy 
 the bridge ; but that Themistocles, in care for 
 the king’s safety, advised him to hasten towards 
 his own seas, and pass over into Asia, while his 
 friend endeavoured to find out pretences of delay, 
 to prevent the confederates from pursuing him.” 
 Xerxes, terrified at the news, retired with the 
 greatest precipitation, t How prudent the manage- 
 ment of Themistocles and Aristides was, Mar- 
 donius afforded a proof, when, with a small part 
 of the king’s forces, he put the Greeks in extreme 
 danger of losing all, in the battle of Plataea. 
 
 Herodotus tells us, that, among the cities, .^gina 
 bore away the palm ; but among the commanders, 
 Themistocles, in spite of envy, was universally 
 allowed to have distinguished hamself most. For, 
 when they came to the Isthmus, and every officer 
 took a billet from the altar, J to inscribe upon it 
 the names of those that had done the best service, 
 every one put himself in the first place, and 
 Themistocles in the second. The Lacedaemonians, 
 having conducted him to Sparta, adjudged Eur>-- 
 biades the prize of valour, and Themistocles that 
 of wisdom, honouring each wdth a crowm of oHve. 
 
 * According to Herodotus, it was not Aristides, 
 but Eurj’biades, w'ho made this reply to Themis- 
 tocles. 
 
 t Xerxes, having left Mardonius in Greece 
 wdth an army of 300,000 men, marched with the 
 rest towards Thrace, in order to cross the Helles- 
 pont. As no provisions had been prepared before- 
 hand, his army underw'ent great l^r^hips during 
 the whole time of his march, w'hich lasted five 
 ^d forty days. The king, finding they were not 
 in a condition to pursue their route so expedi- 
 tiously as he desired, advanced with a sniall 
 retinue ; but, when he arrived at the Hellespont, 
 he found his bridge of boats broken down by the 
 violence of the storms, ^d was reduced to the 
 necessity of crossing over in a fishing boat. From 
 the Hellespont he continued his flight to Sardis. 
 
 t The altar of Neptune. This solemnity was 
 designed to make them give their judgment im- 
 partially, as in the presence of the gods. 
 
Q2 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 They likewise presented the latter with the 
 handsomest . chariot in the^ city, and ordered 300 
 of their youth to attend him to the borders. 
 the next Olympic games, too, we are told, that, 
 as soon as Themistocles appeared in the ring, the 
 champions were overlooked by the spectators, who 
 kept their eyes upon him all the day, and pointed 
 him out to strangers with the utmost admiration 
 and applause. This incense was extremely grate- 
 ful to him ; and he acknowledged to his friends, 
 that he then reaped the fruit of his labours for 
 Greece. . 
 
 Indeed, he was naturally very ambitious, it we 
 may form a conclusion from his memorable acts 
 and sayings. . , • 
 
 For, when elected admiral by the Athenians, 
 he would not despatch any business,- whether 
 public or private, singly, but put off all affairs to 
 the day he was to embark, that having a great 
 deal to do, he might appear with the greater 
 dignity and importance. 
 
 One day, as he was looking upon the dead 
 bodies cast up by the sea, and saw a number of 
 chains of gold and bracelets upon them, he passed 
 by them, and turning to his friend, said, “Take 
 these things for yourself, for you are not Themis- 
 tocles.” . 
 
 To Antiphates, who had formerly treated him 
 with disdain, but in his glory made his court to 
 him, he said, “ Young man, we are both come to 
 our senses at the same time, though a little too 
 
 late.” . . j 1 • 
 
 He used to say, the Athenians paid him no 
 honour or sincere respect; but when a storm 
 arose, or danger appeared, they sheltered them- 
 selves under him, as under a plane tree, whicl^ 
 when the weather was fair again^ they would, rob 
 of its leaves and branches. 
 
 When one of Seriphus told him, he was not so 
 much honoured for his own sake,_ but for ^ his 
 country’s, “ True,” ansv/ered Themistocles, “for 
 neither should I have been greatly distinguished 
 if I had been of Seriphus, nor you, if you had 
 been an Athenian.” , , , , 1 
 
 Another officer, who thought he had done the 
 state some service, setting himself up against 
 Themistocles, and venturing to compare his own 
 exploits with his, he answered him with this fable, 
 “There once happened a dispute between the 
 feast day and the day after the feast ; Says the 
 day after the feast, ‘ I am full of bustle and trouble, 
 whereas, with you, folks enjoy, at their ease, 
 everything ready provided.’ ‘ You say right, says 
 the feast day, ‘ but if I had not been before you, 
 you would not have been at all.’ So, had it not 
 been for me, then, where would you have been 
 
 ^°Hi's son being master of his mother, and hy her 
 means of him, he said, laughing, ‘ child is 
 
 greater than any man in Greece ; for the Athenians 
 command the Greeks, I command the Athenians, 
 his mother commands me, and he commands ms 
 
 ™ As he loved to be particular in everything, 
 when he happened to sell a farm, he ordered the 
 crier to ado, that it had a good neighbour*. 
 
 Two citizens courting his daughter, he preferred 
 
 the worthy man to the rich one, and assigned this 
 reason : he had rather she should have a man 
 without money, than money without a man. Such 
 was the pointed manner in which he often ex- 
 pressed himself.* 
 
 After the greatest actions we have related, his 
 next enterprise was to rebuild and fortify the city 
 of Athens. Theopompus tells us, he bribed the 
 Lacedaemonian Ephori, that they might not op- 
 pose it ; but most historians say, he over-reached 
 them. He was sent, it seems, on pretence of an 
 embassy to Sparta. The Spartans complained, 
 that the Athenians were fortifying their city, and 
 the governor of iEgina, who was come for that 
 purpose, supported the accusation. But Themis- 
 tocles absolutely denied it, and challenged them 
 to send proper persons to Athens to inspect the 
 walls ; at once gaining time for finishing them, 
 and contriving to have hostages at Athens for his 
 return. The event answered his expectation. 
 For the Lacedaemonians, when assured how the 
 fact stood, dissembled their resentment, and let 
 him go with impunity. 
 
 After this, he built and fortified the Piraeus 
 (having observed the conveniency of that har- 
 bour). By which means he gave the city every 
 maritime accommodation. In this respect his 
 politics were very different from those of the 
 ancient kings of Athens. They, we are^ told, 
 used their endeavours to draw the attention of 
 their subjects from the business of navigation, 
 that they might turn it entirely to the culture of 
 the ground : and to this purpose they published 
 the fable of the contention between Minerva and 
 Neptune for the patronage of Attica, when the 
 former, by producing an olive-tree before the 
 judges, gained her cause. Themistocles did not 
 bring the Piraeus into the city, as Aristophanes 
 the comic poet would have it but he joined the 
 city by a line of communication to the Piraeus, 
 and the land to the sea. This measure strength- 
 ened the people against the nobility, and made 
 them bolder and more untractable, as power came 
 with v/ealth into the hands of masters of ships, 
 mariners, and pilots. Hence it was, that the 
 oratory in Pnyx, which was built to front the sea, 
 was afterwards turned by the thirty tyrants toward 
 the land ; t for they believed a maritime power 
 inclinable to a democracy, whereas persons em- 
 ployed in agriculture would be less uneasy under 
 an oligarchy. . . 
 
 Themistocles had something still greater m view 
 for strengthening the Athenians by sea. After 
 the retreat of Xerxes, when the Grecian fleet was 
 gone into the harbour of Pagasse to winter, he 
 acquainted the citizens in full assembly, that he 
 had hit upon a design which might greatly con- 
 tribute to their advantage, but it was not fit to be 
 communicated to their whole body. The Athe- 
 nians ordered him to communicate it to Aristides 
 only,t and, if he approved of it, to put it in exe- 
 
 * Cicero has preserved another of his sayings, 
 which deserves mentioning. When Simonides 
 offered to teach Themistocles the art of memory, 
 he answered, “Ah! rather teach me the art of 
 forgetting ; for I often remember what I would 
 not, and cannot forget what I would. 
 
 t The thirty tyrants were established at Athens 
 by Lysander, 403 years before the Christian era, 
 and 77 years after the battle of Salamis. 
 
 % How glorious this testimony of the public 
 
 * There is the genuine Attic salt in most of 
 these retorts and observations of Themistocles. 
 His wit seems to have been equal to his military 
 and political capacity. 
 
THEMISTO CLES. 
 
 cution. Themistocles then informed him, that 
 he had thoughts of burning the confederate fleet 
 at Pagasse. Upon which, Aristides went and 
 declared to the people, that the enterprise which 
 Themistocles proposed was indeed the most ad- 
 vantageous in the world, but, at the same time, 
 the most unjust. The Athenians therefore com- 
 manded hirn to lay aside all thoughts of it.* * 
 
 About this time the Lacedaemonians made a 
 motion in the assembly of the A77iphictyons, to 
 exclude from that council all those states that had 
 not joined in the confederacy against the king of 
 Persia. But Themistocles was apprehensive, that, 
 if the Thessalians, the Argives, and Thebans, were 
 expelled irom the council, the Lacedaemonians 
 would have a great majority of voices, and con- 
 sequently procure what decrees they pleased. 
 He spoke, therefore, in defence of those states, 
 and brought the deputies off from that design, by 
 representing, that thirty-one cities only had their 
 share of the burden of that war, and that the 
 greatest part of these were but of small Considera- 
 tion ; that consequently it would be both un- 
 reasonable and dangerous to exclude the rest of 
 Greece from the league, and leave the council to 
 be^ dictated to by two or three great cities. By 
 this he became very obnoxious to the Lacedae- 
 monians, who, for this reason, set up Cimon 
 against him as a rival in all affairs of state, and 
 used all their interest for his advancement. 
 
 He disobliged the allies, also, by sailing round 
 the islands, and extorting money from them ; as 
 we may conclude from the answer which Hero- 
 dotus tells us the Adrians gave him to a demand 
 of that sort. _He told them, he brought two gods 
 along with him, Perstcasio7t and Force. They 
 replied, they had also two great gods on their 
 side, P ove7'ty and Despair, who forbade them to 
 satisfy him. Timocreon, the Rhodian poet, writes 
 with great bitterness against Themistocles, and 
 charges hun with betraying him, though his friend 
 and host, for money, while, for the like paltry 
 consideration, he procured the return of other 
 exiles. So in these verses : 
 
 Pausanius you may praise, and you Xantippus, 
 And you Leutychidas : But sure the hero, 
 
 Who bears the Athenian palm, is Aristides. 
 
 What is the false, the vain, Themistocles? 
 
 The very light is grudg’d him by Latona, 
 
 Who for vile pelf betray’d Timocreon, 
 
 His friend and host ; nor gave him to behold 
 His dear Jalysus. For three talents m.ore 
 He sail’d and left him on a foreign coast. 
 
 What fatal end awaits the man that kills, 
 
 That banishes, that sets the villain up. 
 
 regard to Aristides, from a people then so free, 
 and withal so virtuous ! 
 
 * It is h^dly possible for the military and 
 political genius of Themistocles to save him from 
 contempt and detestation, when we arrive at this 
 part of his conduct. — h. serious proposal to burn 
 the confederate fleet ! — That fleet, whose united 
 efforts had saved Greece from destruction ! — 
 which had fought under his auspices with such 
 irresistible valour ! — That sacred fleet, the minu- 
 test part of which should have been religiously 
 preserved, or if consumed, consumed only on the 
 alt^s, and in the service of the gods ! — How dia- 
 bolical is that policy, which, in its way to power, 
 tramples on humanity, justice, and gratitude. 
 
 To fill his glittering stores ? While ostentation. 
 With vain airs, fain would boast the generous 
 hand. 
 
 And, at the Isthmus, spreads a public board 
 For crowds that eat, and curse him at the 
 banquet. 
 
 But Timocreon gave a still looser reign to his 
 abuse of Themistocles, after the condemnation 
 and banishment of that great man, in a poem 
 which begins thus : 
 
 Muse, crown’d with glory, bear this faithful strain. 
 Far as the Grecian name extends. 
 
 Timocreon is said to have been banished by The- 
 mistocles, for favouring the Persians. Wlien, 
 therefore, Themistocles was accused of the same 
 traitorous inclinations, he wrote against him as 
 follows : 
 
 Timocreon’s honour to the Medes is sold. 
 
 But yet not his alone : Another fox 
 Finds the same fields to prey in. 
 
 As the Athenians, through envy, readily gave 
 ear to calummes against him, he was often forced 
 to recount his own services, which rendered him 
 still more insupportable ; and when they expressed 
 their displeasure, he said, “Are you weary of 
 receiving benefits often from the same hand ? ” 
 
 Another offence he gave the people, was, his 
 building a temple to Diana, under the name of 
 Aristobule, or Diana of tJie best co7i7isel, intima- 
 ting that he had given the best counsel, not only 
 to Athens, but to all Greece. He built this j 
 temple near his own house, in the quarter of j 
 Melita, where now the executioners cast out the ! 
 bodies of those that have suffered death, and j 
 where they throw the halters and clothes of such 
 as have been strangled or otherwise put to death. 
 There was, even in our times, a statue of The- 
 mistocles in this temple of Diana A Tnstobule, from 
 which it appeared that his aspect was as heroic 
 as his soul. 
 
 At last, the Athenians, unable any longer to 
 bear that Mgh distinction in which he stood, 
 banished him by the Ostracis77t ; and this was 
 nothing more than they had done to others whose 
 power was become a burden to them, and who 
 had risen above the equality which a common- 
 wealth requires ; for the OstracisTn, or ten years' 
 ba7iish77ie7it, was not so much intended to punish 
 this or that great man, as to pacify and mitigate 
 the fury of envy, who delights in ^e disgrace of 
 superior characters, and loses a part of her 
 rancour by their fall. 
 
 In the time of his exile, while he took up his 
 abode at Argos,* the affair of Pausanias gave 
 
 * The great Pausanias, who had beaten the 
 Persians in the battle of Platae, and who, on 
 many occasions, had behaved with great gene- 
 rosity as well as moderation, at last degenerated ; 
 and fell into a scandalous treaty with the Persians, 
 in hopes, through their interest, to make himself 
 sovereign of Greece. As soon as he had conceived 
 these strange notions, he fell into the manners of 
 the Pemians, affected all their luxury, and derided 
 the plain customs of his country, of which he had 
 formerly been so fond. ^ The EphoT^ waited some 
 time for clear proof of his treacherous designs, and 
 when they had obtained it, determined to imprison 
 him. But he fled into the temple of IMinerv^a 
 Chalcioicos, and they besieged him there. They 
 
94 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 great advantage to the enemies of Themistocles. 
 The person who then accused him of treason, was 
 Leobotes the son of Alcmseon, of Agraule, and 
 the Spartans joined in the impeachment. Pau- 
 sanias at first concealed his plot from Themis- 
 tocles, though he was his friend ; but when he 
 saw him an exile, and full of indignation against 
 the Athenians, he ventured to communicate his 
 designs to him, showing him the king of Persia’s 
 letters, and exciting him to vengeance against 
 the Greeks, as an unjust and ungrateful people. 
 Themistocles rejected the solicitations of Pau- 
 sanias, and refused to have the least share in his 
 designs ; but he gave no information of what had 
 passed between them, nor let the secret transpire ; 
 whether he thought he would desist of himself, 
 or that he would be discovered some other way, 
 as he had embarked in an absurd and extravagant 
 enterprise without any rational hopes of success. 
 
 However, when Pausanias was put to death, 
 there were found^ letters and other writings rela- 
 tive to the business, which caused no small 
 suspicion against Themistocles. The Lacedae- 
 monians raised a clamour against him ; and those 
 of his fellow citizens that envied him insisted on 
 the charge. He could not defend himself in 
 person, but he answered by letter the principal 
 parts of the accusation. For, to obviate the 
 calumnies of his enemies, he observed to the 
 Athenians, that he who was born to command, 
 and incapable of servitude, could never sell him- 
 self, and Greece along with him, to enemies and 
 barljarians. The people, however, listened to 
 his accusers, and sent them with orders to bring 
 him to his answer before the states of Greece. 
 Of this he had timely notice, and passed over to 
 the isle of Corcyra ; the inhabitants of which had 
 great obligations to him ; for a difference between 
 them and the people of Corinth had been referred 
 to his arbitration, and he had decided it by award- 
 ing the Corinthians * to pay down twenty talents, 
 and the isle of Leucas to be in common between 
 the two parties, as a colony from both. From 
 thence he fled to Epirus ; and, finding himself 
 still pursued by the Athenians and Lacedae- 
 monians, he tried a very hazardous and uncertain 
 resource, in imploring the protection oi Admetus, 
 king of the Molossians. Admetus had made a 
 request to the Athenians, which being rejected 
 with scorn by Themistocles in the time of his 
 prosperity and influence in the state, the king 
 entertained a deep resentrnent against him, and 
 made no secret of his intention to revenge himself, 
 if ever the Athenians should fall into his power. 
 However, while he was thus flying from place to 
 place, he was more afraid of the recent envy of 
 
 his countrymen, than of the consequences of an 
 old quarrel with the king ; and therefore he went 
 and put himself in his hands, appearing before 
 him as a suppliant, in a particular and extra- 
 ordinary manner.* He took the king’s son, who 
 was yet a child, in his arms, and kneeled down 
 before the household gods. This manner of offer- 
 ing a petition, the Molossians look upon as the 
 most effectual, and the only one that can hardly 
 be rejected. Some say the queen, whose name 
 was Phthia, suggested this method of supplication 
 to Themistocles. Others, that Admetus himself 
 taught him to_ act the part, that he might have a 
 sacred obligation to allege, against giving him up 
 to those that might come to demand him. 
 
 At that time Epicrates, the Acarnanian, found 
 means to convey the wife and children of Themis- 
 tocles out of Athens, and sent them to him ; for 
 which Cimon afterwards condemned him and put 
 him to death. This account is given by Stesim- 
 brotus ; yet, I know not how, forgetting what he 
 had asserted, or making Themistocles forget it, 
 he tells us he sailed from thence to Sicily, and 
 demanded king Hiero’s daughter in marriage, 
 promising to bring the Greeks under his sub- 
 jection; and that, upon Hiero’s refusal, he passed 
 over into Asia. But this is not probable. For 
 Theophrastus, in his treatise on monarchy, relates, 
 that, when Hiero sent his race-horses to the 
 Olympic games, and set up a superb pavilion there, 
 Themistocles harangued the Greeks, to persuade 
 them to pull it down, and not to suffer the tyrant’s 
 horses to run. Thucydides writes, that he went 
 by land to the .^gean sea, and embarked at 
 Pydna ; that none in the ship knew him, till he 
 vvas driven by storm to Naxos, which was at that 
 time besieged by the Athenians ; that, through 
 fear of being taken, he then informed the master 
 of the ship, and the pilot, who he was ; and that 
 partly by entreaties, partly by threatening he 
 would declare to the Athenians, however falsely, 
 that they knew him from the first, and were 
 bribed to take him into their vessel, he obliged 
 them to weigh anchor and sail for Asia. 
 
 The greatest part of his treasures was privately 
 sent after him to Asia by his friends. What was 
 discovered and seized for the public use, Theo- 
 pompus says, amounted to loo talents ; Theophras- 
 tus fourscore ; though he was not worth three 
 talents before his employments in the government, t 
 
 When he was landed at Cuma, he understood 
 that a number of people, particularly Ergoteles 
 and Pythodorus, were watching to take him. He 
 was, indeed, a rich booty to those that were de- 
 termined to get money by any means whatever ; 
 for the king of Persia had offered by proclamation 
 200 talents for apprehending him. % He, therefore, 
 
 walled up all the gates, and his own mother laid 
 the first stone. When they had almost starved 
 him to death, they laid hands on him, and by the 
 time they had got him out of the temple, he 
 expired. 
 
 * The scholiast upon Thucydides tells us, The- 
 mistocles served the people of Corcyra in an affair 
 of greater importance. The states of Greece were 
 inclined to mal^e war up'on that island for not 
 joining in the league against Xerxes; but The- 
 mistocles repi'esented, that, if they were in that 
 manner to punish all the cities that had not 
 acceded to the league, their proceedings would 
 bring greater calamities upon Greece than it had 
 suffered from the barbarians. 
 
 * It was nothing particular for a suppliant to 
 do homage to the household gods of the person 
 to whom he had a. request ; but to do it with 
 the king’s son in his arms was an extraordinary 
 circumstance. 
 
 t Thisistotallyinconsistent with that splendour 
 in which according to Plutarch’s own account, he 
 lived, before he had any public appointments. 
 
 t The resentment of Xerxes is not at all to be 
 wondered at, since Themistocles had not only 
 beaten him in the battle of Salamis, but, what was 
 more disgraceful still, had made him a dupe to his 
 designing persuasions and representations. In 
 itself uniformly through his whole conduct. 
 
THEMISTOCLES, 
 
 95 
 
 retired to iEgse, a little town of the -^olians, 
 where he was known to nobody but Nicogenes, 
 his host, who was a man of great wealth, and had 
 some interest at the Persian court. In his house 
 he was concealed a few days ; and, one evening 
 after supper, when the sacrifice was offered, 
 Olbius, tutor to Nicogenes’s children, cried out, 
 as in a rapture of inspiration : 
 
 Counsel, O Night, and victory are thine. 
 
 After this, Themistocles ^ went to bed, and 
 I dreamed he saw a dragon coiled round his body, 
 and creeping up to his neck ; which, as soon as it 
 , had touched his face, was turned into an eagle, 
 
 I and covering him with its wings, took him up 
 
 i and carried him to a distant place, where a golden 
 
 ' sceptre appeared to him, upon which he rested 
 securely, and was delivered from all his fear and 
 trouble. 
 
 In consequence of this warning, he was sent 
 away by Nicogenes, who contrived this method 
 for it. The barbarians in general, especially the 
 Persians, are jealous of the women even to mad- 
 ness ; not only of their wives, but their slaves and 
 concubines ; for, beside the care they take that 
 they shall he seen by none but their own family, 
 they keep them like prisoners in their houses ; 
 and when they take a journey, they are put in a 
 carriage close covered on all sides. In such a car- 
 riage as this Themistocles was conveyed, the 
 attendants being instructed to tell those they 
 met, if they happened to be questioned, that they 
 were carrying a Grecian lady from Ionia to a 
 nobleman at court. 
 
 Thucydides and Charon of Lampsacus relate 
 that Xerxes was then dead, and that it was to his 
 son * Artaxerxes that Themistocles addressed 
 himself. But Ephorus, Dinon, Clitarchus, Hera- 
 clides, and several others, write th *■ Xerxes him- 
 self was then upon the throne. The opinion of 
 Thucydides seems most agreeable to chronology, 
 though that is not perfectly well settled. The- 
 mistocles, now ready for the dangerous experi- 
 ment, applied first to Artabanus,f a military 
 officer, and told him, “ He was a Greek, who de- 
 sired to have audience of the king about matters 
 of great importance, which the king himself had 
 much at heart.’’ Artabanus answered, “The 
 laws of men are different ; some esteem one thing 
 honourable, and some another ; but it becomes 
 all men to honour and observe the customs of 
 their own country. With you, the thing most 
 admired is said to be liberty and equality. We 
 have many excellent laws ; and we regard it as 
 one of the most indispensable, to honour the king, 
 and to adore him as the image of that deity who 
 preserves and supports the universe. If, therefore, 
 you are willing to conform to our customs, arid to 
 prostrate yourself before the king, you may be 
 permitted to see him and speak to him. But if 
 
 the loss of victory, he had some consolation, as he 
 was not himself the immediate cause of it, but for 
 his ridiculous return to Asia, his anger could only 
 fall upon himself and Themistocles. 
 
 * Themistocles, therefore, arrived at the Persian 
 court in the first year of the seventy-ninth 
 Olympiad, 462 years before the birth of Christ ; 
 for that was the first year of Artaxerxes’s reign. 
 
 t Son of that Artabanus, captain of the guards, 
 who slew Xerxes, and persuaded Artaxerxes to 
 cut off his elder brother Darius. 
 
 you^ cannot bring yourself to this, you must ac- 
 quaint him with your business by a third person. 
 It would be an infringement of the custom of his 
 country, for the king to admit any one to 
 audience that does not worship him.” To this 
 Themistocles replied, “ My business, Artabanus, 
 is to add to the king’s honour and power; there- 
 fore I will comply with your customs, since the 
 god that has exalted the Persians will have it so ; 
 and by my means the number of the king’s wor- 
 shippers shall be increased. So let this be no 
 hindrance to my communicating to the king what 
 I have to say.” “But who,” said Artabanus, 
 “shall we say you are? for by your discourse you 
 appear to be no ordinary person.” Themistocles 
 answered, “Nobody must know that before the 
 king himself.” So Phanias writes; and Eratos- 
 thenes, in his treatise on riches, adds, that The- 
 mistocles was brought acquainted with Artabanus, 
 and recommended to him by an Eretrian woman, 
 who belonged to that officer. 
 
 When he was introduced to the king, and, after 
 his prostration, stood silent, the king commanded 
 the interpreter to ask him who he was. The in- 
 terpreter accordingly put the question, and he 
 answered, “The man that is now come to address 
 himself to you, O king, is Themistocles the Athe- 
 nian; an exile persecuted by the Greeks. The 
 Persians have suffered much by me, but it has 
 been more than compensated by my preventing 
 ^'■our being pursued ; when after I had delivered 
 Greece, and saved my own country, I had it in 
 my power to do you also a service. My senti- 
 ments are suitable to my present misfortunes, and 
 I come prepared either to receive your favour, if 
 3'’Ou are reconciled to me, or, if you retain any r 
 sentment, to disarm it by my submission. Reject 
 not the testimony m^^ enemies have given to the 
 services I have done the Persians, and make use 
 of the opportunity my misfortunes afford you, 
 rather to show your generosity than to satisfy 
 your revenge. If you save me, you save your 
 suppliant ; if you destroy me, you destroy the 
 enemy of Greece.” * * In hopes of influencing the 
 king by an argument drawn from religion, The- 
 mistocles added to this speech an account of the 
 vision he had in Nicogenes ’s house, and an oracle 
 of Jupiter of Dodona, which ordered him to go to 
 one who bore the same name with the god ; from 
 which he concluded he was sent to him, since both 
 were called, and really were, g^eat kings. 
 
 The king gave him no answer, though he ad- 
 mired his courage and magnanimity; but, with 
 his friends, he felicitated himself upon this, as the 
 most fortunate event imaginable. We are also 
 told, that he prayed to Arimanhis^S that his 
 enemies might ever he so infatuated as to drive 
 from amongst them their ablest men ; that he 
 offered sacrifice to the gods ; and immediately 
 after made a great entertainment ; nay, that he 
 was so affected with joy, that when he retired to 
 rest, in the midst of his sheep, he called out three 
 times, “ I have Themistocles the Athenian.” 
 
 As soon as it was day, he called together his 
 friends, and ordered Themistocles to be brought 
 
 * How extremely abject and" contemptible is 
 this petition, wherein the suppliant founds every 
 argument in his favour upon his vices J 
 
 t The god of darkness, the supposed author of 
 plagues and calamities, was called Ahriman or 
 Arimanius. 
 
96 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 before him. The exile expected no favour, when 
 he found that the guards, at the first hearing of 
 his name, treated him with rancour, and loaded 
 him with reproaches. Nay, when the king had 
 taken his seat, and a respectful silence ensued, 
 Roxanes, one of his officers,^ as Themis^tocles 
 passed him, whispered him with a sigh, “Ah ! 
 thou subtle serpent of Greece, the king s good 
 genius has brought thee hither.” However, when 
 he had prostrated himself twice in the presence, 
 the king saluted him, and spoke to him graciously, 
 telling him, he owed him 200 talents ; for, as he 
 had delivered himself up, it was but just that he 
 should receive the reward offered to any one that 
 should bring him. He promised him much more, 
 assured him of his protection, and ordered him to 
 declare freely whatever he had to propose con- 
 cerning Greece. Themistocles replied, that a 
 man’s discourse was like a piece of tapestry,’' 
 which, when spread open, displays its figures ; but 
 when it is folded up, they are hidden and lost ; 
 therefore he begged time. _The king, delighted 
 with the comparison, bade him take what time he 
 pleased ; and he desired a year : in which space he 
 learned the Persian language, so as to be able to 
 converse with the king without an interpreter. 
 
 Such as did not belong to the court, believed 
 that he entertained their prince on the subject of 
 the Grecian affairs ; but as there were then many 
 changes in the ministry, he incurred the envy of 
 the nobility, who suspected that he had presumed 
 to speak too freely of them to the king. _ The 
 honours that were paid him were far superior to 
 those that other strangers had experienced ; the 
 king took him with him a-hunting, conversed 
 familiarly with him in his palace, and introduced 
 him to the queen mother, who honoured him with 
 her confidence. He likewise gave orders for his 
 being instructed in the learning of the Magi. 
 
 Demaratus, the Lacedaemonian, who was then 
 at court, being ordered to ask a favour, desired 
 that he might be carried through Sardis in royal 
 state, t with a diadem upon his head. But Mith- 
 ropaustes, the king’s cousin-german, took him by 
 the hand, and said, “ Demaratus, this diadem 
 does not carry brains along with it to cover ; nor 
 •would you be Jupit 6 T.j though you should take 
 hold of his thunder.” The king was highly dis- 
 pleased at Demaratus for making this request, 
 and seemed determined never to forgive him ; yet, 
 at the desire of Themistocles, he was persuaded 
 to be reconciled to him. And in the following 
 reigns, when the affairs of Persia and Greece 
 were more closely connected, as oft as the kings- 
 requested a favour of any Grecian captain, they 
 are said to have promised him, in express terms, 
 that he should be a greater man at their court 
 than Themistocles had been. Nay, \ye are told, 
 that Themistocles himself, in the midst of his 
 greatness, and the extraordinary respect that was 
 paid him, seeing his table most elegantly spread, 
 turned to his children, and said. Children, we 
 should have been undone, had it not been for our 
 
 * In this he artfully conformed to the figurative 
 manner of speaking in use among the eastern 
 nations. ^ , -i ♦ 1, 
 
 t This was the highest mark of honour which 
 the Persian kings could give. Ahasuerus, the 
 same with Xerxes, the father of this Artaxerxes, 
 had not long before ordained that Mordecai should 
 be honoured in that manner. 
 
 undoing.” Most authors agree, that he had three 
 cities given him, for bread, wine, and meat. Mag- 
 nesia, Lampsacus, and Myus.* Neanthes of 
 Cyzicus, and Phanias, add two more, Percote and 
 Palsescepsis, for his chamber and his wardrobe. 
 
 Some business relative to Greece having brought 
 him to the sea-coast, a Persian named Epixyes, 
 governor of Upper Phrygia, who had a design 
 upon his life, and had long prepared certain 
 Pisidians to kill him, when he should lodge in a 
 city called Leontocephalus, or Lions Head, now 
 determined to put it in execution. But, as he lay 
 sleeping one day at noon, the mother of the gods 
 is said to have appeared to him in a dream, and 
 thus to have addressed him : “ Beware, Themis- 
 tocles, of the Lion’s Plead, lest the Lion crush 
 you. For this warning I require of you Mnesip- 
 tolema for my servant.” Themistocles awoke in 
 great disorder, and when he had devoutly re- 
 turned thanks to the goddess, left the high road, 
 and took another way, to avoid the place of 
 danger. At night he took up his lodging beyond 
 it ; but as one of the horses that had carried his 
 tent had fallen into a river, and his servants were 
 busied in spreading the wet hangings to dry, the 
 Pisidians, who were advancing with their swords 
 drawn, saw these hangings indistinctly by moon- 
 light, and taking them for the tent oi Ihemis- 
 tocles, expected to find him reposing himself 
 within. They approached, therefore, and lifted 
 up the hangings ; but the servants that had the 
 care of them, fell upon them and took them. 
 The danger thus avoided, Themistocles admiring 
 the goodness of the goddess that appeared to him, 
 built a temple in Magnesia, which he dedicated 
 to Cybele Dindyinene, and appointed his daughter 
 Mnesiptolema priestess of it. _ 
 
 When he was come to Sardis, he diverted him- 
 self with looking upon the ornaments of the 
 temples ; and among the great number of offerings, 
 he found in the temple of Cybele a figure of brass, 
 two cubits high, called Hydrophorus or the water 
 bearer, which he himself, when surveyor of the 
 aqueducts at Athens, had caused to be made and 
 dedicated out of the fines of such as had stolen 
 the water or diverted the stream. Whether it was 
 that he was moved at seeing this statue in a 
 strange country, or that he was desirous to show 
 the Athenians how much he was honoured,! and 
 
 * The country about Magnesia was so fertile, 
 that it brought Themistocles a revenue of fifty 
 talents ; Lampsacus had in its neighbourhood the 
 noblest vineyards of the east; and Myus orMyon 
 abounded in provisions, particularly in fish. .It 
 was usual with the eastern monarchs, instead of 
 pensions to their favourites, to assign them cities 
 and provinces. Even such provinces as the kings 
 retained the revenue of were_ under particular 
 assignments ; one province furnishing so much for 
 v/ine, ail other for victuals, a third for the privy 
 purse, and a fourth for the wardrobe. One of the 
 queens had all Egypt for her clothing ; and Plato 
 tells us (i Alcibiad.) that many of the provinces 
 were appropriated for the queen’s wardrobe ; one 
 for her girdle, another for her head-dress, and so 
 of the rest ; and each province bore the name of 
 that part of the dress it was to furnish. 
 
 It is not improbable that this proceeded from 
 a principle of vanity. The love of admiration was 
 the ruling passion of Themistocles, and discovers 
 itself uniformly through his whole conduct. 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 97 
 
 what power he had all over the king’s dominions, 
 he addressed himself to the governor of Lydia, 
 and begged leave to send back the statue to 
 Athens. The barbarian immediately took fire, 
 and said he would' certainly acquaint the king 
 what sort of a request he had made him. Themis- 
 tocles, alarmed at this menace, applied to the 
 governor’s women, and, by money, prevailed upon 
 them to pacify him. After this, he behaved with 
 more prudence, sensible how much he had to fear 
 from the envy of the Persians. Hence, he did not 
 travel about Asia, as Theopompus says, but took 
 up his abode at Magnesia ; where, loaded with 
 valuable presents, and equally honoured with the 
 Persian nobles, he long lived in great security ; 
 for the king, who was engaged in the affairs of the 
 upper provinces, gave but little attention to the 
 concerns of Greece. 
 
 But when Egypt revolted, and was supported 
 in that revolt by the Athenians, when the Grecian 
 fleet sailed as far as Cyprus and Cilicia, and 
 Cimon rode triumphant master of the seas, then 
 the king of Persia applied himself to oppose the 
 Greeks, and to prevent the growth of their power. 
 He put his forces in motion, sent out his generals, 
 and despatched messengers to Themistocles at 
 Magnesia, to command him to perform his 
 promises, and exert himself against Greece. 
 Did he not obey the summons then? — No — 
 neither resentment against the Athenians, nor 
 the honours and authority in which he now 
 flourished, could prevail upon him to take the 
 direction of the expedition. Possibly he might 
 doubt the event of the war, as Greece had then 
 several great generals ; and Cimon in particular 
 was distinguished with extraordinary success. 
 Above all, regard for his own achievements, and 
 the trophies he had gained, whose glory he was 
 unwilling to tarnish, determined him (as the best 
 rnethod he could take) to put such an end to his 
 life as became his dignity.* * Having, therefore, 
 sacrificed to the gods, assembled his friends, and 
 taken his last leave, he drank bull’s blood, t as is 
 generally reported ; or, as some relate it, he took 
 a quick poison, and ended his days at Magnesia, 
 having lived sixty-five years, most of which he had 
 spent in civil or military employments. When 
 the king w^ acquainted with the cause and 
 manner of his death, he admired him more than 
 ever, and continued his favour and bounty to his 
 friends and relations. J 
 
 There might, however, be another reason which 
 Plutarch has not mentioned. Themistocles was 
 an excellent manager in political religion. He 
 had lately been eminently distinguished by the 
 favour of Cybele. He finds an Athenian statue 
 in her temple. The goddess consents that he 
 should send it to Athens ; and the Athenians, out 
 of respect to the goddess, must of course cease to 
 Iiersecute her favourite Themistocles. 
 
 * Thucydides, who was contemporary with The- 
 mistocles, only says, “ He died of a distemper ; 
 but some report that he poisoned himself, seeing 
 it impossible to accomplish what he had promised 
 the king.” Thucyd. de Bell. Pelepon. 1. i. 
 
 t Whilst they were sacrificing the bull, he 
 caused the blood to be received in a cup, and 
 drank it whilst it was warm, which (according to 
 Pliny) is mortal, because it coagulates or thickens 
 in an instant. 
 
 t There is, in our opinion, more true heroism 
 
 Themistocles had by Archippe, the daughter 
 of Lysander of Alopece, five sons, Neocles, 
 Diodes, Archeptolis, Polyeuctes, and Cleophan- 
 tus. The three last survived him. Plato takes 
 notice of Cleophantus as an excellent horseman, 
 but a man of no merit in other respects. N eocles, 
 his eldest son, died when a child, by the bite of 
 a horse ; and Diodes was adopted by his grand- 
 father Lysander. He had several daughters, 
 namely, Mnesiptolema, by a second wife, who 
 was married to Archeptolis, her half brother; 
 Italia, whose husband was Panthides of Chios; 
 Sibaris, married to Nicomedes the Athenian ; and 
 Nichomache, at Magnesia, to Phrasicles, the 
 nephew of Themistocles, who after her father’s 
 death, took a voyage for that purpose, received 
 her at the hands of her brot.hers, and brought up 
 her sister Asia, the youngest of the children. 
 
 The Magnesians erected a very handsome monu- 
 ment to him, which still remains in the market- 
 place. No credit is to be given to Andocides, who 
 writes to his friends, that the Athenians sto.e his 
 ashes out of the tomb, and scattered them in the 
 i. for it is an artifice of his to exasperate the 
 nobility against the people. Phylarchus, too, 
 more like a writer of tragedy than an historian, 
 availing himself of what may be called a piece of 
 machinery, introduces Neocles and Demopolis as 
 the sons of Themistocles, to make his story more 
 interesting and pathetic. But a very moderate [ 
 degree of sagacity may discover it to be a fiction, j 
 Yet Diodorus the geographer writes in his treatise ! 
 of sepulchres, but rather by conjecture than i 
 certain knov/ledge, that, near the harbour of j 
 Piraeus, from the promontory of Alcimus,* the I 
 land makes an elbow, and when you have doubled 
 it inwards, by the still w^ater there is a vast 
 foundation, upon which stands the tomb of The- 
 mistocles,! in the form of an altar. With him 
 Plato, the cornic writer, is supposed to agree in 
 the following lines : 
 
 Oft as the merchant speeds the passing sail. 
 
 Thy tomb, Themistocles, he stops to hail : 
 
 When ho.stile ships in martial combat meet. 
 
 Thy shade attending hovers o’er the fleet. 
 
 in the death of Themistocles than in the death 
 of Cato. It is something enthusiastically great 
 when a inan determines not to survive his liberty ; 
 but it is something still greater, when he refuses 
 to survive his honour. 
 
 * Meursius rightly corrects it Alimus. We 
 find no place in Attica called Alci^nus, but a 
 borough named Alimus there was, on the east of 
 the Piraeus. 
 
 t Thucydides says, that the bones of Themis- 
 tocles, by his own command, were privately 
 carried back into Attica, and buried there. But 
 Pausanias agrees with Theodorus, that the 
 Athenians, repenting of their ill usage of this 
 great man, honoured him with a tomb in the 
 Piraeus. 
 
 It does not appear, indeed, that Themistocles, 
 when banished, had any design either to revenge 
 himself on Athens, or to take refuge in the court 
 of the king of Persia. The Greeks themselves 
 forced him upon this, or rather the Lacedae- 
 monians ; for as by their intrigues his countrymen 
 were induced to banish him, so by their importuni- 
 ties after he was banished, he was not suffered 
 to enjoy any refuge in quiet. 
 
 H 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 Various honours and privileges were granted I Athenian, with whom_ I had a particular acquaint- 
 hy the Magnesians to the descendants of Themis- I ance and friendship in the house of Ammonius 
 tocles, which continued down to our times ; for 1 the philosopher, 
 they were enjoyed by one of his name, an ! 
 
 CAMILLUS. 
 
 Among the many remarkable things related of 
 Furius Camillus, the most extraordinary seems to 
 be this, that though he was often in the highest 
 commands, and performed the greatest actions, 
 though he was five times chosen dictator, though 
 he triumphed four times, and was styled the 
 “ second founder of Rome,” yet he was never 
 once consul. Perhaps we may discover the reason 
 in the state of the commonwealth at that time : 
 the people then at variance with the senate,* 
 refused to elect consuls, and, instead of thern put 
 the government into the hands of military 
 tribunes. Though these acted, indeed,^ with 
 consular power ' and authority, yet their ad- 
 ministration was less grievous to the people, 
 because they were more in number. _ To have 
 the direction of affairs entrusted to six persons 
 instead of two, was some ease and satisfaction to 
 a people that could not bear to be dictated to by 
 the nobility. Camillus, then distinguished by his 
 achievements and at the height of glory, did not 
 choose to be consul against the inclinations of the 
 people, though the comitia, or assemblies in which 
 they might have elected consuls, were several 
 times held in that period. In all his other com- 
 missions, which were many and various, he so 
 conducted himself, that if he was entrusted with 
 the sole power, he shared it with others, and if he 
 had a colleague, the glory was his own. The 
 authority seemed to be shared by reason of his 
 great modesty in command, which gave no 
 occasion to envy ; and the glor}^ was secured to 
 him by his genius and capacity, in which he was 
 universally allowed to have no equal. 
 
 The family of the Furii t was not very illustrious 
 be ore his time ; he was the first that raised it to 
 distinction, when he served under Posthumius 
 Tabertus in the great battle with the Equi and 
 Volsci. In that action, spurring his horse before 
 the ranks, he received a wound in the thigh, 
 when, instead of retiring, he plucked the javelin 
 out of the wound, engaged with the bravest of 
 the enemy, and put them to flight.! Eoi' this, 
 
 * The old quarrel about the distribution of 
 lands was revived, the people insisting that every 
 citizen should have an equal share. The senate 
 met frequently to disconcert the proposal ; at 
 last Appius Claudius moved, that some of 
 the college of the tribunes of the people should 
 be gained, as the only remedy against the 
 tyranny of that body : which was accordingly 
 put in execution. The commons, thus dis- 
 appointed, chose military tribunes, instead of 
 consuls, and sometimes had them all plebeians. 
 Liv. 1 . iv. c. 48. ^ - .77 / 
 
 t Furius was tlie family name. Camillus (as 
 has been already observed) was an appellation of 
 children of quality who administered in the temple 
 of some god. Our Camillus was the first who 
 retained it as a surname. 
 
 ! This was in the year of Rome 324, when 
 Camillus might be about fourteen or fifteen years 
 
 among other honours, he was appointed censor, 
 an office at that time of great dignity.* There is 
 upon record a very laudable act of his, that took 
 place during his office. As the wars had rnade 
 many widows, he obliged such of the men as lived 
 single, partly by persuasion, and partly by threaten- 
 ing them with fines, to marry those widows. 
 Another act of his, which indeed was absolutely 
 necessary, was, the causing orphans, who before 
 were exempt from taxes, to contribute to the 
 supplies ; for these were very large by reason of 
 the continual wars. What was then most urgent 
 was the siege of Veii, whose inhabitants some call 
 Venetani. This city was the barrier of Tuscany, 
 and, in the quantity of her arms and number of 
 her military, not inferior to Rome. Proud of her 
 wealth, her elegance, and luxury, she had main- 
 tained with the Romans many long and gallant 
 disputes for glory and for power. But humbled 
 by many signal defeats, the Veientes had then 
 bid adieu to that ambition : they satisfied them- 
 selves with building strong and high walls, and 
 filling the city with provisions, arms, and all kinds 
 of warlike stores ; and so they waited for the 
 enemy without fear. The siege was long, but no 
 less laborious and troublesome to the besiegers 
 than to them. For the Romans had long been 
 accustomed to summer campaigns only, and to 
 winter at home ; and then for the first time their 
 officers ordered them to- construct forts, to raise 
 strong works about their camp, and to pass the 
 winter as well as summer in the enemy’s country. 
 
 The seventh year of the war was now almost 
 passed, when the generals began to be blamed ; 
 and as it was thought they showed not sufficient 
 vigour in the siege, t they were superseded, and 
 
 of age (for in the year of Rome 389 he was near 
 fourscore), though the Roman youth did not use 
 to bear arms sooner than seventeen. And though 
 Plutarch says that his gallant behaviour at that 
 time procured him the censorship, yet that was 
 an office which the Ronians never conferred upon 
 a young person ; and, in fact, Camillus was not 
 censor till the year of Rome 353. 
 
 * The authority 'of the censors, in the time of 
 the republic, was very extensive. They had a 
 power to expel senators the house, to degrade the 
 knights, and to disable the commons from giving 
 their votes in the assemblies of the people. But 
 the emperors took the office^ upon themselves ; 
 and, as many of them abused it, it lost its honour, 
 and sometimes the very title was laid aside. As 
 to what Plutarch says, that Camillus, when censor, 
 obliged many of the bachelors to marry the widows 
 of those who had fallen in the wars, that was in 
 pursuance of one of the powers of his office. 
 Ccelibis esse prohihento. 
 
 t Of the six military tribunes of that year, only 
 two, L. Virginius and Manius Sergius, carried on 
 the siege of Veii. Sergius commanded the attack, 
 and Virginius covered the siege. While the army 
 was thus divided, the Falisci and Capenates fell 
 
CAMILLUS, 
 
 99 
 
 others put in their room ; among whom was 
 Camillus, then appointed tribune the second 
 time. * ^ He was not, however, at present con- 
 cerned in the siege, for it fell to his lot to head the 
 expedition against the Falisci and Capenates, 
 who, \yhile the Romans were otherwise employed, 
 committed great depredations in their country, 
 and harassed them during the whole Tuscan war. 
 But Camillus falling upon them, killed great 
 numbers, and shut up the rest within their walls. 
 
 During the heat of the war, a phenomenon ap- 
 peared in the Alban lake, which might be reckoned 
 amongst the strangest prodigies ; and as no com- 
 mon or natural cause could be assigned for it, it 
 occasioned great consternation. The summer was 
 now declining, and the season by no means rainy, 
 nor remarkable for south winds. Of the many 
 springs, brooks, and lakes, which Italy abounds 
 with, some were dried up, and others but feebly 
 resisted the drought ; the rivers always low in the 
 summer, then ran with a veiy slender stream. 
 But the Alban lake, which has its source within 
 itself, and discharges no part of its water, being 
 quite surrounded with mountains, without any 
 cause, unless it was a supernatural one, began to 
 rise and swell in a most remarkable manner, in- 
 creasing till it reached the sides, and at last the 
 very tops of the hills, all which happened without 
 any agitation of its waters. For a while it was 
 the wonder of the shepherds and herdsmen : but 
 when the earth, which like a mole, kept it from 
 overflowing the country below, was broken down 
 with the quantity and weight of water, then 
 descending like a torrent through the ploughed 
 fields and other cultivated grounds to the sea, it 
 not only astonished the Romans, but was thought 
 by all Italy to portend some extraordinary event. 
 
 It was the great subject of conversation in the 
 camp before Veii, so that it came at last to be 
 known to the besieged. 
 
 As in the course of long sieges there is usually 
 some conversation with the enemy, it happened 
 that a Roman soldier formed an acquaintance 
 with one of the townsmen, a man versed in ancient 
 traditions, and supposed to be more than ordinarily 
 skilled in divination. The Roman perceiving that 
 he expressed great satisfaction at the story of the 
 lake, and thereupon laughed at the siege, told 
 him, this was not the only wonder the times had 
 produced, but other prodigies still stranger than 
 this had happened to the Romans; which he 
 should be glad to communicate to him, if by that 
 means he could provide for his own safety in the 
 midst of the public ruin. The man readily 
 hearkening to the proposal, came out to him, ex- 
 pecting to hear some secret, and the Roman con- 
 tinued the discourse, drawing him forward by 
 degrees, till they were at some distance from the 
 gates. Then he snatched him up in his arms 
 and by his superior strength held him, till, with 
 
 upon Sergius, and, at the same time, the besieged 
 sallying out, attacked him on the other side. The 
 Romans under his command, thinking they had 
 all the forces of Hetruria to deal with, began to 
 lose courage, and retire. Virginius could have 
 saved his colleague’s troops, but as Sergius was 
 too proud to send to him for succour, he resolved 
 not to give him any. The enemy, therefore, made 
 a dreadful slaughter of the Romans, in their lines. 
 Liv. lib. v. c. 8. 
 
 * The year of Rome 357. 
 
 the assistance of several soldiers from the camp 
 he was secured and carried before the generals! 
 Ihe man reduced to this necessity, and knowing 
 that destiny cannot be avoided, declared the secret 
 oracles concerning his own country, that the 
 city could never be taken, till the waters of the 
 Alban lake, which had now forsook their bed, and 
 found new passages, were turned back, and so 
 diverted, as to prevent their mixing with the 
 sea.’^ 
 
 The senate, informed of this prediction, and 
 deliberating about it, were of opinion, it would 
 be best to send to Delphi to consult the oracle, 
 ihey chose for this purpose three persons of 
 honour and distinction, Licinius Cossus, Valerius 
 Potitus, and F abius Ambustus ; who, having had 
 a prosperous voyage, and consulted Apollo, re- 
 turned with this among other answers — that they 
 had neglected some ceremonies in the Latin 
 feasts, t As to the water of the Alban lake, they 
 were ordered, if possible, to shut it up in its 
 ancient bed : or, if that could not be effected to 
 and trenches for it, till it lost itself on 
 the land. Agreeably to this direction, the priests 
 were employed in offering sacrifices, and the 
 people in labour, to turn the course of the water.! 
 
 In the tenth year of the siege, the senate 
 ^moved the other magistrates, and appointed 
 Camillus dictator, who made choice of Cornelius 
 Scipio for his general of horse. In the first place 
 he made vows to the gods, if they favoured him 
 with putting a glorious period to the war, to 
 celebrate the great circensian games to their 
 honour, § and to consecrate the temple of the 
 goddess whom the Rornans call the mother Ma- 
 tuta. By her sacred rites we may suppose this 
 last to be the goddess Leucothea. For they take 
 a female slave into the inner part of the temple, ll 
 where they beat her, and then drive her out • 
 then carry their brothers’ children in their arms 
 instead of their own ; and they represent in the 
 ceremonies of the sacrifice all that happened to 
 the nurses of Bacchus, and what Ino suffered for 
 having saved the son of Juno’s rival. 
 
 After these vows, Camillus penetrated into the 
 country of the Falisci, and in a great battle over- 
 g^rew them and their auxiliaries the Capenates. 
 Then he turned to the siege of Veii ; and perceiv- 
 ing It would be both difficult and dangerous to 
 endeavour to take it by assault, he ordered mines 
 
 * The prophecy, according to Livy (1. v c 15) 
 was this, “Veii shall never be taken till all the 
 water is run out of the lake of Alba.” 
 
 t These feasts were instituted by Tarquin the 
 Proud. The Romans presided in them ; but all 
 the people of Latium were to attend them, and 
 to partake of a bull then sacrificed to Jupiter 
 Latialis. 
 
 t This wonderful work subsists to this day, 
 and the waters of the lake Albano run through it! 
 
 _ § These were a kind of tournament in the great 
 circus. 
 
 II Leucothoe or Ino was jealous of one of her 
 female slaves who was the favourite of her hus- 
 band Athamas. 
 
 •[[ Ino was a very unhappy mother ; for she had 
 seen her son Learchus slain by her husband 
 whereupon she threw herself into the sea with her 
 other son Melicertes. But she was a more fortu- 
 nate aunt, having preserved Bacchus the son of 
 her sister Semele. 
 
to be dug, the soil about the city being easy to 
 work, and admitting of depth enough for the 
 works to be carried on unseen by the enemy. As 
 this succeeded to his wish, he made an assault 
 without, to call the enemy to the walls ; and, in 
 the mean time, others of his soldiers made their 
 way through the mines, and secretly penetrated 
 to Juno’s temple in the citadel. This was the 
 most considerable temple in the city ; and we are 
 told, that at that instant the Tuscan general 
 happened to be sacrificing ; when the soothsayer, 
 upon inspection of the entrails, cried out, 
 gods promise victory to him that shall finish this 
 sacrifice ; ” * the Rom.ans, who were under-ground, 
 hearing what he said, immediately removed the 
 pavement, and came out with loud shouts and 
 clashing their arms, which struck the enemy with 
 such terror, that they fled, and left the entrails, 
 which were carried to Camillus. But perhaps 
 this has more ot the air of fable than of history. 
 
 The city thus taken by the Romans, sword in 
 hand, while they were busy in plundering it and 
 carrying off its immense riches, Camillus behold- 
 ing from the citadel what was done, at first burst 
 into tears : and when those about him began to 
 magnify his happiness, he lifted up his^ hands 
 towards heaven, and uttered this prayer : “Great 
 Jupiter, and ye gods that have the inspection of 
 our good and evil actions, ye know that the 
 Romans, not without just cause, but in their own 
 defence, and constrained by necessity, have made 
 war against this city, and their enemies its unjust 
 inhabitants. If we must have some misfortune 
 in lieu of this success, I entreat that it m.ay fall, 
 not upon Rome or the Roman army, but upon 
 myself: yet lay not, ye gods, a heavy hand upon 
 me ! ” t Having pronounced these words, he 
 turned to the right, as the manner of the Romans 
 is after prayer and supplication, but fell in turn- 
 ing. His friends that were by, expressed great 
 uneasiness at the accident, but he soon recovered 
 himself from the fall, and told them, “It was only 
 a small inconvenience after great success, agree- 
 able to his prayer.” t . 
 
 After the city was pillaged, he determined, 
 pursuant to his vow, to remove this statue of Juno 
 to Rome. The workmen were assembled for the 
 
 * Words spoken by persons unconcerned in 
 their affairs, and upon a quite different subject, 
 were interpreted by the heathens as good or bad 
 omens, if they happened to be any way applicable 
 to their case. And they took great pains to fulfil 
 the omen, if they thought it fortunate ; as well as 
 to evade it, if it appeared unlucky. 
 
 t Livy, who has given us this prayer, has not 
 qualified it with that modification so unworthy of 
 Camillus, ety e^uauTOv e\axio’T&) KaKO) reXevrriaat, 
 “ may it be with as little detriment as possible to 
 myself ! ” On the contrary, he says, nt ea7Ji 
 invidicim leniTe suo pTivato i7ico77i7nodo, quam 
 ttiifinno publico populi Ro7na7ii liceTtt. Camillus 
 prayed, that, if this success must have an equiva- 
 lent in some ensuing misfortunes, that misfortune 
 might fall upon himself, and the Rornan people 
 escape with as little detriment as possible. This 
 was great and heroic. Plutarch having but an 
 imperfect knowledge of the Roman language, 
 probably mistook the sense. 
 
 I Livy tells us, it was conjectured from the 
 event, that this fall of Camillus was a presage of 
 his condemnation and banishment. 
 
 purpose, and he offered sacrifice to the goddess, 
 beseeching her to accept of their homage, and 
 graciously to take up her abode among the gods 
 of Rome. To which, it is said, the statue softly 
 answered, she was willing and ready to do it. 
 But Livy says, Camillus, in offering, up his pe- 
 tition, touched the iniage of the goddess, and 
 entreated her to go with them, and that some of 
 the standers by answered, that she consented, and 
 would willingly follow them. Those that support 
 and defend the miracle, have the fortune of Rome 
 on their side, which could never have risen from 
 such small and contemptible beginnings to that 
 height of glory and empire, without the constant 
 assistance of some god, who favoured them with 
 many considerable tokens of his presence. Several 
 miracles of a similar nature are also alleged ; as, 
 that images have often sweated ; that they have 
 been heard to groan ; and that sometimes they 
 have turned from their votaries, and shut tlieir 
 eyes. Many such accounts we have from our 
 ancients ; and not a few persons of our own times 
 have given us wonderful relations, not unworthy 
 of notice. But to give entire credit to them, or 
 altogether to disbelieve them, is equally danger- 
 ous, on account of human weakness. We keep 
 not always within the bounds of reason, nor are 
 masters of our minds ! Sometimes we fall into 
 vain superstition, and sometimes into an impious 
 neglect of all religion. It is best to be cautious, 
 and to avoid extremes.* 
 
 Whether it was that Camillus was elated with 
 his great exploit in taking a city that was the 
 rival of Rome, after it had been besieged ten 
 years, or that he was misled by his flatterers, he 
 took upon him too much state for a magistrate 
 subject to the laws and usages of his country : for 
 his triumph was conducted with excessive pomp, 
 and he rode through Rome in a chariot drawn by 
 four white horses, which no general ever did 
 before or after him. Indeed, this sort of carriage 
 is esteemed sacred, and is appropriated to the 
 king and father of the gods.t The citizens, there- 
 fore, considered this unusual appearance of gran- 
 deur as an insult upon them. Besides, they were 
 offended at his opposing the law by which the city 
 was to be divided. For their tribunes had pro- 
 posed that the senate and people should be 
 divided into two equal parts ; one part to remain 
 at Rome, and the other, as the lot happened to 
 fall, to remove to the conquered city, by which 
 means they would not only have more room, but 
 by being in possession of two considerable cities, 
 be better able to defend their territories, and to 
 watch over their prosperity. The people, who 
 were very numerous, and enriched by the late 
 plunder, constantly assembled in the fortim,, and 
 in a tumultuous manner demanded to have it put 
 to the vote, ^ut the senate and other principal 
 citizens considered this proposal of the tribunes 
 not so much the dividing as the destroying of 
 Rome, I and in their uneasiness applied to Ca- 
 millus. Camillus was afraid to put it to the trial. 
 
 * The great Mr. Addison seems to have had 
 this passage of Plutarch in his eye, when he 
 delivered his opinion concerning the doctrine of 
 witches. 
 
 t He likewise coloured his lace with vermilion, 
 the colour with which the statues of the gods 
 were commonly painted. 
 
 { They feared that two such cities would, by 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
CAMILLUS. joi 
 
 and therefore invented demurs and pretences of 
 delay, to prevent the bills being offered to the 
 people ; by which he incurred their displeasure. 
 
 But the greatest and most manifest cause of 
 their hatred was, his behaviour with respect to 
 the tenths of the spoils : and if the resentment 
 of the people was not in this case altogether just, 
 j^et it had some show of reason. It seems he had 
 made a vow, as he marched to Veii, that if he 
 took the city, he would consecrate the tenths to 
 Apollo. But when the city was taken, and came 
 to be pillaged, he was either unwilling to interrupt 
 his men, or in the hurry had forgotten his vow, 
 and so gave up the whole plunder to them. After 
 he had resigned his dictatorship, he laid the case 
 before the senate : and the soothsayers declared, 
 that the sacrifices announced the anger of the 
 gods, which ought to be appeased by offerings 
 expressive of their gratitude for the favours they 
 had received. The senate then made a decree, 
 that the plunder should remain with the soldiers 
 (for they knew not how to manage it otherwise), 
 but that each should produce, upon oath, the 
 tenth of the value of what he had got. This was 
 a great hardship upon the soldiers ; and those poor 
 fellows could not without force be brought to 
 refund so large a portion of the fruit of their 
 labours, and to make good not only what they 
 had hardly earned, but now actually spent. Ca- 
 millus, distressed with their complaints, for want 
 of a better excuse, made use of a very absurd 
 apology, by acknowledging he had forgotten his 
 vow. This they greatly resented, that having 
 then vowed the tenths of the enemies’ goods, he 
 should now exact the tenths of the citizens. 
 However, they all produced their proportion, 
 and it was resolved that a vase of massy gold 
 should be made and sent to Delphi. But as there 
 was a scarcity of gold in the city, while the magis- 
 trates were considering how to procure it, the 
 Roman matrons met, and having consulted among 
 themselves, gave up their golden ornaments, which 
 weighed eight talents, as an offering to the god. 
 And the senate, in honour of their piety, decreed 
 that they should have funeral orations as well as 
 the men, which had not been the custom before.* 
 They then sent three of the chief nobility am- 
 bassadors in a large ship, well manned, and fitted 
 out in a manner becoming so solemn an occasion. 
 
 In this voyage, they were equally endangered 
 by a storm and a calm, but escaped beyond all 
 expectation, when on the brink of destruction. 
 For the wind slackening near the .^Eolean islands, 
 the galleys of the Lipareans gave them chase as 
 pirates. Upon their stretching out their hands 
 for mercy, the Lipareans used no violence to 
 their persons, but towed the ship into harbour, 
 and there exposed both them and their goods to 
 sale, havmg first adjudged them to be lawful prize. 
 
 With much difficulty, how'^ever, they were pre- 
 vailed upon to release them, out of regard to the 
 merit and authority of Timesitheus, the chief 
 magistrate of the place ; who, moreover, conveyed 
 them with his own vessels, and assisted in dedi- 
 cating the gift. For this, suitable honours were 
 paid him at Rome. 
 
 And now the tytbzmes of the people attempted 
 to bring the law for removing part of the citizens 
 to Veil once more upon the carpet; but the war 
 with the F ahsci very seasonably intervening, put 
 the management of the elections in the hands of 
 the patricians ; and they nominated Camillus a 
 military tribune f together with five others ; as 
 affairs then required a general of considerable 
 dignity, reputation, and experience. When the 
 people had confirmed this nomination, Camillus 
 marched his forces into the country of the Falisci, 
 and laid siege to Falerii, a city well fortified, and 
 proyided_ in all respects for the war. He was 
 sei^iole it was like to be no easy affair, nor soon 
 to be despatched, and this w'as one reason for his 
 engaging in it ; for he was desirous to keep the 
 citizens employed abroad, that they might not 
 have leisure to sit down at home and raise tumults 
 and seditions. This was, indeed, a remedy which 
 the Romans always had recourse to, like good 
 physic.ans, to expel dangerous humours from the 
 body politic. 
 
 The Falerians, trusting to the fortifications with 
 which they were surrounded, made so little 
 account of the siege, that the inhabitants, except 
 those who guarded the walls, walked the streets 
 in their common habits. The boys too went to 
 school, and the master took them out to walk and 
 about the walls. For the Falerians, like 
 the Greeks, chose to have their children bred at 
 one public school, that they might betimes be ac- 
 customed to the same discipline, and form them- 
 selves to friendship and society. 
 
 This schoolmaster, then, designing to betray 
 the Falerians by means of their children, took 
 them every day out of the city to exercise, keep- 
 ing pretty close to the walls at first, and when 
 their exercise was over, led them in again. By 
 degrees he took them out farther, accustoming 
 them to divert themselves freely, as if they had 
 nothing to fear. At last, having got them all 
 together, he brought them to the Roman advanced 
 guard, and delivered them up to be carried to 
 Camillus. When he came into his presence, he 
 said he was the schoolmaster of Falerii, ’but 
 preferring his favour to the obligations of duty, 
 he came to deliver up those children to him, and 
 in them the whole citj’^. This action appeared 
 very shocking to Camillus, and he said to those 
 that were by, “ War (at best) is a savage thing, 
 and wades through a sea of violence and injus- 
 tice ; yet even war itself has its laws, which men 
 of honour will not depart from ; nor do they so 
 pursue victory, as to avail themselves of acts of 
 villainy and baseness. Fora great general should 
 rely only on his own virtue, and not upon the 
 treachery of others." Then he ordered the lictors 
 to tear off the wretch’s clothes, to tie his hands 
 behind him, and furnish the bo3’^s with rods and 
 scourges, to punish the traitor, and whip him into 
 the city. By this time the Falerians had dis- 
 covered the schoolmaster’s treason ; the city, as 
 
 degrees, become two different states, which, after 
 a destructive war with each other, would at 
 length fall a prey to their common enemies. 
 
 * The matrons had the value of the gold paid 
 them : and it was not on this occasion, but after- 
 wards, when they contributed their golden orna- 
 ments to make up the sum demanded by the 
 ^auls, that funeral orations were granted them. 
 1 ne privilege they were now' favoured with, was 
 leave to ride in chariots at the public games and 
 sacrifices, and in open carriages, of a less honour- 
 able sort, on other occasions, in the streets. 
 
 The year of Rome 361. Camillus was then 
 military tnbune the third time. 
 
 ■ — 
 
102 
 
 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 might be expected, was full of lamentations for so 
 great a loss, and the principal inhabitants, both 
 men and women, crowded about the walls and the 
 gate like persons distracted. In the midst of this 
 disorder they espied the boys whipping on their 
 master, naked and bound, and calling Camillus 
 their god, their deliverer, their father. Not only 
 the parents of those children, but all the citizens 
 in general were struck with admiration at the 
 spectacle, and conceived such an affection for the 
 justice of Camillus, that they immediately as- 
 sembled in council, and sent deputies to surrender 
 to him both themselves and their city. 
 
 Camillus sent them to Rome : and when^they 
 were introduced to the senate, they said, “T.he 
 Romans, in preferring justice to conquest, have 
 taught us to be satisfied with submission instead 
 of liberty. At the same time, we declare we do 
 not think ourselves so much beneath you in 
 strength as inferior in virtue.’’ The senate re- 
 ferred the disquisition and settling of the articles 
 of peace to Camillus ; who contented himself with 
 taking a sum of money of the Falerians, and 
 having entered into alliance with the whole nation 
 of the Falisci, returned to Rome. 
 
 But the soldiers, who expected to have had the 
 plundering of Falerii, when they came back 
 empty-handed, accused Camillus to their fellow- 
 citizens as an enemy to the commons, and one 
 that maliciously opposed the interest of the poor. 
 And when the tribunes again proposed the law 
 for transplanting part of the citizens to Veii,* * * * § and 
 summoned the people to give their votes, Camillus 
 spoke very freely, or rather with much asperity 
 against it, appearing remarkably violent in his 
 opposition to the people J who therefore lost their 
 bill, but harboured a strong resentment against 
 Camillus. Even the misfortune he had in his 
 family, of losing one of his sons, did not in the 
 least mitigate their rage ; though, as a man of 
 great goodness and tenderness of heart, he was 
 inconsolable for his loss, and shut himself up at 
 home, a close mourner with the women, at the 
 same time that they were lodging an impeachment 
 against him. 
 
 His accuser was Lucius Apuleius, who brought 
 against him a charge of fraud with respect to the 
 Tuscan spoils ; and it was alleged that certain 
 brass gates, a part of those spoils, were found 
 with him. The people were so much exasperated, 
 that it was plain they would lay hold on any pre- 
 text to condemn him. He, therefore, assembled 
 his friends, his colleagues, and fellow-soldiers, a 
 great number in all, and begged of them not to 
 suffer him to be crushed by false and unjust 
 accusations, and exposed to the scorn of his 
 enemies. When they had consulted together, 
 and fully considered the affair, the aipwer they 
 gave was, that they did not believe it in their 
 power to prevent the sentence, but they^ would 
 willingly assist him to pay the fine that might be 
 laid upon him. He could not, however, bear the 
 
 * The patricians carried it against the bill, only 
 by a majority of one tribe. And now they were 
 so well pleased with the people, that^ the very 
 next morning a decree was passed, assigning six 
 acres of the lands of Veii, not only to every father 
 of a family, but to every single person of free con- 
 dition. On the other hand, the people, delighted 
 with this liberality, allowed the electing of consuls 
 instead of military tribunes. 
 
 thoughts of so great an indignity, and giving way 
 to his resentment, determined to quit the city as 
 a voluntary exile. Having taken leave of his 
 wife and children, he went in silence from his 
 house to the gate of the city. * There he made a 
 stand, and turning about, stretched out his hands 
 towards the Capitol, and prayed to the gods, 
 that if he was driven out without any fault of 
 his own, and merely by the violence or envy of 
 the people, the Romans might quickly repent it, 
 and express to all the world their want of Camillus, 
 and their regret for his absence. 
 
 When he had thus, like Achilles, uttered his 
 imprecations against his countrymen, he de- 
 parted ; and leaving his cause undefended, he 
 was condemned to pay a fine of 15,000 uses;. 
 which, reduced to Grecian money, is ^ 1500 
 drachmce : for the as is a small coin that is the 
 tenth part of a piece of silver, which for that 
 reason is called de 7 tarius, and answers to our 
 drach^na. There is not a man in Rome who does 
 not believe that these imprecations of Camillus 
 had their effect ; though the punishment of his 
 countrymen for their injustice, proved no ways 
 agreeable to him, but on the contrary matter of 
 grief. Yet how great, how memorable was that 
 punishment ! how remarkably did vengeance pur- 
 sue the Romans ! what danger, destruction, and 
 disgrace, did those times bring upon the city_ ! 
 whether it was the work of fortune, or whether it 
 is the office of some deity to see that virtue shall 
 not be oppressed by the ungrateful with impunity, t 
 
 The first token of the approaching calamities 
 was the death of Julius the Cejtsor.X For the 
 Romans have a particular veneration for the cen- 
 sor, and look upon his office as sacred. A second 
 token happened a little before the exile of Capil- 
 lus. Marcus Ceditius, a man of no illustrious 
 family indeed, nor of senatorial rank, but a person 
 of great probity and virtue, informed the military 
 tribunes of a matter which deserved great atten- 
 tion. As he was going the night before along 
 what is called the New Road, he said he was ad- 
 dressed in a loud voice. Upon turning about he 
 saw nobody, but heard these words in an accent 
 more than human, “ Go, Marcus Ceditius, and 
 early in the morning acquaint the magistrates, 
 that they must shortly expect the Gauls.” But 
 the tribunes made a jest of the information ; and 
 soon after followed the disgrace of Camillus. _ 
 
 The Gauls are of Celtic origin, § and are said to 
 have left their country, which was too small to 
 
 * This was four years after the taking of 
 Falerii. 
 
 t It was the goddess Nemesis whom the 
 heathens believed to have the office of punishing 
 evil actions in this world, particularly pride and 
 ingratitude. 
 
 X The Greek text as it now stands, instead of 
 the censor Julius, has the month of July ; but 
 that has been owing to the error of some ignorant 
 transcriber. Upon the death of Caius Julius the 
 censor, Marcus Cornelius was appointed to suc- 
 ceed him : but as the censorship of the latter 
 proved unfortunate, ever after, when a censor 
 happened to die in his office, they not only forbore 
 naming another in his place, but obliged his 
 colleague, too, to quit his dignity. 
 
 § The ancients called all the inhabitants of the 
 west and north, as far as Scythia, by the common 
 name of Celtae. 
 
C A MILL US, 
 
 103 
 
 eir vast numbers, to go in search of 
 another. These emigrants consisted of many 
 thousands of young and able warriors, with a still 
 greater number of women and children. Part of 
 them took their route towards the northern ocean, 
 crossed the Rhiphsean mountains, and settled in 
 the extreme parts of Europe ; and part established 
 themselves for a long time between the Pyrenees 
 and the Alps, near the Senones and Celtorians.* 
 But happening to taste of wine, which was then 
 for the first time brought out of Italy, they so 
 much admired the liquor, and were so enchanted 
 with this nev/ pleasure, that they snatched up 
 their arms, and taking their parents along with 
 them, marched to the Aips,t to seek that country 
 which produced such excellent fruit, and, in com- 
 parison of which, they considered all others as 
 barren and ungenial. 
 
 The inan that first carried wine amongst them, 
 and excited them to invade Italy, is said to have 
 been Aruns, a Tuscan, a man of some distinction, 
 and not naturally disposed to mischief, but led to 
 it by his misfortunes. He was guardian to an 
 orphan named Lucumo,J of the greatest fortune 
 in the country, and most celebrated for beauty. 
 Aruns brought him up from a boy, and when 
 grown up, he still continued at his house, upon a 
 pretence of enjoying his conversation. Meanwhile 
 he had corrupted his guardian’s wnfe, or she had 
 corrupted him, and for a long time the criminal 
 commerce was carried on undiscovered. At length 
 their passion becoming so violent, that they could 
 neither restrain nor conceal it, the yotmg man 
 carried her off, and attempted to keep her openly. 
 Ihe husband endeavoured to find his redress at 
 law, but was disappointed by the superior interest 
 and wealth of Lucumo. He therefore quitted his 
 o\ra country, and having heard of the enterprising 
 spirit of the Gauls, went to them, and conducted 
 their armies into Italy. 
 
 In their first expedition they soon possessed 
 themselves of that country which stretches out 
 from the Alps to both seas. That this of old be- 
 longed to the Tuscans, the names themselves are 
 a proof: for the sea which lies to the north is 
 called the Adriatic from a Tuscan city named 
 Adria, and that on the other side to the south is 
 called the Tuscan Sea. All that country is well 
 planted with trees, has excellent pastures, and is 
 well watered with rivers. It contained eighteen 
 considerable cities, whose manufactures and trade 
 procured them the gratifications of luxury. The 
 Gauls expelled the Tuscans, and made themselves 
 masters of these cities ; but this was done long 
 before. 
 
 * The country of the Senones contained Sens, 
 Auxerre, and Troyes, as far up as Paris. \VTio 
 the Celtorii were is not known : probably the word 
 is corrupted. 
 
 t Livy tells us, Italy was known to the Gauls 
 200 years before, though he does indeed mention 
 the story of Aruns. Then he goes on to inform 
 us, that the migrations of the Gauls into Italy and 
 other countries was occasioned by their numbers 
 being too large for their old settlements ; and 
 that the two brothers Beliovesus and Sigoresus 
 casting lots to determine which way they should ? 
 ^eer their course, Italy fell to Beliovesus, and : 
 Germany to Sigovesus. 
 
 X Liicu7fiow2LS not the name but the title of the ! 
 young man. He was Lord of a L-iccznnojiy. | 
 
 The Gauls were now besieging Clusium, a city 
 of Tuscany. The Clusians applied to the Romans, 
 entreating them to send ambassadors and letters 
 pD the barbarians. Accordingly they sent three 
 illustrious persons of the Fabian family, who had 
 borne the highest employments in the state. ITie 
 j Gauls received them courteously on account of 
 the name of Rome, and putting a stop to their 
 : operations against the town, came to a conference. 
 
 ■ But when they were asked what injury they had 
 : received from the Clusians that they came against 
 j their city, Brennus, king of the Gauls, smiled and 
 j said, “The injury the Clusians do us, is their 
 keeping to themselves a large tract of ground, 
 when they can only cultivate a small one, and 
 reusing to give up a part of it to us who are 
 strangers, numerous, and poor. In the same 
 manner you Romans were injured formerly by 
 the Albans, the Fidenates, and the Ardeates, and 
 lately by the people of Veii and Capenae, and the 
 greatest part of the Falisci and the Volsci. Ujwn 
 these you make war ; if they refuse to share wath 
 you their goods, you enslave their persons, lay 
 waste their country, and demolish their cities. 
 Nor are your proceedings dishonourable or un- 
 just ; for you follow the most ancient of laws, 
 which directs the weak to obey the strong, from 
 the Creator even to the irrational part of the 
 creation, that are taught by nature to make use 
 of the advantage their strength affords them 
 against the feeble. Cease then to express your 
 compassion for the Clusians, lest you teach the 
 Gauls in their turn to commiserate those that have 
 been oppressed by the Romans.” 
 
 By this answer the Romans clearly perceived 
 that Brennus would come to no terms ; and there- 
 fore they went into Clusium, where they en- 
 couraged and animated the in^bitants to a sally 
 against the barbarians, either to make trial of the 
 strength of the Clusians, or to show their own. 
 The Clusians made the sally, and a sharp conflict 
 ensued near the walls, when Quintus Ambustus, 
 one of the Fabii, spurred his horse against a 
 Gaul of extraordinary size and figure, who had 
 advanced a good way before the ranks. At first 
 he was not known, because the encounter was hot, 
 and his armour d^zled the eyes of the beholders ; 
 but when he had overcome and killed the Gaul, 
 and came to despoil him of his arms, Brennus 
 knew him, and called the gods to witness, that 
 against all the laws and usages of mankind which 
 were esteemed the most sacred and inviolable, 
 Ambustus came as an ambassador, but acted as 
 an enemy. He drew off his men directly, and 
 bidding the Clusians farewell, led his army to- 
 wards Rome. But that he might not seem to 
 rejoice that such an affront was offered, or to have 
 wanted a pretext for hostilities, he sent to demand 
 the offender in order to punish him, and in the 
 mean time advanced but slowly. 
 
 The herald being arrived, the senate was assem- 
 bled, and many spoke against the Fabii ; particu- 
 larly the priests called feciales represented the 
 action as an offence against religion, and adjured 
 the senate to lay the whole guilt and the expiation 
 of it upon the person who alone was to blame, and 
 so to avert the wrath of heavtn from the rest of 
 the Romans. These feciales were appointed by 
 Numa, the mildest and justest of kings, con- 
 
 Hetniria was divided into principalities called 
 Lucu7nonies. 
 
104 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 servators of peace, as well as judges to give 
 sanction to the just causes of war. The senate 
 referred the matter to the people, and the priests 
 accused Fabius with the same ardour before them, 
 but such was the disregard they expressed _ for 
 their persons, and such their contempt of religion, 
 that they constituted that very Fabius and his 
 brethren viilitary tribunes.* 
 
 As soon as the Gauls were informed of this, 
 they were greatly enraged, and would no longer 
 delay their march, but hastened forward with the 
 utmost celerity. Their prodigious numbers, their 
 glittering arms, their fury and impetuosity, struck 
 terror wherever they came ; the people gave up 
 their lands for lost, not doubting but the cities 
 would soon follow : however, what was beyond 
 all expectation, they injured no man’s property : 
 they neither pillaged the fields nor insulted the 
 cities ; and as they passed by, they cried out, 
 “They were going to Rome, they were at war 
 with the Romans only, and considered all others 
 as their friends.” 
 
 While the barbarians were going forward in this 
 impetuous manner, the tribunes led out their forces 
 to battle, in number not inferior! (for they con- 
 sisted of 40,000 foot), but the greatest part undis- 
 ciplined, and such as had never handled a weapon 
 before. Besides, they paid no attention to re- 
 ligion, having neither propitiated the gods by 
 sacrifice, nor consulted the soothsayers as was 
 their duty in time of danger, and before an 
 engagement. Another thing which occasioned 
 no small confusion, was the number of persons 
 joined in the command ; whereas before, they 
 had often appointed for wars of less consideration 
 a single leader, whom they call dictator, sensible 
 of how great consequence it is to good order and 
 success, at a dangerous crisis, to be actuated as 
 it were with one soul, and to have the absolute 
 command invested in one person. Their un- 
 grateful treatment of Camillus, too, was not the 
 least unhappy circumstance ; as it now appeared 
 dangerous for the generals to use their authority 
 without some flattering indulgence to the people. 
 
 In this condition they marched out of the city, 
 and encamped about eleven miles from it, on the 
 banks of the river Allia, not far from its confluence 
 with the Tiber. There the barbarians came upon 
 them, and as the Romans engaged in a disorderly 
 manner, they were shamefullj'^ beaten and put to 
 flight. Their left wing was soon pushed into the 
 river, and there destroyed. The right wing, 
 which quitted the field to avoid the charge, and 
 gained the hills, did not suffer so much ; many of 
 them escaping to Rome. The rest that survived 
 the carnage, when the enemy was satiated with 
 blood, stole by night to Veii, concluding that 
 Rome was lost, and its inhabitants put to the 
 sword. 
 
 This battle was fought v/hen the moon was at 
 full, about the summer solstice, the very same 
 day that the slaughter of the Fabii happened 
 long before,! when 300 of them were cut off by 
 
 the Tuscans. The second misfortune, however, 
 so much effaced the memory of the first, that the 
 day is still called the day ^ Allia, from the river 
 of that name. 
 
 As to the point, whether there be any lucky or 
 unlucky days,* and whether Heraclitus was right 
 in blaming Hesiod for distinguishing them into 
 fortunate and unfortunate, as not knowing that 
 the nature of all days is the same, we have con- 
 sidered it in another place. But on this occasion 
 perhaps it may not be amiss to mention a few 
 examples. The Boeotians, on the fifth of the 
 month which they call Hippodromhts and the 
 Hecatombceon [July] gained two signal 
 victories, both of which restored liberty to Greece ; 
 the one at Leuctra ; the other at Geraestus, above 
 200 years before,! when they defeated Lattamyas 
 and the Thessalians. On the other hand, the 
 Persians were beaten by the Greeks on the sixth 
 of Boedroi 7 iio 7 t [September] at Marathon, on the 
 third of Platsea, as also Mycale, and on the 
 twenty-sixth at Arbeli. About the full moon of 
 the same month, the Athenians, under the con- 
 duct of Chabrias, were victorious in the sea-fight 
 near Naxos, and on the twentieth they gained the 
 victory of Salamis, as we have, mentioned in the 
 treatise concerning days. The month Thargelio 7 t 
 [May] was also reckoned unfortunate to the bar- 
 barians : for in that month Alexander defeated 
 the king of Persia’s generals near the Granicus ; 
 and the Carthaginians were beaten by Timoleon 
 in Sicily on the twenty-fourth of the same ; a day 
 still more remarkable (according to Ephorus, 
 Callisthenes, Demaster, and Phylarchus) for the 
 taking of Troy. On the contrary, the month 
 Metagit 7 iion [August] which thie Boeotians call 
 Pa 7 ie 7 nus, was very unlucky to the Greeks ; for 
 on the seventh they were beaten by Antipater 
 in the battle of Cranon and utterly ruined, and 
 before that, they were defeated by Philip at 
 Chaeronea. And on that same day and month 
 and year, the troops which under Archidamus 
 made a descent upon Italy, were cut to pieces by 
 the barbarians. The Carthaginians have set a 
 mark upon the twenty-second of that month, as 
 a day that has always brought upon them the 
 greatest of calamities. At the same time I am 
 not ignorant that about the time of the celebration 
 of the mysteries, Thebes was demolished ^ by 
 Alexander ; and after that, on the same twentieth 
 of Boed 7 'omion [September] a day sacred to the 
 solemnities of Bacchus, the _ Athenians were 
 obliged to receive a Macedonian garrison. On 
 
 * The ancients deemed some days lucky and 
 others unlucky, either from some occult power 
 which they supposed to be in numbers, or from 
 the nature of the deities who presided over them, 
 or else from observation of fortunate or unfortu- 
 nate events having often happened on particular 
 days. 
 
 ! The Thessalians under the command of Lat- 
 tamyas were beaten by the Boeotians not long 
 before the battle of Thermopylae, and little more 
 than one hundred years before the battle of 
 Leuctra. There is also an error here in the name 
 of the place, probably introduced by some blunder- 
 ing transcriber (for Plutarch must have been well 
 acquainted with the names of places in Boeotia). 
 Instead of Geraestus, we should read Ceressus ; 
 the former was a promontory in Euboea, the latter 
 was a fort in Boeotia. 
 
 * The year of Rome 366 ; or (according to some 
 chronologers) 365. 
 
 They were inferior in number ; for the Gauls 
 were 70,000; and therefore the Romans, when 
 they came to action, were obliged to extend their 
 wings so as to make their centre very thin, which 
 was one reason of their being soon broken. 
 
 X The sixteenth of July. 
 
CAMILLUS, 
 
 one and the same day the Romans under the 
 command of Caepio, were stripped of their camp 
 by the Cimbri, and afterwards under Lucullas 
 conquered Tigranes and the Armenians. King 
 Attains and Pompey the Great both died on their 
 birthdays. And I could give account of many 
 others who on the same day at different periods 
 have experienced both good and bad fortune. Be 
 that as It may, the Romans marked the day of 
 their defeat at Allia as unfortunate ; and as super- 
 stitious fears generally increase upon a misfortune, 
 they not only distinguished that as such, but the 
 two next that follow it in every month throughout 
 the year. 
 
 If after so decisive a battle the Gauls had im- 
 mediately pursued the fugitives, there would 
 have been nothing to hinder the entire destruction 
 of Rome and all that remained in it ; with such 
 terror was the city struck at the return of those 
 that escaped from the battle, and so filled wich 
 confusion and distraction ! But the Gauls, not 
 imagining the victory to be so great as it v/as, 
 in the excess of their joy indulged themselves in 
 good cheer, and shared the plunder of the camp ; 
 by which means numbers that were for leaving 
 the city had leisure to escape, and those that 
 remained had time to recollect themselves and 
 prepare for^ their defence. For, quitting the 
 rest of the city, they retired to the Capitol, which 
 they fortified with strong ramparts and provided 
 well with arms. But their first care was of their 
 holy things, most of which they conveyed into 
 the Capitol. ^ As for the sacred fire, the vestal 
 virgins took it up, together with other holy relics 
 and fled away with it : though some will have 
 it, that they have not the charge of anything but 
 that everliving which Numa appointed to be 
 worshipped as the principle of all things. It is 
 indeed the most active thing in nature ; and all 
 generation e ther is motion, or, at least, with 
 motion. Other parts of matter, when the heat 
 fails, lie sluggish and dead, and crave the force 
 of fire as an informing soul ; and when that 
 comes, they acquire some active or passive quality. 
 Hence it was that Numa, a man curious in his 
 researches into nature, and on account of his 
 wisdom supposed to have conversed with the 
 muses, consecrated this fire, and ordered it to be 
 perpetually kept up, as an image of that eternal 
 power which preserves and actuates the uni- 
 verse. Others say, that, according to the usage 
 of the Greeks, the fire is kept ever burning before 
 the holy places, as an emblem of purity ; but 
 that there are other things in the most secret part 
 of the temple, kept from the sight of all but those 
 virgins whom they call vestals: and the most 
 current opinion is, that the palladhnn of Troy, 
 which .^neas brought into Italy, is laid un 
 there. 
 
 Others say, the Samothracian gods are there 
 concealed; whom Dardanus,* after he had built 
 
 * Dardanus, who flourished in the time of 
 Moses, about the year before Christ 1480, is said 
 to have been originally of Arcadia, from whence 
 he passed to Samothrace. Afterwards he married 
 Batea or Arista the daughter of Teucer, king of 
 Phrygia. ^ Of the Samothracian gods we have 
 already given an account ; but may add here, 
 from Macrobius, that the dii magni, which Darda- 
 nus brought from Samothrace, were the penates, 
 or household gods, which .^Eneas afterwards 
 
 105 
 
 Troy, brought to that city and caused to be 
 worshipped ; and that after the taking of Troy, 
 iEneas privately carried them off, and kept them 
 till he settled in Italy. But those that pretend 
 to know most about these matters, say, there are 
 placed there two casks of a moderate size, the 
 one open and empty, the other full and sealed up, 
 but neither of them to be seen by any but those 
 holy virgins. Others, again, think this is all a 
 mistake, which arose from their putting most of 
 their sacred utensils in two casks, and hiding them 
 under-ground in the temple of Quirinus, and 
 that the place from those casks is still called 
 Doliolo. 
 
 They took, however, with them the choicest 
 and most sacred things they had, and fled with 
 them along the^ side of the river ; where Lucius 
 Albinus,_a plebeian, among others that were mak- 
 ing their escape, was carrying his wife and 
 children and some of his most necessary mov- 
 ables in a waggon. But when he saw the vestals 
 in a helpless and weary condition, carrying in 
 their arms the sacred symbols of the gods, he 
 immediately took out his family and goods, and 
 put the virgins in the waggon, that they might 
 make their escape to some of the Grecian cities.* 
 This piety of Albinus, and the veneration he ex- 
 pressed for the gods at so dangerous a juncture, 
 deserves to be recorded. 
 
 As for the other priests, and the most ancient 
 of the senators that were of consular dignity, or 
 had been honoured with triumphs, they could 
 not bear to think of quitting the city. They, 
 therefore, put on their holy vestments and robes 
 of state, and, in a form dictated by Fabius, the 
 p 07 itifex maximus, making their vows to the 
 gods,t devoted themselves for their country : 
 thus attired, they sat down in their ivory chairs 
 in tide forum, X prepared for the worst extremity. 
 
 The third day after the battle, Brennus arrived 
 with his army ; and finding the gates of the city 
 opened and the walls destitute of guards, at first 
 he had some apprehensions of a stratagem or 
 ambuscade, for he could not think the Romans 
 had so entirely given themselves up to despair. 
 But when he found it to be so in reality , he 
 entered by the Colline gate, and took Rome, a 
 little more than 360 years after its foundation ; 
 if It IS likely that any exact account has been 
 kept of those times, § the confusion of which has 
 
 carried into Italy. Dionysius of Halicarnassus 
 ^ys, he had seen the penates in an old temple at 
 Rome. ^ They were of antique workmanship, re- 
 presenting two young men sitting, and holding 
 each a lance in his hand, and had for their inscrip- 
 tion Denas, instead of Penas. 
 
 * Albinus conducted them to Caere, a city of 
 Hetniria, where they met with a favourable 
 reception. The vestals remained a considerable 
 time at Caere, and there performed the usual rites 
 of religion ; and hence those rites were called 
 Ceremo 7 ties. 
 
 t The Romans believed, that, by these volun- 
 tary consecrations to the infernal gods, disorder 
 and confusion was brought among the enemy. 
 
 i These ivory or curule chairs were used only 
 by those who had borne the most honourable 
 offices, and the persons who had a right to sit in 
 them bore also ivory staves. 
 
 § Livy tells us, that the Romans of those times 
 did not much apply themselves to writing, and 
 
io6 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 occasioned so much obscurity in things of a later 
 date. 
 
 Some uncertain rumours, however, of Rome’s 
 being taken, appear to have soon passed into 
 Greece. For Heraclides of Pontus,* who lived 
 not long after these times, in his treatise concer^i- 
 ing the soul, relates, that an account was brought 
 from the west, that an army from the country of 
 the Hyperboreans f had taken a Greek city called 
 Rome, situated somewhere near the great sea. 
 But I do not wonder that such a fabulous writer 
 as Heraclides should embellish his account of the 
 taking of Rome with the pompous terms of Hyper- 
 boreans and the great sea. It is very clear that 
 Aristotle the philosopher had heard that Rome was 
 taken by the Gauls ; but he calls its deliverer Lu- 
 cius ; whereas Camillus was not called Lucius but 
 Marcus. These authors had no better authority 
 than common report. 
 
 Brennus, thus in possession of Rome, set a 
 strong guard about the Capitol, and himself went 
 down into the forum ; where he was struck with 
 amazement at the sight of so many men seated 
 in great state and silence, who neither rose up at 
 the approach of their enemies, nor changed 
 countenance or colour, but leaned upon their 
 staves, and sat looking upon each other without 
 fear or concern. The Gauls astonished at so 
 surprising a spectacle, and regarding them as 
 superior beings, for a long time were afraid to 
 approach or touch them. At last one of them ven- 
 tured to go near Manius Papirius, and advancing 
 his hand, gently stroked his beard, which was 
 very long : upon which, Papirius struck him on 
 the head with his staff, and wounded him. The 
 barbarian then drew his sword and killed him. 
 After this, the Gauls fell upon the rest and slew 
 them, and continuing their rage, despatched all 
 that came in their way. Then for many days 
 together they pillaged the houses and carried off 
 the spoil ; at last they set fire to the city, and 
 demolished what escaped the flames, to express 
 their indignation against those in the Capitol, 
 who obeyed not their summons, but made a 
 vigorous defence, and greatly annoyed the be- 
 siegers from the walls. This it was that pro- 
 voked them to destroy the whole city, and to 
 despatch all that fell into their hands, without 
 sparing either sex or age. 
 
 As by the length of the siege provisions began 
 to fail the Gauls, they divided their forces, and 
 part stayed with the king before that fortress, 
 while part foraged the country, and laid waste 
 the towns and villages. Their success had in- 
 
 spired them with such confidence, that they did 
 not keep in a body, but car' lessly wandered about 
 in different troops and parties. It happened that 
 the largest and Ijest disciplined corps went against 
 Ardea, where Camillus, since his exile, lived in 
 absolute retirement. This great event, however, 
 awakened him into action, and his mind was em- 
 ployed in contriving, not how to keep himself 
 concealed and to avoid the Gauls, but, if an 
 opportunity should offer, to attack and conquer 
 them. Perceiving that the Ardeans were not 
 deficient in numbers, but in courage and dis- 
 cipline, which was owing to the inexperience and 
 inactivity of their officers, he applied first to the 
 young men, and told them, they ought not to 
 ascribe the defeat of the Romans to the valour of 
 the Gauls, or to consider the calamities they had 
 suffered in the midst of their infatuation as 
 brought upon them by men who, in fact, could 
 not claim the merit of the victory but as the work 
 of fortune. That it would be glorious, though 
 they risked something by it, to repel a foreign and 
 barbarous enemy, whose end in conquering was, 
 like fire, to destroy what they subdued : but that 
 if they would assume a proper spirit, he would 
 give them an opportunity to conquer without any 
 hazard at all. When he found the young men 
 were pleased with his discourse, he went next to 
 the magistrates and senate of Ardea ; and having 
 persuaded them also to adopt his scheme, he armed 
 all that were of a proper age for it, and drew them 
 up within the walls, that the enemy who were but 
 at a small distance, might not know what he was 
 about. 
 
 The Gauls having scoured the country, and 
 loaded themselves with plunder, encamped upon 
 the plains in a careless and disorderly manner. 
 Night found them intoxicated with wine, and 
 silence reigned in the camp. As soon as Camillus 
 was informed of this by his spies, he led the 
 Ardeans out ; and having passed the intermediate 
 space without noise, he reached their camp about 
 midnight. Then he ordered a loud shout to be 
 set up, and the trumpets to sound on all sides, to 
 cause the greater confusion : but it was wkh diffi- 
 culty they recovered themselves from their sleep 
 and intoxication. A few, whom fear had made 
 sober, snatched up their arms to oppose Camillus, 
 and fell with their weapons in their hands : but 
 the greatest part of them, buried in sleep and 
 wine, were surprised unarmed and easily ^ de- 
 spatched. A small number, that in the night 
 escaped out of the camp, and wandered in the 
 fields, were picked up next day by the cavalry, 
 and put to the sword. 
 
 The fame of this action soon reaching the neigh- 
 bouring cities drew out many of their ablest war- 
 riors. Particularly such of the Romans as had 
 escaped from the battle of Allia to Veil, lamented 
 with themselves in some such manner as this, 
 “ What a general has Heaven taken from Rome 
 in Camillus, to adorn the Ardeans with his ex- 
 ploits? while the city which produced and brought 
 up so great a man is absolutely ruined. And we, 
 for want of a leader, sit idle within the walls of a 
 strange city, and betray the liberties of Italy. 
 Come then, let us send to the Ardeans to demand 
 our general, or else take our weapons and go to 
 him : for he is no longer an exile, nor we citizens, 
 having no country but what is in possession of an 
 enemy.” 
 
 This motion was agreed to, and they sent to 
 
 that the commentaries of the fontiflces^ and their 
 other monuments, both public and private, were 
 destroyed when the city was burned by the 
 Gauls. 
 
 * He lived at that very time : for he was at 
 first Plato’s scholar, and afterwards Aristotle’s : 
 and Plato was but forty-one years old when 
 Rome was taken. 
 
 t The ancients called all the inhabitants of the 
 north Hyperboreans, and the Mediterranean the 
 Great Sea, to distinguish it from the Euxine. 
 Notwithstanding that Heraclides was right in 
 this, he might be a very fabulous writer : so was 
 Herodotus ; and so were the ancient historians 
 of almost all countries ; and the reason is ob- 
 vious — they had little more than tradition to 
 write from. 
 
C A MILL US. 
 
 107 
 
 Camillus to entreat him to accept of the com- 
 mand. But he answered, he could not do it 
 before he^ was legally appointed to it, by the 
 Romans in the Capitol. For he looked upon 
 them, while they were in being, as the common- 
 wealth, and would readily obey their orders, but 
 without them would not be so officious as to inter- 
 pose.* 
 
 They admired the modesty and honour of Ca- 
 millus, but knew not how to send the proposal to 
 the Capitol. It seemed indeed impossible for a 
 messenger to pass into the citadel, whilst the 
 enemy were in possession of the city. However, 
 a young man, named Pontius Cominius, not dis- 
 tinguished by his birth, but fond of glory, readily 
 took upon him the commission. He carried no 
 letters to the citizens in the Capitol, lest, if he 
 should happen to be taken, the enemy should 
 discover 637- them the intentions of Camillus. 
 Having dressed himself in mean attire, under 
 which he concealed some pieces of cork, he 
 travelled all day without fear, and approached 
 the city as it grew dark. He could not pass the 
 river by the bridge, because it was guarded by 
 the Gauls ; and therefore took his clothes, which 
 were neither many nor heavy, and bound them 
 about his head ; and having laid himself upon the 
 pieces of cork, easily swam over and reached the 
 city. ^ Then avoiding those quarters where, by 
 the lights and noise, he concluded they kept 
 watch, he went to the Car 7 nental gate, where 
 there was the greatest silence, and where the hill 
 of the Capitol is the steepest and most craggy. 
 Up this he got unperceived, by a way the most 
 difficult and dreadful, and advanced" near the 
 guards upon the walls. After he had hailed them 
 and told them his name, they received him with 
 joy, and conducted him to the magistrates. 
 
 The senate was presently assembled, and he 
 acquainted them with the victory of Camillus, 
 which they had not heard of before, as well as 
 with the proceedings of the soldiers at Veii, and 
 exhorted them to confirm Camillus in the com- 
 mand, as the citizens out of Rome would obey 
 none but him. Having heard his report and con- 
 sulted together, they declared Camillus dictator, 
 and sent Pontius back the same way he came, 
 who was equally fortunate in his return ; for he 
 passed the enem.y undiscovered, and delivered to 
 the Romans at Veii the decree of the senate, 
 which they received with pleasure. 
 
 Camillus, at his arrival, found 20,000 of them in 
 arms, to whom he added a greater number of the 
 allies, and prepared to attack the enemy. Thus 
 was he appointed dictator the second time, and 
 having put himself at the head of the Romans and 
 confederates, he marched out against the Gauls. 
 
 Meantime, some of the barbarians employed 
 in the siege, happening to pass by the place where 
 Pontius had made his way by night up to the 
 Capitol, observed manj’’ traces of his feet and 
 hands, as he had worked himself up the rock, 
 torn off what grew there, and tumbled down the 
 mould. Of this they informed the king ; who 
 
 * Livy says, the Roman soldiers at Veii applied 
 to the remains of the senate in the Capitol for 
 leave, before they offered the command to Ca- 
 millus. So much regard had those brave men 
 for the constitution of their country, though Rome 
 then lay in ashes. Every private man was indeed 
 a patriot. 
 
 commg and viewing it, for the present said 
 nothing ; but in the evening he assembled the 
 lightest and most active of his men, who were the 
 likeliest to climb any difficult height, and thus 
 addressed them; “The enemy have themselves 
 shown us a way to reach them, which we were 
 ignorant^ of, and have proved that this rock is 
 neither inaccessible nor untrod by human feet. 
 What a shame would it be then, after having 
 made a beginning, not to finish ; and to quit the 
 place as impregnable, when the Romans them- 
 selves have taught us how to take it ? Where it 
 was easy for one man to ascend, it cannot be 
 difficult for many, one by one ; nay, should many 
 attempt it together, they will find great advantage 
 in assisting each other. In the mean time, I 
 intend great rewards and honours for such as 
 shall distinguish themselves on this occasion.” 
 
 The Gauls readily embraced the king’s proposal, 
 and about midnight a number of them together, 
 began to climb the rock in silence, which, though 
 steep and craggy, proved more practicable than 
 they expected. The foremost having gained the 
 top, put themselves in order, and were ready to 
 take possession of the wall, and to fall upon the 
 guards, who were fast asleep ; for neither man nor 
 dog perceived their coming. However, there were 
 certain sacred geese kept near Juno’s temple,* 
 and at other times plentifully fed ; but at this 
 time, as corn and the other provisions that re- 
 miained were scarce sufficient for the men, they 
 v.7ere neglected and in poor condition. This 
 animal is naturally quick of hearing, and soon 
 alarmed at any noise ; and as hunger kept them 
 waking and unea.sy, they immediately perceived 
 the coming of the Gauls, and running at them 
 with all the noise they could make, they awoke 
 all the guards. The barbarians now, perceiving | 
 they were discovered, advanced with loud shouts 
 and great fur3^ The Romans in haste snatched 
 up such weapons as came to hand, and acquitted 
 themselves like men on this sudden emergency. 
 First of all, Manlius, a man of consular dignity, 
 remarkable for his strength and extraordinary 
 courage, engaged two Gauls at once ; and as one 
 of them was lifting up his battle-axe, with his 
 sword cut off his right hand : at the same time he 
 thrust the boss of his shield in the face of the 
 other, and dashed him down the precipice. Thus 
 standing upon the rampart, with those that had 
 come to his assistance and fought by his side, he 
 drove back the rest of the Gauls that had got up, 
 who were no great number, and who performed 
 nothing worthy of such an attempt. The Romans 
 having thus escaped the danger that threatened 
 them, as soon as it was light, threw the officer 
 that commanded the watch down the rock amongst 
 the enemy, and decreed Manlius a reward for his 
 victory, which had more of honour in it than 
 profit ; for every man gave him what he had for 
 one day’s allowance, which was half a pound of 
 bread and a quartern of the Greek cotyle. 
 
 * Geese were ever after had in honour at Rome, 
 and a flock of them always kept at the expense of 
 the public. A golden image of a goose was 
 erected in memory of them, and a goose every 
 year carried in triumph upon a soft litter, finely 
 adorned ; while dogs were held in abhorrence by 
 the Romans, who every year impaled one of them 
 upon a branch of elder. Plin. & Plut. de For- 
 tuna Rom. 
 
io8 PL UTARCH LIVES. 
 
 After this, the Gauls began to lose courage : 
 for provisions were scarce, and they could not 
 forage, for fear of Camillus.* Sickness, too, 
 prevailed among them, which took its rise from 
 the heaps of dead bodies, and from their encamp- 
 ing amidst the rubbish of the houses they had 
 burned ; where there was such a quantity of 
 ashes as, when raised by the winds or heated by 
 the sun, by their dry and acrid quality so cor- 
 rupted the air, that every breath of it was per- 
 nicious. But what affected them most was, the 
 change of climate ; for they had lived in countries 
 that abounded with shades and agreeable shelters 
 from the heat, and were now got into grounds 
 that were low and unhealthy in autumn. All 
 this, together with the length and tediousness of 
 the siege, which had now lasted more than six 
 months, caused such desolation among them, and 
 carried off such numbers, that the carcases lay 
 unburied. 
 
 The besieged, however, were not in a much 
 better condition. Famine, which now pressed 
 them hard, and their ignorance of what Camillus 
 was doing, caused no small dejection ; for the 
 barbarians guarded the city with so much care, 
 that it was impossible to send any messenger to 
 him. Both sides being thus equally discouraged, 
 the advanced guards, who were near enough to 
 converse, first began to talk of treating. As the 
 motion was approved by those that had the chief 
 direction of affairs, Sulpitius, one of the military 
 tribunes, went and conferred with Brennus ; where 
 it was agreed that the Romans should pay a 
 thousand pounds weight of gold,t and that the 
 Gauls, upon the receipt of it, should immediately 
 quit the city and its territories. When the con- 
 ditions were sworn to, and the gold was brought, 
 the Gauls endeavouring to avail themselves of 
 false weights, privately at first, and afterwards 
 openly drew down their own side of the balance. 
 The Romans expressing their resentment, Bren- 
 nus, in a contemptuous and insulting manner, 
 took off his sword, and threw it, belt and all, into 
 the scale : and when Sulpitius asked what that 
 meant, he answered, “ What should it mean but 
 woe to the conquered?” which became a pro- 
 verbial saying. Some of the Romans were highly 
 incensed at this, and talked of returning with 
 their gold, and enduring the utmost extremities of 
 the siege ; but others were of opinion, that it was 
 better to pass by a small injury, since the in- 
 dignity lay not in paying more than was due,^ but 
 in paying anything at all : a disgrace only conse- 
 quent upon the necessity of the times. 
 
 While they were thus disputing with the Gauls, 
 Camillus arrived at the gates ; and being informed 
 of what had passed, ordered the main body of his 
 army to advance slowly and in good order, while 
 he with a select band, marched hastily up to the 
 Romans, who all gave place, and received the 
 dictator with respect and silence. ^ Then he took 
 the gold out of the scales and gave it to the lictors^ 
 and ordered the Gauls to take avmy the balance 
 and the weights, and to be gone ; telling them, it 
 was the custom of the Romans to deliver their 
 country with steel, not with gold. And when 
 Brennus expressed his indignation, and com- 
 
 plained he had great injustice done him by this 
 infraction of the treaty, Camillus answered, that 
 it was never lawfully made : nor could it be 
 valid, without his consent, who was dictator and 
 sole magistrate ; they had, therefore, acted with- 
 out proper authority : but they might make their 
 proposals, now he was come, whom the laws had 
 invested with power either to pardon the suppliant 
 or to punish the guilty, if proper satisfaction was 
 not made. 
 
 At this, Brennus was still more highly incensed, 
 and a skirmish ensued ; swords were drawn on 
 both sides, and thrusts exchanged in a confused 
 manner, which it is easy to conceive must be the 
 case a,midst the ruins of houses and in narrow 
 streets, where there was not room to draw up 
 regularly. Brennus, however, soon recollected 
 himself, and drew off his forces into the camp, 
 with the loss of a small number. In the night, he 
 ordered them to march, and quit the city ; and 
 having retreated about eight miles from it, he en- 
 camped upon the Gabian road. Early in the 
 morning, Camillus came up with them, his arms 
 dazzling the sight, and his men full of spirits and 
 fire. A sharp engagement ensued, which lasted 
 a long time : at length the Gauls were routed 
 with great slaughter, and their camp taken. Some 
 of those that fled were killed in the pursuit ; but 
 the greater part were cut in pieces by the people 
 in the neighbouring towns and villages, who fell 
 upon them as they were dispersed.* 
 
 Thus was Rome strangely taken, and more 
 strangely recovered, after it had been seven 
 months in the possession of the barbarians ; for 
 they entered it a little after the Ides^ the fifteenth 
 of July, and were driven out about the Ides, the 
 thirteenth of February following. Camillus re- 
 turned in triumph, as became the deliverer of 
 his lost country, and the restorer of Rome. 
 Those that had quitted the place before the 
 siege, with their wives and children, now followed 
 his chariot ; and they that had been besieged in 
 the Capitol, and were almost perishing with 
 hunger, met the others and embraced them ; 
 weeping for joy at this unexpected pleasure, 
 which they almost considered as a dream. The 
 priests and ministers of the gods bringing back 
 with them what holy things they had hid or con- 
 veyed away when they fled, afforded a most 
 desirable spectacle to the people ; and they gave 
 them the kindest welcome, as if the gods them- 
 selves had returned with them to Rome. N ext, 
 Camillus sacrificed to the gods, and purified the 
 city, in a form dictated by the pontiffs. He. 
 rebuilt the former temples, and erected a new one 
 to Aius LoqmUius, the speaker ^ or ivarner, upon 
 the very spot where the voice from heaven 
 announced in the night to Marcus Ceditius the 
 coming of the barbarians. There was, indeed, no 
 small difficulty in discovering the places where 
 the temples had stood, but it was effected by the 
 zeal of Camillus, and the industry of the priests. 
 
 As it was necessary to rebuild the city, which 
 was entirely demolished, a heartless despon- 
 
 * There is reason to question the truth of the 
 latter part of this story. Plutarch copied it from 
 Livy, But Polybius represents the Gauls as 
 actually receiving the gold from the Romans, and 
 returning in safety to their own country ; and this 
 is confirmed by Justin, Suetonius, and even by 
 Livy himself, in another part of his history (x 16). 
 
 Camillus being master of the country, posted 
 strong guards on all the roads, and in effect be- 
 sieged the besiegers, 
 t That is, £45,000 sterling. 
 
CAMILLAS. 
 
 log 
 
 dency seized the multitude, and they invented 
 pretexts of delay. They were in want of all 
 necessary materials, and had more occasion for 
 repose and refreshment after their sufferings, than 
 to labour and wear themselves out, when their 
 bodies were weak and their substance was gone. 
 They had, therefore, a secret attachment to yeii, 
 a city which remained entire, and was provided 
 with everything. This gave a handle to their 
 demagogues to harangue them, as usual, in a way 
 agreeable to their inclinations, and made them 
 listen to seditious speeches against Camillus : as 
 if, to gratify his ambition and thirst of glory, he 
 would deprive them of a city fit to receive them, 
 force them to pitch their tents among rubbish, 
 and rebuild a ruin that was like one great funeral 
 pile ; in order that he might not only be called the 
 general and dictator of Rome, but the founder too, 
 instead of Romulus, whose right he iiivaded. 
 
 On this account, the senate, afraid of an in- 
 surrection, would not let Camillus lay down the 
 dictatorship within the year, as he desired, though 
 no other person bad ever borne that high office 
 more than six months. In the mean time, they 
 went about to console the people, to gain them by 
 caresses and kind persuasions. One while they 
 showed them the monuments and tombs of their 
 ancestors, then they put them in mind of their 
 temples and holy places, which Romulus, and 
 Numa, and the other kings, had consecrated and 
 left in charge with them. Above ail, amidst the 
 sacred and awful symbols, they took care to make 
 them recollect the fresh human head,* which was 
 found when the foundations of the Capitol were 
 dug, and which presignified that the same place 
 was destined to be the head of Italy. They urged 
 the disgrace it would be to extinguish again the 
 sacred fire, which the vestals had lighted since 
 the war, and to quit the city ; whether they were 
 to see it inhabited by strangers, or _ a desolate 
 wild for flocks to feed in. In this moving manner 
 the patidcians remonstrated to the people both in 
 public and private ; and were in their turn much 
 affected by the distress of the multitude, who 
 lamented their present indigence, and begged of 
 them, now they were collected like the remains 
 of a shipwreck, not to oblige them to patch up 
 the ruins of a desolated city, when there was one 
 entire and ready to receive them. 
 
 Camillus, therefore, thought proper to take the 
 judgment of the senate in a body. And when he 
 had exerted his eloquence in favour of his native 
 country, and others had done the same, he put it 
 to the vote, beginning with Lucius Lucretius, 
 whose right it was to vote first, and who was to 
 be followed by the rest in their order. Silence 
 was made ; and as Lucretius was about to declare 
 himself, it happened that a centurion, who then 
 commanded the day-guard, as he passed the 
 house called with a loud voice to the ensign, to 
 
 * This prodigy happened in the reign of Tar- 
 quin the proud^ who undoubtedly must have put 
 the head there on purpose ; for, in digging the 
 foundation, it was found warm and bleeding, as 
 if just severed from the body. Upon this, the 
 Romans sent to consult the Tuscan soothsayers, 
 who, after vainly endeavouring to bring the 
 presage to favour their own country, acknow- 
 ledged that the place where that head was found 
 would be the head of all Italy. Dionys. Hal. 
 lib. iv. 
 
 stop, and set up his standard there, for that was 
 the best place to stay in. These words being so 
 seasonably uttered, at a time when they were 
 doubtful and anxious about the event, Lucretius 
 gave thanks to the gods, and embraced the omen, 
 while the rest gladly assented. A wonderful 
 change, at the same time, took place in the 
 minds of the people, who exhorted and encouraged 
 each other in the work, and they began to build 
 immediately, not in any order or upon a regular 
 plan, but as inclination or convenience directed. 
 By reason of this hurry the streets were narrow 
 and intricate, and the houses badly laid out ; for 
 they tell us both the walls of the city and the 
 streets were built within the compass of a year. 
 
 The persons appointed by Camillus to search 
 for and mark out the holy places, found all in 
 confusion. As they were looking round the 
 Palatium^ they came to the court of Mars, where 
 the buildings, like the rest, were burned and 
 demolished by the barbarians ; but in removing 
 the rubbish and cleaning the place, they dis- 
 covered under a great heap of ashes, the augural 
 staff of Romulus. This staff is crooked at one 
 end, and called lituus. It is used in marking out 
 the several quarters of the heavens, in any 
 process of divination by the flight of birds, which 
 Romulus was much skilled in and made great use 
 of. When he was taken out of the world, the 
 priests carefully preserved the staff from defile- 
 ment, like other holy relics : and this having 
 escaped the fire, when the rest were consumed, 
 they indulged a pleasing hope, and considered it 
 as a presage, that Rome would last for ever.* 
 
 Before they had finished the laborious task of 
 building, a new war broke out. The ^Equi, the 
 Volsci, and the Latins, all at once invaded their 
 territories, and the Tuscans laid siege to Sutrium, 
 a city in alliance with Rome. The military 
 tribunes, too, v/ho commanded the army, being 
 surrounded by the Latins near Mount Marcius, 
 and their camp in great danger, sent to Rome to 
 desire succours ; on which occasion Camillus was 
 appointed dictator the third time. 
 
 Of this war there are two different accounts : I 
 begin with the fabulous one. It is said, the 
 Latins either seeking a pretence for war, or really 
 inclined to renew their ancient affinity with the 
 Romans, sent to demand of them a number of 
 freeborn virgins in marriage. The Romans were 
 in no small perplexity as to the course they should 
 take. For, on the one hand, they were afraid of 
 war, as they were not yet re-established, nor had 
 recovered their losses ; and on the other, they sus- 
 pected that the Latins only wanted their daughters 
 for hostages, though they coloured their design 
 with the special name of marriage. While they 
 were thus embarrassed, a female slave, named 
 
 * About this time, the tribunes of the people 
 determined to impeach Q. Fabius, who had 
 violated the law of nations, and thereby pro- 
 voked the Gauls, and occasioned the burning of 
 Rome. His crime being notorious, he was sum- 
 moned by C. Martins Rutilus before the assembly 
 of the people, to answer for his conduct in the 
 embassy. The criminal had reason to fear the 
 severest punishment; but his relations gave out 
 that he died suddenly ; which generally happened 
 when the accused person had courage enough to 
 prevent his condemnation, and the shame of a 
 public punishment. 
 
PLUTARCH LIVES, 
 
 Tutula,* or, as some call her, Philotis, advised 
 the magistrates to send with her some of the 
 handsomest and most genteel of the maid-servants, 
 dressed like virgins of good families, and leave 
 the rest to her. The magistrates approving the 
 expedient, chose a number of female slaves proper 
 for her purpose, and sent them richly attired to 
 the Latin camp, which was not far from the city. 
 At night, while the other slaves coiiveyed away 
 the enemies’ swords, Tutula or Philotis got up 
 into a wild fig-tree of considerable height, and 
 having spread a thick garment behind, to conceal 
 her design from the Latins, held up a torch to- 
 wards Rome, which was the signal agreed upon 
 between her and the magistrates, who alone were 
 in the secret. For this reason the soldiers sallied 
 out in a tumultuous manner, calling upon each 
 other, and hastened by their officers, who found 
 it difficult to bring them into any order. They 
 made themselves masters however, of the en- 
 trenchments, and as the enemy, expecting no such 
 attempt, were asleep, they took the Camp, and 
 put the greatest part of them to the sword. This 
 happened on the Nones, the seventh of July, then 
 called Qtiintillis. And on that day they celebrate 
 a feast in .memorj^ of this action. In the first 
 place, they sally in a crowding and disorderly 
 manner out of the city, pronouncing aloud the 
 most familiar and common names, as Caius, Mar- 
 cus, Lucius, and the like ; by which they imitate 
 the soldiers then calling upon each other in their 
 hurry. Next, the maid-servants walk about, 
 elegantly dressed, and jesting on all they meet. 
 They have also a kind of fight among themselves, 
 to express the assistance they gave in the engage- 
 ment with the Latins. Then they sit down to an 
 entertainment, shaded with branches of the fig- 
 tree : and that day is called Nonce Capratince, 
 as some suppose, on account of the wild fig-tree, 
 from which the maid-servant held out the torch ; 
 for the Romans call that tree cciprificus. Others 
 refer the greatest part of what is said and done on 
 that occasion to that part of the story of Romulus 
 when he disappeared, and the darkness and 
 tempest, or, as some imagine, an eclipse hap- 
 pened. It was on the same day, at least, and the 
 day might be called Nonce Ccipratince ; for the 
 Romans call 2Lgoat Capra ; and Romulus vanished 
 out of sight while he was holding an assembly of 
 the people at the Goat' s Marsh, as we have related 
 in his life. 
 
 The other account that is given of this war, and 
 approved by most historians, is as follows. Ca- 
 millus being appointed dictator the third time, 
 and knowing that the army under the military 
 tribunes was surrounded by the Latins and 
 Volscians, was constrained to make levies among 
 such as age had exempted from service. With 
 these he fetched a large compass about Mount 
 Marcius, and unperceived by the enemy posted 
 his army behind them ; and by lighting many 
 fires signified his arrival. Tlfe Romans that were 
 besieged in their camp, being encouraged by this, 
 resolved to sally out and join battle. But the 
 Latins and Volscians kept close within their works, 
 drawing a line of circumvallation with palisades, 
 because they had the enemy on both sides, and 
 resolving to wait for reinforcements from home, as 
 well as from the Tuscan succours. 
 
 * In the life of Romulus she is called Tutola. 
 Macrobius calls her Tutela. 
 
 Camillus, perceiving this, and fearing that the 
 enemy might surround him, as he had surrounded 
 them, hastened to make use of the present oppor- 
 tunity. As the works of the confederates con- 
 sisted of wood, and the wind used to blow hard 
 from the mountains at sun-rising, he provided a 
 great quantity of combustible matter, and drew 
 out his forces at daybreak. Part of them he 
 ordered with loud shouts and missive weapons to 
 begin the attack on the opposite side ; while he 
 himself, at the head of those that were charged 
 with the fire, watched the proper minute, on that 
 side of the works where the wind used to blow 
 directly. When the sun was risen the wind blew 
 violently ; and the attack being begun on the 
 other side, he gave the signal to his own party, 
 who poured a vast quantity of fiery darts and 
 other burning matter into the enemy’s fortifica- 
 tions. As the flame soon caught hold, and was fed 
 by the palisades and other timber, it spread itself 
 into all quarters ; and the Latins not being pro- 
 vided with any means of extinguishing it, the 
 camp was almost full of fire, and they were re- 
 duced to a small spot of ground. At last they 
 were forced to bear down upon that body who 
 were posted before the camp and ready to receive 
 them sword in hand. Consequently very few of 
 them escaped ; and those that remained in the 
 camp were destroyed by the flames, till the 
 Romans extinguished them for the sake of the 
 plunder^ 
 
 After this exploit, he left his son Lucius in the 
 camp to guard the prisoners and the booty, while 
 he himself penetrated into the enemy’s country. 
 There he took the city of the j®qui and reduced 
 the Volsci, and then led his army to Sutrium, 
 whose fate he was not yet apprised of, and which 
 he hoped to relieve by fighting the Tuscans who 
 had sat down before it. But the Sutrians had 
 already surrendered their town, with the loss of 
 everything but the clothes they had on ; and in 
 this condition he met them by the way, with their 
 wives and children, bewailing their misfortunes. 
 Camillus was extremely moved at so sad a spec- 
 tacle ; and perceiving that the Romans wept with 
 pity at the affecting entreaties of the Sutrians, he 
 determined not to defer his revenge, but to march 
 to Sutrium that very day ; concluding that men 
 who had just taken an opulent city, where they 
 had not left one enemy, and who expected none 
 from any other quarter, would be found in dis- 
 order and off their guard. Nor was he mistaken 
 in his j udgment. He not only passed through the 
 country undiscovered, but approached the gates ' 
 and got possession of the walls before they were 
 aware. Indeed there was none to guard them ; 
 for all were engaged in festivity and dissipation. 
 Nay, even when they perceived that the enemy 
 were masters of the town, they were so overcome 
 by their indulgences, that few endeavoured to 
 escape ; they were either slain in their houses, or 
 surrendered themselves to the conquerors. Thus 
 the city of Sutrium being twice taken in one day, 
 the new possessors were expelled, and the old ones 
 restored, by Camillus. 
 
 By the triumph decreed him on this occasion, 
 he gained no less credit and honour than by the 
 two former. For those of the citizens that envied 
 him, and were desirous to attribute his successes 
 rather to fortune than to his valour and conduct, 
 were compelled by these last actions, to allow his 
 great abilities and application. Among those that 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 opposed him and detracted from his merit, the 
 most considerable was Marcus Manlius, who was 
 the first that repulsed the Gauls, when they at- 
 tempted the Capitol by night, and on that account 
 was surnamed Capitoluius. He was ambitious to 
 be the greatest man in Rome, and as he could not 
 by fair means outstrip Camillus in the race of 
 honour, he took the common road to absolute 
 power by courting the populace, particularly 
 those that were in debt. Some of the latter he 
 defended, by pleading their causes against their 
 creditors ; and others he rescued, forcibly pre- 
 venting their being dealt with according to law. 
 oo that he soon got a number of indigent persons 
 about him, who became formidable to the patri- 
 Clans by their insolent and riotous behaviour in 
 the foru7n. 
 
 In this exigency they appointed Cornelius 
 Cossus dictator, who named Titus Quintius 
 Capitolmus his general of horse; and by this 
 supreme magistrate Manlius was committed to 
 prison : on which occasion the people went into 
 mourning ; a thing never used but in time of 
 great und public calamities. The senate, there- 
 fore, afraid of an insurrection, ordered him to be 
 released. But when set at liberty, instead of 
 altering his conduct, he grew more insolent and 
 troublesome, and filled the whole city with faction 
 and sedition._ At that time Camillus was again 
 created a military tribune, and Manlius taken 
 and brought to his trial. But the sight of the 
 Capitol was a great disadvantage to those that 
 carried on the impeachment. The place where 
 Manlius by night maintained the fight against 
 the Gauls, was seen from the forum ; and all that 
 attended were moved with compassion at his 
 stretching out his hands towards that place and 
 begging them with tears to remember his achieve- 
 ments. The judges of course were greatly em- 
 barrassed, and often adjourned the court, not 
 choosing to acquit him after such clear proofs of 
 his crime, nor yet able to carry the laws into 
 execution in a place which continually reminded 
 the people of his services. Camillus, sensible of 
 this, removed the tribunal without the gate, 
 into the Peteline Grove, where there was no 
 prospect of the Capitol. There the prosecutor 
 brought his charge, and the remembrance of his 
 former bravery gave way to the sense which his 
 judges had of his present crimes. Manlius, there- 
 fore, was condemned, carried to the Capitol, and 
 thrown headlong from the rock. Thus the same 
 place was the monument both of his glory and 
 his unfortunate end. The Romans, moreover 
 razed his house, and built there a temple to the 
 goddess Moneta. They decreed likewise that 
 for ^e future no Patrician should ever dwell in 
 the Capitol, t 
 
 III 
 
 * Vide Liv. lib. vi. cap. ii. 
 t Lest the advantageous situation of a fortress 
 that coinmanded the whole city, should suggest 
 and facilitate the design of enslaving it. For 
 Manlius was accused of aiming at the sovereign 
 power. His fate may serve as a warning to all 
 ambitious men who want to rise on the ruins of 
 their country ; for he could not escape or find 
 mercy with the people, though he produced above 
 tour hundred plebeians, whose debts he had paid ; 
 though he showed thirty suits of armour, the 
 spoils of thirty enemies, whom he had slain in 
 single combat ; though he had received forty 
 
 Camillus, who was now nominated military tri- 
 bune the sixth time, declined that honour. For 
 besides that he was of an advanced age, he was 
 aprehensive of the effects of envy and of some 
 change of fortune, after so much glory and suc- 
 cess But the excuse he most insisted on in 
 public, was, the state of his health, which at that 
 tune was infirm. The people, however, refusing to 
 accept of that excuse, cried out, that they did not 
 desire him to fight either on horseback or on foot ; 
 they only wanted his counsel and his orders. Thus 
 they forced him to take the office upon him, and 
 together with Lucius Furius Medullinus, one of 
 his colleagues, to march immediately against the 
 enemy. 
 
 These were the people of Praeneste and the 
 Volsci, who with a considerable army were laying 
 waste the country in alliance with Rome. Camil- 
 lus, therefore, went and encamped over against 
 them, intending to prolong the war, that if there 
 should be any necessity lor a battle, he might be 
 sufficiently recovered to do his part. But as his 
 colleague Lucius, too ambitious of glory, was 
 violently and indiscreetly bent upon fighting, and 
 inspired the other officers with the same ardour 
 he was afraid it might be thought that through 
 envy he withheld from the young officers the 
 opportunity to distinguish themselves. For this 
 reason he agreed, though with great reluctance, 
 that Lucius should draw out the forces, whilst 
 he, on account of his sickness,* remained with a 
 handful of men in the camp. But when he per- 
 ceived that Lucius, who engaged in a rash and 
 precipitate manner, was defeated, and the Romans 
 put to flight, he could not contain himself, but 
 leaped from his bed, and went with his retinue to 
 the gates of the camp. There he forced his way 
 through the fugitives up to the pursuers, and made 
 so good a stand, that those who had fled to the 
 camp soon returned to the charge, and others that 
 \i^re retreating rallied and placed themselves 
 about him, exhorting each other not to forsake 
 their general. Thus the enemy were stopped in 
 the pursuit. Next day he marched out at the 
 head of his army, entirely routed the confederates 
 in a pitched battle, and entering their camp along 
 With, thein, cut most of them in pieces. 
 
 After this, being informed that Satricum a 
 Ronian colony, was taken by the Tuscans, and 
 the inhabitants put to the sword, he sent home 
 the main body of his forces, which consisted of 
 the heavy-armed, and with a select band of light 
 and spirited young men, fell upon the Tuscans 
 that were in possession of the city, some of whom 
 he put to ^the sword, and the rest were driven out. 
 
 Returning to Rome with great spoils, he gave 
 a signal evidence of the good sense of the Roman 
 people, who entertained no fears on account of 
 
 honorary rewards, among which were two mural 
 and eight civic crowns (C. Servilius, when general 
 of the horse, being of the number of citizens 
 whose lives he had saved); and though he had 
 crowned all with the preservation of the Capitol. 
 So inconstant, however, is the multitude, that 
 Manlius was scarce dead, when his loss was 
 generally lamented, and a plague, which soon 
 followed, ascribed to the anger of Jupiter against 
 the authors of his death. 
 
 * Livy says, he placed himself on an eminence, 
 with a corps de reserve, to observe the success of 
 the battle. 
 
1 12 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 the ill health or age of a general that was not 
 deficient in courage or experience, but made choice 
 of him, infirm and reluctant as he was, rather 
 than of those young men that wanted and solicited 
 the command. Hence it was, that upon the news 
 of the revolt of the Tusculans, Camillus was 
 ordered to march against them, and to take with 
 him only one of his five colleagues. Though they 
 all desired and made interest for the commission, 
 yet, passing the rest by, he pitched upon Lucius 
 Furius, contrary to the general expectation : for 
 this was the man who but just before, against the 
 opinion of Camillus, was so eager to engage, and 
 lost the battle. Yet, willing, it seems, to draw 
 a veil over his misfortune and to wipe off his dis- 
 grace, he was generous enough to give him the 
 preference. * 
 
 When the Tusculans perceived that Camillus 
 was coming against them, they attempted to 
 correct their error by artful management. They 
 filled the fields with husbandmen and shepherds, 
 as in time of profound peace ; they left their gates 
 open, and sent their children to school as before. 
 The tradesmen were found in their shops em- 
 ployed in their respective callings, and the better 
 sort of citizens walking in the public places in 
 their usual dress. Meanwhile the magistrates 
 were busily passing to and fro, to order quarters 
 for the Romans ; as if they expected no danger 
 and were conscious of no fault. Though these 
 arts could not alter the opinion Camillus had of 
 their revolt, yet their repentance disposed him to 
 compassion. He ordered them, therefore, to go 
 to the senate of Rome and beg pardon : and when 
 they appeared there as suppliants, he used his in- 
 terest to procure their forgiveness, and a grant of 
 the privileges of Roman citizens t besides. These 
 were the principal actions of his sixth tribuneship. 
 
 After this, Licinius Stolo raised a great sedition 
 in the state; putting himself at the head of the 
 people, who insisted that of the two consuls one 
 should be a plebeian. Tribunes of the people 
 w*ere appointed, but the multitude would suffer 
 no election of consuls to be held. % As this want 
 
 of chief magistrates was likely to bring on still 
 greater troubles, the senate created Camillus 
 dictator the fourth time, against the consent of 
 the people, and not even agreeable to his own 
 inclination.* For he was unwilling to set himself 
 against those persons, who, having been often led 
 on by him to conquest, could with great truth 
 affirm, that he had more concern with them in the 
 military way, than with the patricians in the 
 civil ; and at the same time was sensible that the 
 envy of those very patricians induced them now 
 to promote him to that high station, that he might 
 oppress the people if he succeeded, or be ruined 
 by them if he failed in his attempt. He at- 
 tempted, however, to obviate the present danger, 
 and as he knew the day on which the tribunes 
 intended to propose their law, he published a 
 general muster, and summoned the people from 
 the forum into the field, threatening to set heavy 
 fines upon those that should not obey. On the 
 other hand, the tribunes of the people opposed 
 him with menaces, solemnly protesting they 
 would fine him 50,000 drach^nas^ if he did 
 not permit the people to put their bill to the 
 vote. Whether it was that he was afraid of a 
 second condemnation and banishment, which 
 would but ill suit him, now he was grown old 
 and covered with glory, or whether he thought 
 he could not get the better of the people, whose 
 violence was equal to their power, for the present 
 he retired to his own house ; and soon after, 
 under pretence of sickness, resigned the dictator- 
 ship.! The senate appointed another dictator, 
 who, having nam.ed for his general of horse that 
 very Stolo who was leader of the sedition, suffered 
 a law to be made that was extremely disagreeable 
 to the patricians. It provided that no person 
 whatsoever should possess more than 500 acres 
 of land. Stolo having carried his point with the 
 people, flourished greatly for a while ; but not 
 long after, being convicted of possessing more 
 than the limited number of acres, he suffered the 
 penalties of his own law, X 
 
 The most difficult part of the dispute, and that 
 which they began with, namely, concerning the 
 election of consuls, remained still unsettled, and 
 continued to give the senate great uneasiness ; 
 when certain information was brought that the 
 Gauls were marching again from the coasts of 
 the Adriatic, with an immense army towards 
 Rome. With this news came an account of the 
 usual effects of war, the country laid waste, and 
 such of the inhabitants as could not take refuge 
 in Rome dispersed about the mountains. The 
 terror of this put a stop to the sedition ; and 
 
 lictors, with the staff of the fasces, thundered at 
 the door. The younger sister being frightened 
 at the noise, the elder laughed at her, as a person 
 quite ignorant of high life. The affront greatly 
 afflicted her ; and her father, to comfort her, bade 
 her not be uneasy, for she should soon see as 
 much state at her own house as had surprised her 
 at her sister's. 
 
 * The year of Rome 388. 
 
 t He pretended to find something amiss in the 
 auspices which were taken when he was appointed. 
 
 t It was eleven years after. Popilius Lsenas 
 fined him 10,000 secterces for being possessed of 
 1000 acres of land, in conjunction with his son, 
 whom he had emancipated for that purpose. Liv. 
 lib. viic c. 16. 
 
 * This choice of Camillus had a different motive 
 from what Plutarch mentions. He knew that 
 Furius, who had felt the ill effects of a precipitate 
 conduct, would be the first man to avoid such a 
 conduct for the future. 
 
 t He was only a Roman citizen, in the most 
 extensive signification of the words, who had a 
 right of having a house in Rome, of giving his 
 vote in the Comitia, and of standing candidate 
 for any office ; and who, consequently, was in- 
 corporated into one of the tribes. The freemen 
 in the times of the republic were excluded from 
 dignities ; and of the municipal towns and Roman 
 colonies, which enjoyed the right of citizenship, 
 some had, and some had not, the right of suffrage 
 and of promotion to offices in Rome. 
 
 X This confusion lasted five years ; during 
 which the tribunes of the people prevented the 
 Comitia from being held, which were necessary 
 for the election of the chief magistrates. ^ It was 
 occasioned by a trifling accident. Fabius Am- 
 bustus having married his eldest daughter to 
 Servius Sulpicius, a patrician, and at this time 
 military tribune, and the younger to Licinius 
 Stolo, a rich plebeian ; it happened that while the 
 younger sister was paying a visit to the .elder, 
 Sulpicius came home from the forum, and his 
 
CAMILLUS, 
 
 113 
 
 the most popular of the senators uniting with the 
 people, with one voice created Camillus dictator 
 the fifth time. He was now very old, wanting 
 little of fourscore ; yet, seeing the necessity and 
 danger of the times, he was willing to risk all in- 
 conveniences ; and, without alleging any excuse, 
 immediately took upon him the command, and 
 made the levies. As he knew the chief force of 
 the barbarians lay in their swords, which they 
 managed without art or skill, furiously rushing 
 in, and aiming chiefly at the head and shoulders, 
 he furnished most of his men with helmets of well 
 polished iron, that the swords might either break 
 or glance aside; and round the borders of their 
 shields he drew a plate of brass, because the wood 
 of itself could not resist the strokes. Beside this, 
 he taught them to avail themselves of long pikes, 
 by pushing ^vith which they might prevent the 
 effect of the enemy’s swords. 
 
 _When the Gauls were arrived at the river Anio 
 with their army, encumbered with the vast booty 
 they had made, Camillus drew out his forces, and 
 posted them upon a hill of easy ascent, in which 
 were many hollows, sufficient to conceal the 
 greatest part of his men, while those that were 
 in sight should seem through fear to have taken 
 advantage of the higher grounds, i^d the more 
 to fix this opinion in the Gauls, he opposed not 
 the depredations committed in his sight, but 
 remained quietly in the camp he had fortified, 
 while he had beheld part of them dispersed in 
 order to plunder, and part indulging themselves, 
 day and night, in drinking and revelling. At last, 
 he sent out the light-armed infantry before day, 
 to prevent the enemy’s drawing up in a regular 
 manner, and to harass them by sudden skirmish- 
 ing as they issued out of their trenches ; and as 
 soon as it was light he led down the heavy-armed, 
 and put them in battle array upon the plain, 
 neither few in number nor disheartened, as the 
 Gauls expected, but numerous and full of spirits. 
 
 ^ This was the first thing that shook their resolu- 
 tion, for they considered it as a disgrace to have 
 the Romans the aggressors. Then the light- 
 pmed falling upon them before they could get 
 into order and rank themselves by companies, 
 pressed them so warmly, that they were obliged 
 to come in great confusion to the engagement. 
 Last of all, Camillus leading on the heavy-armed, 
 the Gauls v/ith brandished swords hastened to 
 fight hand to hand ; but the Romans meeting 
 the strokes with their pikes, and receiving them 
 on that part that was guarded with iron, so turned 
 their swords, which were thin and soft tempered, 
 that they were soon bent almost double; and 
 their shields were pierced and weighed down with 
 the pikes t^t stuck in them. They, therefore, 
 quitted their own arms, and endeavoured to seize 
 those of the enemy, and to wrest their pikes from 
 them. The Romans seeing them naked, now 
 began to make use of their swords, and made 
 great carnage among the foremost ranks. Mean- 
 time the rest took to flight, and were scattered 
 along the plain; for Camillus had beforehand 
 secured the heights; and as, in confidence of 
 victory, they had left their camp unfortified, thev 
 knew it would be taken with ease. 
 
 This battle is said to have been fought thirteen 
 years after the takin g of Rome ;* and, in conse- 
 
 * This battle was fought, not thirteen, but 
 twentj'-three years after the taking of Rome. 
 
 quence of this success, the Romans laid aside, 
 for tue future, the dismal apprehensions they 
 had entertained of the barbarians. They had 
 imagined, it seems, that the former victory they 
 had gained over the Gauls was owing to the sick- 
 ness that prevailed in their army, and to other 
 unforeseen accidents, rather than to their own 
 valour : and so great had their terror been 
 formerly, that they had made a law, that the 
 priests should be exempted from military service, 
 except in case of an invasion by the Gauls. 
 
 This was the last of Camillus’s martial exploits. 
 For the taking of Velitrae was a direct consequence 
 of this victory, and it surrendered without the 
 least resistance. But the greatest conflict he ever 
 experienced in the state still remained : for the 
 people were harder to deal with since they re- 
 turned victorious, and they insisted that one of 
 the consuls should be chosen out of their body, 
 contrary to the present constitution. The senate 
 opposed them, and would not suffer Camillus to 
 resign the dictatorship, thinking they could better 
 defend the rights of the nobility under the sanction 
 of his supreme authority. But one day, as Ca- 
 millus v/as sitting in the forwu, and employed in 
 the distribution of justice, an officer, sent by the 
 tribunes of the people, ordered him to follow him, 
 and laid his hand upon him, as if he would seize 
 and carry him away. Upon this, such a noise 
 and tumult was raised in the assembly as never 
 had been known ; those that were about Camillus 
 thrusting the plebeian oflScer down from the 
 tribunal, and the populace calling out to drag the 
 dictator from his seat. In this case Camillus was 
 much embarrassed ; he did not, however resign 
 the dictatorship, but led off the patricians to the 
 senate-house. Be'ore he entered it, he turned 
 towards the Capitol, and prayed to the gods to 
 put a happy end to the present disturbances, 
 solemnly vowing to build a temple to Concord 
 when the tumult should be over. 
 
 In the senate there was a diversity of opinions 
 and great debates. Mild and popular counsels, 
 however, prevailed,^ which allowed one of the con- 
 suls to be a plebeian.* When the dictator an- 
 nounced this decree to the people, they received 
 it with great satisfaction, as it was natural they 
 should ; they were immediately reconciled to the 
 senate, and conducted Camillus home with great 
 applause. Next day the people assembled, and 
 voted that the temple which Camillus had vowed 
 to Concord should, on account of this great event, 
 be built on a spot that fronted th^/orwu and 
 place of assembly. To those feasts which are 
 
 The people having gained this point, the 
 consulate was revived, and the military tribune- 
 ship laid aside for ever. But at the same time 
 the patricians procured the great privilege that a 
 new officer, called prcetor, should be appointed, 
 who was to be always one of their body. The 
 consuls had been generals of the Roman armies, 
 and at the same time judges of civil affairs, but 
 as they were often in the field, it was thought 
 proper to separate the latter branch from their 
 office, and appropriate it to a judge with the title 
 of prcetor^ who was to be next in dignity to the 
 consuls. About the year of Rome 501, another 
 prcetor was appointed to decide the differences 
 among foreigners. Upon the taking of Sicily and 
 Sardinia two more prcetors were created, and as 
 many more upon the conquest of Spain. 
 
 I 
 
II4 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 called latin they added one day more, so that the 
 whole was to consist of four days; and for the 
 present they ordained that the whole people of 
 Rome should sacrifice with garlands on their 
 heads. Camillus then held an assembly for the 
 election of consuls, when Marcus iEmilius was 
 chosen out of the nobility, and Lucius Sextius 
 from the commonalty, the first plebeian that ever 
 attained that honour. 
 
 This was the last of Camillus’s_ transactions. 
 The year following a pestilence visited RomCj 
 which carried off a prodigious number of ^ the 
 people, most of the magistrates, and Camillus 
 himself. His death could not be deemed pre- 
 mature, on account of his great age and the offices 
 he had borne, yet was he more lamented than 
 all the rest of the citizens who died of that dis- 
 temper. 
 
 PERICLES, 
 
 When Caesar happened to see some strangers at 
 Rome carrying young dogs and monkeys m 
 their arms, and fondly caressing them, he asked, 
 whether the women in their country never bore 
 any children ; thus reproving with a proper 
 severity those who lavish upon brutes that 
 natural tenderness which is due only to mankind. 
 In the same manner we must condemn those who 
 employ that curiosity and love of knowledge 
 which nature has implanted in the hurnan soul, 
 upon low and worthless objects, while they 
 neglect such as are excellent and useful. _Our 
 senses, indeed, by an effect almost mechanical, 
 are passive to the impression of outward objects, 
 whether agreeable or offensive : but the mind, 
 possessed of a self-directing power, may turn its 
 attention to whatever it thinks proper. It should, 
 therefore, be employed in the most useful pur- 
 suits, not barely in contemplation, but in such 
 contemplation as may nourish its faculties. For 
 as that colour is best suited to the eye, which by 
 its beauty and agreeableness at the^ same time 
 both refreshes and strengthens the sight, so the 
 application of the mind should be directed to those 
 subjects, which through the channel of pleasure 
 may lead us to our proper happiness. _ Such are 
 the works of virtue. The very description of these 
 inspires us with emulation, and a strong desire 
 to imitate them ; whereas in other things, admi- 
 ration does not always lead us to imitate v/hat 
 we admire ; but, on the contrary, while we are 
 charmed with the work, we often _ despise the 
 workman. Thus we are pleased with perfumes 
 and purple, while dyers and perfumers appear to 
 us in the light of mean mechanics. 
 
 Antisthenes,* therefore, when he was told that 
 Ismenias played excellently upon the flute, 
 answered properly enough, “Then he is good 
 for nothing else; otherwise he would not have 
 played so well.” Such also was Philip’s saying 
 to his son, when at a certain entertainment he 
 sang in a very agreeable and skilful manner. 
 “Are you not ashamed to sing so well?” It is 
 enough for a prince to bestow a vacant hour 
 upon hearing others sing, and he does the muses 
 sufficient honour, if he attends the performances 
 of those who excel in their arts. 
 
 If a man applies himself to servile or mechanic 
 employments, his industry in those things is a 
 proof of his inattention to nobler studies. No 
 young man of noble birth or liberal sentirnents, 
 from seeing the Jupiter at Pisa, would desire to 
 be Phidias, or from the sight of the Juno at 
 Argos, to be Polycletus ; or Anacreon, or Phil^ 
 mon, of Archilochus, though delighted with 
 
 * Antisthenes was a disciple of Socrates, and 
 founder of the sect of the Cynics. 
 
 their poems/’'' For though a work may be agree- 
 able, yet esteem of the author is not the necessary 
 consequence. We may therefore conclude, that 
 things of this kind which excite not a spirit of 
 emulation, nor produce any strong impulse or 
 desire to imitate them, are of little use to the 
 beholders. But virtue has this peculiar property, 
 that at the same time that we admire her conduct, 
 we long to copy the example. The goods of 
 fortune we wish to enjoy, virtue we d.esire to 
 practise ; the former we are glad to receive from 
 others, the latter we are ambitious that others 
 should receive from us. The beauty of goodness 
 has an attractive power ; it kindles in us at once 
 an active principle ; it forms our manners, and 
 influences our desires, not only when represented 
 in a living example, but even in an historical 
 description. 
 
 For this reason we chose to proceed in writing 
 the lives of great men, and have composed this 
 tenth book, which contains the life of Pericles, 
 and that of Fabius Maximus, who carried on the 
 war against Hannibal ; men who resernbled each 
 other in many virtues, particularly in justice and 
 moderation, and who effectually served their 
 respective commonwealths, by patiently endur- 
 ing the injurious and capricious treatment they 
 received from their colleagues and their country- 
 men. Whether we are right in our judgment or 
 not, will be easy to see in the work itself. 
 
 Pericles was of the tribe of Acamantis, and of 
 the ward of Cholargia.^ His family was one of 
 the most considerable in Athens, both by the 
 father and mother’s side. His father Xanthippus, 
 who defeated the king of Persia’s generals at 
 Mycale, married Agariste, the niece of Clisthenes, 
 who expelled the family of Pisistratus, abolished 
 the tyranny, enacted laws, and established a 
 form of government tempered in such a manner 
 as tended to unanimity among the people, and 
 the safety of the state. She dreamed that she 
 was delivered of a lion, and a few days after 
 brought forth Pericles. His person in other 
 respects was well turned, but his head was dis- 
 proportionably long. For this reason almost all 
 his statues have the head covered with a helmet. 
 
 * This seems to be somewhat inconsistent with 
 that respect and esteem, in which the_ noble arts 
 of poetry and sculpture were held in ancient 
 Greece and Rome, and with that admiration 
 which the proficients in some arts always obtain 
 among the people. But there was still a kind of 
 jealousy between the poets and philosophers, and 
 our philosophical biographer shows pretty clearly 
 by the Platonic parade of this introduction, that 
 he would magnify the latter at the expense of the 
 former. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 the statuaries choosing, I suppose, to hide that 
 defect. But the Athenian poets called him Schino- 
 cephalus or 07iion-head^ for the word schinos is 
 sometimes used instead of scilla, a sea-onion . 
 Cratinus, the comic writer, in his play called 
 Chiro7ie}>, has this passage : 
 
 Faction received old Time to her embraces : 
 Hence came a tyrant-spawn, on earth called 
 Pericles, 
 
 In heaven the head-compellen . 
 
 And again in his Nemesis he thus addresses 
 him : 
 
 Come, blessed Jove,* the high and mighty head 
 I he friend of hospitality ! 
 
 And Teleclides says — 
 
 Now, in a maze of thought he ruminates 
 
 strange expedients, while his head, depress’d 
 With Its own weight, sinks on his knees : and 
 now 
 
 From the vast caverns of his brain burst forth 
 otorms and fierce thunders. 
 
 And Eupolis, in his Demi^ asked nev/s of all the 
 great orators, whom he represented as ascending 
 irom the shades below, when Pericles comes up 
 last, cries out — 
 
 Head of the tribes that haunt those spacious 
 realms. 
 
 Does he ascend ? 
 
 Most writers agree, that the master who 
 taught him music was called Damon, the first 
 sjdlable of whose name, they tell us, is to be pro- 
 nounced short; but Aristotle informs us, that 
 he learned that art of Pythoclides. As for 
 Uamon, he seems to have been a politician, who 
 under the pretence of teaching music, concealed 
 his great abilities from the vulgar: and he 
 attended Pericles as his tutor and assistant in 
 politics, m the same manner as a master of the 
 gymnastic art attends a young man to fit him 
 tor the ring. However, Damon’s giving lessons 
 upon the harp was discovered to be a mere pre- 
 text, and, as a busy politician and friend to 
 he was banished by the ostracism. Nor 
 was he ^ared by the comic poets. One of them, 
 tlius introduces a person addressing him 
 
 Inform me, Damon, first, does fame say true ? 
 And wast thou really Pericles's Chiro 7 i ? f 
 Pericles also attended the lectures of Zeno of 
 xL.lea, + who, in natural philosophy, was a follower 
 
 1^5 
 
 Plutarch afterwards observes) 
 was called Oly7Hphis, or Jupiter. The poet here 
 addresses him under that character with the 
 epithet oi ^xaKapte, which signifies blessed, but 
 may also signify great-headed. In our languac-e 
 we have no word with such a double meaning. 
 Just above he is called Cephalegeretes, hec^d- 
 C07npeller (as if his head was an assemblage of 
 many heads), instead of Nephelegeretesy clotid- 
 co77tpeller, a common epithet of Jupiter. 
 
 T Ihe word Chiro7t again is ambiguous, and 
 preceptor to Peri- 
 ^ thotimore wicked than Pericles ? 
 
 a was of Elea, a town of Italy, and 
 
 tin^iikhS^ f ° carefully dis- 
 
 the°Sto^M ‘he founder of the sect of 
 
 able for spoken of was respect- 
 
 able for attempting to rid his country of a tyrant. 
 
 of Parnienides, and who, by much practice in the 
 art of disputing, had learned to confound and 
 silence all his opponents ; as Timon the Phlasian 
 declares in these verses : 
 
 H^ve you not heard of Zeno’s mighty powers, 
 could change sides, yet changing triumph’d 
 
 In the tongue’s wars? 
 
 But the philosopher with whom he was most 
 intimately acquainted, who gave him that force 
 and sublim.ity of sentiment superior to all the 
 demagogues, who, in short, formed him to that 
 adm^able dignity of manners, was Anaxagoras 
 ^l^zomenian. This was he whom the people 
 of those times called notis or intelligeTtce, either 
 in admiration of his great understanding and 
 knowledge of the works of nature, or because he 
 was the first who clearly proved, that the universe 
 owed Its formation neither to chance nor necessity, 
 u ^ ^ pure and unmixed 77tind, who separated 
 
 the homogeneous parts from the other with which 
 they were confounded. 
 
 Charmed with the cornpanyol this philosopher, 
 and. instructed by him in the sublimest sciences, 
 Pericles acquired not only an elevation of senti- 
 ment, and a loftiness and purity of style, far 
 removed from the low expression of the vulgar, 
 but likewise a gravity of countenance which 
 relaxed not into laughter, a firm and even tone of 
 voice, an easy deportment, and a decency of 
 dress, which no vehemence of speaking ever put 
 into disorder. These things, and others of the 
 like nature, excited admiration in all that saw 
 him. 
 
 Such was his conduct, when a vile and aban- 
 doned fellow loaded him a whole day with re- 
 proaches and abuse ; he bore it with patience and 
 suence, and continued in public for the despatch 
 of some urgent affairs. In the evening he walked 
 softly home, this impudent wretch allowing, and 
 insulting him all the way with the most scurrilous 
 language. And as it was dark when he came to 
 his own door, he ordered one of his servants to 
 take a torch and light the man home. The poet 
 Ion, however, says he was proud and supercilious 
 in conversation, and that there was a great deal 
 of v?mity and contempt of others, mixed with his 
 dignity of inanner : on the other hand, he highly 
 extols the civility, complaisance, and politeness 
 
 Cimon. But to take no farther notice of Ion, 
 who perhaps would not have any great excellence 
 appear, without a mixture of something satirical, 
 as it was in the ancient tragedy j * Zeno desired 
 
 The tyrant took him, and caused him to be 
 pounded to death in a mortar. But his death 
 accomplished what he could not effect in his life- 
 time : lor his fellow citizens were so much incensed 
 at the dreadful manner of it, that they fell upon 
 the tyrant and stoned him. As to his arguments, 
 and those of his master Parmenides, pretended to 
 be so invincible, one of them was to prove there 
 can be no such thing as motion, since a thing can 
 never move in the place where it is, nor in the 
 place where it is not. But this sophism is easily 
 refuted ; for motion is the passing of a thing or 
 person into a new part of space. 
 
 * Tragedy at first was only a chorus in honour 
 of Bacchus. Persons dressed like satyrs were the 
 Derformers, and they often broke out into the most 
 icentious raillery. Afterwards, when tragedy 
 
ii6 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 those that called the gravity of Pericles pride and 
 an'Ogance, to be proud the same way , telling 
 them, the very acting of an excellent part might 
 insensibly produce a love and real imitation 
 
 These were not the only advantages which 
 Pericles gained by conversing with Anaxagoras. 
 From him he learned to overcome those terrors 
 which the various phenomena of the heavens raise 
 in those who know not their causes, and who 
 entertain a tormenting fe^ of the gods by reason 
 of that ignorance. Nor is there any cure for it 
 but the study of nature, which, mstead ot the 
 frightful extravagancies of superstition, irnplants 
 in us a sober piety, supported by a rational hope. 
 
 We are told, there was brought to Pericles, 
 from one of his farms, a ram’s head with only one 
 horn ; and Lampo the soothsayer observing that 
 the horn grew strong and firm out of the middle 
 of the forehead, declared, that the two parties in 
 the state, namely, those of Thucydides and Peri- 
 cles, would unite, and invest the whole power in 
 him with whom the prodigy was found ; but 
 Anaxagoras having dissected the head, showed 
 that the brain did not fill the whole cavity, but 
 had contracted itself into an oval form, and pointed 
 directly to that part of the skull whence the horn 
 took its rise. This procured Anaxagoras great 
 honour with the spectators and Lampo was no 
 less honoured for his prediction, when, soon atter, 
 upon the fall of Thucydides, the administration 
 was put entirely into the hands of Pericles. 
 
 But, in my opinion, the philosopher and the 
 diviner may well enough be reconciled, and both 
 be right; the one discovering the cause and the 
 other the end. It was the business of the former 
 to account for the appearance, and to consider 
 how it came about ; and of the latter, to show 
 why it was so formed, and what it portended. 
 Those who say, that when the cause is found out 
 the prodigy ceases, do not consider, that if they 
 reject such signs as are preternatural, they must 
 also deny that artificial^ signs are of any use ; the 
 clattering of brass quoits,* the light of beacons, 
 and the shadow of a sun-dial, have all of them 
 their proper natural causes, and yet each has 
 another signification. But perhaps this question 
 might be more properly discussed in another 
 
 ^^^ericles, in his youth, stood in great fear the 
 people. For in his countenance he was like Pisis- 
 traius the tyrant ; and he perceived the old ni^n 
 were much struck by a farther resemblance in the 
 sweetness of his voice, the volubility of his tongue, 
 and the roundness of his periods. As he was, 
 moreover, of a noble family and opulent fortune, 
 and his i ri ends were the most cdnsiderable men 
 in the state, he dreaded the ban of ostracism, and 
 there. ore intermeddled not with state affairs, but 
 
 behaved with great courage and intrepidity m the 
 field. However, when Aristides was dead, i he- 
 mistocles banished, and Cimon much ernployed 
 in expeditions at a distance from Greece, Pericles 
 engaged in the administration. He chose rather 
 to solicit the favour of the multitude and the poor, 
 than of the rich and the few, contrary to his natural 
 disposition, which was far from inclining him to 
 court popularity. . - ^ n- 
 
 It seems he was apprehensive of falling under 
 the suspicion of aiming at the supreme power, 
 and was sensible, besides, that Cimon was 
 attached to the nobility, and extremely beloved 
 by persons of the highest eminence ; and, there- 
 fore, in order to secure himself, and to find 
 resources against the power of Cimon, he studied 
 to ingratiate himself with the common people. 
 At the same time, he entirely changed his manner 
 of living. He appeared not in the streets, except 
 when he went to the forum or the senate house. 
 He declined the invitations of his friends, and all 
 social entertainments and recreations ; insomuch, 
 that in the whole time of his administration, 
 which was a considerable length, he never went 
 to sup with any of his friends, but once, v.'hich 
 was at the marriage of his nephew Euryptolemus, 
 and he stayed there only until the ceremony ot 
 libation was ended. He considered that the 
 freedom of entertainments takes away all dis- 
 tinction of office, and that dignity is but little 
 consistent with familiarity. Real and solid 
 virtue, indeed, the more it is seen, the more 
 glorious it appears; and there is nothing in a 
 good man’s conduct, as a magistrate, “^o great in 
 the eye of the public, as is the general course of 
 his behaviour in private to his most intimate 
 friends. Pericles, however, took care not to 
 make his person cheap among the people, and 
 appeared among them only at proper interva s . 
 nor did he speak to all points that were delated 
 before them, but reserved himself, like the bala- 
 minian galley t (as Critolaus says), for greater 
 occasions; despatching business of less conse- 
 auence by other orators with whom he had an 
 intimacy. One of these, we are told, was 
 
 took a graver turn, something of the former 
 drollery was still retained, as in that which we 
 call tragi-comedy. In time, serious- characters 
 and events became the subject of tragedy, with- 
 out that mixture ; but even then, after exhibiting 
 three or four serious tragedies, the poets used to 
 conclude their contention for the prize, whh a 
 satirical one : of this sort is the Cyclops of Euri- 
 pides, and the only one remaining. 
 
 * The clattering of brass quoits or plates was 
 sometimes a military signal among the Greciaiis. 
 Among the Romans it was a signal to call the 
 wrestlers to the ring. 
 
 * The popular party in Athens were continually 
 making efforts against those small remains ot 
 power which were yet in the hands of the nobility. 
 As Pericles could not lead the party of the nobles, 
 because Cimon, by the dignity of his birth, me 
 lustre of his actions, and the largeness of his 
 estate, had placed himself at their head, he had 
 no other resource than to court the _ populace. 
 And he flattered their favourite passion m the 
 most agreeable manner, by lessening the power 
 and privileges of the court of Areopagus. which 
 was the chief support of the nobility, and indeed 
 of the whole state. Thus the bringing of almost 
 all causes before the tribunal of the people, the 
 multiplying of gratuities, which were only another 
 word for bribes, and the giving the people a taste 
 for expensive pleasures, caused the downfall ot 
 the Athenian commonwealth ; though the per- 
 sonal abilities of Pericles supported it during his 
 
 ^^^^The Salaminian galley was a consecrated 
 vessel which the Athenians never made use of but 
 on extraordinary occasions. They sent it, for 
 instance, for a general whom they wanted to call 
 to account, or with sacrifices to Apollo, or some 
 other deity. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Ephialtes, who, according to Plato, overthrew 
 the power of the council of Areopagus, by giving 
 the citizens a large and intemperate draught of 
 liberty. On w^hich account the comic writers 
 speak of the people of Athens as of a horse wild 
 and unmanaged — 
 
 Which listens to the reins no more. 
 But in his maddening course bears headlong 
 down 
 
 The very friends that feed him. 
 
 Pericles, desirous to make his language a proper 
 vehicle for his sublime sentiments, and to speak 
 in'a manner that became the dignity of his life, 
 availed himself greatly of what he had learned of 
 Anaxagoras; adorning his eloquence with the 
 rich colours of philosophy. For, adding (as the 
 divine Plato expresses it) the loftiness of imagi- 
 nation, and all commanding energy, with which 
 philosophy supplied him. to his native powers of 
 genius, and mak.ng use of whatever he found to 
 his purpose, in the study of nature, to dignify the 
 art of speaking, he far excelled all other orators.* 
 Hence he is said to have gained the surname of 
 Olympitis; though some will have it to have 
 been from the edifices with which he adorned the 
 city ; and others, from his high authority both in 
 peace and war. There appears, indeed, no 
 absurdity in supposing that all these things might 
 contribute to that glorious distinction. Yet the 
 strokes of satire, both serious and ludicrous, in 
 the comedies of those times, indicate that this 
 title was given him chiefly on account of his 
 eloquence. For they tell us that in his harangues 
 he thundered and lightened, and that his tongue 
 was armed with thunder. Thucydides, the son 
 of iVIilesius, is said to have given a pleasant 
 account of the force of his eloquence. Thucy- 
 dides, was a great and respectable man, who for 
 a long time opposed the measures of Pericles : 
 and when Archidamus, one of the kings of Lace- 
 dsemon asked him, which was the best wrestler, 
 Pericles, or he ; he answered, “ When I throw 
 him, he says he was never down, and he persuades 
 the very spectators to believe so.” 
 
 Yet such was the solicitude of Pericles when he 
 had to speak in public, that he always first 
 addressed a prayer to the gods,t that not a word 
 might unawares escape him unsuitable to the 
 occasion. He left nothing in writing, but some 
 public decrees ; and only a few of his sayings are 
 recorded. He used to say ( or instance) that the 
 isle of .^gina should not be suffered to remain an 
 eye-sore to the Pirseus : and that he saw a war 
 approaching from Peloponnesus. And when 
 Sophocles, who went in joint command with him 
 upon an expedition at sea, happened to praise the 
 beauty of a certain boy, he said, A general, my 
 friend, should not only have pure hands, but 
 pure eyes. Stesimbrotus produces this passage 
 from the oration which Pericles pronounced in 
 
 * Plato observes, on the same occasion, that an 
 orator as well as a physician ought to have a 
 general knowledge of nature. 
 
 t Quintilian says, he prayed, that not a word 
 might escape him disagreeable to the people. 
 And this is the more probable account of the 
 matter because (according to Suidas) Pericles 
 wrote down his orations before he pronounced 
 did^^ J and, indeed, was the first who 
 
 memory of tho.se Athenians who fell in the 
 Samian war, “They are become immortal like 
 . ®., gods themselves are not 
 
 visible to us ; but from the honours they receive, 
 and the happiness they enjoy, we conclude they 
 are immortal ; and such should those brave men 
 be who die for their country.” 
 
 Thucydides represents the administration of 
 Pencles as favouring aristocracy, and tells us 
 that, though the government was called demo- 
 cratical, it was really in the hands of one who 
 had engrossed the whole authority. Many other 
 writers likewise inform us, that by him the people 
 were first indulged with a divi.sion of lands, were 
 treated at the public expense with theatrical 
 diversions, and were paid for the most common 
 services to the state. As this new indulgence 
 from the government was an impolitic custom 
 which rendered the people expensive and luxu- 
 rious, and destroyed that frugality and love of 
 labour which supported them before, it is proper 
 that we should trace the effect to its cause, by a 
 retrospect into the circumstances of the republic. 
 
 At first, as we have observed, to raise himself 
 to some sort of equality with Cimon, who was 
 then at the height of glory, Pericles made his 
 court to the people. And as Cimon was his 
 superior m point of fortune, which he employed 
 in relieving the poor Athenians, in providinc 
 victuals every day for the necessitous, and cloth- 
 mg the aged ; and, besides this, levelled his 
 fences with the ground, that all might be at 
 liberty to gatner his fruit ; Pericles had recourse 
 to the expedient of dividing the public treasure ; 
 which scheme, as Aristotle informs us, was pro- 
 psed to him by Demonides of Jos.* Accordingly 
 by supplying the people with money for the 
 public diversions, and for their attendance in 
 courts of judicature,! and by other pensions and 
 gratuities, he so inveigled them as to avail himself 
 ot their interest against the council of the Areo- 
 pgus, of which he had no right to be a member, 
 having never had the fortune to be chosen 
 arcjion, thesinothetes, king of tke sacred rites or 
 Polemarck For persons were of old appointed 
 to these offices by lot ; and such as had discharcred 
 them well and such only, were admitted^as 
 judges in the Areopagus. Pericles, therefore, by 
 his popularity raised a party against that council 
 and, by means of Ephialtes, took from them th4 
 cognizance of many causes that had been under 
 their jurisdiction. He likewise caused Cimon to 
 be banished by the Ostracis77i, as an enemy to 
 the people, and a friend to the Lacedsmonians : 
 
 * Jos was one of the isles called Sporades, in 
 the ^gean sea, and celebrated for the tomb of 
 Homer. But some learned men are of opinion 
 u Intfei/, we should read and 
 
 '^as not of the island of Jos, but 
 of Oia, which was a borough in Attica. 
 
 A t several courts of judicature in 
 
 Athens, composed of a certain number of the 
 citizens ; who sometimes received one obolus each 
 for every cause they tried ; and sometimes men 
 who aimed at popularity procured this fee to be 
 mcreased. 
 
 X His treason against the state was pretended 
 to consist in receiving presents or other gratifi- 
 cations from the Macedonians, whereby he was 
 prevailed on to let slip the opportunity he had to 
 enlarge the Athenian conquests, after he had 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 a man who in birth and fortune had no superior, 
 who had gained very glorious victories over the 
 barbarians, and filled the city with money and 
 other spoils, as we have related in his life. Such 
 was the authority of Pericles with the common 
 people. . . , 
 
 The term of Cimon’s banishment, as it was by 
 ostracism, was limited by law to ten years. 
 Meantime, the Lacedaemonians with a great army 
 entered the territory of Tanagra, and the Athe- 
 nians immediately marching out against them, 
 Cimon returned, and placed himself in the ranks 
 with those of his tribe, intending by his deeds to 
 wipe otf the aspersion of favouring the Lacedae- 
 monians, and to venture his life with his country- 
 men ; but by a combination of the friends of 
 Pericles he was repulsed as an exile. This seems 
 to have been the cause that Periclp exerted 
 himself in a particular manner in that oattle, and 
 exposed his person to the greatest dangers. All 
 Cimon’s friends, whom Pericles had accused as 
 accomplices in his pretended crime, fell honour- 
 ably that day together : and the Athenians, who 
 were defeated upon their own borders, and ex- 
 pected a still sharper conflict in the summer, 
 grievously repented of their treatment ot Cimon, 
 and longed for his return. Pericles, sensible of 
 the people’s inclinations, did not hesitate to gratify 
 them, but himself proposed a decree, for recalling 
 Cimon ; and, at his return, a peace was agreed 
 upon through his mediation. h or the Lacedae- 
 monians had a particular regard for him, as well 
 as aversion for Pericles and the other denaagogues. 
 But some authors write, that Pericles did not pro- 
 cure an order tor Cimon’s return, till they had 
 entered into a private com.pact, by means of 
 Cimon’s sister, Elpinice, that Cimon should have 
 the command abroad, and with 200 galleys lay 
 waste the king of Persia’s dominions, and Pericles 
 have the direction of affairs at home. A story 
 goes, that Elpinice before this, had softened the 
 resentment of Pericles against Cimon, and pro- 
 cured her brother a milder sentence than that of 
 death. Pericles was one of those appointed by 
 the people to manage the impeachment; and 
 when Elpinice addressed him as a suppliant, he 
 smiled and said, “You are old, Elpinice; much 
 too old to solicit in so weighty an affair.” How- 
 ever, he rose up but once to speak, barely to 
 acquit himself of his trust, and did not bear so 
 hard upon Cimon as the rest of his accusers.* * 
 Who then can give credit to Idomeneus. when he 
 says, that Pericles caused the orator Ephialtes, 
 his friend and assistant in the administration, to 
 be assassinated, through jealousy and envy of his 
 great character? I know not where he met with 
 this calumny, which he vents with great bitterness 
 against a man, not indeed, in all respects irre- 
 proachable, but who certainly had such a great- 
 ness of mind, and high sense of honour, as was 
 incompatible with an action so savage and in- 
 
 taken the gold mines of Thrace. — Cimon answered, 
 that he had prosecuted the war to the utmost of 
 his power against the Thracians and their other 
 enemies ; but that he had made no inroads into 
 Macedonia, because he did not conceive tha.t he 
 was to act as a public enemy to mankind. 
 
 * Yet Cimon was fined fifty talents, or 
 sterling, and narrowly escaped a capital sentence, 
 having only a majority of three votes to prevent 
 it. 
 
 human. The truth of the matter, according to 
 Aristotle, is, that Ephialtes being grown fqrinid- 
 able to the nobles, on account of his inflexible 
 severity in prosecuting all that invaded the rights 
 of the people, his enemies caused him to be taken 
 off in a private and treacherous manner, by 
 Aristodicus of Tanagra. 
 
 About the same time died Cimon, in the expe- 
 dition to Cyprus. And the nobility perceiving 
 that Pericles was now arrived at a height of 
 authority which set him far above the other 
 citizens, were desirous of having some person to 
 oppose him, who might be capable of giving a 
 check to his power, and of preventing his making 
 himself absolute. For this purpose they set up 
 Thucydides, of the ward of Alopece, a man of 
 great prudence and brother-in-law to Cimon. 
 He had not, indeed, Cimon’s talents for war, but 
 was superior to him in forensic and political 
 abilities ; and, by residing constantly in Athens, 
 and opposing Pericles in the general assembly, 
 he soon brought the government to an eqtiilibriuin. 
 For he did not suffer persons of superior rank to 
 be dispersed and confounded with the rest of the 
 people, because in that case their dignity was ob- 
 scured and lost ; but collected them into a separate 
 body, by which means their authority was en- 
 hanced, and sufficient weight thrown into their 
 scale. There was, indeed, froni the beginning, a 
 kind of doubtful separation, which, like the flaws 
 in a piece of iron, indicated that the aristocratical 
 party and that of the commonalty were not per- 
 fectly one, though they were not actually divided ; 
 but the ambition of Pericles and Thucydides, and 
 the contest between them, had so extraordinary 
 an effect upon the city, that it was quite broken 
 in two, and one part was called the people, and 
 the other the nobility. For this reason, Pericles, 
 more than ever, gave the people the reins, and 
 endeavoured to ingratiate himself with them, 
 contriving to have always some show, or play, or 
 feast, or procession in the city, and to amuse it 
 with the politest pleasures. 
 
 As another means of employing their attention, 
 he sent out sixty galleys every year, manned for 
 eight months, with a considerable number of the 
 citizens, who were both paid for their service, and 
 improved themselves as mariners. He likewise 
 sent a colony of 1000 men to the Chersonesus, 500 
 to Naxos, 250 to Andros, 1000 into the country of 
 the Bisaltse in Thrace, and others into Italy, who 
 settled in Sybaris, and changed its name to 
 Thurii. These things he did, to clear the city of 
 a useless multitude, who were very troublesome 
 when they had nothing to do ; to make provision 
 for the most necessitous ; and to keep the allies of 
 Athens in awe, by placing colonies like so many 
 garrisons in their neighbourhood. 
 
 That which was the chief delight of the Athe- 
 nians and the wonder of strangers, and which 
 alone sei’ves for a proof that the boasted power 
 and opulence of ancient Greece is not an idle tale, 
 was the magnificence of the temples and public 
 edifices. Yet no part of the conduct of Pericles 
 moved the spleen of his enemies more than this. 
 In their accusations of him to the people, they in- 
 sisted, that he had brought the greatest disgrace 
 upon the Athenians by removing the public 
 treasures of Greece from Delos, and taking them 
 into his own custody. That he had not left him- 
 self even the specious apology, of having caused 
 the money to be brought to Athens for its greater 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 - 119 
 
 security, and to keep it from being seized by the 
 barbarians. That Greece must needs consider it 
 as the highest insult, and an act of open tyramiy, 
 when she saw the money she had been obliged 
 to contribute towards the war, lavished by the 
 Athenians in gilding their city, and ornament- 
 ing it with statues, and temples that cost 1000 
 talents, * as a proud and vain woman decks herself 
 out with jewels. Pericles answered this .charge 
 by observing, that they were not obliged to give 
 the allies any account of the sums they had re- 
 ceived, since they had kept the barbarians at a 
 distance, and effectually defended the allies, who 
 had not furnished either horses, ships, or men, 
 but only contributed money, which is no longer 
 the property of the giver, but of the receiver, if he 
 pertorms the conditions on which it is received. 
 That as the state was provided with all the neces- 
 saries of war, its superfluous wealth should be 
 laid out on such works as, when executed, would 
 be eternal ^ monuments of its glory, and which, 
 during their execution, would diffuse a universal 
 plenty ; for as so many kinds of labour, and such 
 a variety of instruments and materials were 
 requisite to these undertakings, every art would 
 be exerted, every hand employed, almost the 
 whole city would be in pay, and be at the same 
 time both adorned and supported by itself. In- 
 deed, such as were of a proper age and strength, 
 were wanted for the wars, and well rewarded for 
 their services; and as for the mechanics and 
 meaner sort of people, they went not without 
 their share of the public money, nor yet had they 
 it to support them in idleness. By the construct- 
 ing of great edifices, which required many arts 
 and a long time to finish them, they had equal 
 petensions to be considered out of the treasury 
 (though they stirred not out of the city) with the 
 mariners and soldiers, guards and garrisons, 
 h or the different materials, such as stone, brass, 
 ivory, gold, ebony, and cypress, furnished em- 
 ployment to carpenters, masons, braziers, gold- 
 smiths, painters, turners, and other artificers ; the 
 conveyance of them by sea employed merchants 
 and sailors, and by land wheelwrights, waggoners, 
 carriers, rope-makers, leather-cutters, paviors, and 
 iron-founders : and every art had a number of the 
 lower people ranged in proper subordination to 
 execute it like soldiers under the command of a 
 general. Thus by the^ exercise of these different 
 trades, plenty was diffused among persons of 
 every rank and condition. Thus works were 
 astonishing magnitude, and inimit- 
 ple beauty and perfection, every architect striv- 
 ing to surpass the magnificence of the design with 
 the elegance of the execution ; 5^et still the most 
 wpderful circumstance was the expedition with 
 v/hich they were completed. Many edifices, each 
 of which seems to have required the labour of 
 several successive ages, were finished during the 
 administration of one prosperous man. 
 
 It is said, that when Agatharcus the painter 
 valued himself upon the celerity and ease with 
 wpch he despatched his pieces, Zeuxis replied, 
 
 T • Doast, it shall be of the slowness with which, 
 
 1 finish mine.” For ease and speed in the execu- 
 tion seldom give a work any lasting importance, 
 or exquisite beauty ; while, on the other hand, the 
 time which is e xpended in labour, is recovered 
 
 * The Parthenon, or tem.ple of Minerva, is 
 said to have cost 1000 talents. 
 
 ^d repaid in the duration of the performance. 
 Jdence we have the more reason to wonder that 
 the structures raised by Pericles should be built in 
 so short a time, and yet built for ages : for as each 
 of them, as soon as finished, had the venerable air 
 of antiquity ; so, now they are old, they have the 
 ireshness of a modem building. A bloom is 
 diffused over them, which preserves their aspect 
 untarnished by time, as if they were animated 
 with a spirit of perpetual youth and unfading 
 elegance. 
 
 Phidias was appointed by Pericles superintend- 
 ent of all the public edifices, though the Athe- 
 nians had then other eminent architects and 
 excellent workmen. ^ The Parthenon, or temple 
 of Pallas, whose dimensions had been too feet 
 ^uare,* was rebuilt by Callicrates and Ictinus. 
 Coroebus began the temple of Initiation at Eleusis, 
 but only lived to finish the lower rank of columns 
 wnth their architraves. Metagenes, of the ward 
 of Xypete, added the rest of the entablature, and 
 toe upper row of columns; and Xenocles of 
 Cholargus built the dome on the top. The long 
 wall, the building of which Socrates says he heard 
 Permles propose to the people, was undertaken 
 by Callicrates. Cratinus ridicules this work as 
 proceeding very slowly : 
 
 Stpnes upon stones the orator has pil’d 
 With swelling words, but words will build no 
 walls. 
 
 The Odeum, or music theatre, which was like- 
 wise built by the direction of Pericles, had within 
 It many rov/s of seats and of pillars ; the roof was 
 of a conic figure, after the model (we are told) of 
 the king of Persia’s pavilion. Cratinus, there- 
 fore, rallies him again in his play called Thrattce : 
 As Jove, an onion on his head he wears ; 
 
 As Pericles, a whole orchestra bears ; 
 
 Afraid of brofis and banishment no more. 
 
 He tunes the shell he trembled at before ! 
 Pericles at this time exerted all his interest to 
 have a decree made, _ appointing a prize for the 
 best performer in music during the Pa 7 iathe 7 uea ; 
 and, as he was himself appointed judge and dis- 
 tributor of the prizes, he gave the contending 
 artists directions in what manner to proceed, 
 whether their performance was vocal or on the 
 flute or lyre. From that time the prizes in music 
 were always contended for in the odeum. 
 
 ffhe vestibule of the citadel was furnished in 
 five years by Mnesicles the ai'chitect. A wonder- 
 ful event that happened while the work was in 
 hand, showed that the goddess was not averse to 
 the work, but rather took it into her protection, 
 and encouraged them to complete it. One of the 
 best and most active of the workmen, missing 
 his step, fell from the top to the bottom, and 
 was bruised in such a manner that his life was 
 despaired of by the physicians. Pericles was 
 greatly concerned at this accident; but, in the 
 niidst of his affliction, the goddess appeared to 
 him in a dream, and informed him of a remedy, 
 which he applied, and thereby soon recovered the 
 patient. In memory of this cure, he placed in 
 the citadel, near the altar (which is said to have 
 
 * It was called Hecato 77 ipedon, because it had 
 been originally 100 feet square. And having been 
 burned by the Persians, it was rebuilt by Pericles, 
 and retained that name after it was greatly 
 enlarged. 
 
120 
 
 been there before) a brazen statue of the M inerva 
 of health. The golden statue of the same goddess, _ 
 was the workmanship of Phidias, and his name is 
 inscribed upon the pedestal (as we^ have already 
 observed). Through the friendship of Pericles 
 he had the direction of everything, and all the 
 artists received his orders. For this the one was 
 envied, and the other slandered ; and it was inti- 
 mated that Phidias received into his house ladies 
 for Pericles, who came thither under pretence of 
 seeing his works. The comic poets, getting hold of 
 this story, represented him as a perfect libertine. 
 They accused him of an intrigue with the wife of 
 Menippus, his friend and lieutenant in the army : 
 and because Pyrilampes, another intimate ac- 
 quaintance of his, had a collection of curious birds, 
 and particularly of peacocks, it was supposed that 
 he kept them only for presents^ for those women 
 Vv'^ho granted favours to Pericles. But what 
 wonder is it, if men of a satirical turn daily 
 sacrifice the characters of the great to that 
 malevolent Demon, the envy of the multitude : 
 when Stesimbrotus of Thasos has dared to lodge 
 against Pericles that horrid and groundless ac- 
 cusation ®f corrupting his son’s wife ? so difficult 
 is it to come at truth in the walk of history ; since, 
 if the writers live after the events they relate, 
 they can be but imperfectly informed of facts, and 
 if they describe the persons and transactions of 
 their own times, they are tempted by envy and 
 hatred, or by interest and friendship, to vitiate 
 and pervert the truth. 
 
 The orators of Thucydides’s party raised a cla- 
 mour against Pericles, asserting, that he wasted 
 the public treasure and brought the revenue to 
 nothing. Pericles in his defence asked the people 
 in full assembly, whether they thought he had 
 expended too much : upon their answering in the 
 affirmative, “Then be it,” said he, “charged to 
 my account,! not yours : only let the new edifices 
 be inscribed with my name, not that of the people 
 of Athens.” Whether it was that they admired 
 the greatness of his spirit, or were ambitious to 
 
 * This statue was of gold and ivory. Pausanias 
 has given us a description of it. ^ The goddess 
 was represented standing, clothed in a tunic that 
 reached down to the foot. On her cegis, or breast- 
 plate, was Medusa’s head in ivory, and •victory. 
 She held a spear in her hand ; and at her feet lay 
 a buckler, and a dragon, supposed to be Enchtho- 
 nius. The sphinx was represented on the middle 
 of her helmet, with a griffin on each side. This 
 statue was thirty-nine feet -high; the victory on 
 the breastplate was about four cubits : and forty 
 talents of gold were employed upon it 
 
 t It appears from a passage in Thucydides, 
 that the public stock of the Athenians amounted 
 to 9700 talents (or ;^i,875,950 sterling), of which, 
 Pericles had laid out in those public buildings 
 3700 talents. It is natural, therefore, to ask, how 
 he could tell the people that it should be at his 
 own expense, especially since Plutarch tells us in 
 the sequel, that he had not in the least improved 
 the estate left him by his father. _ To which the 
 true answer probably is, that Pericles was 
 tician enough to know that the vanity of the Athe- 
 nians would never let them agree that he should 
 inscribe the new magnificent buildings with his 
 name, in exclusion of theirs ; or he might venture 
 to say anything, being secure of a majority of 
 votes to be given as he pleased. 
 
 share the glory of such magnificent works, they 
 cried out, that he might spend as much as he 
 pleased of the public treasure, without sparing it 
 in the least. 
 
 At last the contest came on between him and 
 Thucydides, which of them should be banished by 
 the ostracism : Pericles gained the victory, 
 
 banished his adversary, and entirely defeated his 
 party. The opposition now being at an end, and 
 unanimity taking place amongst all ranks of 
 people, Pericles became sole master of Athens, 
 and its dependencies. The revenues, the army, 
 and navy ; the islands and the sea ; a most exten- 
 sive territory, peopled by barbarians as well as 
 Greeks, fortified with the obedience of subject 
 nations, the friendship of kings and alliance of 
 princes, were all at his command. 
 
 From this time he became a different man ; he 
 was no longer so obsequious to the humour of the 
 populace, v/hich is as wild and as changeable as 
 the winds. The multitude were not indulged or 
 courted ; the government in fact was not popular ; 
 its loose and luxuriant harmony was confined- to 
 stricter measures, and it assumed an aristocratical 
 or rather monarchical form. He kept the public 
 good in his eye, and pursued the straight path of 
 honour. For the most part gently leading them 
 by argument to a sense of what was right, and 
 sometimes forcing them to comply with what was 
 for their own advantage ; in this respect imitating 
 a good physician, who in the various symptoms of 
 a long disease, sometimes administers medicines 
 tolerably agreeable, and, at other times, sharp 
 and strong ones, when such alone are capable of 
 restoring the patient. He was the man that had 
 the art of controlling those many disorderly 
 passions which necessarily spring up^ amongst a 
 people possessed of so extensive a dominion. The 
 two engines he worked v/ith were hope and fear ; 
 with these, repressing their violence when they 
 were too impetuous, and supporting their spirits 
 when inclined to languor, he made it appear that 
 rhetoric is (as Plato defined it) the art of ruling 
 the minds of men, and that its principal province 
 consists in moving the passions and affections of 
 the soul, which like so many strings in a musical 
 instrument, require the touch of a masterly and 
 delicate hand. N or were the powers of eloquence 
 alone sufficient, but (as Thucydides observes) the 
 orator was a man of probity and unblemished 
 reputation. Money could not bribe him , he was 
 so much above the desire of it, that though he 
 added greatly to the opulence of the state, which 
 he found not inconsiderable, and though his power 
 exceeded that of many kings and tyrants, some 
 of whom have bequeathed to their posterity the 
 sovereignty they had obtained, yet he added not 
 one drachma to his paternal estate. 
 
 Thucydides, indeed, gives this candid account 
 of the power and authority of Pericles, but the 
 comic writers abuse him in a most malignant 
 manner, giving his friends the name of the new 
 pisistratidee, and calling upon him to swear that 
 he would never attempt to make himself absolute, 
 since his authority was already much too great 
 and overbearing in a free state. ^ Teleclides says, 
 the Athenians had given up to him 
 
 The tribute of the states, the states themselves, 
 
 To bind, to loose ; to build and to destroy; 
 
 In peace, in war, to govern ; nay, to rule 
 
 Their very fate, like some superior being. 
 
 FLUTARCirS LIVES, 
 
PERICLES, I2I 1 
 
 And this not only for a time, or during the prime 
 and flower of a short administration ; but for forty 
 years together he held the pre-eminence, amidst 
 ; such men as Ephialtes, Leocrates, Myronides, 
 j Cimon, Tolmides, and Thucydides ; and continued 
 ; it no less than fifteen years after the fall and 
 i banishment of the latter. The power of the 
 i magistrates, which to them was but annual, all 
 j centred in him, yet still he kept himself untainted 
 by avarice. Not that he was inattentive to his 
 finances ; but on the contrary, neither neghgent 
 of his paternal estate, nor yet willing to have 
 much trouble with it ; as he had not much time 
 to spare, he brought the management of it into 
 such a method as was very easy, at the same time 
 that it was exact. For he used to turn a whole 
 yearns produce into money altogether, and with 
 this he bought from day to day all manner of 
 necessaries at the market. This way of living 
 was not agreeable to his sons when grov/n up, 
 and the allowance he made the women did not 
 appear to them a generous one : they complained 
 of a pittance daily measured out with scrupulous 
 economy, v/hich admitted of none of those super- 
 fluities so common in great houses and w'ealthy 
 famiUes, and could not bear to think of the ex-, 
 penses l^ing so nicely adjusted to the income. 
 
 The person who managed these concerns with 
 so much exactness was a servant of his named 
 Evangeleus, either remarkably fitted for the pur- 
 pose by nature, or formed to it by Pericles. 
 Anaxagoras, indeed, considered these low’er atten- 
 tions as inconsistent with his wisdom. Following 
 the dictates of enthusiasm, and wrapt up in sub- 
 lime inquiries, he quitted his house, and left his 
 lands untilled and desolate. But, in my opinion, 
 there is an essential difference between a specu- 
 lative and a practical philosopher. The former 
 advances his ideas into the regions of science 
 without the assistance of anything corporeal or 
 external ; the latter endeavours to apply his great 
 qualities to the use of mankind, and riches afford 1 
 him not only necessary but excellent assistance. ; 
 Thus it was with Pericles, who by his wealth was 
 enabled to relieve numbers of the poor citizens. 
 Nay, for want of such prudential regards, this 
 very Anaxagoras, we are told, lay neglected and 
 unprovided for, insomuch that the poor old man 
 had covered up his head and w'as going to starve 
 himself.* But an account of it being brought to 
 Pericles, he was extremely moved at it, ran imme- 
 diately to him, expostulated, entreated ; bewailing 
 not so much the fate of his friend as his own, if 
 his administration should lose so valuable a coun- 
 sellor. Anaxagoras, uncovering his face, replied, 
 
 “ Ah, Pericles ! those that have need of a lamp, 
 take care to supply it with oiL” 
 
 By this time the Lacedaemonians began to ex- 
 press some jealoi^'^ of the Athenian greatness, 
 and Pericles walling to advance it still higher, 
 and to make the people more sensible of their 
 importance and more inclinable to great attempts, 
 procured an order, that all the Greeks, where- 
 soever they resided, whether in Europe or in 
 Asia, whether their cities were small or great, 
 should send deputies to Athens to consult about 
 
 rebuilding the Grecian temples which the bar- , 
 bari^s had burned, and absut providing those 
 sacrifices which had been vowed during the 
 Persia wmr, for the preservation of Greece ; and 
 likewise to enter into such measiures as might 
 secure navigation and mam tain the peace. . 
 
 Accordingly twenty persons, each upwards of 1 
 fifty years of age, were sent with this proposal to j 
 the different states of Greece. Five went to the ( 
 ' lonians and Dorians in Asia, and the islanders as ; 
 i far as Lesbos, and Rhodes ; five to the cities 
 1 about the Hellespont and in Thrace, as far as \ 
 j Byzantium; five to the inhabitants of Boeotia, 
 
 I Phocis, and Peloponnesus, and from thence, by 
 i Locri ailong the adjoining continent, to Acamania 
 ^ and Ambracia. The rest w'ere despatched through 
 I Euboea to the Greeks that dwelt upon Mount 
 . Oetra and near the Maliac Bay, to the Phithiotae, 
 the Achaeans * and Thessalians, inviting them to 
 join in the council and new confederacy for the 
 preservation of the peace of Greece. It took no 
 ; effect _ how-ever, nor did the cities send their 
 deputies : the reason of w^hich is said to be the 
 opposition of the Lacedsmonians,t for the pro- 
 posal was first rejected in Peloponnesus. But I 
 was vriliing to give account of it as a specimen of 
 the greatness of the orator’s spirit, and of his dis- 
 position to form magnificent designs. 
 
 His chief merit in war was the safety of his 
 measures. He never willingly engaged in any 
 uncertain or very dangerous expedition, nor had 
 any ambition to imitate those generals who are 
 admired as great men, because their rash enter- 
 prises have been attended with success; he always ; 
 told the Athenians, that as far as their fate de- 
 pended upon him, they should be immortal. : 
 Perceiving that Tolmides, the son of Tolmasus, ■ 
 in confidence of his former success and military j 
 reputation, was preparing to invade Boeotia at an 
 imseasonable time, and that over and above the 
 regular troops, he had iiersuaded the bravest | 
 j and most spirited of the Athenian ye ^th, to the ; 
 number of loco, to go volunteers in ttiat expedi- I 
 tion, he^ addressed him in public and tried to j 
 divert him from it, making use, among the rest, f 
 of those well-known words, “ If you regard not 1 
 the opinion of Pericles, yet wait at least for the 1 
 adiice of time, who is the best of all counsellors.” 
 This sajdng, for the present, gained no great 
 applause : but when, a few days after, news was 
 brought, that Tolmides was defeated and killed 
 at Coronea, + together with many of the bravest 
 citizens, it procured Pericles great respect and ‘ 
 love from the people, who considered it as a proof, : 
 
 * AcJuzansyFi^ are sometimes to understand | 
 
 the Greeks in general, especially in the writings 
 of the poets ; and sometimes the inhabitants of a 
 particular district in Peloponnesus : but neither 
 of these can be the meaning in this place. i 
 
 must here understand a people of Thessaly, called ; 
 AcJuza7is, 
 
 t It is no wonder that the Lacedaemonians 
 opposed this undertaking, since the giving way to 
 it would have been acknowledging the Athenians 
 as masters of all Greece. Indeed, the Athenians : 
 should not have attempted it, without an order or ' 
 decree of the Amphictyons. j 
 
 X This defeat happened in the second year of 
 the eighty-third olympiad, 445 years before the 
 Christian era. and more than twenty years before I 
 the death of Pericles. ' 
 
 1 
 
 * It was customary among the ancients for a 
 person who was determined to put an end to his 
 life to cover up his head ; whether he devoted 
 himself to death for the service of his country, or, 
 being weary of his being, bade the world adieu, j 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 not only of his sagacity, but of his affection for 
 his countrymen. 
 
 Of his military expeditions, that to the Cher- 
 sonesus procured him most honour, because it 
 proved very salutary to the Greeks who dwelt 
 there. For he not only strengthened their cities 
 with the addition of looo able-bodied Athenians, 
 but raised fortifications across the Isthmus from 
 sea to sea : thus guarding against the incursions 
 of the Thracians who were spread about the 
 Chersonesusj and putting an end to those long 
 and grievous wars under which that district had 
 smarted, by reason of the neighbourhood of the 
 barbarians, as well as to the robberies with which 
 it had been infested by persons who lived upon 
 the borders, or were inhabitants of the country. 
 But the expedition most celebrated among 
 strangers, was that by sea around Peloponnesus, 
 He set sail from Pegse in the territories of Megara 
 with po ships of war, and not only ravaged the 
 maritime cities, as Tolmides had done before 
 him, but landed his forces and penetrated a good 
 way up the country. The terror of his arms 
 drove the inhabitants into their walled towns, all 
 but the Sicyonians, who made head against him 
 at Memea, and were defeated in a pitched battle ; 
 in memory of which victory he erected a trophy. 
 From Achaia, a confederate state, he took a 
 number of men into his galleys, and sailed to the 
 opposite side of the continent; then passing by 
 the mouth of the Achelous, he made a descent in 
 Acarnania, shut up the Oeneadse within their 
 walls, and having laid waste the country, re- 
 turned home. In the whole course of this affair, 
 he appeared terrible to his enemies, and to his 
 countrymen an active and prudent commander ; 
 for no miscarriage was committed, nor did even 
 any unfortunate accident happen during the whole 
 time. 
 
 Having sailed to Pontus with a large and well- 
 equipped fleet, he procured the Grecian cities 
 there all the advantages they desired, and treated 
 them with great regard. To the barbarous 
 nations^ that surrounded them, and to their kings 
 and princes, he made the power of Athens very 
 respectable, by showing with what security her 
 fleets could sail, and that she was in effect 
 mistress of the seas. He left the people of Sinope 
 thirteen ships under the command of Lamachus, 
 and a body of men to act against Timesileos their 
 tyrant. And w'hen the tyrant and his party were 
 driven out, he caused a decree to be made, that a 
 colony of 600 Athenian volunteers should be 
 placed in Sinope, and put in possession of those 
 houses and lands which had belonged to the 
 tyrants. 
 
 Pie did not, however, give way to the wild 
 desires of the citizens, nor would he indulge 
 them, when, elated v/ith their strength and good 
 fortune, they talked of recovering Egypt,* and of 
 
 * For the Athenians had been masters of 
 Egypt, as we find in the second book of Thucy- 
 dides. They were driven out of it by Megabyzus, 
 Artaxerxes’s lieutenant, in the first year of the 
 eightieth olympiad, and it was only in the last 
 year of the eighty-first olympiad that Pericles 
 made that successful expedition about Pelo- 
 ponnesus ; therefore it is not strange that the 
 Athenians, now in the height of prosperity, talked 
 of recovering their footing in a country which 
 they had so lately lost. 
 
 attempting the coast of Persia. Many were like- 
 wise at this time possessed with the unfortunate 
 passion for Sicily, which the orators of Alcibiades’s 
 party afterwards inflamed still more. Nay, some 
 even dreamed of Hetruria'* and Carthage, and 
 not without some ground of hope, as they 
 imagined, because of the great extent of their 
 dominions, and the successful course of their 
 affairs. 
 
 ^ But Pericles restrained this impetuosity of the 
 citizens, and curbed their extravagant desire of 
 conquest ; employing the greatest part of their 
 forces in strengthening and securing their present 
 acquisitions, and considering it as a matter of 
 consequence to keep the Lacedaemonians within 
 bounds ; whom he therefore opposed, as on other 
 occasions, so particularly in the sacred war. For 
 when the Lacedaemonians, by dint of arms, had 
 restored the temple to the citizens of Delphi, 
 which had been seized by the Phocians, Pericles, 
 immediately after the departure of the Lacedae- 
 monians, marched thither, and put it into the 
 hands of the Phocians again. And as the 
 Lacedaemonians had engraved on the forehead of 
 the brazen wolf the privilege which the people of 
 Delphi had granted them of consulting the oracle 
 first, t Pericles caused the same privilege for the 
 Athenians, to be inscribed on the wolf’s right side. 
 
 The event showed, that he was right in con- 
 fining the Athenian forces to act within the bounds 
 of Greece. For, in the first place, the Euboeans 
 revolted, and he led an army against them. Soon 
 after, news was brought that Megara had 
 commenced hostilities, and that the Lacedte- 
 monian forces, under the command of king 
 Plistonax, were upon the borders of Attica. The 
 enemy offered him battle : he did not choose, 
 however, to risk an engagement with so numerous 
 and resolute an army. But as Plistonax was 
 very young, and chiefly directed by Cleandrides, 
 a counsellor whom the Ephori had appointed him 
 on account of his tender age, he attempted to 
 bribe that counsellor, and succeeding in it to his 
 wish, persuaded him to draw off the Pelopon- 
 nesians from Attica. The soldiers dispersing and 
 retiring to their respective homes, the Lacedm- 
 monians were so highly incensed, that they laid a 
 heavy fine upon the king, and as he was not able 
 to pay it, he withdrew from Lacedaemon. As for 
 Cleandrides, who fled from justice, they con- 
 demned him to death. He was the father of 
 Gylippus, who defeated the Athenians in Sicily, 
 and who seemed to have derived the vice of 
 avarice from him as an hereditary distemper. 
 He was led by it into bad practices, for which he 
 was banished with ignominy from Sparta, as we 
 have related in the life of Lysander. 
 
 * Hetruria seems oddly joined with Carthage ; 
 but we rnay consider that Hetruria was on one 
 side of Sicily, and Carthage on the other. The 
 Athenians, therefore, after they had devoured 
 SicUy in their thoughts, might think of extending 
 their conquests to the countries on the right and 
 left ; in the same manner as king Pyrrhus in- 
 dulged his wild ambition to subdue Sicily, Italy, 
 and Africa. 
 
 t This wolf is said to have been consecrated 
 and placed by the side of the great altar, on 
 occasion of a wolfs killing a thief who had robbed 
 the temple, and leading the Delphians to the 
 place where the treasure lay. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 123 
 
 In the accounts for this campaign, Pericles put 
 down ten talents laid our for a necessary zcse, and 
 the people allowed it, without examining the 
 matter closely, or prying into the secret. Accord- 
 ing to some writers, and among the rest Theo- 
 phrastus the philosopher, Pericles sent ten talents 
 every year to Sparta, with which he gained all 
 the magistracy, and kept them from acts of 
 hostility; not that he purchased peace with the 
 money, but only gained time, that he might have 
 leisure to make preparations to carry on the war 
 afterwards with advantage. 
 
 Immediately after the retreat of the Lacedae- 
 monians, he turned his arms against the revolters, 
 and passing over into Euboea with fifty_ ships and 
 five thousand men, he reduced the cities. He 
 expelled the Hippobotce^ persons distinguished by 
 their opulence and authority among the Chal- 
 cidians ; and having exterminated all the Hes- 
 tiaeans, he gave their city to a colony of Athe- 
 nians. The cause of this severity was their 
 having taking an Athenian ship, and murdered 
 the whole crew. 
 
 Soon after this, the Athenians and Lacedemo- 
 nians having agreed upon a truce for thirty years, 
 Pericles caused a decree to be made for an ex- 
 pedition against Samos. The pretence he made 
 use of was, that the Samians, when commanded 
 to put an end to the war with the Milesians, had 
 refused it. But as he seems to have entered upon 
 this war merely to gratify Aspasia, it may not 
 be amiss to inquire by what art or power she 
 captivated the greatest statesmen, and brought 
 even philosophers to speak of her so much to her 
 advantage. 
 
 It is agreed that she was by birth a Milesian,* 
 and the daughter of Axiochus. She is reported 
 to have trod in the steps of Thargelia,t who was 
 descended from^ the ancient lonians, and to have 
 reserved her intimacies for the great. This 
 Thargelia, who to the charms of her person added 
 a peculiar politeness and poignant wit, had many 
 lovers among the Greeks, and drew over to the 
 king of Persia’s interest all that approached 
 her ; by whose means, as they were persons 
 of eminence and authority, she sov/ed the seeds 
 of the Median faction among the Grecian 
 states. 
 
 Some, indeed, say that Pericles made his court 
 to Aspasia only on acount of her wisdom and 
 political abilities. Nay, even Socrates himself 
 sometimes visited her along with his friends ; and 
 her acquaintance took their wives with them to 
 hear her discourse, though the business that 
 supported her was neither honourable nor decent, 
 for she kept a number of courtesans in her house, 
 .^schines informs us that Lysicles, who was a 
 grazier, !; and of a mean ungenerous disposition, 
 by his intercourse with Aspasia after the death 
 of Pericles, became the most considerable man in 
 Athens. And though Plato’s Menexenus in the 
 beginning is rather humorous than serious, yet 
 thus much of history we may gather from it, that 
 
 * Miletum, a city in Ionia, was famous for 
 producing persons of extraordinary abilities. 
 
 t This Thargelia, by her beauty, obtained 
 the sovereignty of Thessaly. However, she came 
 to an untimely end ; for she was murdered by one 
 of her lovers. 
 
 I _What the employments were to which this 
 Lysicles was advanced, is nowhere recorded. 
 
 many Athenians resorted to her on account of her 
 skill in the art of speaking.* 
 
 I should not, however, think that the attach- 
 ment of Pericles was of so very delicate a kind. 
 For, though his wife, who was his relation, and 
 had been first married to Hipponicus, by whom 
 she had Callias the rich, brought him two sons, 
 Xanthippus and Paralus, yet they lived so ill 
 together that they parted by consent. She was 
 married to another, and he took Aspasia, for whom 
 he had the tenderest regard ; insomuch that he 
 never went out upon business, or returned, with- 
 out saluting her. In the comedies she is called 
 the New Omphale^ Deianira^ and Juno, Cra- 
 tiiius plainly calls her a prostitute : 
 
 She bore this Jimo^ this Aspasia^ 
 
 Skill’d in the shameless trade and ever}'- art 
 
 Of wantonness. 
 
 He seems also to have had a natural son by 
 her; for he is introduced by Eupolis inquiring 
 after him thus : 
 
 Still lives the offspring of m,y dalliance ? 
 Pyronides answers — 
 
 He lives, and might have borne the name 
 of husband. 
 
 Did he not dream that every bosom fair. 
 
 Is not a chaste one. 
 
 Such was the fame of Aspasia, that Cyrus, who 
 contended with Artaxerxes for the Persian crown, 
 gave the name of Aspasia to his favourite concu- 
 bine, who before was called Milto. This woman 
 was born in Phocis, and was the daughter of 
 Hermotimus. When Cyrus was slain in the 
 battle, she was carried to the king, and had 
 afterwards great influence over him. These 
 particulars occurring to my memory as I wrote 
 this life, I thought it would be a needless affecta- 
 tion of gravity, if not an offence against polite- 
 ness, to pass them over in silence. 
 
 I now return to the Samian war, which Peri- 
 cles is much blamed for having promoted, in 
 favour of the Milesians, at the instigation of 
 Aspasia. The Milesians, and Samians had been 
 at war for the city of Priene, and the Samians 
 had the advantage, when the Athenians inter- 
 posed, and ordered them to lay down their arms, 
 and refer the decision of the dispute to them : 
 but the Samians refused to comply with this 
 demand. Pericles, therefore, sailed with a fleet 
 to Samos, and abolished the oligarchical form of 
 government. He then took fifty of the principal 
 men, and the sam.e number of children, as 
 hostages, and sent them to Lemnos. Each of 
 these hostages, we are told, offered him a talent 
 for his ransom ; and those that were desirous to 
 
 * It is not to be imagined, that Aspasia excelled 
 in light and amorous discourses. Her dis- 
 courses, on the contrary, were not more brilliant 
 than solid. It was even believed by the most 
 intelligent Athenians, and amongst them by 
 Socrates himself, that she composed the celebrated 
 funeral oration pronounced by Pericles, in honour 
 of those that were slain in the Samian war. It 
 is probable enough, that Pericles undertook that 
 war to avenge the quarrel of the Milesians, at 
 the suggestion of Aspasia, who was of Miletum ; 
 who is said to have accompanied him in that 
 expedition, and to have built a temple to per- 
 petuate the memory of his victory. 
 
124 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 prevent the settling of a democracy among them 
 would have given him much more. Pisuthnes 
 the Persian, who had the interest of the Samians 
 at heart, likewise sent him 10,000 pieces of gold, 
 to prevail upon him to grant them more favour- 
 able terms, Pericles, however, would receive 
 none of their presents, but treated the Samians 
 in the manner he had resolved on ; and having 
 established a popular government in the island, 
 he returned to Athens. 
 
 But they soon revolted again, having recovered 
 their hostages by some private measure of Pi- 
 suthnes, and made new preparations for war. 
 Pericles coming with a fleet to reduce theni once 
 more, found them not in a posture of negligence 
 or despair, but determined to contend with him 
 for the dominion of the sea. A. sharp engage- 
 ment ensued near the isle of Tragia, and Pericles 
 gained a glorious victor3% having with forty-four 
 ships defeated seventy, twenty of which had 
 soldiers on board. 
 
 Pursuing his victory, he possessed himself of 
 the harbour of Samos, and laid siege to the city. 
 They still retained courage enough to sally out 
 and give him battle before the walls. Soon after 
 a greater fleet came from Athens, and the Samians 
 were entirely shut up ; whereupon, Pericles took 
 sixty galleys, and steered for the Mediterranean, 
 with a design, as is generally supposed, to meet 
 the Phoenician fleet that was coming to the relief 
 of Samos, and to engage with it at a great dis- 
 tance from the island. 
 
 Stesimbrotus, indeed, says, he intended to sail 
 for Cyprus, which is very improbable. But 
 whatever his design was, he seems to have com- 
 mitted an error. For, as soon as he was gone, 
 Melissus, the son of Ithageiies, a man distin- 
 guished as a philosopher, and_ at that time 
 commander of the Samians, despising either the 
 small number of ships that was left, or else the 
 inexperience of their officers, persuaded his 
 countrymen to attack the Athenians. Accord- 
 ingly, a battle was fought, and the Samians 
 obtained the victory ; for they made many 
 prisoners, destroyed the greatest part of the 
 enemy's fleet, cleared the seas, and_ imported 
 whatever warlike stores and provisions they 
 wanted. Aristotle writes, that Pericles himself 
 had been beaten by the same Melissus, in a former 
 sea-fight. 
 
 The Samians returned upon the Athenian pri- 
 soners the insult they had received, marked their 
 foreheads with the figure of an owl, as the Athe- 
 nians had branded them with a SamcBna^ which 
 is a kind of ship built low in the forepart, and wide 
 and hollow in the sides. This form makes it light 
 and expeditious in sailing ; and it was called 
 Samcs'ua, from its being invented in Samos by 
 Polycrates the tyrant. Aristophanes is supposed 
 to have hinted at these marks, when he says — 
 The Samians are a lettered race. 
 
 As soon as Pericles was informed of the misfor- 
 tune that had befallen his army, he immediately 
 returned with succours, t gave Melissus battle, 
 
 * Pisuthnes, the son of Hystaspes, was gover- 
 nor of Sardis, and espoused the cause of the 
 Samians of course, because the principal persons 
 among them were in the Persian interest. 
 
 t On his return, he received a reinforcement of 
 fourscore ships, as Thucydides tells us ; or ninety, 
 according to Diodorus. 
 
 routed the enemy, and blocked up the town by 
 building a wall about it ; choosing to owe the 
 conquest of it rather to time and expense, than to 
 purchase it with the blood of his fellow-citizens. 
 But when he found the Athenians murmured at 
 the time spent in the blockade, and that it was 
 difficult to restrain them from the assault, he 
 divided the army into eight parts, and ordered 
 them to draw lots. That division which drew a 
 white bean, were to enjoy themselves in ease and 
 pleasure while the others fought. Hence it is 
 said, that those who spend the day in feasting and 
 merriment, call that a 'white day from the 'white 
 bean. 
 
 Ephorus adds, that Pericles in this siege made 
 use of battering engines, the invention of which 
 he much admired, it being then a new one ; and 
 that he had Artemon the engineer along with 
 him, who, on account of his lameness, was carried 
 about in a litter, when his presence was required 
 to direct the machines, and thence had the sur- 
 name of Periphoretus. But Heraclides of Pontus 
 confutes this assertion by some verses of Anacreon, 
 in which mention is made of Artemon Periphore- 
 tus several ages before the Samian war and these 
 transactions of Pericles. And he tells us, this 
 Artemon was a person who gave himself up to 
 luxury, and was withal of a timid and effeminate 
 spirit ; that he spent most of his time within doors, 
 and had a shield of brass held over his head by 
 a couple of slaves, lest something should fall upon 
 him. Moreover, that if he happened to be neces- 
 sarily obliged to go abroad, he was carried in a 
 litter, which hung so low as almost to touch the 
 ground, and therefore was called Periphorettis. 
 
 After nine months the Samians surrendered. 
 Pericles razed their walls, seized their ships, and 
 laid a heavy fine upon them ; part of which they 
 paid down directly, the rest they promised at a 
 set time, and gave hostages for the payment. 
 Duris the Samian makes a melancholy tale of it, 
 accusing Pericles and the Athenians of great 
 cruelty, of which no mention is made by Thucy- 
 dides, Ephorus, or Aristotle. What he relates 
 concerning the Samian officers and seamen seems 
 quite fictitious ; he tells us, that Pericles caused 
 them to be brought into the market-place at 
 Miletus, and to be bound to posts there for ten 
 days together, at the end of which he ordered 
 them, by that time in the most wretched condition, 
 to be despatched with clubs, and refused their 
 bodies the honour of burial. Duris, indeed, in 
 his Histories, often goes beyond the limits of 
 truth, even when not misled by any interest or 
 passion ; and therefore is more likely to have 
 exaggerated the suflferings of his country, to make 
 the Athenians appear in an odious light.* 
 
 Pericles, at his return to Athens, after the re- 
 duction of Samos, celebrated in a splendid manner 
 the obsequies of his countrymen who fell in 
 that war, and pronounced himself the funeral 
 oration usual on such occasions. This gained 
 him great applause : and, when he came down 
 from the rostrum, the women paid their respects 
 to him, and presented him with crowns and 
 chaplets, like a champion just returned victorious 
 from tjie lists. Only Elpinice addressed him in 
 terms quite different: “Are these actions, then, 
 
 * Yet Cicero tells us, this Duris was a careful 
 historian, Homo in historia diligens. ^ This his- 
 torian lived in the times of Ptolemy Philadelphus. 
 
PERICLES. 125 
 
 Pericles, worthy of ctowtis and g^lands, which 
 have deprived us of many brave citizens ; not in 
 a war with the Phcenicians and Medes, such as 
 my brother Cimon waged, but in destroying a 
 city united to us both in blood and fidendship ? 
 Pericles only smiled, and answered softly with 
 this line of Archilochus — 
 
 Why lavish ointments on a head that’s gray ? 
 
 Ion informs us, that he was highly elated with 
 this conquest, and scrupled not to say, that 
 Agamemnon spent ten years in reducing one of the 
 cities of the barbarians, whereas he had taken 
 the richest and most powerful city among the 
 lonians m nine months. And indeed he had 
 reason to be proud of this achievement ; for the 
 war was really a dangerous one, and the event 
 uncertain ; since, according to Thucydides, such 
 was the power of the Samians, that the Athenians 
 were in imminent danger of losing the dominion 
 of the sea. 
 
 Some time after this, when the Peloponnesian 
 war was ready to break out, Pericles persuaded 
 the people to send succours to the inhabitants of 
 Corcyra, who were at war writh the Corinthians ; * 
 which would be a means to fix in their interest an 
 island whose naval forces were considerable, and 
 might be of great service in case of a rupture with 
 the Peloponnesians, which they had all the reason 
 in the world to expect would be soon. The suc- 
 coiurs were decreed accordingly, and Pericles sent 
 Lacedaemonius, the son of Cunon, with ten ships 
 only, as if he designed nothing more than to dis- 
 grace him.t A mutual regard and friendship 
 subsisted betw^een Cimon’s family and the Spar- 
 tans; and he now furnished his son with but a 
 few ships, and gave him the charge of this attair 
 against his inclination, in order that, if nothmg 
 great or striking were effected, Lacedaemonius 
 might be still the more suspected of favouring 
 the Spartans. Nay, by all imaginable methods 
 he endeavoured to hinder the advancement of 
 that family, representing the sons of Cimon, as 
 by their very names not genuine Athenians, but 
 strangers and aliens, one of them being called 
 Lacedaemonius, another Thessalus, and a third 
 Eleus. They seem to have been aiU the sons of 
 an Arcadian woman. Pericles, however, finding 
 himself greatly blamed about these ten galleys, 
 an aid by no means sufficient to answer the 
 purpose of those that requested it, but likely 
 enough to afford his enemies a pretence to accuse 
 him, sent another squadron to Corcjura^t which 
 did not arrive till the action was over. 
 
 The Corinthians, offended at this treatment, 
 complained of it at Lacedaemon ; and the Mega- 
 rensians at the same time alleged, that the Athe- 
 nians would not suffer them to corns to any mart 
 or port of theirs, but drove them out, thereby 
 
 infringing the common privileges, and breaking 
 the oath they had taken before the general 
 assembly of Greece. The people of yEgina, too, 
 privately acquainted the Lacedaemonians with 
 many encroachments and injuries done them by 
 the Athenians, whom they durst not accuse openly. 
 And at this very juncture, Potidaea, a Corinthian 
 colony, but subject to the Athenians, being be- 
 sieged in consequence of its revolt, hastened on 
 the war. 
 
 However, as ambassadors were sent to Athens, 
 and as Archidamus, king of the Lacedaemonians, 
 endeavoured to give a healing turn to most of the 
 articles in question, and to pacify the allies, pro- 
 bably no other point would have involved the 
 Athenians in war, if they could have been per- 
 suaded to rescind the decree against the Z\Iega- 
 rensians, and to be reconciled to them. Pericles, 
 therefore, in exerting all his interest to oppose 
 this measure, in retaining his enmity to the Mega- 
 rensians, and working up the people to the .same 
 rancour, was the sole author of the war. 
 
 It is said, that when the ambassadors from 
 Lacedsemon came upon this occasion to Athens,* j 
 Pericles pretended there was a law which forbade j 
 the taking down any tablet on which a decree of i 
 the people was written. ‘'Then,” said Polyarces, | 
 one of the ambassadors, “do not take it down, j 
 but turn the other side outward ; there is no law | 
 against that” Notwithstanding the pleasantry' | 
 of this answer, Pericles relented not in the least. 
 He seems, indeed, to have had some private | 
 pique against the Megarensians, though the ! 
 pretext he availed himself of in public was, that 
 they had applied to profane uses certain parcels 
 of sacred ground ; and thereupon he procured a 
 decree for a herald to be sent to Megara and 
 Lacedaemon to lay this charge against the Mega- 
 rensians. This decree was dra\sTi up in a candid 
 and conciliating manner. But Anthemocntus, 
 the herald sent with that commission, losing his ' 
 life by the way, through some treachery (as was j 
 supposed) of the Megarensians, Charinus pro- j 
 
 * The Lacedaemonian ambassadors demanded, 1 
 in the first place, the expulsion of those Athenians j 
 who were styled e-xecrable, oh account of the old ! 
 business of Cylon and his associates, because by | 
 his mother's side Pericles was allied to the family 
 of iSIegacles ; they next insisted that the siege of 
 Potidaea should be raised ; thirdly, that the in- = 
 habitants of .^gina should be left free ; and 
 lastly, that the decree made against the ^lega- 
 rensians, whereby they were forbidden the ports 
 and markets of Athens on pain of death, should 
 be revoked, and the Grecian states set at liberty*, 
 who were under the dominion of Athens. 
 
 Pericles represented to the Athenians, that, 
 v/hatever the Lacedaemonians might pretend, the 
 true ground of their resentment was the prosperity 
 of the Athenian republic : that, nevertheless, it 
 might be proposed, that the Athenians would 
 reverse their decree against Megara, if the Lace- , 
 daemonians would allow free egress and regress j 
 in their city to the Athenians and their allies ; j 
 that they would leave all those states free, who j 
 were free at the making of the last peace with { 
 Sparta, provided the Spartans would also leave ' 
 all states free who were under their dominion; 
 and t^t future disputes should be submitted to 
 arbitration. _ In case these offers should not pre- j 
 i vail, he advised them to hazard a war. ' 
 
 * This war was commenced about the little 
 territory of Epidamnum, a city in Macedonia, 
 founded by the Corcyrians. 
 
 t There seems to be very little colour for this 
 hard assertion. Thucydides says, that the Athe- 
 nians did not intend the Corcyrians any real 
 assistance, but sent this small squadron to look on, 
 while the Corinthians and Corcyrians weakened 
 and wasted each other. 
 
 X But this fleet, which consisted of twenty 
 ships, prevented a second engagement, for which 
 they were preparing. 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 126 
 
 cured a decree, that an implacable and an eternal 
 enmity should subsist between the Athenians and 
 them ; that if any Megarensian should set foot 
 on Attic ground, he should be put to death ; that 
 to the oath which their generals used to take, 
 this particular should be added, that they would 
 twice a year make an inroad into the territories 
 of Megara ; and that Anthemocritus should be 
 buried at the Thriasian gate, now called Dipyhis. 
 
 The Megarensians, however, deny their being 
 concerned in the murder of Anthemocritus,* * * * § and 
 lay the war entirely at the door of Aspasia and 
 Pericles ; alleging in proof those well-known 
 verses from the Achar 7 tensis of Aristophanes : 
 
 The god of wine had with his Thyrsus smote 
 Some youths, who in their ma:dness stole from 
 Megara 
 
 The prostitute Shnestha : in revenge 
 
 Two females, liberal of their smiles, were stolen 
 
 From our Aspasia' s train. 
 
 It is not, indeed, easy to discover what was the 
 real origin of the war ; but at the same time all 
 agree, it was the fault of Pericles that the decree 
 against Megara was not annulled. Some say, his 
 firmness in that case was the effect of his prudence 
 and magnanimity, as he considered that demand 
 only as a trial, and thought the least concession 
 would be understood as an acknowledgment of 
 weakness : but others will have it, that his treating 
 the Laced-emonians with so little ceremony, was 
 owing to his obstinacy, and an ambition to display 
 his power. 
 
 But the worst cause of all f assigned for the war, 
 and which, notwithstanding, is confirmed by most 
 historians, is as follows : Phidias the statuary 
 had undertaken (as we have said) the statue of 
 Minerva.^ The friendship and influence he had 
 with Pericles exposed him to envy, and procured 
 hirn many enemies, who willing to make an ex- 
 periment upon him, what judgment the people 
 might pass on Pericles himself, persuaded Menon, 
 one of Phidias’s workmen, to place himself as a 
 suppliant in the forum, and to entreat the pro- 
 tection of the republic while he lodged an informa- 
 tion against Phidias. 
 
 The people granting his request, and the affair 
 coming to a public trial, the allegation of theft, 
 which Menon brought against him, was shown to 
 be groundless. For Phidias, by the advice of 
 Pericles, had managed the matter from the first 
 with so much art, that the gold with which the 
 statue was overlaid could easily be taken off and 
 weighed : and Pericles ordered this to be done 
 by the accusers. But the excellence of his work, 
 and the envy arising thence, was the thing that 
 ruined Phidias ; and it was^ particularly insisted 
 upon, that in his representation of the battle with 
 the Amazons upon Minerva’s shield, he had intro- 
 
 * Thucydides takes no notice of this herald ; 
 and yet it is so certain that the Megarensians 
 were looked upon as the authors of the murder, 
 that they were punished for it many ages after : 
 for on that account the Emperor Adrian denied 
 them many favours and privileges which he 
 granted to the other cities of Greece. 
 
 t Pericles, when he saw his friends prosecuted, 
 was apprehensive of a prosecution himself, and 
 therefore hastened on a rupture with the Pelopon- 
 nesians, to turn the attention of the people to 
 war. 
 
 duced his own effigies as a bald old man taking 
 up_a great stone with both hands,* and a high- 
 finished picture of Pericles fighting with an 
 Amazon. The last was contrived with so much 
 art, that the hand, which, in lifting up the spear, 
 partly covered the face, seemed to be intended to 
 conceal the likeness, which yet was very striking 
 on both sides. Phidias, therefore, was thrown 
 into prison, where he died a natural death ; f 
 though some say, poison was given him by his 
 enemies, who were desirous of causing Pericles 
 to be suspected. As for the accuser Menon, he 
 had an immunity from taxes granted him, at the 
 motion of Glycon, and the generals were ordered 
 to provide for his security. 
 
 About this time Aspasia was prosecuted for 
 impiety, by Hermippus a comic poet, who like- 
 wise accused her of receiving into her house 
 women above the condition of slaves for the 
 pleasure of Pericles. And Diopithes procured a 
 decree, that those who disputed the existence of 
 the gods, or introduced new opinions about 
 celestial appearances, should be tried before an 
 assembly of the people. This charge was levelled 
 first at Anaxagoras, and through him at Pericles. 
 And as the people admitted it, another decree 
 was g^roposed by Dracontides, that Pericles should 
 give an account of the public money before the 
 Prytanes, and that the judges should take the 
 ballots from the altar, J and try the cause in the 
 city. But Agnon caused the last article to be 
 dropped, and instead thereof, it was voted that 
 the action should be laid before the 1500 judges, 
 either for peculatio 7 t, and takmg of bribes, or 
 simply for corrupt practices. 
 
 Aspasia was acquitted, though much against 
 the tenor of the law, by means of Pericles, who 
 (according to .(Eschines) shed many tears in his 
 application for mercy for her. He did not expect 
 the same indulgence for Anaxagoras, § and there- 
 fore caused him to quit the city, and conducted 
 him part of the way. And as he himself was 
 become obnoxious to the people upon Phidias’s 
 account, and was afraid of being called in question 
 
 * They insisted that those modern figures im- 
 peached the credit of the ancient history, v/hich 
 did so much honour to Athens, and their founder 
 Theseus. 
 
 t Others say, that he was banished, and that 
 in his exile he made the famous statue of Jupiter 
 at Olympia. 
 
 J In some extraordinary cases where the judges 
 were to proceed with the greatest exactness and 
 solemnity, they were to take ballots or billets 
 from the altar, and to inscribe their judgment 
 upon them ; or rather to take the black and the 
 white bean. What Plutarch means by try mg the 
 cause m the city, is not easy to determine, unless 
 by the city we are to understand the fiill asse 77 zbly 
 of the people. By the 1500 judges mentioned in 
 the next sentence, is probably meant the court of 
 Helicea, so called because the judges sat in the 
 open air exposed to the sun ; for this court on 
 extraordinary occasions consisted of that number, 
 
 § Anaxagoras held the unity of God, — that it 
 was one all-wise Intelligence which raised the 
 beautiful structure of the world out of the Chaos. 
 And if such was the opinion of the master, it 
 was natural for the people^ to conclude, that 
 his scholar Pericles was against the Polytheism 
 of the times. 
 
PERICLES. 127 
 
 for it, he urged on the war, which as yet was un- 
 certain, and blew up that flame which, till then, 
 was stifled and suppressed. By this means he 
 hoped to obviate the accusations that threatened 
 him,* and to mitigate the rage of envy, because 
 such was his dignity and power, that in all im- 
 portant affairs, and in every great danger, the 
 republic could place its confidence in him alone. 
 These are said to be the reasons which induced 
 him to persuade the people not to grant the de- 
 mands of the Lacedsemonians : but what was the 
 real cause is quite uncertain. 
 
 The Lacedsemonians, persuaded, that if they 
 could remove Pericles out of the way, they should 
 be better able to manage the Athenians, required 
 them to banish all execrable persons from among 
 them : and Pericles (as Thucydides informs us) 
 was by his mother’s side related to those that 
 were pronounced execrable, in the affair of Cylon. 
 The success, however, of this application proved 
 the reverse of what was expected by those that 
 ordered it. Instead of rendering Pericles sus- 
 pected, or involving him in trouble, it procured 
 him the more confidence and respect from the 
 people, when they perceived that their enemies 
 both hated and dreaded him above all others. 
 For the same reason he forewarned the Athenians, 
 that if Archidamus, when he entered Attica at the 
 head of the Peloponnesians, and ravaged the rest 
 of the country, should spare his estate, it must be 
 owing either to the rights of hospitality that sub- 
 sisted. between them, or to a design to furnish his 
 enemies with matter of slander ; and therefore 
 from that hour he gave his lands and houses to 
 the city of Athens. The Lacedsemonians and 
 confederates accordingly invaded Attica with a 
 great army under the conduct of Archidamus ; 
 and laying waste all before them, proceeded as 
 far as Acharnse,* where they encamped, expecting 
 that the Athenians would not be able to endure 
 them so near, but meet them in the field for the 
 honour and safety of their country. But it ap- 
 peared to Pericles too hazardous to give battle to 
 an army of 60,000 men (for such was the number 
 of the Peloponnesians and Boeotians employed in 
 the first expedition), and by that step to risk no 
 less than the preservation of the city itself. As to 
 those that were eager for an engagement, and 
 uneasy at his slow proceedings, he endeavoured to 
 bring them to reason by observing, that trees, 
 when lopped, will soon grow again ; but when 
 men are cut off, the loss is not easily repaired. 
 
 In the mean time he took care to hold no as- 
 sembly of the people, lest he should be forced to 
 act against his own opinion. But as a good pilot, 
 when a storm arises at sea, gives his directions, 
 gets his tackle in order, and then uses his art, 
 regardless of the tears and entreaties of the sick 
 and fearful passengers ; so Pericles, when he had 
 secured the gates, and placed the guards in every 
 quarter to the best advantage, followed the dic- 
 tates of his own understanding, unmoved by the 
 clamours and complaints that resounded in his 
 ears. Thus firm he remained, notwithstanding 
 the importunity of his friends^ and the threats and 
 accusations of his enemies ; notwithstanding the 
 many scoffs, and songs sung, to vilify his character 
 as a general, and to represent him as one who, in 
 the most dastardly manner, betrayed his country 
 
 to the enemy. Cleon,^ too, attacked him with 
 great acrimony, niaking use of the general resent- 
 ment against Pericles, as a means to increase his 
 own popularity, as Hermippus testifies in these 
 verses ; 
 
 Sleeps then, thou king of satyrs, sleeps the spear. 
 While thundering words make war? why boast 
 thy prowess. 
 
 Yet shudder at the sound of sharpened sv/ords. 
 Spite of the flaming Cleon ? 
 
 Pericles, however, regarded nothing of this kind, 
 but calmly and silently bore all this disgrace and 
 virulence. And though he fitted out 100 ships, 
 and sent them against Peloponnesus, yet he did 
 not sail with them, but chose to stay and watch 
 over the city, and keep the reins of government 
 in his ov/n hands, until the Peloponnesians were 
 gone. In order to satisfy the common people, 
 who were very uneasy on account of the war, he 
 made a distribution of money and lands : for 
 haying expelled the inhabitants of Atgina, he 
 divided the island by lot among the Athenians. 
 Besides, the sufferings of the enemy afforded them 
 some consolation. The fleet sent against Pelo- 
 ponnesus ravaged a large tract of country, and 
 sacked the small towns and villages : and Pericles 
 himself made a descent upon the territories of 
 Megara,t which he laid waste. Whence it ap- 
 pears, that though the Peloponnesians greatly dis- 
 tressed the Athenians by land, yet, as they were 
 equally distressed by sea, they could not have 
 drawn oiTt the war to so great a length, but must 
 soon have given it up (as Pericles foretold from 
 the beginning), had not some divine power pre- 
 vented the effect of human counsels. A pestilence 
 at that time broke out,t which destroyed the 
 flower of the youth and the strength of Athens. 
 And not only their bodies, but their very minds 
 were affected : for, as persons delirious with a 
 fever set themselves against a physician or a 
 father, so_ they raved against Pericles, and at- 
 tem.pted his ruin ; being persuaded by his enemies, 
 that the sickness was occasioned by the multitude 
 of out-dwellers flocking into the city, and a number 
 of people stuffed together, in the height of 
 summer, in small huts and close cabins, where 
 they were forced to live a lazy inactive life, in- 
 stead of breathing the pure and open air to which 
 they had been accustomed. They would needs 
 have it, that he was the cause of all this, who*, 
 when the war began, admitted within the walls 
 such crowds of people from the country, and yet 
 found no employment for them, but let them con- 
 tinue penned up like cattle, to infect and destroy 
 each other, without affording them the least relief 
 or refreshment. 
 
 Desirous to remedy this calamity, and withal 
 
 * The same Cleon that Aristophanes satirized. 
 By his harangues and political inti-igues, he got 
 himself appointed general. 
 
 t He did not undertake this expedition until 
 autumn, when the Lacedsemonians were retired. 
 In the winter of this year the Athenians solemnized 
 in an extraordinary manner the funerals of such 
 as first died in the war. Pericles pronounced the 
 oration on that occasion, which Thucydides has 
 preserved. 
 
 t See this plague excellently described by 
 Thucydides, who had it himself. Lib. ii. prop, 
 init. 
 
 * The borough of Acharnse was only 1500 
 paces from the city. 
 
128 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 in some degree to annoy the enemy, he manned 
 150 ships, on which he embarked great numbers 
 of select horse and foot, and was preparing to set 
 sail. The Athenians conceived good hopes of 
 success, and the enemy no less dreaded so great 
 an armament. The whole fleet was in readiness, 
 and Pericles on board his own galley, when there 
 happened an eclipse of the sun. The sudden 
 darkness was looked upon as an unfavourable 
 omen, and threw them into the greatest consterna- 
 tion. Pericles observing that the pilot was much 
 astonished and perplexed, took his cloak, ^ and 
 having covered his eyes with it, asked him, if he 
 found any thing terrible in that, or considered it 
 as a sad presage ; upon his answering in the 
 negative, he said, “ Where is the difference, then, 
 between this and the other, except that something 
 b gger than my cloak causes the eclipse?” But 
 this is a question which is discussed in the schools 
 of philosophy. 
 
 In this expedition Pericles performed nothing 
 worthy of so great an equipment. He laid siege 
 to the sacred city of Epidaurus,* and at first with 
 some rational hopes of success ; but the distemper 
 which prevailed in his army broke all his 
 measures : for it not only carried off his own 
 
 men, but ail that had intercourse with them. As 
 this ill success set the Athenians against him, he 
 endeavoured to console them under their losses, 
 and to animate them to new attempts. But it 
 was not in his power to mitigate their resentment, 
 nor could they be satisfied, until they had showed 
 themselves masters, by voting that he should be 
 deprived of the command, and pay a fine, which, 
 by the lowest account, was fifteen talents ; some 
 make it fifty. The person that carried on the 
 prosecution against him, was Cleon, as Idomeneus 
 tells us ; or, according to Theophrastus, Simmias ; 
 or Lacratides, if we believe Heraclides of Pontus. 
 
 The public ferment, indeed, soon subsided ; the 
 people quitting their resentment with that blow, 
 as a bee leaves its sting in the wound : but his 
 private affairs were in a miserable condition, for 
 he had lost a number of his relations in the plague, 
 and a misunderstanding had prevailed for some 
 time in his family. Xanthippus, the eldest of his 
 legitimate sons, was naturally profuse, and be- 
 sides had married a young and expensive wife, 
 daughter to Isander, and grand-daughter to 
 Epylicus. He knew not how to brook his father’s 
 frugality, who supplied him but sparingly, and 
 with a little at a time, and therefore sent to one 
 of his friends, and took up money in the name of 
 Pericles. When the man came to demand his 
 money, Pericles not only refused to pay him, 
 but even prosecuted him for the demand. Xan- 
 thippus was so highly enraged at this, that he 
 began openly to abuse his father. First, he 
 exposed and ridiculed the company he kept in 
 his house, and the conversations he held with the 
 philosophers. He said, that Epitimius the 
 Pharsalian having undesignedly killed^ a horse 
 with a javelin which he threw at_ the public games, 
 his father spent a whole day in disputing with 
 Protagorus which might be properly deemed the 
 cause of his death, the javelin, or the man that 
 threw it, or the presidents of the games. Stesim- 
 
 brotus adds, that it was Xanthippus who spread 
 the vile report concerning his own wife and 
 Pericles, and that the young man retained this 
 implacable hatred against his father to his latest 
 breath. He was carried off by the plague. 
 Pericles lost his sister too at that time, and the 
 greatest part of his relations and friends, who 
 were most capable of assisting him in the business 
 of the state. Notwithstanding these misfortunes, 
 he lost not his dignity of sentiment and greatness 
 of soul. ^ He neither wept, nor performed any 
 funeral rites, nor was he seen at the grave of any 
 of his nearest relations, until the death of Paralus, 
 his last surviving legitimate son. This at last 
 subdued him. He attempted, indeed, then to 
 keep up his usual calm behaviour and serenity of 
 mind ; but, in putting the garland upon the head 
 of the deceased, his firmness forsook him ; he 
 could not bear the^ sad spectacle ; he broke out 
 into loud lamentations, and shed a torrent of 
 tears ; a passion which he had never before given 
 way to. 
 
 Athens made a trial, in the course of a year, of 
 the rest of her_ generals and orators, and finding 
 none of sufficient weight and authority for so 
 important a charge, she once more turned her 
 eyes on Pericles, and invited him to take upon 
 hirn the direction of affairs both military and 
 civil. He had for some time shut himself up at 
 home to indulge his sorrow, when Alcibiades, and 
 his other friends, persuaded him to make his 
 appearance. The people making an apology for 
 their ungenerous treatment of him, he re-assumed 
 the reins of government, and being appointed 
 general, his first step was to procure the repeal of 
 the law concerning bastards, of which he himself 
 had been the author ; for he was afraid that his 
 name and family would be extinct for want of a 
 successor. The history of that law is as follows : 
 Many years before, Pericles, in the height of his 
 power, and having several legitimate sons (as we 
 have already related), caused a law to be made, 
 that none should be accounted citizens of Athens, 
 but those whose parents were both Athenians.''^ 
 After this, the king of Egypt made the Athenians 
 a present of 40,000 medimni of wheat, and as this 
 was to be divided among the citizens, many 
 persons were proceeded against as illegitimate upon 
 that law, whose birth had never before been 
 called in question, and many were disgraced upon 
 false accusations. Near 5000 were cast, and sold 
 for slaves ; f and 14,040 appeared to be entitled 
 to the privilege of citizens, f Though it was 
 unequitable and strange,-, that a law, which had 
 been put in execution with so much severity, 
 ‘should be repealed by the man who first proposed 
 it ; yet the Athenians, moved at the late mis- 
 
 * According to Plutarch’s account, at the 
 beginning of the life of Themistocles, this law 
 was made before the time of Pericles. Pericles, 
 however, might put it more strictly in execution 
 than it had been before, from a spirit of opposition ' 
 to Cimon, whose children were' only of the half 
 blood. 
 
 t The illegitimacy did not reduce men to a 
 state of servitude ; it only placed them in the rank 
 of strangers. 
 
 X A small number indeed, at a time when 
 Athens had dared to think of sending out colonies, 
 humbling their neighbours, subduing foreigners, 
 and even of erecting an universal monarchy. 
 
 * This Epidaurus was in Argeia. It was 
 consecrated to Esculapius ; and Plutarch calls it 
 sacred, to distinguish it from another town of the 
 same name in Laconia. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 129 
 
 fortunes m h.s family, by which he seemed to i most honourable part of my character that no 
 have suffered the punishment of his arrogance ; ,4 through my Jeans evTr int on 
 
 and pride, and thinking he should be treated with ; r/rmrr/wy/m” ’ ‘>^trpnton 
 
 Iic^uuuiu uc treaiea wim , rnournifig: 
 
 ^ Undoubtedly deserved admiration not 
 
 tSh? i H natural son m his own | only for the candour and moderation which he 
 
 tribe, and to g've fom his own ^ : ever retained, amidst the distractions oftu^es? 
 
 Zu f 5 , r J «vvn name, inis IS ne ever retained, amidst the distractions of busine<;«; 
 
 set° 4 hrrt'‘Ar<.fn,?s^^‘^ 'h® Peloponnesians in a ’ and the rage of his enemies, but for that noble 
 ea tight at Ar^musae, and was put to death by; sentiment which led him to think it his mn=;t 
 the people, together with his collea-ue.* I ex-nel!enr ' I" J 
 
 vvrt:> JJUL LU ucatii uy ; sentiment which led him to think it his mocr 
 . h-vcellent attainment, never to have given Tay 
 
 About this time Pericles was seized with the to envy or anger, notwithstanding the greatness 
 plague, but not with such acute and continued ■ of his nnwf^r nnr tr. 
 
 — „ aciiicu vvihii me 
 
 plague, but not with such acute and continued 
 symptoms as it generally shows. It was rather a 
 lingering distemper, which with frequent inter- 
 missions, and by slow degrees, consumed his body, 
 and impaired the vigour of his mind. Theo- 
 phrastus has a disquisition in his Ethics, whether 
 men’s characters may be changed with their 
 fortune, and the soul so affected with the dis- 
 orders of the body as to lose her virtue ; and 
 there he relates, that Pericles showed to a friend 
 who pme to visit him in his sickness, an amulet 
 which the women had hung about his neck, 
 intimating that he must be sick indeed, since 
 he submitted to so ridiculous a piece of suner- 
 stition. t 
 
 ^ When he was at the point of death, his surviv- 
 ing friends and the principal citizens sitting about 
 his bed, discoursed together concerning his ex- 
 traordinary virtue, and the great authority he 
 had enjoyed, and enumerated his various exploits 
 and the number of his victories ; for, while he 
 vvas commander in chief, he had erected no less 
 ^an nine trophies to the honour of Athens. 
 These things they talked of, supposing that he 
 attended not to what they said, but that his 
 senses we e gone. He took notice, however, of 
 every word they had spoken, and thereupon 
 delivered himself audibly as follows : “I am 
 surprised, that while you dwell upon and extol 
 these acts of mine, though fortune had her share 
 ^ many other generals have performed 
 
 the like, you take no notice of the greatest and 
 
 The Athenians had appointed ten commanders 
 on that occasion. After they had obtained the 
 victory they were tried, and eight of them' were 
 capitally condemned, of whom six that were on 
 me spot were executed, and this natural son of 
 Pericles was one of them. The only crime laid 
 to their charge, was, that they had not buried the 
 dead. Xenophon, in his Grecian history, has 
 given a large account of this affair. It happened 
 under the archonship of Call as. the second year 
 of the ninety-third olympiad, twenty-four years 
 after the death of Pericles. Socrates the 
 philosopher was at that time one of the Prytanes 
 and resolutejy refused to do his office. And a 
 little whi.e alter, the madness of the people turned 
 the other way. 
 
 t It does not appear by this that his under- 
 ''’fs 'veakened, smee he knew the c/iarvi 
 to be a ridiculous piece of superstition, and 
 
 .1 -- .cixoccvwiaiMg tuc gICclUieSS 
 
 of his power, nor to have nourished an implacable 
 hatred against his greatest foe. In my opinion, 
 this one thing, 1 mean his mild and dispas.sionate 
 behaviour, his unblemished integrity and irre- 
 proachable conduct during his whole administra- 
 tion, makes his appellation of Olympius. which 
 would _otherwi.se be vain and absurd, no longer 
 exceptionable ; nay, gives it a propriety. Thus 
 we think the divine powers, as the authors of ail 
 good, and naturally incapable of producing evil, 
 worthy to rule and preside over the universe! 
 Not in the manner which the poets relate, who 
 while they endeavoured to bewilder us by their 
 irrational opinions, stand convicted of inconsis- 
 tency by their own writing. For they represent 
 the place which the gods inhabit, as the region 
 of security and the most perfect tranquillity, 
 unapproached by storms and unsullied with 
 clouds, where a sweet serenity for ever reigns 
 and a pure eether displays itself without interrup- 
 tion ; and these they think mansions suitable to 
 a blessed and immortal nature. Yet, at the same 
 time, they represent the gods themselves as full 
 of anger, malevolence, hatred, and other pas- 
 sions, unworthy even of a reasonable m an . But 
 this by-the-by. 
 
 The state of public affairs soon showed the 
 want of Pericles,* and the Athenians openly 
 expressed their regret for his loss. Even those', 
 who, in -his lifetime, could but ill brook his 
 superior pow£r, as thinking themselves eclipsed 
 by It, yet upon a trial of other orators and de- 
 ^^SOgues, after he was gone, soon acknowledged 
 that where severity was required, no man was 
 evermore moderate ; or if mildness was necessary, 
 no man better kept up his dignity, than Pericles! 
 And his so much envied authority, to which they 
 had given the name of monarchy and tyranny, 
 then appeared to have been the bulwark of the 
 state. So much corruption and such a rage of 
 wickedness broke out upon the commonwealth 
 after his death, which he by proper restraints had 
 palliated.! and kept from dangerous and destruc- 
 tive extremities ! 
 
 Pericles died in the third year of the Pelo- 
 ponnesian war, that i.s, the last year of the eighty- 
 seventh oIym*piad, and 428 years before the 
 Christian era. 
 
 t Pericles did indeed palliate the distempers 
 of the commonwealth while he lived, but (as we 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS; 
 
 Such were the memorable actions of Pericles, as 
 far as we have been able to collect them ; and 
 now we proceed to the life of Fabius Maximus. 
 
 The first Fabius was the son of Hercules by 
 one of the nymphs, according to some authors ; 
 or, as others say, by a woman of the county, 
 near the river Tiber. From him came the family 
 of the Fabii, one of the most numerous and 
 illustrious in Rome.* Yet some authors write, 
 that the first founders of this family were called 
 Fodii,\ on account of their _ catching wild beasts 
 by means of pits ; for a pit is still in Latin called 
 fovea., and the word fodere signifies to dig : but 
 in time, two letters being changed, they had the 
 name of Fabii. This family produced many 
 eminent men, the most considerable of whom was 
 Rullus,\ by the Romans surnamed Maximus, or 
 the Great, and from him the Fabius Maximus 
 of whom we are writing, was the fourth in 
 descent. 
 
 This last had the surname of Verrucosus, from 
 a small wart on his upper lip. He was likewise 
 called OvicuLa,% from the mildness and gravity 
 of his behaviour when a boy. Nay, his composed 
 demeanour, and his silence, his caution in enga- 
 ging in the diversions of the other boys, the slow- 
 ness and difficulty with which he took what was 
 taught him, together with the submissive manner 
 in which he complied with the proposajs of his 
 comrades, brought him under the suspicion of 
 stupidity and foolishness, with those that did not 
 thoroughly know him. Yet a few there were who 
 perceived that his composedness was owing 
 to the solidity of his parts, and who discerned 
 withal a magnanimity and lion-like courage in 
 his nature. In a short time, when application to 
 business drew him out, it was obvious even to 
 the many, that his seeming inactivity was a 
 command which he had of his passions, that his 
 cautiousness was prudence, and that what had 
 
 passed for heaviness and insensibility, was really 
 an immovable firmness of soul. He saw wha^ 
 an important concern the administration was, and 
 in what wars the republic was frequently en- 
 gaged, and, therefore, by exercise prepared his 
 body, considering its strength as a natural 
 armour; at the same time, he improved his 
 powers of persuasion, as the engines by which 
 the people are to be moved, adapting them to 
 the manner of his life. hor in his eloquence 
 there was nothing of affectation, no empty, 
 plausible elegance, but it was full of that good 
 sense which was peculiar to him, and had a 
 sententious force and depth, said to have re- 
 sembled that of Thucydides. There is an oration 
 of his still extant, which he delivered before the 
 people, on occasion of his son s funeral, who died 
 after he had been consul. 
 
 Fabius Maximus was five times consul ; and 
 in his first consulship was honoured with a triun^h 
 for the victory he gained over the Ligurians ; w Im, 
 being defeated by him in a set battle, wUh the 
 loss of a great number of men, were driven behind 
 the Alps, and kept from such inroads and ravages 
 as they had used to make in the neighbouring 
 
 ^ Some years after, Hannibal, haying invaded 
 Italy t and gained the battle of Trebia, advanced 
 through Tuscany, laying waste the country, and 
 striking Rome itself with terror and astonishment. 
 This desolation was announced by signs and 
 prodigies, some familiar to the Romans, as that 
 of thunder, for instance, and others quite strange 
 and unaccountable. For it was said, that certain 
 shields sweated blood, that bloody corn was cut 
 at Antium, that red-hot stones fell from the air 
 that the Falerians saw the heavens open, and 
 many billets fall,J upon one of which these words 
 
 * The most numerous, for that family alone , 
 undertook the war against the Veientes, and sent 
 out 306 persons of their own name, who were all 
 slain in that expedition. It was likewise one of 
 the most illustrious ; for the Fabii had borne the 
 highest offices in the state, and two of them had 
 been seven times consul. 
 
 t Pliny’s account of the matter is much more 
 probable, viz. that they were called Fabii, a 
 Fabis, from their skill in raising beans ; as several 
 other families of note among the Romans were 
 denominated from other branches of husbandry. 
 Indeed their first heroes tilled the ground with 
 their own hands. 
 
 X This Fabius Ptullus was five times consul, 
 and gained several important victories over the 
 Samnites, Tuscans, and other nations. It was 
 not, however, from these great actions that he 
 obtained the surname of Maximus, but from his 
 behaviour in the censorship ; during which he 
 reduced the populace of Rome into four tribes, 
 who before were dispersed among all the tribes in 
 general, and by that means had very great power 
 in the assemblies. These were called Tnbtis 
 Urbancp. Liv. lib. ix. cap. 46. 
 
 § Ovicula signifies a little sheep. 
 
 * Fabius was consul the first time in the year 
 of Rome 521; and the fifth time in the tenth 
 year of the second Punic war, m the year ot 
 
 ^t°Here Plutarch leaves a void of fifteen years. 
 It was not, indeed, a remarkable period of the 
 life of Fabius. Hannibal entered Italy in the year 
 of Rome 535. He defeated Scipio m the battle 
 of Ticinus, before he beat Sempronius in that ot 
 TTrcbisi# 
 
 X Plutarch misunderstood Livy, and of the two 
 prodigies which he mentions, made but one. Livy 
 says “At Falerium the sky was seen to open, 
 and in the void space a great light appeared. 
 The lots at Prseneste shrunk of their own accord, 
 and one of them dropped down, whereon was 
 written, ‘ Mars brandisheth his sword. Liy. 
 lib. xxii.— These lots were bits of oak, handsomely 
 wrought, with some ancient characters inscribed 
 I upon them. When any came to consult thein, 
 
 1 the coffer in which they were kept was opened, 
 
 1 and a child having first shaken them together, 
 
 1 drew out one from the rest, which contained the 
 answ^er to the querist’s demand. As to the lots 
 1 being shrunk, which Livy mentions, and which 
 I was considered as a bad omen, no doubt the 
 i priests had two sets, a smaller and a greater, 
 I which they played upon the people s superstition 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 were veiy legible : _^^Mars brandisheth his arms.” 
 But Caius Flaminius, then consul, was not dis- 
 couraged by any of these things. He was indeed 
 naturally a man of much fire and ambition, and, 
 besides, v/as elated by former successes, which 
 he had met with contrary to all probability ; for 
 against the sense of the senate and his colleague, 
 he had engaged with the Gauls and beaten them. 
 Fabius 1 kewise paid but little regard to prodigies,* 
 as too absurd to be believed, notwithstanding the 
 great effect they had upon the multitude. But 
 being informed how small the numbers of the 
 enemy were, and of the want of money, he advised 
 the Romans to have patience ; not to give battle 
 to a man who led on an army hardened by many 
 conflicts for this very purpose; but to send suc- 
 cours to their allies, and to secure the towns that 
 were in their possession, until the vigour of the 
 enemy expired of itself, like a flame for want 
 of fuel. 
 
 He could not, however, prevail upon Flaminius. 
 That general declared he would never suffer the 
 war to approach Rome, nor like Camillus of old, 
 dispute within the walls who should be the master 
 of the city. He, therefore, ordered the tribunes 
 to draw out the forces, and mounted his horse, 
 but was thrown headlong off,t the horse, without 
 any visible cause, being seized with a fright and 
 trembling. Yet he persisted in his resolution of 
 marching out to meet Hannibal, and drew up 
 his army near the lake called Thrasymenus,J in 
 Tuscany. 
 
 While the armies were engaged, there happened 
 an earthquake, which overturned whole cities, 
 changed the course of rivers, and tore ofif the tops 
 of mountains : yet not one of the combatants was 
 in the least sensible of that violent motion. Fla- 
 minius himself, having greatly signalized his 
 strength and valour, fell ; and with him the 
 bravest of his troops ; the rest being routed, a 
 great carnage ensued : full 15,000 were slain, and 
 as many taken prisoners.! Hannibal was very 
 
 I31 
 
 as they pleased. Cicero says, they w^ere very 
 ittle^ regarded in his time. Cic. de Divinat 
 hb. 11. 
 
 _ * * If Fabius was not moved by those prodigies. 
 It was not because he despised them (as his col- 
 league did, who, according to Livy, neither feared 
 the gods nor took advice of men), but because he 
 hoped, by appeasing the anger of the gods, to 
 ^nder the prodigies ineffectual. It was not 
 r abius, however, but Cn. Servilius Geminus, who 
 was colleague to Flaminius. 
 t This fall from his horse, which was considered 
 followed by another as bad. 
 When the ensign attempted to pull his standard 
 out of the ground in order to march, he had not 
 strength enough to do it. But where is the 
 wonder, says Cicero, to have a horse take fright 
 or to find a standard-bearer feebly endeavouring 
 to draw up the standard, which he had perhaps 
 purposely struck deep into the ground ? 
 i Now the lake of Perugia. 
 
 § Notwithstanding this complete victory 
 Cannibal lost only 1500 men ; for he fought the 
 Komans at great advantage, having drawn them 
 ^ between the hills of Cortona 
 
 M . ^ hrasymenus. Livy and Valerius 
 
 ^ number of prisoners only 
 
 says, they were much more 
 numerous. About 10,000 Romans, most of them 
 
 desirous of discovering the body of Flaminius, 
 that he might bury it with due honour, as a tribute 
 to his bravery, but he could not find it, nor could 
 any account be given v/hat became of it. 
 
 When the Romans lost the battle of Trebia 
 neither the generals sent a true account of it, nor 
 the messenger represented it as it was : both pre- 
 tended the victory was doubtful. But as to the 
 last, as soon as the praetor Pomponius was apprised 
 of It, he assembled the people, and without dis- 
 guising the matter in the least, made this declara- 
 tion : “Romans ! we have lost a great battle, our 
 arniy is cut to pieces, and Flaminius the consul is 
 slam; think, ^ therefore, what is to be done for 
 your safety.” The same commotion which a 
 furious wind causes in the ocean, did these words 
 of the praetor produce in so vast a multitude. In 
 the first consternation they could not fix upon 
 anything : but at length, all agreed that affairs 
 required the direction of an absolute power, which 
 they called^ the dictatorship, and that a man 
 should be pitched upon for it, who would exercise 
 it with steadiness and intrepidity. That such a 
 man was Fabius Maximus, who had a spirit and 
 dignity of manners equal to so great a command, 
 and, besides, was of an age in which the vigour of 
 the body is sufficient to execute the purposes of the 
 mind, and courage is tempered with prudence. 
 
 Pursuant to these resolution.s, Fabius was cho.sen 
 dictator,* and he appointed Lucius Minucius his 
 general of the horse. f But first he desired per- 
 nussion of the senate to make use of a horse when 
 in the field. This was forbidden by an ancient 
 law, either because they placed their greatest 
 strength in the infantry, and therefore chose that 
 the commander in chief should be always posted 
 among them ; or else because they would have 
 the dictator, whose power in all other respects 
 was very great, and, indeed, arbitrary, in this 
 case at least appear to be dependent upon the 
 people. In the next place, Fabius, willing to 
 show the high authority and grandeur of his 
 office, in order to make the people more tractable 
 and submissive, appeared in public with twenty- 
 four lictors carrying the fasces before him ; and 
 when the surviving consul met him, he sent one 
 of his officers to order him to dismiss his lictors 
 and the other ensigns of his employment, and to 
 join him as a private man. 
 
 _ Then beginning with an act of religion, which 
 IS the best of all beginnings, and assuring the 
 people that their defeats were not owing to the 
 cowardice of the soldiers, but to the general’s 
 
 wounded, made their escape, and took their route 
 to ^ Rome, where few of them arrived, the rest 
 dying of their wounds before they reached the 
 capital. Two mothers were so transported with 
 joy, one at the gate of the city, when she saw her 
 son unexpectedly appear, and the other at home, 
 where she found her son, that they both expired 
 on the spot. 
 
 * A dictator could not be regularly named but 
 by the surviving consul, and Servilius being with 
 the army, the people appointed Fabius by their 
 own authority, with the title of prodictator. 
 However, the gratitude of Rome allowed his 
 descendants to put dictator instead of prodictator 
 in the list o his titles. 
 
 t According to Polybius and Livy, his name 
 was not Lucius, but Marcus Minucius ; nor was 
 he pitched upon by Fabius, but by the people. 
 
j^2 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 neglect of the sacred rites and auspices, he ex- 
 horted them to entertain no dread of the enerny, 
 but by extraordinary honours to propitiate the 
 gods. Not that he wanted to infuse into them a 
 soirit of superstition, but to confirm their valour 
 by piety, and to deliver them from every ot^r 
 fear by a sense of the Divine protection. On 
 that occasion he consulted several of those mys- 
 terious books of the Sibyls, which contained 
 matters of great use to the state ; and it 
 that some of the prophecies found there peifectly 
 agreed with the circumstances of those times : but 
 it was not lawful to divulge them. However, in 
 full assembly, he vowed to the gods a ver sacrum^ 
 that is, all the young which the next spring 
 should produce, on the mountains, the fields, the 
 rivers, and meadows of Italy, from the goats, the 
 swine, the sheep, and the cows. He likewise 
 vowed to exhibit the great games in honour ot the 
 crods, and to expend upon those games 333,000 
 %.^terces, 333 denarii, and one third of a denarius; 
 which sum in our Greek money is 83,583 drachmas 
 and two oboli. What his reason might be for fix- 
 ing upon that precise number is not easy to deter- 
 mine, unless it were on account of the perfection 
 ot the number three, as being the first of odd 
 numbers, the first of plurals, and containing in 
 itself the first differences, and the first elements 
 of all numbers. , . 
 
 Fabius having taught the people to repose them- 
 selves on acts of religion, rnade them more easy 
 as to future events. For his own part, he placed 
 all his hopes of victory in himself, believing that 
 heaven ble.sses men with success on account ot 
 their virtue and prudence; and therefore he 
 watched the motions of Hannibal, not with a 
 design to give him battle, but by length of tip® to 
 waste his spirit and vigour, and gradually to 
 destroy him by means of his superiority in men 
 and money. To secure himself against the 
 enemy’s horse, he took care to encamp above 
 them on high and mountainous places. When 
 they sat still he did the same ; when they were in 
 motion he showed himself upon the heights, at 
 such a distance as not to be obliged to fight 
 against his inclination, and yet near enough to 
 keep them in perpetual alarm, as if, amidst his 
 arts to gain time, he intended every moment to 
 give them battle. 
 
 These dilatory proceedings exposed him to con- 
 tempt among the Romans in general, and even in 
 his own army. The enemy, too, excepting Han- 
 nibal, thought him a man of no spmt.^ He alone 
 was sensible of the keenness of Fabius, and of 
 the manner in which he intended to carry on the 
 war and therefore was determined, if possible, 
 either by stratagem or force, to bring him to a 
 battle, concluding that otherwise the Cartha- 
 ginians must be undone : since they could not 
 decide the matter in the field, where they u^d the 
 advantage, but must gradually wear away and be 
 reduced to nothing, when the dispute was only 
 who should be superior in men and money. 
 Hence it was that he exhausted the whole art of 
 war ; like a skilful wrestler, who watches every 
 opportunity to lay hold of his advepary. Some- 
 times he advanced and alarmed him with the 
 apprehensions of an attack; sompimes by march- 
 ing and countermarching he led hiin from place to 
 place, hoping to draw him from his plan of caution. 
 But as he was fully persuaded of its utility, he 
 kept immovably to his resolution. Minucius, 
 
 his general of horse, gave him, however, no small 
 trouble, by his unseasonable courage and heat, 
 haranguing the army, and filling them with a 
 furious desire to come to action, and a vain confi- 
 dence of success. Thus the soldiers were brought 
 to despise Fabius, and by way of derision to call 
 him the pedagogue of Hannibal,^ while they 
 extolled Minucius as a great man, and one that 
 acted up to the dignity of Rome Ihis led 
 Minucius to give a freer scope to his arrogance 
 and pride, and to ridicule the dictator for encamp- 
 ing constantly upon the mountains, as it-he did it 
 on purpose that his men might more clearly 
 behold Italy laid waste with fire and sword. And 
 he asked the friends of Fabius, whether he in- 
 tended to take his army up into heaven, as he had 
 bid adieu to the world below, or whether he would 
 screen himself from the enemy with clouds and 
 fogs. When the dictator’s friends brought him 
 an account of these aspersions, and exhorted him 
 to wipe them off by risking a battle, In that 
 case,” said he, “ I should be of a more dastardly 
 spirit than they represent me, if through fear of 
 insults and reproaches, 1 should depart from my 
 own resolution. But to fear for my country p not 
 a disagreeable fear. That man is unworthy of 
 such a command as this, who shrinks ^ under 
 calumnies and slanders, and complies with the 
 humour of those whom he ought to govern, and 
 whose folly and rashness it is his duty to restrain. 
 
 After this, Hannibal made a disagreeable mis- 
 take. For intending to lead his army farther from 
 Fabius, and to move into a part of the country 
 that would afford him forage, he ordered the 
 guides, immediately after supper to conduct 
 to the plains of Casinum.t They taking the word 
 wrong, by reason of his barbarous pronunciation 
 of it led his forces to the borders of Campania, 
 near’ the town of Casalium, through which runs 
 the river Lothronus, which the Romans call V ul- 
 turnus. The adjacent country is surrounded with 
 mountains, except only a valley that stretches out 
 to the sea. Near the sea the ground is very 
 marshy, and full of large banks of s^d, by 
 reason of the overflowing of the river, ihe sea 
 is there very rough and the coast almost imprac- 
 ticable. , j ..1 • 
 
 As soon as Hannibal was entered into this 
 valley, Fabius availing himself of his knowledge 
 of the country, seized the narrow outlet, and 
 placed in it a guard of 4000 men. Ihe mam 
 body of his army he posted to advantage on the 
 surrounding hills, and with the lightest and most 
 active of his troops, fell upon the enemy s rear, 
 
 * For the office of a pedagogue of old was (as 
 the name implies) to attend the children, to carry 
 them up and down, and conduct them home agairu 
 t Hannibal had ravaged Samnium, plundered 
 the territory of Beneventum, a Roman colony, 
 and laid siege to Tilesia, a city at the foot of the 
 Appenines. But finding that neither the ravag- 
 ing of the country, nor even the taking of some 
 ■ cities could make Fabius quit his eminences he 
 resolved to make use of a stronger bait, which 
 was to enter Campania, the finest country in Italy, 
 and lay it waste under the dictator s eyes, hoping 
 by that means to bring him to an action.^ But by 
 the mistake which Plutarch mentions, his guides, ] 
 instead of conducting him to the plains of Casi- 
 ; num, led him into the narrow passes of Casilinum, 
 which divides Samnium from Campania. 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS, 
 
 and put their whole army in disorder, and lulled 
 about 800 of them. 
 
 Hannibal then wanted to get clear of so disad- 
 v^tageous a situation, and, in revenge of the 
 mistake the guides had made, and the danger 
 they had brought him into, he crucified them all. 
 But not knowing how to drive the enemy from 
 I the heights they were masters of, and sensible 
 I besides of the terror and confusion that reigned 
 I amongst his men, who concluded themselves 
 fallen into a «iare, from which there was no 
 escaping, he had recourse to stratagem. 
 
 The contrivance was this. He caused 2000 
 j oxen, which he had in his camp, to have torches 
 I and dry bavins well fastened to their horns, i 
 j The^, in the night, upon a signal given, were to . 
 j be lighted, and the oxen to be driven to the j 
 ; mountains, near the narrow pass that was guarded ' 
 by the enemy. While those that had it in charge \ 
 I were thus employed, he decamped and marched i 
 slowly forward. So long as the fire w'as moderate, ■ 
 . and burned only the torches and Imvins, the oxen 
 moved softly on, as they w'ere driven up the 
 hills ; and the shepherds and herdsmen on the 
 . adjacent heights took them for an army that 
 i m^cheJ in order with lighted torches. But 
 ' when their horns were burnt to the roots, and 
 : the fire pierced to the quick, terrified and mad 
 with pain, they no loriger kept any certain route, 
 
 ; but ran up the hills, with their foreheads and 
 1 tails flaming, and setting everything on fire that 
 I came in their way. The Romans who guarded ' 
 j the pass were astonished ; for they apj>eared to 
 them like a great number of men running up and 
 j down with torches, which scattered fire on every 
 i fe^, of course, they concluded, 
 
 that they should be attacked and surrounded by . 
 j the enemy; for which reason they quitted the ' 
 j pass, and fled to the main body in the camp, j 
 I Immediately Hannibal’s light-armed troops took 
 I possesion of the outlet, and the rest of his forces 
 j xn^ch^ safely through, loaded with a rich booty. ! 
 i Fabius duicovered the stratagem that same ! 
 
 night, for some of the oxen, as they were scat- ' 
 
 ; tered about, fell into his hands ; but, for fear of 1 
 ; an ambu.sh in the dark, he kept his men all night 
 ; under arms in the camp. At break of day, he 
 j pursued the enemy, came up with their rear, and I 
 ’ several skirmishes ensued in the 
 j difficult pa.sses of the mountains, and Hannibal’s 
 ’ &rmy was put in some disorder, until he detached 
 ; froin his van a body of Spaniards, light and 
 J nimble men, w^ho were accustomed to climb such 
 t ’ITiese falling ujxm the heavy-armed ■ 
 
 I Romans, cut off a considerable number of them, i 
 ; and obliged Fabius to retire. This brought upon i 
 ; him more contempt and calumny than ever * for 
 j ^ving renounced open force, as if he could sub- | 
 due Hannibal by conduct and foresight, he ap- 
 ' to be worsted at his own weapons, 
 
 i Hannibal, to incense the Romans still more ' 
 against him, when he came to his lands, ordered i 
 them to be spared, and set a guard upon them to * 
 prevent the committing of the least injury there, ■ 
 while he was ravaging all the country around 
 him and laying it waste with fire. An account ' 
 01 tJi^ tmngs being brought to Rome, heavy I 
 complaints were made thereupon. ITie tribunes 
 alleged many articles of accusation against him, ' 
 ^ ir^tigatlon of I 
 Metilms, who had no particular enmity to Fabius, ! 
 but bemg strongly in the interest of Minucius, 
 
 133 
 
 the genei^ of the horse, whose relation he was, 
 he thou^ by depressing Fabius, to raise his 
 friend. The senate too was offended, particularly 
 with the terms he settled with Hannibal for 
 the ransom of prisoners. For it was ac^reed 
 between them, that the prisoners should ex- 
 changed, man for man, and that if either of them 
 had more than the other, be should release them 
 for 250 drachmas each man;* and upon the 
 whole account there remained 240 Romans un- 
 exchanged. The senate determined not to pay 
 this ransom, ^d blamed Fabius as taking a step 
 that w^ against the honour and interest of the 
 state, in endeavouring to recover men whom 
 cowardice had betrayed into the ba ndg of the 
 enemy. 
 
 When Fabius was informed of the resentment 
 of his fellow-citizens, he bore it with invincible 
 patience ; but being in w^ant of money, and not 
 choosing to deceive Hanndjal, or to atendon his 
 'Toointrymen in their distress, he sent his son to 
 Rome, wfith orders to sell part of his estate, and 
 bring him the money immediately. This was 
 punctually performed by his son, and Fabius 
 redeemed the prisoners ; several of w'hom after- 
 wards offered to repay him, but his generosity 
 would not permit him to accept it. 
 
 After this he was called to Rome by the priests, 
 to assist at some of the solemn sacrifices, and 
 therefore was obliged to leave the army to Minu- 
 cius ; but he both charged him as dictator, and 
 used many arguments and entreaties with him as 
 a friend, not to come to any kind of action. The 
 pains he took were lost upon Minucius; for he 
 immediately sought occasions to fight the enemy. 
 And obseiA'ing one day that Hannibal had sent 
 out great part of his army to forage, he attacked 
 those that were lett behinc^ and drove them 
 wfithin their entrenchments, killing great numbers 
 of them, so that they even feared he would storm 
 their camp : and when the rest of the Cartha- 
 ginian forces were returned, he retreated without 
 loss, t ’I’his success added to his temerity, and in- 
 creased the ardour of his soldiers. I'he report of 
 it soon reached Rome, and the advantage was 
 represented as much greater than it really was. ■ 
 When Fabius was informed of it, he said he ■ 
 dreaded nothing more than the .success of Minu- 
 cius. But the people, mightily elated wnth the 
 news, ran to ihe ; and their tribune Me- 
 
 tilius harangued them from the rostrum, highly 
 extolling Minucius, and accusing Fabius now, 
 not of cowardice and w-ant of spirit, but of 
 tr^chery. He endeavoured a’so to involve the 
 : principal men in Rome in the same crime, al- 
 1 leging, that they had originally brought the war 
 upon Italy, for the destruction of the common 
 ! people, and had put the commonwealth under the 
 absolute direction of one man, who by his slow 
 proceedings gave Hannibal opportunity to estab- 
 lish hiniseif in the country, and to draw fre^h 
 forces from Carthage, in order to efiect a total 
 conquest of Italy. 
 
 Fabius disdained to make any defence against 
 
 * Livy caHs this argenti pondo biTia et selibras 
 in miiiteni ; whence w'e leam that the Roman ; 
 pondo, or pound weight of silver, was equivalent 
 to too Grecian drachmas or a mina. ' 
 
 t Others say, that he lost 5000 of his men, and 
 that the enemy’s loss did not exceed his by more I 
 than 1000. ! 
 
1^4 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 these allegations of the tribune ; he only declared 
 that he would finish the sacrifice and other 
 religious rites as soon as possible, that he_ might 
 return to the army and punish Minucius for 
 fighting contrary to his orders. This occasioned 
 a great tumult among the people, who were 
 alarmed at the danger of Minucius. For it is in 
 the dictator’s power to imprison and inflict capital 
 punishment without form oi trial ; and they 
 thought that the wrath of Fabius now provoked, 
 though he was naturally very mild and patient, 
 would prove heavy and implacable. But fear 
 kept them all silent, except Metilius, whose per- 
 son, as tribune of the people, could not be touched 
 (for the tribunes are the only officers of state that 
 retain their authority after the appointing of a 
 dictator). Metilius entreated, insisted that the 
 people should not give up Minucius, to suffer, 
 perhaps, what Manlius Torquatus caused his own 
 son to suffer, whom he beheaded when crowned 
 with laurel for his victory : but that they should 
 take from Fabius his power to play the tyrant, 
 and leave the direction of affairs to one who was 
 both able and willing to save his country. The 
 people, though much affected with this speech, 
 did not venture to divest Fabius of the dictator- 
 ship, notwithstanding the odnim he had incurred, 
 but decreed that Minucius should share the com- 
 mand with him, and have equal authority in con- 
 ducting the war : a thing never before practised 
 in Rome. There was, however, another instance 
 of it, soon after upon the unfortunate action of 
 Cannse : for Marcus Junius the dictator being 
 then in the field, they created another dictator, 
 Fabius Buteo, to fill up the senate, many of 
 whose members were slain in that battle. There 
 was this difference, indeed, that Buteo had no 
 sooner enrolled the new senators, than he dis- 
 missed his lictors and the rest of his retinue, and 
 mixed with the crowd, stopping some time in the 
 fortun about his own affairs as a private man. 
 
 When the people had thus invested Minucius 
 with a power equal to that of the dictator, they 
 thought they should find Fabius extremely hum- 
 bled and dejected ; but it soon appeared that they 
 knew not the man. For he did not reckon their 
 mistake any unhappiness to him ; but as Diogenes, 
 the philosopher, when one said, “ They deride 
 you,” answered well, “But I am not derided;” 
 accounting those only to be ridiculed, who feel 
 the ridicule and are discomposed at it ; so Fabius 
 bore without emotion all that happened to him- 
 self, herein confirming that position in philosophy, 
 which affirms that a wise and good man can suffer 
 no disgrace. But he was under no small concern 
 for the public, on account of the unadvised pro- 
 ceedings of the people, who had put it in the 
 power of a rash man to indulge his indiscreet 
 ambition for military distinction. _ And appre- 
 hensive that Minucius, infatuated with ambition, 
 might take some fatal step, he left Rome very 
 privately. 
 
 Upon his arrival at the camp, he found the 
 arrogance of Minucius grown to such a height, 
 that it was no longer to be endured. Fabius 
 therefore refused to comply with his demand of 
 having the army under his orders every other day, 
 and, instead of that, divided the forces with him, 
 choosing rather to have the full command of a 
 part, than the direction of the whole by turns. 
 He therefore took the first and fourth legions 
 himself, leaving the second and third to Minucius; 
 
 and the confederate forces were likewise equally 
 divided. 
 
 Minucius valued himself highly upon this, that 
 the power of the greate.st and most arbitrary office 
 in the state was controlled* and reduced for his 
 sake. But Fabius put him in mind, that it was 
 not Fabius whom he had to contend with, but 
 Hannibal ; that if he would, notwithstanding, 
 consider his colleague as his rival, he must take 
 care lest he who had so successfully carried his 
 point with the people, should one day appear to 
 have their safety and interest less at heart than 
 the man who had been so ill treated by them. 
 Minucius considering this as the effect of an old 
 man’s pique, and taking the troops that fell to 
 his lot, marked out a separate camp for them.* 
 Hannibal was well informed of ^ all that had 
 passed, and watched his opportunity to take ad- 
 vantage of it. 
 
 There was a hill betwixt him and the enemy, 
 not difficult to take possession of, which yet would 
 afford an army a very safe and commodious post. 
 The ground about it, at a distance, seemed quite 
 level and plain, though there were in it several 
 ditches and hollows: and therefore, though he 
 might privately have seized that post with ease, 
 yet he left it as a bait to draw the enemy to an 
 engagement. But as soon as he saw Minucius 
 parted from Fabius, he took an opportunity in the 
 night to place a number f of men in those ditches 
 and hollows : and early in the morning he openly 
 sent out a small party, as if designed to make 
 themselves masters of the hill, but really to draw 
 Minucius to dispute it with them. ^ The event 
 answered his expectation. For Minucius sent 
 out his light-armed troops ^first, then the cavalry, 
 and at last, when he saw Flannibal send reinforce- 
 ments to his men upon the hill, he marched out 
 with all his forces in order of battle, and attacked 
 with great vigour the Carthaginians, who were 
 marking out a camp upon the hill. T. he fortune 
 of the day was doubtful, until Hannibal, per- 
 ceiving that the enemy had fallen into the snare, 
 and that their rear was open to the ambuscade, 
 instantly gave the signal. Hereupon, his men 
 rushed out on all sides, and advancing with loud 
 shouts, and cutting in pieces the hindmost ranks, 
 they put the Romans in disorder and terror in- 
 expressible. Even the spirit of Minucius began 
 to shrink; and he looked first upon one officer 
 and then upon another, but not one of them durst 
 stand his ground ; they all betook themselves to 
 flight, and the flight itself proved fatal. For the 
 Numidians, now victorious, galloped round the 
 plain, and killed those whom they found dis- 
 persed. 
 
 Fabius was not ignorant of the danger of his 
 countrymen. Foreseeing what would happen, he 
 kept his forces under arms, and took care to be 
 informed how the action went on : nor did he 
 trust to the reports of others, but he himself looked 
 out from an eminence not far from his camp. 
 When he saw the army of his colleague surrounded 
 and broken, and the cry reached him not like 
 that o men standing the charge, but of persons 
 flying in great dismay, he smote upon his thigh, J 
 
 * About 1500 paces from Fabius. 
 t 500 horse and 5000 foot. Polyb. 
 
 X Homer mentions the custom of smiting upon 
 the thigh in t.me of trouble ; and we learn from 
 Scripture, that it was practised in the east. 
 
FABIU^ MAXIMUS, 135 
 
 and with a deep sigh said to his friends about 
 him, “Ye gods! how much sooner than I ex- 
 pected, and yet later than his indiscreet proceed- 
 ings required, has Minucius ruined himself ! ” 
 Then, having commanded the standard-bearers 
 to advance, and the whole army to follow, he ad- 
 dressed them in these words : “ Now, my brave 
 soldiers, if any one has a regard for Marcus 
 Mmucius, let him exert himself ; for he deserves 
 assistance for his valour, and the love he bears his 
 country. If, in his haste to drive out the enemy, 
 he has committed any error, this is not a time to 
 find fault with him.” 
 
 The first sight of Fabius frightened away the 
 Numidians, who were picking up stragglers in the 
 field. Then he attacked those who were charging 
 the Romans in the rear. Such as made resistance 
 he slew ; but the greatest part retreated to their 
 own army, before the communication was cut off, 
 lest they should themselves be surrounded in their 
 turn. Hannibal seeing this change of fortune, 
 and finding that Fabius pushed on through the 
 hottest of the battle with a vigour above his years, 
 to come up to Minucius upon the hill, put an end 
 to the dispute, and having sounded a retreat, 
 retired into his camp. The Romans, on their 
 part, were not sorry when the action was over. 
 Hannibaly as he was drawing off, is reported to 
 have said smartly to those that were by, “ Did 
 not I often tell you, that this cloud would one day 
 burst upon us from the mountains, with all the 
 fury of a storm?” 
 
 After the battle, Fabius having collected the 
 spoils of such Carthaginians as v/ere left dead 
 upon the field, returned to his post ; nor did he 
 let fall one haughty or angry word against his 
 colleague. As for Minucius, having called his 
 men ^ together, he thus expressed himself : 
 “ Friends and fellow-soldiers ! not to err at all in 
 the management of great affairs, is above the 
 wisdom of men : but it is the part of a prudent 
 and good man, to learn, from his errors and mis- 
 carriages, to correct himself for the future. For 
 my part, I confess, that though fortune has 
 frowned upon me a little, I have much to thank 
 her for. For what I could not be brought to be 
 sensible of in so long a time, I have learned in the 
 small compass of one day, that I know not how to 
 command, but have need to be under the direction 
 of another ; and from this moment I bid adieu to 
 the ambition of getting the better of a man whom 
 it is an honour to be foiled by. In all other re- 
 spects, the dictator shall be your commander ; 
 but in the due expressions of gratitude to him, I 
 will be your leader.still, by being the first to show 
 an example of obedience and submission.” 
 
 He then ordered the ensigns to advance with 
 the eagles, and the troops to follow, himself 
 marching at their head to the camp of Fabius. 
 Being admitted, he went directly to his tent. 
 The whole army waited with impatience for the 
 event. When Fabius came out, Minucius fixed 
 his standard before him, and with a loud voice 
 saluted him by the name of Father; at the same 
 time his soldiers called those of Fabius their 
 Patrons; an appellation which freedmen give to 
 those that enfranchise them. These respects 
 being paid, and silence taking place, Minucius 
 thus addressed himself to the dictator ; “You 
 have this day, Fabius, obtained two victt)ries ; 
 one over the enemy by your valour, the other 
 over your colleague by your prudence and 
 
 humanity. By the former you saved us, by the 
 latter you have instructed us : and Hannibal’s 
 victory over us is not more disgraceful than yours 
 is honourable and salutary to us. I call you 
 Father, not knowing a more honourable name, 
 and am more indebted to you than to my real 
 father. To him I owe my being, but to you the 
 preservation of my life, and the lives of all these 
 brave men.” After this, he threw himself into 
 the arms of Fabius, and the soldiers of each army 
 embraced one another, with every expression of 
 tenderness, and with tears of joy. 
 
 Not long after this, Fabius laid down the 
 dictatorship, and consuls were created.* The 
 first of these kept to the plan which Fabius had 
 laid down. He took care not to come to a pitched 
 battle with Hannibal, but sent succours to the 
 allies of Rome, and prevented any revolt in their 
 cities. But when Terentius Varro,t a man of 
 obscure birth, and remarkable only for his 
 temerity and servile complaisance to the people, 
 rose to the consulship, it soon appeared that his 
 boldness and inexperience would bring him to risk 
 the very being of the commonwealth. For he 
 loudly insisted in the assemblies of the people, 
 that the war stood still whilst it was under the 
 conduct of the Fabii ; but, for his part, he would 
 take but pne day to get sight of the enemy and 
 to beat him. With these promises he so prevailed 
 on the multitude,- that he raised greater forces 
 than Rome had ever had on foot before, in her 
 most dangerous wars ; for he mustered J no fewer 
 than 88,000 men. Hereupon, Fabius, and other 
 wise and experienced persons among the Romans 
 were greatly alarmed ; because they saw no 
 resource for the state, if such a number of their 
 youth should be cut off. They addressed them- 
 selves, therefore, to the other consul, Paulus 
 .^milius, a man of great experience in war, but 
 disagreeable to the people, and at the same time 
 afraid of them, for they had formerly set a con- 
 siderable fine upon him. Fabius, however, 
 encouraged him to withstand the temerity of his 
 colleague, telling him, that the dispute he had to 
 support for his country was not so much with 
 Hannibal as with Varro, “ The latter,” said he, 
 “will hasten to an engagement,§ because he 
 
 * According to Livy, Fabius, after the six 
 months of his dictatorship were expired, resigned 
 the army to the consuls of that year, Servilius 
 and Attilius ; the latter having been appointed 
 in the room of Flaminius, who was killed in 
 battle. But Plutarch follows Polybius, who says, 
 that as the time for the election of new consuls 
 approached, the Romans named L. i^^milius 
 Paulus and Terentius Varro consuls, after which 
 the dictators resigned their charge. 
 
 t Varro was the son of a butcher, and had 
 followed his father’s profession in his youth ; but, 
 growing rich, he had forsaken that mean calling ; 
 and, by the favour of the people, procured by 
 supporting the most turbulent of their tribunes, 
 he obtained the consulate. 
 
 t It was usual with the Romans to muster 
 every year four legions, which consisting in 
 difficult times, each of 5000 Roman foot and 300 
 horse, and a battalion of Latins equal to that 
 number, amounted in the whole to 42,400. But 
 this year, instead of four legions, they raised 
 eight. 
 
 § The best dependence of Varro was, un- 
 
136 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 knows not his own strength ; and the former, 
 because he knows his own weakness. But, 
 believe me, i^milius, I deserve more attention 
 than Varro, with respect to the affairs of Hanni- 
 bal ; and I do assure you, that if the Romans 
 come to no battle with him this year, he will 
 eitlier be undone by his stay in Italy, or else be 
 obliged to quit it. Even now, when he seems to 
 be victorious, and to carry all before him, not 
 one of his enemies has quitted the Roman interest, 
 and not a third part oi the forces remains which 
 he brought from home with him.” To this i^milius 
 is said to have answered, “ My friend, when I 
 consider myself only, I conclude it better for me 
 to fall upon the weapons of the enemy, than by 
 the sentence of my own countrymen. However, 
 since the state of public affairs is so critical, 1 
 will endeavour to approve myself a good general, 
 and had rather appear such to you, than to all 
 who oppose you, and who would draw me, willing 
 or unwilling, to their party.” With these senti- 
 ments iEmilius began his operations. 
 
 But Varro, having brought his colleague to 
 agree * that they should command alternately 
 each his day, when his turn came, took post 
 over against Hannibal, on the banks of the 
 Auhdus, near the village of Cannae, t As soon as 
 it was light, he gave the signal for battle, which 
 is a red mantle set up over the general’s tent. 
 The Carthaginians were a little disheartened at 
 first, when they saw how dating the consul was, 
 and that his army was more than twice their 
 number. But Hannibal having ordered them to 
 arm, himself, with a few others, rode up to an 
 eminence, to take a view of the enemy now 
 drawn up for battle. One Cisco that accompanied 
 him, a man of his own rank, happening to sa)^ the 
 numbers of the enemy appeared to him surprising, 
 Hannibal replied, with a serious countenance. 
 “There is another thing which has escaped j^oin 
 observation, much more surprising than that.” 
 Upon his asking what it was, “ It is,” said he, 
 “ that among such numbers not one of them is 
 named Cisco.” The whole company were diverted 
 with the humour of his observations ; and as they 
 returned to the camp, they told the jest to those 
 they met, so that the laugh became universal. 
 At sight of this the Carthaginians took courage, 
 thinking it must proceed trom the great contempt 
 in which their general held the Romans, that he 
 could jest and laugh in the face of danger. 
 
 In this battle Hannibal gave great proofs of 
 
 generalship. In the first place, he took advantage 
 of the ground, to post his men with their backs to 
 the wind, which was then very violent and scorch- 
 ing, and drove from the dry plains, over the heads 
 of the Carthaginians, clouds of sand and dust into 
 the eyes and nostrils of the Romans, so that they 
 were ob’iged to turn away their faces and break 
 their ranks. In the next place, his troops were 
 drawn up with superior art. He placed the 
 flower of them in the wings, and those upon 
 whom he had less dependence in the main corps, 
 whicii was considerably more advanced than the 
 wings. Then he commanded those in the wings, 
 that when the enemy had -charged and vigorously 
 pushed that advanced body, which he knew 
 would give way, and open a passage for them to 
 the very centre, and when the Romans by this 
 means should be far enough engaged within the 
 two wings, they should both on the right and left 
 take them in flank, and endeavour to surround 
 them.* This was the principal cause of the 
 great carnage that followed. For the enemy 
 pressing upon Hannibal’s front, which gave 
 ground, the form of his army was changed into 
 a half-rfioon ; and the officers of the select troops 
 caused the two points of the wings to join behind 
 the Romans. Thus they were exposed to the 
 attacks of the Carthaginians on all sides ; an in- 
 credible slaughter followed ; nor did any escape 
 but the few that retreated before the main body 
 was enclosed. 
 
 It is also said, that a strange and fatal accident 
 happened to the Roman cavalry. For the horse 
 which iEmilius rode having received some hurt, 
 threw him ; and those about him alighting to as- 
 sist and defend the consul on foot, the rest of the 
 cavalry seeing this, and taking it for a signal for 
 them to do the same, all quitted their honses, and 
 charged on foot. At sight of this, Hannibal said, 
 
 “ This pleases me better than if they had been 
 delivered to me bound hand and foot.” But the 
 particulars may oe found at large in the historians 
 who have described this battle. 
 
 As to the consuls, Varro escaped with a few 
 horse to Venutia ; and .^milius, covered with 
 darts which stuck in his wounds, sat down in 
 anguish and despair, waiting for the enemy to 
 despatch him. His head and his face were so 
 disfigured and stained with blood, that it was not 
 easy to know him ; even his friends and servants 
 passed by him without stopping. At last, Cor- 
 nelius Lentulus, a young man of a patrician 
 family, perceiving who he was, dismounted, and 
 entreated him to take h.s horse, and save himself 
 for the commonwealth, which had then more oc- 
 casion than ever for so good a consul. But noth ng 
 could prevail upon him to accept of the offer ; 
 and, notwithstanding the young man’s tears, he 
 obliged him to mount his horse again. Then 
 rising up,and taking him by the hand, “Tell Fabius 
 Maximus,” said he, “ and Lentulus, do you your- 
 self be witness, that Paulus iEmilius followed his 
 directions to the last, and did not deviate in the 
 least from the plan agreed upon between them, 
 .lut was first overcome by Varro, and then by 
 Hannibal.” Having despatched Lentulus with 
 this commission, he rushed among the enemy’s 
 
 doubtedly, to prolong the war, that Hannibal, 
 who was already weakened, might wear himself 
 out by degrees ; and, for the same reason, it was 
 Hannibal’s business to fight. 
 
 * It was a fixed rule with the Romans, that 
 the consuls, when they went upon the same 
 service, should have the command of the army by 
 turns. 
 
 t Cannae, according to Livy, Appian, and 
 Florus, was only a poor village, which afterwards 
 became famous on account of the battle fought 
 near it ; but Polybius, who lived near the time of 
 the second Punic war, styles Cannae a city ; and 
 adds, that it had been razed a year before the 
 defeat of the Roman army. Stilus Italicus agrees 
 with Polybius. It was afterv/ards rebuilt ; for 
 Pliny ranks it among the cities of Apulia. The 
 ruins of Cannae are still to be seen in the territory- 
 of Bari. 
 
 * Five hundred Numidians pretended to desert 
 to the Romans ; but in the heat of the battle 
 turned against them, and attacked them in the 
 rear. 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 137 
 
 swords, and was slain. Fifty thousand Romans 
 are said to have fallen in this battle,* and 4000 to 
 have been taken prisoners, beside 10,000 that were 
 taken a. ter the battle in both the camps. 
 
 After this great success, Hannibal s friends ad- 
 vised him to pursue his fortune, and to enter 
 Rome along with the fugitives, assuring him that 
 in five days he might sup in the Capitol. It is 
 not easy to conjecture what his reason was for 
 not taking this step. Most probably some deity 
 opposed it, and therefore inspired him with this 
 hesitation and timidity. On this account it was 
 that a Carthaginian, named Barca, said to him 
 1 with some heat, “ Hannibal, you know how to 
 gain a victory, but not how to use it.”f 
 
 The battle of Cannse, however, made such an 
 alteration in his affairs, that though before it he 
 had neither town, nor magazine, nor port in Italy, 
 but, without any regular supplies for the war, 
 subsisted his army by rapine, and for that purpose 
 moved them, like a great band of robbers, from 
 place to place, yet then he became master of the 
 greatest part of Italy. Its best provinces and 
 towns voluntarily submitted to him, and Capua 
 itself, the most respectable city after Rome, threw 
 its weight into his scale. 
 
 In this case it appeared that great misfortunes 
 are not only, what Euripides calls them, a trial 
 of the fidelity of a friend, but of the capacity and 
 conduct of a general. For the proceedings of 
 Fabius, which before this battle were deemed cold 
 and timid, then appeared to be directed by 
 counsels more than human, to be indeed the dic- 
 tates of a divine wisdom, which penetrated into 
 futurity at such a distance, and foresaw wha^ 
 seemed incredible to the very persons who ex- 
 perienced it. In him, therefore, Rome places her 
 last hope ; his judgment is the temple, the altar, 
 
 to which she flies for refuge, believing that to his 
 prudence it was chiefly owing that she still held 
 up her head, and that her children were not dis- 
 persed, as when she was taken by the Gauls. 
 For he, who in times of apparent security, seemed 
 to be deficient in confidence and resolution, now 
 when all abandoned themselves to inexpressible 
 sorrow and helpless despair, alone walked about 
 the city with a calm and easy pace, with a firm 
 countenance, a mild and gracious address, check- 
 ing their efifeminate lamentations, and preventing 
 them from assembling in public to bewail their 
 common distress. He caused the senate to meet ; 
 he encouraged the magistrates, himself being the 
 soul of their body, for all waited his motion, and 
 were ready to obey his orders. H e placed a guard 
 at the gates, to hinder such of the people as were 
 inclined to fly, from quitting the city. He fixed 
 both the place and time for mourning, allowed 
 thirty days for that purpose in a man’s own house, 
 and no more for the city in general. And as the 
 feast of Ceres fell within that time, it was thought 
 better entirely to omit the solemnity, than by the 
 small numbers and the melancholy looks of those 
 that should attend it, to discover the greatness of 
 their loss ; * for the worship most acceptable to 
 the gods is that which comes from cheerful hearts. 
 Indeed, whatever the augurs ordered for pro- 
 pitiating the divine powers, and averting in- 
 auspicious omens, was carefully performed. For 
 Fabius Pictor, the near relation of Fabius Maxi- 
 mus, was sent to consult the oracle at Delphi ; 
 and of the two vestals who were then found guilty 
 of a breach of their vow of chastity, one was 
 .juried alive, according to custom, and the other 
 died by her own hand. 
 
 But what most deserves to be admired, is the 
 magnanimity and temper of the Romans, when 
 the consul Varro returned after his defeat,! much 
 humbled and very melancholy, as one who had 
 occasioned the greatest calamity and disgrace 
 imaginable to the republic. The whole senate 
 and people went to welcome him at the gates ; 
 and, when silence was commanded, the magis- 
 trates and principal senators, amongst whom was 
 f abius, commended him for not giving up the 
 circumstarices of the state as desperate after so 
 great a misfortune, but returning to take upon 
 him the administration, and to make what ad- 
 vantage he could for his country of the laws and 
 citizens, as not being utterly lost and ruined. 
 
 When they found that Hannibal, after the 
 
 * According to Livy, there were killed of the 
 Romans only 40,000 foot, and 2700 horse Poly- 
 bius says, that 70,000 were killed. The loss of the 
 Carthaginians did not amount to 6000. 
 
 When the Carthaginians were stripping the 
 dead, among other moving objects, they found to 
 their great surprise, a Numidian yet alive, lying 
 under the dead body of a Roman, who had thrown 
 himself headlong on his enemy, and beat him 
 down ; but being no longer able to make use of 
 his weapons, because he had lost his hands, had 
 tom off the nose and ears of the Numidian with 
 his teeth, and in that fit of rage expired. 
 
 t Zonams tells us, that Hannibal himself after- 
 wards acknowledged his mistake in not pursuing 
 that day’s success, and used often to cry out, “ O 
 Cannse, Cannse ! ” 
 
 But on the other hand, it maybe pleaded in 
 defence of Hannibal, that the advantages he had 
 gained were chiefly owing to his cavalry, who 
 could not act in a siege : that the inhabitants of 
 i Rome were all bred up to arm.s from their infancy ; 
 j would use their utmost efforts in defence of their 
 i wives, their children, and their donie.stic gods ; 
 
 ! and, when sheltered by walls and ramparts, would 
 j probably be invincible : that they had as many 
 generals as senators : that no one nation of Italy 
 had yet declared for him, and he micht judge it 
 necessary to gain some of them before he attempted 
 the capital : and lastly, that if he had attempted 
 the capital fir.st, and without success, he would 
 not have been able to gain any one nation or 
 city. 1 
 
 * This was not the real cause of deferring the 
 festival, but that which Plutarch hints at just 
 after, viz.^ because it was unlawful for persons in 
 mourning to celebrate it ; and at that time there 
 was not one matron in Rome that was not in 
 mourning. In lact, the feast was not entirely 
 omitted, but kept as soon as the mourning was 
 expired. 
 
 t Valerius Maximus tells us (lib. iii. c. 6) that 
 the senate and people offered Varro the dictator- 
 ship, which he refused, and by l.is modest refusal 
 wiped off, in some measure, the shame of his 
 former behaviour. Thus the Romans, by treating 
 their unfortunate commanders with humanity, 
 lessened the disgrace of their being vanquished or 
 discharged ; while the Carthaginians condemned 
 their generals to cruel deaths upon their being 
 overcome, though it was often without their own 
 fault. 
 
138 PL UTARCH LIVES. 
 
 battle, instead of marching to Rome, turned to 
 another part of Italy, they took courage, and sent 
 their armies and generals into the field. The 
 most eminent of these were Fabius Maximus 
 and Claudius Marcel lus, men distinguished by 
 characters almost entirely opposite. Marcellus, 
 (as we have mentioned in his life), was a man of 
 a buoyant and animated valour ; remarkably well 
 skilled in the use of weapons, and naturally enter- 
 prising ; such a one, in short, as Homer calls 
 “ lofty in heart, in courage fierce, in war delight- 
 ing. ” So intrepid a general was very fit to be 
 opposed to an enemy as daring as himself, to 
 restore the courage and spirits of the Romans, by 
 some vigorous stroke in the first engagements. 
 As for Fabius, he kept to his first sentiments, and 
 hoped, that if he only followed Hannibal close, 
 without fighting him, he and his army would 
 wear themselves out, and lose their warlike vigour, 
 just as a wrestler does, who keeps continually in 
 the ring, and allows himself no repose to recruit 
 his strength after excessive fatigues. Hence it 
 was that the Romans (as Posidonius tells us), 
 called Fabius their shield^ and Marcellus their 
 sword, and used to say, that the steadiness and 
 caution of the one, mixed with the vivacity and 
 boldness of the other, made a compound very 
 salutary to Rome. Hannibal, therefore, often 
 meeting Marcellus, whose motions were like 
 those of a torrent, found his forces broken and 
 diminished ; and by Fabius, who moved with a 
 silent but constant stream, he was undermined 
 and insensibly weakened. Such, at length, was 
 the extremity he was reduced to, that he was 
 tired of fighting Marcellus, and afraid of Fabius. 
 And these were the persons he had generally to 
 do with during the remainder of the war, as 
 praetors, consuls, or proconsuls ; for each of them 
 was five times consul. It is true, Marcellus, in 
 his fifth consulate, was drawn into his snares, and 
 killed by means of an ambuscade. Hannibal 
 often made the like attempts upon Fabius, exert- 
 ing all his arts and stratagems, but without effect. 
 Once only he deceived him, and had nearly led 
 him into a fatal error. He forged letters to him, 
 as from the principal inhabitants of Metapontum, 
 offering to deliver up the city to him, and assuring 
 him that those who had taken this resolution, only 
 waited till he appeared before it. Fabius giving 
 credit to these letters, ordered a party to be ready, 
 intending to march thither_ in the night : but 
 finding the auspices unpromising, he altered his 
 design, and soon after discovered that the letters 
 were forged by_an artifice of Hannibal’s, and 
 that he was lying in ambush for him near the 
 town. But this perhaps may be ascribed to the 
 favour and protection of the gods. 
 
 Fabius was persuaded that it was better to keep 
 the cities from revolting, and to prevent any 
 commotions among the allies, by affability and 
 mildness, than to entertain every suspicion, or to 
 use severity against those whom he did suspect. 
 It is reported of him, that being informed, that a 
 certain Marcian in his army,* who was a man 
 not inferior in com*age or family to any among 
 the allies, solicited some of his men to desert, he 
 did not treat him harshly, but acknowledged that 
 he had been too much neglected ; declaring at 
 the same time, that he was now perfectly sensible 
 
 * Livy tells this story of Marcellus, which 
 Plutarch here applies to Fabius. 
 
 how much his officers had been to blame in 
 distributing honours more out of favour than 
 regard to merit : and that for the future he 
 should take it ill if he did not apply to him when 
 he had any request to make. This was followed 
 with a present of a war horse, and with other 
 marks of honour ; and from that time the man 
 behaved with_ great fidelity and zeal for the 
 service. Fabius thought it hard, that, while 
 those who breed dogs and horses soften their 
 stubborn tempers, and bring down their fierce 
 spirits by care and kindness, rather than with 
 whips and chains, he who has the command of 
 men should not endeavour to correct their errors 
 by gentleness and goodness, but treat them even 
 in a harsher and more violent manner than 
 gardeners do the wild fig-trees, wild pears and 
 olives, whose nature they subdue by cultivation, 
 and which by that means they bring to produce 
 very agreeable fruit. 
 
 Another time, some of his officers informed him, 
 that one of the soldiers, a native of Lucania, often 
 quitted his post, and rambled out of the camp. 
 Upon this report, he asked what kind of a man he 
 was in other respects ; and they all declared it 
 was not easy to find so good a soldier, doing him 
 the justice to mention several extraordinary in- 
 stances of his valour. On inquiring into the cause 
 of this irregularity, he found that the man was 
 passionately in love, and that for the sake of 
 seeing a young woman he ventured out of the 
 camp, and took a long and dangerous journey 
 every night. Hereupon Fabius gave orders to 
 some of his men to find out the woman, and 
 convey her into his own tent, but took care that 
 the Lucanian should not know it. Then he sent 
 for him, and taking him aside, spoke to him as 
 follows ; “I very well know, that you have lain 
 many nights out of the camp, in breach of the 
 Roman discipline and laws ; at the same time I 
 am not ignorant of your past services. In con- 
 sideration of them, I forgive your present crime ; 
 but for the future I will give you in charge to a 
 person who shall be answerable for you.” While 
 the soldier stood much amazed, Fabius produced 
 the woman, and putting her in his hands, thus 
 expressed himself ; ‘ ‘ This is the person who 
 engages for you that you will remain in camp ; 
 and now we shall see whether there was not 
 some traitorous design which drew you out, and 
 which you made the love of this woman a cloak 
 for.” Such is the account we have of this affair. 
 
 By means of another love affair, Fabius re- 
 covered the city of Tarentum, which had been 
 treacherously delivered up to Hannibal. A yoirng 
 man, a native of that place, who served under 
 Fabius, had a sister there who loved him with 
 great tenderness. This youth being informed, 
 that a certain Brutian, one of the officers of the 
 garrison which Hannibal had put in Tarentum, 
 entertained a violent passion for his sister, hoped 
 to avail himself of this circumstance to the advan- 
 tage of the Romans. Therefore, with the per- 
 mission of Fabius, he returned to his sister at 
 Tarentum, under colour of having deserted. 
 Some days passed, during which the Brutian 
 forebore his visits, for she supposed that her 
 brother knew nothing of the amour. This obliged 
 the young man to come to an explanation. “It 
 has been currently reported, ”said he, “ that you 
 receive addresses from a man of some distinction. 
 Pray, who is he ? If he is a man of honour and 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 139 
 
 character, as they say he is, Mars, who confounds 
 all things, takes but little thought of what country 
 he may be. What necessity imposes is no dis- 
 grace ; but we may rather think ourselves for- 
 tunate, at a time when justice yields to force, if 
 that which force might compel us to, happens not 
 to be disagreeable to our own inclinations.” Thus 
 encouraged, the young woman sent for the Bru- 
 tian, and presented him to her brother. And as 
 she behaved to him in a kinder and more comply- 
 ing manner through her brother’s means, who was 
 very indulgent to his passion, it was not very 
 difficult to prevail with the Brutian, who was 
 deeply in love, and was withal a mercenary,* to 
 deliver up the town, upon promises of great 
 rewards from Fabius. 
 
 This is the account which most historians give 
 us : yet some say, that the woman by whom the 
 Brutian was gained, was not a Tarentine, but a 
 Brutian ; that she had been concubine to Fabius ; 
 and that when she found the governor of Taren- 
 tum was her countryman and acquaintance, she 
 told Fabius of it, and finding means, by approach- 
 ing the walls, to make him a proposal, she drew 
 him over to the Roman interest. 
 
 During these transactions, Fabius, in order to 
 make a diversion, gave directions to the garrison 
 of Rhegium to lay waste the Brutian territories, 
 and, if_ possible, to make themselves masters of 
 Caulonia. These were a body of 8000 men, com- 
 posed partly of deserters, and partly of the most 
 worthless of that infamous band brought by Mar- 
 cellus out of Sicily,! and therefore the loss of 
 them would not be great, nor much lamented by 
 the Romans. These men he threw out as a bait 
 for Hannibal, and by sacrificing them hoped to 
 draw him to a distance from Tarentum. The 
 design succeeded accordingly : for Hannibal 
 marched with his forces to Caulonia, and Fabius 
 in the mean time laid siege to Tarentum. The 
 sixth day of the siege, the young man having 
 settled the matter with the Brutian officer by 
 means of his sister, and having well observed the 
 place where he kept guard and promised to let in 
 the Romans, went to Fabius by night, and gave 
 him an account of it. The consul moved to the 
 appointed quarter, though not entirely depending 
 upon the promise that the town would be betrayed. 
 There he himself sat still, but at the same time 
 ordered an assault on every other part, both by 
 sea and land. This was put in execution with 
 great noise and tumult, which drew most of the 
 Tarentines that way to assist the garrison and 
 repel the besiegers. Then the Brutian giving 
 Fabius the signal, he scaled the walls and got 
 possession of the town. 
 
 On this occasion Fabius .seems to have indulged 
 a criminal ambition.! For that it might not 
 
 * avOjjoTrov ntaOo<popov . This has been 
 
 mistranslated a 7 nan of a mercertary disposition. 
 The words only import that he was not of Han- 
 nibal’s own troops, but of the mercenaries. 
 Hence all governments should learn to beware 
 how they entrust their towns with garrisons of 
 hired troops and strangers. 
 
 t These men were brought from Sicily, not by 
 Marcellus, but by his colleague Lsevinus. 
 
 ! Livy does not say, that Fabius gave .such 
 orders. He only says, “ There were many Bru- 
 tians slain, either through ignorance, or through 
 the ancient hatred which the Romans bore them. 
 
 appear that the place was betrayed to him, he 
 ordered the Brutians to be put first to the sword. 
 But he failed in his design 5 for the former sus- 
 picion still remained, and he incurred, besides, 
 the reproach of perfidy and inhumanity. Many 
 of the Tarentines also were killed ; 30,000 of them 
 were sold for slaves ; the army had the plunder 
 of the town, and 3000 talents were brought into 
 the public treasury.^ Whilst everything was ran- 
 sacked, and the spoils were heaped before Fabius, 
 it is reported that the officer who took the inven- 
 tory, asked what he would have them do with the 
 gods, meaning the statues and pictures : Fabius 
 answered, * *'Let us leave the Tarentines their 
 angry gods.”* However, he carried away a 
 colossus of Hercules, which he afterwards set up 
 in the Capitol, and near it an equestrian statue of 
 hirnself in brass.! Thus he showed himself in- 
 ferior to Marcellus in his taste for the fine arts, 
 and still more so in mercy and humanity. Mar- 
 cellus in this respect had greatly the advantage, 
 as we have already observed in his life. 
 
 Hannibal had hastened to the relief of Taren- 
 tum, and being within five miles of it, when it 
 was taken, he scrupled not to say publicly, “The 
 Romans, too, have their Hannibal ; for we have 
 lost Tarentum in the same manner that we gained 
 it.” ^ And in private he then first acknowledged 
 to his friends, that he had always thought it diffi- 
 cult, but now saw it was impossible, with the 
 forces he had, to conquer Italy. 
 
 Fabius for this was honoured with a triumph, 
 more splendid than the former, having gloriously 
 maintained the field against Hannibal, and baffled 
 all his schemes with ease, just as an able wrestler 
 disengages himself from the arms of his antagonist, 
 whose grasp no longer retains the same vigour. 
 For Hannibal’s army was now partly enervated 
 with opulence and luxury, and partly impaired 
 and worn with continual action. 
 
 Marcus Livius, who commanded in Tarentum, 
 when it was betrayed to Hannibal retired into the 
 citadel, and held it till the town was retaken by 
 the Romans. This officer beheld with pain the 
 honours conferred upon Fabius, and one day his 
 envy and vanity drew from him this expression in 
 the senate, “ I, not Fabius, was the cause of 
 recovering Tarentum..” “True,” said Fabius, 
 laughing, “for if you had not lost the town, I 
 had never recovered it.” 
 
 Among other honours which the Romans paid 
 to Fabius, they elected his son consul.! When 
 he had entered upon his office, and was settling 
 some point relating to the war, the father, either 
 on account of his age and infirmities, or else to 
 try his son, mounted his horse, to ride up to him. 
 The young consul, seeing him at a distance, would 
 not suffer it, but sent one of the lictors to his 
 father with orders for him to dismount, and to 
 come on foot to the consul, if he had any occasion 
 to apply to_ him. The whole assembly were 
 moved at this, and cast their eyes upon Fabius, 
 
 or because the Romans were desirous that Taren- 
 tum should seem to be taken sword in hand, rather 
 than betrayed to them.” 
 
 * The gods were in the attitude of combatants ; 
 and they appeared to have fought against the 
 Tarentines. 
 
 ! The work of Lysippus. 
 
 ! The son was elected consul four years before 
 the father took Tarentum. 
 
140 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 by their silence and their looks expressing their 
 resentment of the indignity offered to a person of 
 his character. But he instantly alighted, and 
 ran to his son, and embraced him with great 
 tenderness. “My son,” said he, “I applaud 
 your sentiments and your behaviour. You know 
 what a people you command, and have a just 
 sense of the dignity of your office. This was the 
 way that we and gur forefathers took to advance 
 Rome to her present height of glory, always con- 
 sidering the honour and interest of our country 
 before that of our own fathers and children.” 
 
 And indeed it is reported that the great grand- 
 father of our Fabius,* though he was one of the 
 greatest men in Rome, whether we consider his 
 reputation or authority, though he had been five 
 times consul, and had been honoured with several 
 glorious triumphs on account of his success in 
 wars of the last importance, yet condescended to 
 serve as lieutenant to his .son then consul,! in an 
 expedition against the Samnites : and while his 
 son, in the triumph which was decreed him, drove 
 into Rome in a chariot and four, he with others 
 followed him on horseback. Thus, while he had 
 authority over his son, considered as a private 
 man, and while he was, both especially and re- 
 putedly the most considerable member of the 
 commonwealth, yet he gloried in showing his 
 subjection to the laws and to the magistrate. 
 Nor was this the only part of his character that 
 deserves to be admired. 
 
 When Fabius Maximus had the misfortune to 
 lose his son, he bore that loss with great modera- 
 tion, as became a wise man and a good father : 
 and the funeral _ oration,! which on occasion of 
 the deaths of illustrious men is usually pro- 
 nounced by some near kinsman, he delivered him- 
 self ; and having committed it to writing, made it 
 public. 
 
 When Publius Cornelius Scipio, who was sent 
 proconsul into Spa.in, had defeated the Cartha- 
 ginians in many battles, and driven them out of 
 that province ; and when he had, moreover, 
 reduced several towns and nations under the 
 obedience of Rome, on returning loaded with 
 .spoil, he was received with great acclamations 
 and general joy. Being appointed consul, and 
 finding that the people expected something great 
 and striking at his hands, he considered it as an 
 antiquated method and worthy only of the in- 
 activity of an old man, to watch the motions of 
 Hannibal in Italy ; and therefore determined to 
 remove the seat of war from thence into Africa, 
 to fill the enemy’s country with his legions, to 
 extend his ravages far and wide, and to attempt 
 Carthage itself. With this view he exerted all 
 his talents to bring the people into his design. 
 
 * Fabius Rullus. 
 
 t Fabius Gurgus, who had been defeated by 
 the Samnites, and would have been degraded, 
 had not his father promised to attend him in his 
 second expedition as his lieutenant. 
 
 X Cicero, in his treatise on old age, speaks in 
 high terms, both of Fabius and this oration of his ; 
 “ Many extraordinary things have I known in 
 that man, but nothing more admirable than the 
 manner in which he b^ore the death of his son, a 
 person of great merit and of consular dignity. 
 His eulogium is in our hands ; and while we read 
 it, do we not look down on the best of the 
 philosophers? ’ 
 
 But Fabius, on this occasion, filled the city with 
 alarms, as if the commonwealth was going to be 
 brought into the most extreme danger by a rash 
 and indiscreet young man ; in short, he scrupled 
 not to do or say anything he thought likely to 
 dissuade his countrymen from embracing the 
 proposal. With the senate he carried his point.* 
 But the people believed that his oppo.sition to 
 Scipio proceeded either from envy of his success, 
 or from a secret fear that if this young hero 
 should perform some signal exploit, put an end to 
 the war, or even remove it out of Italy, his own 
 slow proceedings through the course of so many 
 years, might be imputed to indolence or timidity. 
 
 To me Fabius seems at first to have opposed 
 the measures o Scipio, from an excess of caution 
 and prudence, and to have really thought the 
 danger attending his project great ; but in the 
 progress of the opposition, I_ think he went too 
 great lengths, misled by ambition and a jealousy 
 of Scipio’s ri.sing glory. For he applied to 
 Crassus, the colleague of Scipio, and endeavoured 
 to persuade him not to yield that province to 
 Scipio, but, if he thought it proper to conduct 
 the war in that manner, to go himself against 
 Carthage.! Nay, he even hindered the rai.sing of 
 money for that expedition : so that Scipio was 
 obliged to find the supplies as he could : and he 
 effected it through his interest with the cities of 
 Hetruria, which were wholly devoted to him.| 
 As for Crassus, he stayed at home, partly induced 
 to it by his disposition, which was mild and 
 peaceful, and partly by the care of religion, 
 which was entrusted to him as high-priest. 
 
 Fabius, therefore, took another method to 
 traverse the design. He endeavoured to prevent 
 the young men who offered to go volunteers from 
 giving in their names, and loudly declared both 
 in the senate and Jortim, that Scipio did not only 
 himself avoid, Hannibal, but intended to carry 
 away with him the remaining strength of Italy, 
 persuading the young men to abandon their 
 parents, their wives, and native city, whilst an 
 unsubdued and potent enemy was still at their 
 doors. With these a.ssertions he so terrified the 
 people, that they allowed Scipio to take with him 
 only the legions that were in Sicily, and 300 
 of those men who had served him with so much 
 fidelity in Spain In this particular Fabius seems 
 to have followed the dictates of his own cautious 
 temper. 
 
 After Scipio was gone over into Africa, an ac- 
 count was soon brought to Rome, of his glorious 
 and wonderful achievements. This account was 
 followed by rich spoils, which confirmed it. 'A 
 Numidian king was taken prise jner ; two camps 
 were burned and destroyed, and in them a vast 
 
 * See the debates in the senate on that occa- 
 sion, in Livy, ab. xxviii. 
 
 ! This Crassus could not do : for being Ponii- 
 fex Maximtis^ it was necessary that he should 
 remain in Italy. 
 
 ! Scipio was empowered to ask of the allies all 
 things necessary for building and equipping^ a 
 new fleet. And many of the provinces and cities 
 voluntarily taxed themselves to furnish him with 
 corn, iron, timber, cloth for sails, etc., so that in 
 forty days after the cutting of the timber, he was 
 in a condition to set sail with a fleet of thirty new 
 galleys, besides the thirty he had before. There 
 went with him about 7000 volunteers. 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 141 
 
 number of men, arms, and horses ; and the Cartha- 
 ginians sent orders to Hannibal to quit his fruitless 
 hopes in Italy, and return home to defend his own 
 country. Whilst every tongue was applauding 
 these exploits of Scipio, Fabius proposed that his 
 successor should be appointed, without any shadow 
 or reason for it, except what this well-known 
 maxim implies, viz. “That it is dangerous to 
 trust affairs of such importance to the fortune of 
 one man, because it is not likely that he will be 
 always successful.” 
 
 ^ By this he offended the people, who now con- 
 sidered him as a captious and envious man ; or as 
 one whose courage and hopes were lost in the 
 dregs of years, and who therefore looked upon 
 Hannibal as much more formidable than he really 
 was. Nay, even when Hannibal embarked his 
 araiy and quitted Italy, Fabius ceased not to 
 disturb the general joy and to damp the spirits of 
 Rome. For he took the liberty to affirm, that the 
 commonwealth was now come to her last and 
 worst trial ; that she had the most reason to dread 
 the efforts of Hannibal when he should arrive in 
 Africa, and attack her sons under the walls of 
 Carthage ; that Scipio would have to do with an 
 army yet warm with the blood of so many Roman 
 generals, dictators, and consuls. The city was 
 alarmed with these declarations, and though the 
 war was removed into Africa, the danger seemed 
 to approach nearer Rome than ever. 
 
 ^ However, soon after, Scipio defeated Hannibal 
 in a pitched battle, pulled down the pride of 
 Carthage and trod it under foot. This afforded 
 the Romans a p easure beyond all their hopes, 
 and restored a firmness to their empire, which had 
 been shaken with so many tempests. But Fabius 
 Maximus did not live to the end of the war, to 
 hear of the overthrow of Hannibal, or to see the 
 prosperity of his country re-established : for about 
 the time that Hannibal left Italy, he fell sick and 
 died. We are assured, that Epaminondas died so 
 poor, that the Thebans buried him at the public 
 charge ; for at his death nothing was found in his 
 house but an iron spit * The expense of Fa.bius's 
 funeral was not indeed defrayed out of the Roman 
 treasury, but every citizen contributed a small 
 piece of money towards it ; not that he died with- 
 out effects, but that they might bury him as the 
 father of the people : and that the honours paid 
 him at his death might be suitable to the dignity 
 of his life. 
 
 * Xylander is of opinion, that the word 
 0/3tMo-^or in this place does not signify a spit but 
 a piece oj money ; and he shows from a passage 
 in the life of Lysander, that money anciently was 
 ; made in a pyramidical form. But he did not 
 : consider that the iron money was not in use at 
 j Thebes, and Plutarch says that this obeliscus was 
 1 of iron. 
 
 PERICLES AND FABIUS MAXIMUS COMPARED. 
 
 ^ucH were the lives of these two persons, so 
 illustrious and worthy of imitation both in their 
 civil and military capacity. We shall first 
 compare their talents for war. And here it strikes 
 us at once, that Pericles came into power at a 
 time when the Athenians were at the height of 
 prosperity, great in themselves, and respectable 
 to their neighbours : so that in the very strength 
 of tne republic, with only common success, he 
 was secure from taking any disgraceful step. 
 But as Fabius came to the helm, when Rome 
 experienced the worst and most mortifying turn 
 of fortune, he had not to p»-eserve the well 
 established prosperity of a flourishing state, but 
 to draw his country from an abyss of misery, and 
 raise it to happiness. Besides, the successes of 
 Cimon, the victories of Myronides and Leocrates, 
 and -the many great achievements of Tolmides, 
 rather furnished occasion to Pericles, during his 
 administration, to entertain the city with feasts 
 and games, than to make new acquisitions, or to 
 defend the old ones by arms. On the other hand, 
 Fabius had the frightful objects before his eyes 
 of defeat, and disgraces, of Roman consuls and 
 generals slain, of lakes, fields, and forests full of 
 the dead carcases of whole armies, and of rivers 
 flowing with blood down to the very sea. In this 
 tottering and decayed condition ot the common- 
 wealth, he was to support it by his councils and 
 his vigour, and to keep it from falling into 
 absolute ruin, to which it was brought so near 
 by the errors of former commanders. 
 
 It may seem, indeed, a less arduous performance 
 to manage the tempers of a people humbled by 
 calamities, and compelled by necessity to listen 
 to reason, than to restrain the wildness and 
 insolence of a city elated with success, and wanton 
 
 with power, such as Athens was when Pericles 
 held the reins of government. But then, un- 
 dauntedly to keep to his first resolutions, and not to 
 be discomposed by the vast weight of misfortunes 
 with which Rome was then oppressed, discovers 
 in_ Fabius an admirable firmness and dignity of 
 mind. 
 
 Against the taking of Samos by Pericles, we 
 may set the retaking of Tarentum by Fabius; 
 and with Euboea we may put in balance the towns 
 of Campania. As for Capua, it was recovered 
 afterwards by the consuls Furius and Appius. 
 Fabius, indeed, gained but one set batile, for 
 which he had his first triumph ; whereas Pericles 
 erected nine trophies for as many victories won 
 by land and sea. But none of the victories of 
 Pericles can be compared with that memorable 
 rescue of Minucius, by which Fabius redeemed 
 him and his whole army from utter destruction : 
 an action truly great, and in which you find at 
 once the bright assemlalage of valour, of prudence 
 and humanity. Nor can Pericles, on the other 
 hand, be said ever to have committed such an 
 error as that of Fabius, when he suff-red himself 
 to be imposed on by Hannibal’s stratagem of the 
 oxen ; let his enemy slip in the night through 
 those straits in which he had been entangled 
 by accident, and where he could not possibly have 
 forced his way out ; and as soon as it was day, 
 saw himseif repulsed by the man who so lately 
 was at his mercy. 
 
 If it is the part of a good general, not only to 
 make a proper use of the present, but also to form 
 the best judgment of things to come, it must be 
 allowed that Pericles both foresaw and foretold 
 what success the Athenians would have in the 
 war, namely, that they would ruin themselves, 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 142 
 
 b}’’ grasping at too much. But it was entirely 
 against the opinion of Fabius, that the Romans 
 sent Scipio into Africa, and yet they were 
 victorious there ; not by the favour of fortune, 
 but by the courage and conduct of their general. 
 So that the misfortunes of his country bore 
 witness to the sagacity of Pericles ; and from the 
 glorious success of the Romans, it appeared that 
 Fabius was utterly mistaken. And, indeed, it is 
 an equal' fault in a commander in chief, to lose 
 an advantage through diffidence, and to fall into 
 danger for want of foresight. For it is the same 
 want of judgment and skill, that sometimes 
 produces too much confidence, and sometimes 
 leaves too little. Thus far concerning their 
 abilities in war. 
 
 And if we consider them in their political 
 capacity, we shall find that the greatest fault 
 laid to the charge of Pericles, was, that he caused 
 the Peloponnesian war, through opposition to the 
 Lacedaemonians, which made him unwilling to 
 give up the least point to them. I do not 
 suppose that Fabius Maximus would have given 
 up any point to the Carthaginians, but that he 
 would generously have run the last risk to main- 
 tain the dignity of Rome. 
 
 The _mild and moderate behaviour of Fabius to 
 Minucius, sets in a very disadvantageous light 
 the_ conduct of Pericles, in his implacable perse- 
 cution of Cimon and Thucydides, valuable men, 
 and friends to the aristocracy, and yet banished 
 by his practices and intrigues. 
 
 Besides, the power of Pericles was much greater 
 than that of Fabius ; and therefore he did not 
 suffer an^'- misfortune to be brought upon Athens 
 by the wrong measures of other generals. 
 Tolmides only carried it against him for attack- 
 
 ing the_ Boeotians, and in doing it, he was defeated 
 and slain. All the rest adhered to his party, and 
 submitted to his opinion, on account of his 
 superior authority, whereas Fabius, whose 
 measures were salutary and safe, as far as they 
 depended upon himself, appears only to have 
 fallen short by his inability to prevent the mis- 
 carriages of others. For the Romans would not 
 have had so many misfortunes to deplore, if the 
 power of Fabius had been as great in Rome, as 
 that of Pericles in Athens. 
 
 As to their liberality and public spirit, Pericles 
 showed it in refusing the sums that were offered 
 him, and Fabius in ransoming his soldiers with 
 his own money. This, indeed, was no great 
 expense, being only about six talents.* But it is 
 not easy to say what a treasure Pericles might 
 have amassed from the allies, and from kings who 
 made their court to him, on account of his great 
 authority; yet no man ever kept himself more 
 free from corruption. 
 
 As for the temples, the public edifices, and 
 other works, with which Pericles adorned Athens, 
 all the structures of that kind in Rome put 
 together, until the times of the Csesars, deserved 
 not to be compared with them, either in the great- 
 ness of the design, or the excellence of the execu- 
 tion. 
 
 * Probably this is an error of the transcribers. 
 For Fabius was to pay 250 drachmas for each 
 prisoner,, and he ransomed 247 ; which would 
 stand him in 61,750 drachmas, that is more than 
 ten talents; a very considerable expense to 
 Fabius, which he could not answer without 
 selling his estate. 
 
 ALCIBIADES. 
 
 T HOSE that have searched into the pedigree of 
 Alcibiades, say, that Eurysaces, the son of Ajax, 
 was founder of the family ; and that by his 
 mother’s side, he was descended from Alcmseon : 
 for Dinomache, his mother, was the daughter of 
 Megacles, _ who was of that line. His father 
 Clinias gained great honour in the sea-fight of 
 Artemisium, where he fought in a galley 
 fitted out at his own expense, and afterwards 
 was slain in the battle of Coronse, where the 
 Boeotians won the day. Pericles and Ariphron, 
 the sons of Xanthippus, and near relations 
 to Alcibiades, were his guardians. It is said 
 (and not without reason), that the affection and 
 attachment of Socrates contributed much to 
 his fame. For Nicias, Demosthenes, Lamachus, 
 Pho^mio, Thrasybulus, Theramenes, were illus- 
 trious persons, and his contemporaries, yet we do 
 not so much as know the name of the mother of 
 either of them ; whereas we know even the nurse 
 of Alcibiades, that she was of Lacedsmon, and 
 that her name was Amycla ; as well as that 
 Zopyrus was his schoolmaster; the one being 
 recorded by Antisthenes, and the other by 
 Plato. 
 
 ^ As to the beauty of Alcibiades, it may be suffi- 
 cient to say, that it retained its charm through 
 the several stages of childhood, youth, and man- 
 hood. ^ For it is not universally true, what 
 Euripides says — 
 
 The very autumn of a form once fine 
 Retains its beauties. 
 
 Yet this was the case of Alcibiades, amongst a ffiw 
 others, by reason of his natural vigour and happy 
 constitution. 
 
 He had a lisping in his speech, which became 
 him, and gave a grace and persuasive turn to his 
 discourse. Aristophanes, in those verses wherein 
 he ridicules Theoras, takes notice, that Alcibiades 
 lisped, for instead of calling him Corax, Raven, 
 he called him Colax, Flatterer; from whence 
 the poet takes occasion to observe, that the term 
 in that lisping pronunciation, too, was very 
 applicable to him. With this agrees the satirical 
 description which Archippus gives of the son of 
 Alcibiades : 
 
 With sauntering step, to imitate his father. 
 
 The vain youth moves ; his loose robe wildly 
 floats ; 
 
 He bends the neck : he lisps. 
 
 _His manners were far from being uniform : nor is 
 it strange, that they varied according to the many 
 vicissitudes and wonderful turns of his lortune. 
 He was naturally a man of strong passions ; but 
 his ruling passion was an ambition to contend 
 and overcome. This appears from what is related 
 of his sayings when a boy. When hard pressed 
 in wrestling, to prevent his being thrown, he bit 
 the hands of his antagonist, who let go his hold, 
 
ALCIBIADES. 143 
 
 and said, You bite, Alcibiades, like a v/oman.” 
 “ No,” says he, “ like a lion.” 
 
 One day, he was playing at dice with other 
 boys, in the street ; and when it came to his turn 
 to throw, a loaded waggon came up. At first he 
 called to the driver to sto*p, because he was to 
 throw in the way over which the waggon was to 
 pass. The rustic disregarding him and driving 
 on, the other boys broke away ; but Alcibia.des 
 threw himself upon his face directly before the 
 waggon, and stretching himself out, bade the 
 fellow drive on if he pleased. Upon this, he was 
 so startled that he stopped his horses, while those 
 that saw it ran up to him with terror. 
 
 In the course of his education, he willingly 
 took the lessons of his other masters, but refused 
 learning to play upon the flute, which he looked 
 upon as a mean art, and unbecoming a gentleman. 
 “ The use of the plectrum upon the lyre,” he 
 would say, “ has nothing in it that disorders the 
 features or form, but a man is hardly to be known 
 by his most intimate friends when he plays upon 
 the flute. Besides, the lyre does not hinder the 
 performer from speaking or accompanying it with 
 a song ; whereas the flute so engages the mouth 
 and the breath, that it leaves no possibility of 
 speaking. Therefore, let the Theban youth pipe, 
 who know not howto discourse ; but we Athenians, 
 acprding to the account of our ancestors, have 
 Minerva for our patroness, and Apollo for our 
 protector, one of whom threw away the flute, and 
 the other stripped off the man’s skin who played 
 upon it."^ Thus, partly by raillery, and partly 
 by argument, Alcibiades kept both himself and 
 others from learning to play upon the flute : for it 
 soon became the talk among the young men of 
 condition, that Alcibiades was right in holding 
 that art in abomination, and ridiculing those that 
 practised it. Thus it lost its place in the number 
 of liberal accomplishments, and was universally 
 exploded. 
 
 In the Invective which Antipho wrote against 
 Alcibiades, one story is, that when a boy he ran 
 away from his guardians to one of his friends 
 named Democrates : and that Ariphron would 
 have had proclamation made for him, had not 
 Pericles diverted him from it, by saying, “ If he 
 is dead, we shall only find him one day the sooner 
 for it ; if he is safe, it will be a reproach to him 
 as long as he lives." Another story is, that he 
 killed one of his servants with a stroke of his 
 stick, in Sibyrtius's place of exercise. But, per- 
 haps, we should not give entire credit to these 
 things, which were professedly written by an 
 enemy, to defame him. 
 
 Many persons of_ rank made their court to 
 Alcibiades, but it is evident that they were 
 charmed and attracted by the beauty of his person. 
 Socrates was the only one whose regards were 
 fixed upon the mind, and bore witness to the 
 young man’s virtue and ingenuity ; the rays of 
 which he could distinguish through his fine form. 
 And fearing lest the pride of riches and high rank, 
 and the crowd of flatterers, both Athenians and 
 strangers, should corrupt him, he used his best 
 endeavours to prevent it, and took care that so 
 hopeful a plant should not lose its fruit and perish 
 in the very flower. If ever fortune so enclosed 
 and fortified a man with what are called her 
 goods, as to render him inaccessible to the inci- 
 
 sion-knife of philosophy, and the searching-probe 
 of free advice, surely it was Alcibiades. From 
 the first he was surrounded with pleasures, and a 
 multitude of admirers determined to say nothing 
 but what they thought would please, and to keep 
 him from all admonition and reproof ; yet, by his 
 native penetration, he distinguished the value of 
 Socrates, and attached himself to him, rejecting 
 the rich and great who sued for his regard. 
 
 With Socrates he soon entered into the closest 
 intimacy ; and finding that he^ did not, like the 
 rest of the unmanly crew, want improper favours, 
 but that he studied to correct the errors of his 
 heart, and to cure him of his empty and foolish 
 arrogance : 
 
 Then his crest fell, and all his pride was gone, 
 
 He droop’d the conquer’d wing. 
 
 In fact, he considered the discipline of Socrates 
 as a provision from heaven for the preservation 
 and benefit^ of youth. Thus despising himself^ 
 admiring his friend, adoring his wisdom, and 
 revering his virtue, he insensibly formed in his 
 heart the image of love, or rather came under the 
 influence of that power, who, as Plato says, se- 
 cures his votaries from vicious love. It surprised 
 all the world to see him constantly sup with 
 Socrates, take with him the exercise of wrestling, 
 lodge in the same tent with him ; while to his 
 other admirers he was reserved and rough. Nay, 
 to some he behaved with great insolence, to 
 Anytus (for instance) the son of Anthemion. 
 Anytus was very fond of him, and happening to 
 make an entertainment for some strangers, he 
 desired Alcibiades to give him his company. 
 Alcibiades would not accept of the invitation, but 
 having drank deep with some of his acquaintance 
 at his own house, he went thither to play some 
 frolic. The frolic was this : He stood at the door 
 of the room where the guests were entertained, 
 and seeing a great number of gold and silver cups 
 upon the table, he ordered his servants to take 
 half of them, and carry them to his own house ; * 
 and then, not vouchsafing so much as to enter 
 into the room himself, as soon as he had done 
 this, he went away. The company resented the 
 affront, and said, he had behaved very rudely 
 and insolently to Anytus. “ Not at all,” said 
 Anytus, “ but rather kindly, since he has left us 
 hair, when he knew it was in his power to take 
 the whole.” 
 
 He behaved in the same manner to his other 
 admirers, except only one stranger. This man 
 (they tell us) was but in indifferent circumstances ; 
 for when he had sold ail, he could make up no 
 more than the sum of 100 staters ; f which he 
 
 * Athenseus says, he did not keep them himself, 
 but having taken them from this man, who was 
 rich, he gave them to Thrasybulus, who was 
 poor. 
 
 t The stater was a coin which weighed four 
 Attic drachmas, and was either of gold or silver. 
 The silver was worth about two shillings and 
 sixpence sterling. The stater daricus, a gold 
 coin, was worth twelve shillings and three-pence 
 halfpenny : but the Attic stater of gold must be 
 worth much more, if we reckon the proportion of 
 gold to silver only at ten to one, as it was then .' 
 whereas now it is about sixteen to one. Dacier, 
 then, is greatly mistaken, when he says the stater 
 here mentioned by Plutarch was worth only forty 
 
 * Marsyas. 
 
144 
 
 PLUTARCH LIVES, 
 
 carried to Alcibiades, and begged of him to accept 
 it. Alcibiades was pleased" at the thing, and 
 smiling, invited him to supper. After a kind 
 reception and entertainment, he gave him the 
 gold again, but required him to be present the 
 next day, when the public revenues were to be 
 offered to farm, and to be sure and be the highest 
 bidder. The man endeavouring to excuse him- 
 self, because the rent would be many talents, 
 Alcibiades, who had a private pique against the 
 old fa; mers, threatened to have him beaten if he 
 refused. Ne.xl morning, therefore, the stranger 
 appeared in the market-place, and offered a talent 
 more than the former rent. The farmers, uneasy 
 and angry at this, called upon him to name his 
 security, supposing that he could not find any. 
 The poor man was indeed much startled and 
 going to retire with shame, when Alcibiades, who 
 stood at some distance, cried out to the magistrates, 
 “ Set down my name ; he is my friend, and 1 will 
 be his security.” When the old farmers of the 
 revenue heard this, they were much perplexed ; 
 for their way was, with the profits of the present 
 year to pay the rent of the preceding ; so that 
 seeing no other way to extricate themselves out 
 of the difficulty, they applied to the stranger in 
 a humble strain, and offered him money. But 
 Alcibiades would not suffer him to take less than 
 a talent, which accordingly was paid. Having 
 done him this service, he told him he might 
 relinquish his bargain. 
 
 Though Socrates had many rivals, yet he kept 
 possession of Alcibiades’s heart by the excellence 
 of his genius and the pathetic turn of his con- 
 versation, which often drew tears from his young 
 companion. And though sometimes he gave 
 Socrates the slip, and was drawn away by his 
 flatterers, who exhausted all the art of pleasure 
 for that purpose, yet the philosopher took care 
 to hunt out his fugitive, who feared and respected 
 none but him ; the rest he held in great contempt. 
 Hence that saying of Cleanthes, Socrates gains 
 Alcibiades by the ear, and leaves to his rivals 
 other parts of his body, with which he scorns to 
 meddle. In fact, Alcibiades was very capable of 
 being led by the allurements of pleasure ; and 
 what Thucydides says concerning his excesses in 
 his way of livdng, gives occasion to believe so. 
 Those who ende voured to corrupt him attacked 
 him on a still weaker side, his vanity and love of 
 distinction, and led him into vast designs and un- 
 seasonable projects, persuading him, that as soon 
 as he should apply himself to the management of 
 public affairs, he would not only eclipse the other 
 generals and orators, but surpass even Pericles 
 himself, in point of reputation as well as interest 
 with the powers of Greece. But as iron, when 
 softened by the fire, is soon hardened again and 
 brought to a proper temper by cold water, so when 
 Alcibiades was enervated by luxury, or swollen 
 with pride, Socrates corrected and brought him 
 to himself by his discourses ; for from them he 
 learned the number of his defects and the imper- 
 fection of his virtue. 
 
 When he was past his childhood, happening to 
 go into a grammar-sen ool, ne asked the inciter 
 for a volume of Homer ; and upon his inaxing 
 answer that he had nothing of Homer’s, i*e gave 
 him a box on tae ear, and so left him. A.iother 
 
 French sols; for Plutarch says expressly, that 
 these staters were of gold. 
 
 schoolmaster telling him 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 correct Homer, might 
 seem to be fit to instruct men.” 
 
 One day wanting to speak to Pericles, he went 
 to his house, and being told there that he was 
 busied in considering how to give in his accounts 
 to the people, and therefore not at leisure; he 
 said, as he went away, he had better consider how 
 to avoid giving in any account at all. 
 
 Whilst he was yet a youth, he made the cam- 
 paign at Potidsea, where Socrates lodged in the 
 same tent with him, and was his companion in 
 every engagement. In the principal battle they 
 both behaved with great gallantry ; but Alcibiades 
 at last falling down wounded, Socrates advanced 
 to defend him, which he did effectually in the 
 sight of the whole army, saving both him and his 
 arms. For this the prize of valour was certainly 
 due to Socrates, yet the generals inclined to give 
 it Alcibiades on account of his quality ; and 
 Socrates, willing to encourage his thirst after true 
 glory, was the first who gave his suffrage for him, 
 and pressed them to adjudge him the crown and 
 the complete suit of armour. On the other hand, 
 at the battle of Delium, where the Athenians were 
 routed,* and Socrates, with a few others, was 
 retreating on toot, Alcibiades observing it, did 
 not pass him, but covered his retreat, and brought 
 him safe off, though the enemy pressed .uriously 
 forward, and killed great numbers of the Athe- 
 nians. But this happened a considerable time 
 after. 
 
 To Hipponicus, the father of Callias, a man re- 
 spectable both for his birth and fortune, Alcibiades 
 one day gave a box on the ear ; not that he had 
 any quarrel with him or was heated by passion, 
 but purely because, in a wanton frolic, he had 
 agreed vvith his companions to do so. The whole 
 city being full of the story of this insolence, and 
 everybody (as it was natural to expect) express- 
 ing some resentment, early next morning Alci- 
 biades went to wait on Hipponicus, knocked at 
 the door, and was admitted. As soon as he came 
 into his presence, he stripped off his garment, and 
 presenting his naked body, desired him to beat 
 and chastise him as he pleased. But instead of 
 that Hipponicus pardoned him, and forgot all his 
 resentment ; nay, some time after, he even gave 
 him his daughter Hipparete in marriage. Some 
 say it was not Hipponicus, but his son Callias, 
 who gave Hipparete to Alcibiades, with ten talents 
 to her portion ; and that when she brought him 
 a child he demanded ten talents more, as if he 
 had taken her on that condition. Though this 
 was but a groundless pretence, yet Callias, appre- 
 hensive of some bad consequence from his artful 
 contrivances, in a full assembly of the people 
 declared, that if he should happen to die without 
 chilaren, Alcibiades should be his heir. 
 
 Hipparete made a prudent and affectionate 
 wife ; but at last growing very uneasy at her 
 husband’s associating with such a number of 
 courtesans, both strangers and Athenians, she 
 
 * Laches, as introduced by Plato, tells us, that 
 if others had done their duty as Socrates did his, 
 the Athenians would not have been defeated in 
 the battle of Delium. That battle was fought 
 the first year of the eighty-ninth olympiad, eight 
 years after the battle of Potidsea. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 14- 
 
 quitted his house and went to her brother’s 
 Alcibiades went on with his debaucheries, ant 
 gave himself no pain about his wife ; but it wa 
 necessary for her, in order to a legal separation 
 to give in a bill of divorce to the archon, and t( 
 appear personally with it ; for the sending of i 
 by another hand would not do. When she camt 
 to do this according to law, Alcibiades rushed in 
 caught her in his arms, and carried her through 
 the market-place to his own house, no one pre 
 suming to oppose him, or to take her from him. 
 From that time she remained with him until her 
 death, which happened not long after, when 
 Alcibiades was upon his voyage to Ephesus. 
 Nor does the violence u.sed, in this case, seem to 
 be contrary to the laws either of society in general, 
 or of that republic in particular. For the law of 
 Athens, in requiring her who wants to be divorced 
 I to appear publicly in person, probably intended 
 to give the hu.sband an opportunity to meet with 
 her and to recover her. 
 
 Alcibiades had a dog of an uncommon size and 
 beauty, which cost him seventy 7 niitce, and yet 
 his tail, which was his principal ornament, he 
 caused to be cut off. Some of his acquaintance 
 found great fault with his acting so strangely, 
 and told him, that all Athens rang with the 
 story of his foolish treatment of the dog : at which 
 he laughed and said, “This is the very thing I 
 wanted ; for I would have the Athenians talk of 
 this, lest they should find something worse to say 
 of me.” 
 
 ^ The first thing that made him popular, and 
 introduced him into the administration, was his 
 distributing of money, not by design, but accident. 
 Seeing one day a great crowd of people as he was 
 walking along, he asked what it meant ; and 
 being informed there was a donative made to the 
 people, he distributed money too, as he went in 
 amongst them. This meeting with great ap- 
 plause, he was so much delighted, that he forgot 
 a quail which he had under his robe,* and the 
 bird, frightened with the noise, flew away. Upon 
 this, the people set up still louder acclamations, 
 and_ many of them assisted him to recover the 
 quail. The man who d.d catch it, and bring it 
 to him, was one Antiochus,t a pilot, for whom he 
 had ever after a particular regard. 
 
 ^ He had great advantages for introducing himself 
 into the mana;?ement of public affairs, from his 
 birth, h s estate, his personal valour, and the 
 number of his friends and relations ; but what he 
 chose above all the rest to recommend himself by 
 to the people, was the charms of his eloquence. 
 That he was a fine speaker the comic writers bear 
 witness ; and so does the prince of orators, in his < 
 oration against Midias,J where he says that 
 
 the most eloquent man of his time. 
 1 And if we believe T. heophrastus, a curious searcher 
 s into antiquity, and more versed in history than 
 the other philosophers, Alcibiades had a oeculiar 
 happine.ss of invention, and readiness of ideas, 
 which eminently distinguished him. But as his 
 care was employed not only upon the matter but 
 the expression, and he had not the greatest facility 
 in the latter, he often hesitated in the midst of a 
 speech, not hitting upon the word he wanted, and 
 stopping until it occurred to him. 
 
 He was famed for his breed of horses and the 
 number of chariots. For no one besides himself, 
 whether private person or king, ever sent seven 
 chariots at one time to the Olympic games. The 
 first, the second, and the fourth prizes, according 
 to Thucydides, or the third, as Euripides relates 
 it, he bore away at once, which exceeds ever>^- 
 thing performed by the mo.sc ambitious in that 
 way. Euripides thus celebrates his success : 
 
 Great son of Clinias, T record thy glory. 
 
 First on the dusty plain 
 The threefold prize to gain : 
 
 What hero boasts thy praise in Grecian story? 
 Twice* does the trumpet’s voice proclaim 
 Aloud the plausive cirque thy honour’d name : 
 Twice on thy brow was seen 
 The peaceful olive’s green, 
 
 The glorious palm of easy purchased fame, t 
 
 The emulation which several Grecian cities ex- 
 pressed, in the presents they made him, gave 
 a still greater lustre to his success. Ephesus 
 provided a magnificent pavilion for him : Chios 
 was at the expense of keeping his horses and 
 beasts for sacrifice ; and Lesbos found him in 
 wine and ever>Thing necessary for the most ele- 
 gant public table. Yet, amidst this success, he 
 escaped not without censure, occasioned either by 
 the malice of his enemies, or by his own miscon- 
 duct. It seems there was at Athens one Diomedes, 
 a man of good character and friend of Alcibiades, 
 who was very desirous of winning a prize at the 
 Olympic games ; and being informed that there 
 
 that he spoke only from common fame, and con- 
 sequently that there was little of Alcibiades’s 
 then extant. We find some remains of his oratory 
 in Thucydides. 
 
 * Alcibiades won the first, second, and third 
 prizes in person ; besides which his chariots won 
 twice in his absence. 
 
 t Antisthenes, a disciple of Socrates, writes, 
 that Chios fed his horses, and Cycious provided 
 his victims. ^ The passage is remarkable, for we 
 learn from it that this was done, not only when 
 Alcibiades went to the Olympic games, but in his 
 warlike expeditions, and even in his travels. 
 “ Whenever,” says he, “ Alcibiades travelled, 
 four cities ministered to him as his handmaids. 
 Ephesus furnished him with tents as sumptuous 
 as those of the Persians ; Chios found provender 
 for his horses ; Cyzicus supplied him with victims 
 and provisions for his table ; and Lesbos with 
 wine and all other necessaries for his hou.sehold.” 
 None but opulent cit es were able to answer such 
 expense : for at the time when Alcibiades won 
 :he three prizes in person at the Olympic games, 
 ifter he had offered a very costly sacrifice to 
 lupiter, he entertained at a magnificent repast 
 hat innumerable company w^hich had assisted at 
 he games. 
 
 * It was the fashion in those days to breed quails. 
 Plato reports, that Socrates having brought Alci- 
 biades to acknowledge, that the way to rise to 
 distinction among the Athenians, was, to study ; 
 to excel the generals of their enemies, replied ; 
 with this severe irony, “No, no iUcibiades ; ; 
 
 your only study is how to sur^/ass Midias in ' 
 the art of breeding quails.” — Plato in i ALcib. 
 
 T The name of the man who caught the quail « 
 would hardly have been mentioned, had not 1 
 Alcibiades afterwards entrusted him with the i 
 command of the fleet in his absence ; when he j 
 took the opportunity to fight, and was beaten. t 
 
 Jit appears from that passage of Demosthenes, t 
 
I4^> 
 
 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 was a chariot to be sold, which belonpd to the 
 city of Argos, where Alcibiades had a strong 
 interest, he persuaded him to buy it for him. 
 Accordingly he did buy it, but kept it for himself 
 leaving Diomedes to vent his rage, and to call 
 gods and men to bear witness of the injustice. 
 For this there seems to have been an action 
 brought against him; and there is extant an 
 oration concerning a chariot, written by 
 in defence of Alcibiades, then a youth ; but there 
 the plaintiff is named Tisius, not Diomedes. 
 
 Alcibiades was very young when he first applied 
 himself to the business of the republic, and yet he 
 soon showed himself superior to the other orators. 
 The persons capable of standing in some degree 
 of competition with him, were Phseax the son ot 
 Erasistratus, and Nicias the son of Niceratus. 
 The latter was advanced in years, and one ot the 
 best generals of his time. The former was but a 
 youth, like himself, just beginning to make his 
 way : for which he had the advantage of high 
 birth: but in other respects, as well as in the art 
 of speaking, was inferior to Alcibiades. He 
 seemed fitter for soliciting and persuading m 
 nrivate, than for stemming the torrent of a public 
 debate ; in short, he was one of those of whom 
 Eupolis says, “True, he can talk, and yet he is 
 no speaker.” There is extant an oration against 
 Alcibiades and Phaeax, in which, amongst other 
 things, it is alleged against Alcibiades, that he 
 used at his table many of the gold and silver 
 vessels provided for the sacred processions, as il 
 they had been bfs own. 
 
 There was at Athens one Hyperbolus, of the 
 ward of Perithois, whom Thucydides makes men- 
 tion of as a very bad man, and who was a constant 
 subiect of ridicule for the comic writers But he 
 was unconcerned at the worst things they could 
 say of him, and being regardless of honour, he 
 wi also insensible of shame. This, though really 
 impudence and folly, is by some people called 
 fortitude and a noble daring. But, though no one 
 liked him, the people nevertheless made use ot 
 him when they wanted to strike at persons in 
 authority. At his instigation, the Athenians 
 were ready to proceed to the ban of osiraasm, by 
 which thev pull down and expel_ such ot the 
 citizens as are distinguished by their dignity and 
 power, therein consulting their envy rather than 
 
 their fear. , . i 
 
 As it was evident, that this sentence was levelled 
 against one of the three, Phseax, Nicias, or Alci- 
 biades, the latter took care to unite the contend- 
 ing parties, and leaguing with Nicias, caused 
 th? ostraas7n to fall upon_ Hyperbolus himself 
 Some say, it was not Nicias, but Ph^a-X, with 
 whom Alcibiades joined interest, and by whose 
 assistance he expelled their common enemy, 
 when he expected nothing less, t ^ile or 
 
 infamous person had ever undergone that punish- 
 ment. So Plato, the comic poet, assures us, thus 
 speaking of Hyperbolus : 
 
 Well had the caitiff earned his banishment. 
 But not by ostracism ; that sentence sacred 
 To dangerous eminence. 
 
 But we have elsewhere given a more full account 
 of what history has delivered down to us concern- 
 ing this matter.* . , , 
 
 Aicibiades was not less disturbed at the great 
 
 * In the lives of Aristides and Nicias. 
 
 esteem in which Nicias was held by the enemies 
 of Athens, than at the respect which the Athe- 
 nians themselves paid him. The rights of hos- 
 pitality had long subsisted between the family of 
 Alcibiades and the Lacedaemonians, and he had 
 taken particular care of such of them as were 
 made prisoners at Pylos ; yet when they found 
 that it was chiefly by the means of Nicias that 
 they obtained a peace and recovered the captives, 
 their regards centred in him. It was a common 
 observation among the Greeks, that Pericles had 
 engaged them in a war, and Nicias had set them 
 free from it ; nay, the peace was even called the 
 Nician peace. Alcibiades was very uneasy at 
 this, and out of envy of Nicias, determined to 
 break the league. . , , , i r 
 
 As soon then as he perceived that the people ot 
 Argos both feared and hated the Spartans, and 
 consequently wanted to get clear of all connection 
 with them, he privately gave them hopes of assist- 
 ance from Athens ; and both by his agents and 
 in person, he encouraged the principal citizens 
 not to entertain any fear, or to give up any point, 
 but to apply to the Athenians, who were almost 
 ready to repent of the peace they had made, and 
 would soon seek occasion to break it. 
 
 But after the Lacedaemonians had eritered into 
 alliance with the Boeotians, and had delivered Pa- 
 nactus to the Athenians, not with its fortifications, 
 as they ought to have done, but quite dismantled, 
 he took the opportunity, while the Athenians 
 were incensed at this proceeding, to inflame them 
 still more. At the same time he raised a clainour 
 against Nicias, alleging things which had a face 
 of probability ; for he reproached him with hav- 
 ino" neglected, when commander in chief, to make 
 that * party prisoners who were left by the enemy 
 in Sphacteria, and with releasing them, when 
 taken by others, to ingratiate himself with the 
 Lacedemonians. He farther asserted, that 
 though Nicias had an intetest with the Lacede- 
 monians, he would not make use of it to pr^ent 
 their entering into the confederacy with the Boeo- 
 tians and Corinthians ; but that when an alliance 
 was offered to the Athenians by any of the 
 Grecian states, he took care to prevent their 
 accepting it, if it were likely to give umbrage to 
 the Lacedaemonians. _ i, * 
 
 Nicias was greatly disconcerted : but at that 
 very juncture it happened that ambassadors from 
 
 - After the Lacedaemonians had lost the fort of 
 Pvlos in Messenia, they left in the isle of bphac- 
 teria, which was opposite that fort, a garrison of 320 
 men, besides Helots, under the command of Epi- 
 tades the son of Molobrus. The Athenians would 
 have sent Nicias, while commander in chief, with 
 a fleet against that island, but he excused Inmselt. 
 Afterwards Cleon, in conjunction with l^emos- 
 thenes, got possession of it, after a long dispute, 
 wherein several of the garrison 
 the rest made prisoners, and sent to Athens. 
 Among those prisoners were 120 Spartans, who 
 by the assistance of Nicias got released. The 
 Lacedaemonians afterwards recovered the fort of 
 Pylos : for Anytus, who was sent with a squadr9n 
 to support it, finding the wind directly against it, 
 returned to Athens ; upon which the peop ^ 
 according to their usual custom, condemned him 
 to die; which sentence, however, he commuted 
 by paying a vast sum of money, being the first 
 who reversed a judgment in that manner. 
 
! ALCIBIADES. ■ 147 
 
 Lacedaemon arrived with moderate proposals, and 
 declared that they had full powers to treat and 
 decide all differences in an equitable way. The 
 senate was satisfied, and next day the people were 
 to be convened : but Alcibiades, dreading the 
 success of that audience, found means to speak 
 with the ambassadors in the mean time ; and thus 
 he addressed them : “ Men of Lacedaemon ! what 
 IS it you are going to do ? Are not you apprised 
 that the behaviour of the senate is always candid 
 and humane to those who apply to it, whereas the 
 people are haughty and expect great concessions ? 
 If you say that you are come with full powers, 
 you will find them intractable and extravagant in 
 their demands. Come, then, retract that impu- 
 dent declaration, and if you desire to keep the 
 Athenians within the bounds of reason, and not 
 to have terms extorted from you, which you 
 cannot approve, treat with them as if you had not 
 a discretionary commission. I will use my best 
 endeayours in favour of the Lacedsemonians.” 
 He confirmed his promise with an oath, and thus 
 drew them over from Nicias to himself. In Alci- 
 biades they now placed an entire confidence, 
 admiring both his understanding and address in 
 business, and regarding him as a very extra- 
 ordinary man. 
 
 Next day the people assembled, and the am- 
 bassadors were introduced. Alcibiades asked 
 then in an obliging manner, what their commission 
 was, and they answered, that they did not come 
 as plenipotentiaries. Then he began to rave and 
 storm, as if he had received an injury, not done 
 one ; and calling them faithless, prevaricating men, 
 who were come neither to do nor to say anything 
 honourable. The senate was incensed ; the people 
 were enraged ; and Nicias, who was ignorant of 
 the deceitful contrivance of Alcibiades, was filled 
 with astonishment and confusion at this change. 
 
 proposals of the ambassadors thus rejected, 
 Alcibiades was declared general, and soon en- 
 gaged the Argives,* the Mantineans, and Eleans, 
 as allies to the Athenians. Nobody commended 
 the manner of this transaction, but the effect was 
 very great, since it divided and embroiled almost 
 all Pe.oponnesus, in one day lifted so many arms 
 against the Lacedaemonians at Mantinea, and 
 removed to so great a distance from Athens the 
 scene of war; by which the Lacedaemonians, if 
 victorious, could gain no great advantage, whereas 
 a miscarriage would have risked the very bein^r 
 of their state. * 
 
 . Soon after this battle at Mantinea,! the prin- 
 cipal officers J of the Argive army attempted to 
 
 abolish the popular government in Argos, and to 
 toke the administration into their own hands. 
 Ihe Lacedemonians espoused the design, and 
 assisted them to carry it into execution. But the 
 people took up arms again, and defeated their new 
 masters ; and Alcibiades coming to their aid 
 made the victory more complete. At the same 
 time he persuaded them to extend their walls 
 dowii to the sea, that they might always be in a 
 .^ndition to receive succours from the Athenians. 
 From Athens he sent them carpenters and masons, 
 exerting himself greatly on this occasion, which 
 tended to increase his personal interest and power, 
 as well as that of his country. He advised the 
 people of Patrse too, to join their city to the sea 
 by long walls. And somebody observing to the 
 Patrensians, that the Athenians would one day 
 swallow them up ; “ Possibly it may be so,” said 
 Alcibiades, “ but they will begin with the feet, 
 and do it by little and little, whereas the Lacedse- 
 monians will begin with the head, and do it all at 
 once. He exhorted the Athenians to assert the 
 empire of the land as well as of the sea ; and was 
 ever putting the young warriors in mind to show 
 u deeds that they remembered the oath 
 
 they had taken in the _ temple of Agraulos. * The 
 oatlr is, that they will consider wheat, barley, 
 vine, and olives, as the bounds of Attica ; by 
 v/hich it is insinuated, that they should endeavour 
 to possess themselves of all lands that are culti- 
 vated and fruitful. 
 
 But these, his great abilities in politics, his elo- 
 quence, his reach of genius, and keenness of 
 apprehension, were tarnished by his luxurious 
 living, his drinking and debauches, his effeminacy 
 of dress, and his insolent profusion. He wore a 
 purple robe with a long train, when he appeared 
 in public. He caused the planks of his galley to 
 be cut away, that he might lie the softer, his bed 
 not being placed upon the boards, but hanging 
 upon girths._ And in the wars he bore a shield 
 of gold, which had none of the usual ensigns t of 
 his country, but m their stead, a Cupid bearing a 
 thundpbolt. ^ The great men of Athens saw his 
 behaviour with uneasiness and indignation, and 
 even dreaded the consequence. They regarded 
 his foreign manners, his profusion, and contempt 
 of the laws, as so many means to make himself 
 
 * Agraulos, one of the daughters of Cecrops. 
 had devoted herself to death for the benefit of her 
 country it has been supposed, therefore, that the 
 oath which the young Athenians took, bound 
 them to do something of that nature, if need 
 should require ; though, as given by Plutarch, it 
 implies only an unjust resolution to extend the 
 Athenian dominions to all lands that were worth 
 seizing. Demosthenes mentions the oath in his 
 oration Defals. legat. but does not explain it. 
 
 t Both cities and private persons had, of old, 
 their ensigns, devices, or arms. Those of the 
 Athenians were commonly Minerva, the owl, or 
 the olive. None but people of figure were allowed 
 to bear any devices ; nor even they, until they 
 had perforrned some action to deserve them ; in 
 the mean time their shields were plain white. 
 Alcibiades, in his device, referred to the beauty 
 of his person and his martial prowess. Mottoes, 
 too, were used. Capaneus, for instance, bore a 
 naked man with a torch in his hand ; the motto 
 this, 1 will burn the city. See more in ^schylus’s 
 tragedy of the Seven Chiefs. 
 
 He concluded a league Vvdth these states for 
 loo years, which Thucydides has inserted at full 
 length in his fifth book ; and by which we learn 
 that the treaties of the ancient Greeks were no 
 less perfect and explicit than ours. Their treaties 
 were of as little consequence too ; for how soon 
 was that broken which the Athenians had made 
 With the Lacedaemonians? 
 
 t That battle was fought near three years after 
 the inclusion of the treaty with Argos, 
 t Those officers availed themselves of the con- 
 sternation the people of Argos were in after the 
 loss of the battle; and the Lacedemonians gladly 
 ^ persuasion that if the 
 o abolished, and an aris- 
 
 Ihn ^ of Sparta) set up in Argos, they 
 
 snould soon be masters there. ^ ^ 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 148 
 
 absolute. And Aristophanes well expresses how 
 the bulk of the people were disposed towards 
 him : 
 
 They love, they hate, but cannot live without 
 
 him. 
 
 And again he satirizes him still more severely by 
 the following allusion : 
 
 Nurse not a lion’s whelp within your walls, 
 
 But if he is brought up there, soothe the brute. . 
 I'he truth is, his prodigious libetality, the 
 games he exhibited, and the other extraordinary 
 instances of his munificence to the people, the 
 ^lory of his ancestors, the beauty of his person, 
 2nd the force of his eloquence, together with his 
 heroic strength, his valour, and experience in war, 
 so gained upon the Athenians, that they connived 
 at his errors, and spoke of them with all imagin- 
 able tenderness, calling them sallies of youth, and 
 good-humoured frolics. Such were his confining 
 Agatharcus the painter,* until he had painted his 
 house, and then dismissing him with a handsome 
 present ; his giving a box on the ear to l aureus, 
 who exhibited games in opposition to him, and 
 vied with him for the preference ; and his taking 
 one of the captive Melian women for his mistress, 
 and bringing up a child he had by her. These 
 were what they called his good-humoured frolics. 
 But surely we cannot bestow that appellation 
 upon the slaughtering of all the males in the isle 
 ot Melos t who had arrived at years of puberty, 
 which was in consequence of a decree that he 
 promoted. Again, when Ahspphon had painted 
 the courtesan Neniea with Alcibiades in her arms, 
 many of the people eagerly crowded to see it, but 
 such of the Athenians as were more advanced m 
 years were much displeased, and considered these 
 as sights fit only for a tyrant’s court, and as 
 in.sults on the laws of Athens. Nor was it ill 
 observed by Archestratus, that Greece could not 
 bear another Alcibiades. \Vhen Timon, famed 
 for his misanthropy, saw Alcibiades, alter having 
 gained his point, conducted home with great 
 honour from the place of assembly, he did not 
 shun him, as he did other men, but went up to 
 him, and shaking him by the hand, thus addressed 
 him, “Go on, my brave boy, and prosper; for 
 your prosperity will bring on the ruin of all this 
 crowd.” This occasioned various reflections; 
 some laughed, some railed, and others were ex- 
 tremely moved at the saying. So various were 
 the judgments formed of Alcibiades, by reason of 
 the inconsistency of his character. 
 
 In the time of Pericles, J the Athenians had a 
 
 * This painter had been familiar with Alci- 
 biades’s mistress. ^ , j •, 
 
 t The isle of Melos, one of the Cyclades, and 
 a colony of Lacedaemon, was attempted by Alcfi- 
 biades, the last year of the nineteenth olympiad, 
 and taken the year following. Thucydides, who 
 has given us an account of_ this slaughter ol 
 the Melians, makes no mention of the decree. 
 Probably he was willing to have the carnage 
 thought the effect of a sudden transport in the 
 soldiery, and not of a cruel and cool resolution 
 of the people of Athens. . 
 
 X Pericles, by his prudence and authority, had 
 restrained this extravagant ambition of the Athe- 
 nians. He died the last year o; the eighty-seventh 
 olympiad, in the third year of the Peloponnesian 
 war. Two y’^ears after this, the Athenians sent 
 
 desire after Sicily, and when he had paid the last 
 debt to nature, they attempted it ; frequently, 
 under pretence of succouring their allies, sending 
 aids of men and money to such of the Sicilians as 
 were attacked by the Syracusans. This was^ a 
 step to greater armaments. But Alcibiades in- 
 flamed this desire to an irresistible degre.e, and 
 persuaded them not to attempt the island in part, 
 and by little and little, but to send a powerful 
 fleet entirely to subdue it. He inspired the people 
 with hopes of great things, and indulged himself 
 in expectations still more lofty : for he did not, 
 like the rest, consider Sicily as the end of his 
 wishes, but rather as an introduction to the 
 mighty expeditions he had conceived. And while 
 Nicias was dissuading the people from the siege 
 of Syracuse, as a business too difficult to succeed 
 in, Alcibiades was dreaming of Carthage and of 
 Libya : and after these were gained, had de.signed 
 to grasp Italy and Peloponne.sus, regarding Sicily 
 as little more than a magazine for provisions and 
 warlike stores. _ _ . • 
 
 The young men immediately entered into his 
 schemes, and listened with great attention to those 
 who under the sanction of age related wonders 
 concerning the intended expeditions ; so that 
 many of them sat whole days in the places of 
 exercise, drawing in the dust the figure of the 
 island and plans of Libya and Carthage. How- 
 ever, we are informed, that Socrates the philoso- 
 pher, and Meton the astrologer, were far from 
 expecting that these wars would turn to the 
 advantage of Athens : the lormer, it should seem, 
 influenced by some prophetic notices with which 
 he vv^as favoured by the genius who attended him, 
 and the latter, either by reasonings which led him 
 to fear what was to come, or else by knowledge 
 with which his art supplied him. Be that as it 
 may, Meton feigned himself mad, and taking a 
 flaming torch, attempted to set his house on fire. 
 Others say, that he made use of no such pretence, 
 but burned down his hou.se in the night, and in 
 the morning went and begged of the people to 
 excuse his son frorn that campaign, that he mi^t 
 be a comfort to him under his misfortune. ^ By 
 this artifice he imposed upon them, and gamed 
 his point. , r 
 
 Nicias was appointed one of the generals muen 
 against his inclination ; for he would have declined 
 the command, if it had been only on account of 
 his having such a colleague. The Athenians, 
 howev'er, thought the war would be better con- 
 ducted, if they did not give free scope to the 
 impetuosity of Alcibiades, but tempered his bold- 
 ness with the prudence of Nicias. For as to the 
 third general, Lamachus, though well advanced 
 
 some ships to Rhegium, which were to go from 
 thence to the succour of the Leontines, who were 
 attacked by the Syracusans. The year following 
 they sent a still greater number; and two years 
 after that, they fitted out another fleet of a greater 
 force than the former ; but the Sicilians having 
 put an end to their divisions, and by the adyice 
 of Hermocrates (whose speech Thucydides, in his 
 fourth book, gives us at larae), having sent back 
 the fleet, the Athenians were so enraged at their 
 generals for not having conquered Sicily, that 
 they banished two of them, Pythodorus and 
 Sophocles, and laid a heavy fine upon Euryme- 
 don. So infatuated were they by their prosperity, 
 that they imagined themselves irresistible. 
 
ALC/BIADES. 
 
 in years, he did not seem to come at all short of 
 Alcibiades in heat and rashness. 
 
 When they came to deliberate about the number 
 of the troops, and the necessary preparations 
 for the armament, Nicias again opposed their 
 measures, and endeavoured to prevent the war. 
 But Alcibiades replying to his arguments, and 
 carrying all before him, the orator Demosthenes 
 proposed a decree, that the generals should have 
 the absolute direction of the war, and of all the 
 preparations for it. When the people had given 
 their assent, and everything was got ready for 
 setting sail, unlucky omens occurred, even on a 
 festival that was celebrated at that time. It was 
 the feast of Adonis ; * the women walked in pro- 
 cession with images, which represented the dead 
 carried out to burial, acting the lamentations, 
 and singing the mournful dirges usual on such 
 occasions. 
 
 Add to this the mutilating and disfiguring of 
 almost all the statues of Mercury,! which hap- 
 pened in one night ; a circumstance which 
 alarmed even those who had long despised things 
 *^^*^ure. It was imputed to the Corinthians, 
 of whom the Syracusans were a colony ; and they 
 were supposed to have done it, in hopes that such 
 a prodigy might induce the Athenians to desist 
 froin the war. But the people paid little regard 
 to this insinuation, or to the discourses of those 
 who said that there was no manner of ill presage 
 m what had happened, and that it was nothing 
 but the wild frolic of a parcel of young fellows, 
 flushed with wine, and bent on some extravagance. 
 Indignation and fear made them take this event 
 not only for a bad omen, but for the consequence 
 ^ aimed at great matters ; and 
 
 therefore both senate and people assembled several 
 times within a few days, and very strictly ex- 
 amined every suspicious circumstance. 
 
 In the mean time, the demagogue Androcles 
 produced some Athenian slaves, and certain 
 sojourners, who accused Alcibiades and his 
 Inends of defacing some other statues, and of 
 mimicking the sacred mysteries in one of their 
 drunken revels : on which occasion, thev said, 
 one Theodorus represented the herald, Polytion 
 the torch-bearer, and Alcioiades the high-priest ; 
 his other companions attending as persons ini- 
 tiated, and therefore called Mystas. Such was 
 deposition of Thessalus the son 
 of Cimon. who accused Alcibiades of impiety 
 towards the goddesses Ceres and Proserpine. 
 
 he people being much provoked at Alcibiades, 
 and Androcle.s, his bitterest enemy, exasperatin<^ 
 them still more, at first he was somewhat discom 
 
 149 
 
 * On the feast of Adonis all the cities put them- 
 selves in mourning ; coffins were exposed at every 
 door , ^ the statues of Venus and Adonis were 
 borne in procession, with certain vessels filled with 
 earth, in which they had raised corn, herbs, and 
 lettuce, and these vessels were called t/ze gardezis 
 of Adonis. After the ceremony was over, the 
 gardezis were thrown into the sea or some river. 
 1 ais festival was celebrated throughout all Greece 
 and Egypt, and among the Jews too, when they 
 degenerated into idolatry, as we learn from 
 Ji/zekiel viii. 14 : “ And behold there sat women 
 weeing for Tammuz,” that is, Adonis. 
 
 t 1 he Athenians had statues of Mercury at the 
 doors of their houses, made of stones of a cubical 
 lorm. 
 
 perceived that the seamen 
 and soldiers too, intended for the Sicilian expedi- 
 tion, were on his side, and heard a body of Argives 
 and Mantineans, consisting of 1000 men, declare 
 that they were willing to cross the seas, and to 
 j ^ foreign war for the sake of 
 
 Alcibiades, but that if any injury were done to 
 him, they would immediately march home again • 
 then he recovered his spirits, and appeared to 
 defend himself. It was now his enemies’ turn to 
 be discouraged, and to fear that the people, on 
 account of the need they had of him, would be 
 favourable in their sentence. To obviate this 
 inconvenience, they persuaded certain orators, 
 who were not reputed to be his enemies, but 
 hated him as heartily as the most professed one, 
 to move it to the people that it was extremely 
 absurd, that a general who was invested with a 
 discretionary power, and a very important com- 
 mand, when the troops were collected, and the 
 allies all ready to sail, should lose time, while 
 they were casting lots for judges, and filling the 
 glasses with water, to measure out the time of his 
 defence. In the name of the god.s, let him sail, 
 and when the war is concluded, be accountable 
 to the laws, which will still be the same. 
 
 Alcibiades easily saw their malicious drift, in 
 wanting to put off the trial, and observed, that it 
 would be an intolerable hard.ship to leave such 
 accusations and calumnies behind him, and be 
 sent out with so important a commission, while he 
 was in suspense as to his own fate. That he 
 ought to suffer death, if he could not clear him- 
 self of the charge ; but if he could prove his 
 mnocence, justice required that he should be set 
 free from ail fear of false accusers, before thev 
 sent hiin against their enemies. But he could 
 not obtain that favour. He was indeed ordered 
 to set sail ; which he accordingly did, together 
 with his colleagues, having near 140 galleys in 
 his company, 5100 heavy-armed soldiers, and 
 about 1300 archers, slingers, and others light- 
 armed ; with suitable provisions and storey 
 Arriving on the coast of Italy, he landed at 
 Rhegiurn, There he gave his opinion as to the 
 manner in which the war should be conducted, 
 and was opposed by Nicias : but as Larnachus 
 agreed with him, he sailed to Sicily, and made 
 himself master of Catana. This was all he per- 
 formed, being soon sent for by the Athenians to 
 take his trial. At first, as we have observed, 
 there was nothing against him but slight sus- 
 picions, and the depositions of slaves and persons 
 who sojourned in Athens. But his enemies took 
 advantage of his absence,- to bring new matter 
 of impeachment, adding to the mutilating of the 
 statues, his sacrilegious behaviour with respect to 
 the mysteries, and alleging that both these crimes 
 flowed from the same source, t a con.spiracy to 
 change the government. All that were accused 
 of being anyways concerned in it, they com- 
 mitted to prison unheard; and they repented 
 exceedingly, that they had not immediately 
 brought Alcibiades to his trial, and got him con- 
 demned upon so heavy a charge. While this 
 
 * The .second year of the eighty-first olympiad, 
 and seventeenth of the Peloponnesian war. 
 
 t They gave out, that he had entered’ into a 
 conspiracy to betray the city to the Lacedse- 
 monians, and that he had persuaded the Argives 
 to undertake something to their prejudice. 
 
PLUTARCH 
 
 fury lasted, every relation, every friend and ac- 
 quaintance of his, was very severely dealt with by 
 the people. 
 
 Thucydides has omitted the names of the ac- 
 cusers, but others mention Dioclides and Teucer. 
 So Phrynichus, the comic poet : 
 
 Good Hermes, pray, beware a fall ; nor break 
 Thy marble nose, lest some false Diocledes, 
 
 Once more his shafts in fatal poison drench. 
 
 Merc. I wilk Nor e’er again shall that in- 
 former, 
 
 Teucer, that faithless stranger, boast from me 
 Rewards for perjury. 
 
 Indeed, no clear or strong evidence was given 
 by the informers. One of them being asked how 
 he could distinguish the faces of those who dis- 
 figured the statues, answered, that he discerned 
 them by the light of the moon ; which was a plain 
 falsity, for it was done at the time of the moon’s 
 change. All persons of understanding exclaimed 
 against such baseness ; but this detection did not 
 in the least pacify the people ; they went on with 
 the same rage and violence with which they had 
 begun, taking informations, and committing all 
 to prison whose names were given in. 
 
 Among those that were then imprisoned, in order 
 to their trial, was the orator Andocides, whom 
 Hellanicus the historian reckons among the 
 descendants of Ulysses. He was thought to be 
 no friend to a popular government, but a favourer 
 of oligarchy. What contributed not a little^ to his 
 being suspected of having some concern in de- 
 facing the Hermce^ was, that the great statue of 
 Mercury, which was placed near his house, being 
 consecrated to that god by the tribe called the 
 iRgeis, was almost the only one amongst the most 
 remai'kable, which was left entire. Therefore, to 
 this day it is called the Hermes of Andocides, and 
 that title universally prevails, though the inscrip- 
 tion does not agree with it. 
 
 It happened, that among those who were im- 
 prisoned on the same account, Andocides con- 
 tracted an acquaintance and friendship with one 
 Timseus ; a man not equal in rank to himself, 
 but of uncommon parts and a daring spirit. He 
 advised Andocides to accuse himself and a few 
 more ; because the decree promised impunity to 
 any one that would confess, and inform, whereas 
 the event of the trial was uncertain to all, and 
 much to be dreaded by such of them as were 
 persons of distinction. He represented that it 
 was better to save his life by a falsity, than to 
 suffer an infamous death as one really guilty of 
 the crime ; and that with respect to the public, it 
 would be an advantage to give up a few persons 
 of dubious character, in order to rescue many 
 good men from an enraged populace. 
 
 Andocides was prevailed upon by these argu- 
 ments of Timseus ; and informing against himself 
 and some others, enjoyed the impunity promised 
 by the decree ; but all the rest whom he named 
 were capitally punished, except a few that fled. 
 Nay, to procure the greater credit to his deposi- 
 tions, he accused even his own servants. 
 
 However, the fury of the people was not so 
 satisfied ; but turning from the persons who had 
 disfigured the Hermae, as if it had reposed awhile 
 only to recover its strength, it fell totally upon 
 Alcibiades. At last they sent the Salaminian 
 galley to fetch him, artfully enough ordering their 
 officer not to use violence, or to lay hold of his 
 
 LIVES, 
 
 person, but to behave to him with civility, and to 
 acquaint him with the people's orders that he 
 should go and take his trial, and clear himself 
 before them. For they were apprehensive of 
 some tumult and mutiny in the army, now it was 
 in an enemy’s country, which Alcibiades, had he 
 been so disposed, might have raised with all the 
 ease in the world. Indeed, the soldiers expressed 
 great uneasiness at his leaving them, and expected 
 that the war would be spun out to a great length 
 by the dilatory counsels of Nicias, when the spur 
 was taken away. Lamachus, indeed, was bold 
 and brave, but he was wanting both in dignity 
 and weight, by reason of his poverty. 
 
 Alcibiades immediately embarked : * the conse- 
 quence of which was, that the Athenians could 
 not take Messena. There were persons in the 
 town ready to betray it, whom Alcibiades perfectly 
 knew, and as he apprised some that were friends 
 to the Syracusans of their intention, the affair 
 miscarried. 
 
 As soon as he arrived at Thurii, he went on 
 shore, and concealing himself there, eluded the 
 search which was made after him. ^ But some 
 person knowing him, and saying, “ Will not you, 
 then, trust your country? ” he answered, “ As to 
 anything else I will trust her ; but with my life I 
 would not trust even my mother, lest she should 
 mistake a black bean for a white one.” After- 
 wards being told that the republic had condemned 
 him to die, he said, “ But I will make them find 
 that I am alive.” 
 
 The information against him ran thus : Thessa- 
 
 lus, the son of Cimon, of the ward of Lacias, ac- 
 cuseth Alcibiades, the son of Clinias, of the ward 
 of Scambonis, of sacrilegiously offending _ the 
 goddesses Ceres and Proserpine, by counterfeiting 
 their mysteries, and showing them to his com- 
 panions in his own house. Wearing such a robe 
 as the high-priest does while he shows the holy 
 things, he called himself high-priest, as he did 
 Polytion torch-bearer, and Theodorus of the 
 ward .of Phygea, herald : and the rest of his com- 
 panions he called persons initiatedp^ brethren 
 of the secret; herein acting contra;ry to the rules 
 and ceremonies established by the Eumolpidse, f 
 the heralds and priests at Eleusis.” As he did not 
 appear,** they condemned him, confiscated his 
 goods, and ordered all the priests and priestesses 
 to denounce an execration against him ; which 
 was denounced accordingly by all but Theno, the 
 daughter of Menon, priestess of the temple of 
 Agraulos, who excused herself, alleging, that she 
 was a priestess for prayer, not for execration. 
 
 While these decrees and sentences were passing 
 against Alcibiades, he was at Argos ; having 
 quitted Thurii, which no longer afforded him a 
 
 * He prudently embarked in a vessel of his 
 own, and not on the Salaminian galley. 
 
 t The Mystce, or persons initiated, were to 
 remain a year under probation, during vrhich 
 time they were to go no further than the vestibule 
 of the temple ; after that term was expired they 
 were called epoptee, and admitted to all the 
 mysteries, except such as were reserved for the 
 priests only. 
 
 I Eumolpus was the first who settled these 
 mysteries of Ceres, for which reason his descend- 
 ants had the care of them after him ; and when 
 his line failed, those who succeeded in the function 
 were, notwithstanding, called Eumolpidse. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 safe asylum, to come into Peloponnesus. Still 
 dreading his enemies, and giving up all hopes of 
 being restored to his country, he sent to Sparta to 
 desire permission to live there under the protection 
 of the public faith, promising to serve that state 
 more effectually, n ^w he was their friend, than he 
 had annoyed them, whilst their enemy. The 
 Spartans granting him a safe conduct, and ex- 
 pressing their readiness to receive him, he went 
 thither with pleasure. One thing he soon effected, 
 which was to procure succours for Syracuse with- 
 out further hesitation or delay, having persuaded 
 them to send Gylippus thither, to take upon him 
 the direction of the war, and to cru.sh the Athenian 
 power in Sicily. Another thing which he per- 
 suaded them to was, to declare war against the 
 Athenians, and to begin its operations on the 
 continent : and the third, which was the most 
 important of all, was to get Decelea fortified ; for 
 this being in the neighbourhood of Athens, was 
 productive of great mischief to that common- 
 wealth.* 
 
 These measures procured Alcibiades the public 
 approbation _ at Sparta, and he was no less ad- 
 mired for his manner of living in private. By 
 conforming to their diet and other austerities, he 
 charmed and captivated the people. When they 
 saw him close shaved, bathing in cold water, 
 feeding on their coarse bread, or eating their 
 black broth, they could hardly believe that such 
 a man had ever kept a cook in his house, seen a 
 perfumer, or worn a robe of Milesian purple. It 
 seems, that amongst his other qualifications, he 
 had the very extraordinary art of engaging the 
 affections of those with whom he conversed, by 
 imitating and adopting their customs and v/ay of 
 living. Nay, he turned himself into all manner 
 of forms with more ease than the chameleon 
 changes his colour. It is not, we are told, in 
 that animal's power to assume a white, but Alci- 
 biades could adapt himself either to good or bad, 
 and did_ not find anything which he attempted 
 impracticable. Thus at Sparta he was all for 
 exercise, frugal in his diet, and severe in his 
 manners. In Asia he was as much for mirth and 
 pleasure, luxury and ease. In Thrace, again, 
 riding and drinking were his favourite amuse- 
 ments : and in the palace of Tissaphernes, the 
 Persian grandee, he outvied the Persians them- 
 selves in pomp and splendour. Not that he 
 could with so much ease change his real manners, 
 or approve in his heart the form which he as- 
 sumed ; but because he knew that his native 
 manners would be unacceptable to those whom 
 he happened to be with, he immediately con- 
 
 formed to the ways and fashions of whatever 
 place he came to. When he was at Lacedsemon, 
 if you regarded only his outside, you would say 
 as the proverb does, “ This is not the son of 
 Achilles, but Achilles himself ; this man has 
 surely been brought up under the eye of Lycur- 
 gus : ” but then if you looked more nearly into 
 his disposition and his actions, you would ex- 
 claim, with Electra in the poet, “ The same weak 
 woman still ! ” * For while King Agis w^as em- 
 ployed in a distant expedition, he corrupted his 
 wife Timsea so effectually, that ‘she was with 
 child by him, and did not pretend to deny it ; 
 and when she was delivered of a son, though in 
 public she called him Leotychidas, yet in her own 
 house she whispered to her female friends and to 
 her servants, that his true name was Alcibiades. 
 To such a degree was the woman transported by 
 her passion. And Alcibiades himself, indulging 
 his vein of mirth, used to say, his motive was not 
 to injure the king, or to satisfy his appetite, but 
 that his offspring might one day sit on the throne 
 of Lacedsemon. Agis had information of these 
 matters from several hands, and he was the more 
 ready to give credit to them, because they agreed 
 with the time. _ Terrified with an earthquake, he 
 had quitted his wife’s chamber, to which he re- 
 turned not for the next ten months : at the end of 
 which Leotychidas being born, he declared the 
 child was not his ; and for this reason he was 
 never suffered to inherit the crown of Sparta. 
 
 After the miscarriage of the Athenians in Sicily, 
 the people of Chios, of Lesbos, and Cyzicum, 
 sent to treat with the Spartans about quitting the 
 interests of Athens, and putting themselves under 
 the protection of Sparta. The Boeotians, on this 
 occasion, solicited for the Lesbians, and Pharna- 
 bazus for the people of Cyzicum ; but at the 
 persuasion of Alcibiades, succours were sent to 
 those of Chios before all others. He likewise 
 pas.sed over into Ionia, and prevailed with almost 
 all that country to revolt, and attending the 
 Lacedmmonian generals in the execution of most 
 of their commissions, he did great prejudice to 
 the Athenians. 
 
 But Agis, who was already his enemy on 
 account of the injury done to his bed, could not 
 endure his glory and prosperity ; for most of the 
 present successes were ascribed to Alcibiades. 
 The great and the ambitious among the Spartans 
 were^ indeed, in general, touched with envy ; and 
 had influence enough with the civil magistrates, 
 to procure orders to be sent to their friends in 
 Ionia to kill him. But timely foreseeing his 
 danger, and cautioned by his fears, in every step 
 he took he still served the Lacedaemonians, taking 
 care all the while not to put himself in their 
 power. Instead of that, he sought the protection 
 of Tissaphernes, one of the grandees of Persia, 
 or lieutenants of the king. With this Persian he 
 .soon attained the highest credit and authority : 
 for him.self a very subtle and insincere man, he 
 admired the art and keenness of Alcibiades. 
 Indeed, by the elegance of his conversation and 
 the charms of his politeness, every man was 
 gained, all hearts were touched. Even those 
 that leared and envied him, were not insensible 
 
 * Agis, king of Sparta, at the bead of a very 
 numerous army of Lacedaemonians, Corinthians, 
 and other nations of Peloponnesus, invaded Attica, 
 and, according to the advice which Alcibiades had 
 given,' seized and fortified Decelea, which stood 
 at an equal distance from Athens and the frontiers 
 of Boeotia, and by means of which the Athenians 
 were now deprived of the profits of the silver 
 mines, of the rents of their lands, and of the suc- 
 cours of thmr neighbours. But the greatest mis- 
 lortUne which happened to the Athenians, from 
 the beginning of the war to this time, was that 
 which befell them this year in Sicily, where they 
 not only lost the conquest they aimed at, together 
 they had so long maintained, 
 but their fleet, their army, and their generals. 
 
 * This is spoken of Hermione, in the Orestes 
 of Euripides, upon her discovering the same vanity 
 and solicitude about her beauty, when advanced 
 in years, that she had when she was young. 
 
152 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 to pleasure in his company ; and while they 
 enjoyed it, their resentment was disarmed. 
 1 issaphernes, in all other cases savage in his 
 temper, and the bitterest enemy that Greece 
 experienced among the Persians, gave himself up, 
 notwithstanding, to the flatteries of Alcibiades, 
 insomuch that he even vied with and exceeded 
 him in address. For of all his gardens, that 
 which excelled in beauty, which was remarkable 
 for the salubrity of its streams and the freshness 
 of its meadows, which was set off with pavilions 
 royally adorned, and retirements finished in the 
 most elegant taste, he distinguished by the name 
 of Alcibiades : and every one continued to give 
 it that appellation. 
 
 Rejecting, therefore, the interests of Lace- 
 dmmon, and fearing that people as treacherous to 
 him, he represented them and their king Agis, in 
 a disadvantageous light, to Tissaphernes. He 
 advised him not to assist them effectually, nor 
 absolutely to ruin the Athenians, but to send his 
 subsidies to Sparta with a sparing hand : that so 
 the two powtis might insensibly weaken and 
 consume eacn other, and both at last be easily 
 subjected to the king. Tissaphernes readily 
 followed his counsels, and it was evident to all 
 the world that he held him in the greatest 
 admiration and esteem ; which made him equally 
 considerable with the Greeks of both parties. 
 The Athenians repented of the sentence they had 
 passed upon him, because they had suffered for 
 it since : and Alcibiades, on his side, was under 
 some fear and concern, lest, if their republic were 
 destroyed, he should fall into the hands of the 
 Lacedaemonians, who hated him. 
 
 At that time, the whole strength of the Athe- 
 nians lay at Samos. With their ships sent out 
 from thence, they recovered some of the towns 
 which had revolted, and others they kept to their 
 duty : and at sea they were in some measure able 
 to make head against their enemies. But they 
 were afraid of Tissaphernes, and the Phcenician 
 fleet of 150 ships, which were said to be coming 
 against them ; for against such a force they could 
 not hope to defend themselves. Alcibiades, 
 apprised of this, privately sent a messenger to the 
 prmc'pal Athenians at Samos, to give them hopes 
 that he would procure them the friendship of 
 Tissaphernes ; not to recommend himself to the 
 people, whom he could not trust ; but to oblige 
 the nobility, if they would but exert their superi- 
 ority, repress the insolence of the commonalty, 
 and taking the government into their own hands, 
 by that means save their country. 
 
 All the officers readily embraced his proposal, 
 except Phrynichus, who was of the ward of 
 Dirades. He alone su.spected, what was really 
 the case, that it was a matter of very little conse- 
 quence to Alcibiades whether an oligarchy or 
 democracy prevailed in Athens ; that it w'as his 
 business to get himself recalled by any means 
 whatever, and that therefore, by his invectives 
 against the people, he wanted only to insinuate 
 himself into the good graces of the nobility. 
 Upon these reasons proceeded the opposition of 
 Phrynichus : but seeing his opinion disregarded 
 and that Alcibiades must certainly become his 
 enemy, he gave secret intelligence to Astyochus, 
 the enemy’s admiral, of the double part which 
 Alcibiades acted, advising him to beware of his 
 designs, and to secure his person. But he knew 
 not that while he was betraying, he was himself | 
 
 betrayed. For Astyochus wanting to make his 
 court to Tissaphernes, informed Alcibiades of 
 the affair, who, he knew, had the ear of that 
 grandee. 
 
 Alcibiades immediately sent proper persons to 
 Samos with an accusation against Phrynichus J 
 who seeing no other resource, as everybody was 
 against him, and expressed great indignation at 
 his behaviour, attempted to cure one evil with 
 another and a greater. For he sent to Astyochus 
 to complain of his revealing his secret, and to 
 offer to deliver up to him the whole Athenian 
 fleet and army. This treason ol Phrynichus, 
 however, did no injury to the Athenians, because 
 it was again betrayed by Astyochus ; for he laid 
 the whole matter before Alcibiades. Phrynichus 
 had the sagacity to foresee, and expect another 
 accusation from Alcibiades, and to be be orehand 
 with him, he himself forewarned the Athenians, 
 that the enemy would endeavour to surprise them, 
 and therefore desired them to be upon their 
 guard, to keep on board their ships, and to 
 fortify their camp. 
 
 While the Athenians were doing this, letters 
 came from Alcibiades again, advising them to 
 beware of Phrynichus, who had undertaken to 
 betray their fleet to the enemy ; but they gave no 
 credit to these despatches, supposing that 
 Alcibiades, who perfectly knew the preparations 
 and intentions of the enemy, abused that know- 
 ledge to the raising of such a calumny against 
 Phrynichus. ^ Yet afterwards, when Phrynichus 
 was stabbed in full assembly by one of Hermon’s 
 soldiers who kept guard that day, the Athenians 
 taking cognizance of the matter, after his death, 
 condemned Phrynichus as guilty of treason, and 
 ordered Hermon and his party to be crowned for 
 despatching a traitor. 
 
 The friends of Alcibiades, who now had a 
 superior interest at Samos, sent Pysander to 
 Athens, to change the form of government, by 
 encouraging the nobility to assume it, and to 
 deprive the people of their power and privileges, 
 as the condition upon which Alcibiades would 
 procure them the friendship and alliance of 
 Tissaphernes. This was the colour of the pretence 
 made use of by those who wanted to introduce an 
 oligarchy. But when that body which were 
 called the Jive thousand., but in fact were only 
 four hundred,"*" had got the power into their 
 hands, they paid but little attention to Alcibiades, 
 and carried on the war but slowly : partly dis- 
 trusting the citizens who did not yet relish the 
 new form of government, and partly hoping that 
 the Lacedsemonians, who were always inclined to 
 favour an oligarchy, would not press them with 
 their usual vigour. 
 
 * It was at first proposed, that only the dregs 
 of the people should lose their authority, which 
 was to be vested in five thousand of the most 
 wealthy, who were for the future to be reputed 
 ihe people. But when Pisander and his associates 
 found the strength of their party, they carried it 
 that the old form of government should be dis- 
 solved, and that five Prytanes should be elected ; 
 that these five should choose a hundred ; that each 
 of the hundred should choose three ; that the 
 four hundred thus elected should become a senate 
 with supreme power, and should consult the five 
 thousand only when and on such matters as they 
 thought fit. 
 
ALCIBIABES, 
 
 153 
 
 Such of the commonalty as were at home, were 
 silent through fear, though much against their 
 will ; for a number of those who had openly op- 
 posed the four hu7idred^ were put to death. But, 
 when they that were at Samos were informed of 
 the affair, they were highly incensed at it, and 
 inclined immediately to set sail for the Pyrseus. 
 In the first place, however, they sent for Alci- 
 biades, and having appointed him their general, 
 ordered him to lead them against the tyrants, and 
 demolish both them and their power. On such 
 an occasion, almost any other man, suddenly 
 exalted by the favour of the multitude, would 
 have thought he must have complied with all 
 their humours, and not have contradicted those in 
 anything, who. from a fugitive and a banished 
 man, had raised him to be commander in chief of 
 such a fleet and army. But he behaved as be- 
 came a great general, and prevented their plung- 
 ing into error through the violence of their rage. 
 This care of his evidently was the saving of the 
 commonwealth. For if they had sailed home as 
 they promised, the enemy would have seized on 
 Ionia immediately, and have gained the Helles- 
 porit and the isla.nds without striking a stroke ; 
 while the Athenians would have been engaged in 
 a civil war, of which Athens itself would have 
 been the seat. All this was prevented chiefly by 
 Alcibiades, who not only tried what arguments 
 would do with the armj’^ in general, and informed 
 them of their danger, but applied to them one by 
 one, using entreaties to some and force to others ; 
 in which he was assisted by the loud harangues of 
 Thrasybulus of the ward of Stira, who attended 
 him through the whole, and had the strongest 
 voice of any man among the Athenians. 
 
 Another great service performed by Alcibiades, 
 was, his undertaking that the Phoenician fleet, 
 which the Lacedaemonians expected from the 
 king of Persia, should either join the Athenians, 
 or at least not act on the enemy’s side. In 
 consequence of this ‘promise, he set out as 
 expeditiously as possible ; and prevailed upon 
 Tissaphernes not to forward the ships, which 
 were already come as far as Aspendus, but to 
 disappoint and deceive the Lacedaemonians. 
 Nevertheless, both sides, and particularly the 
 Lacedaemonians, accused Alcibiades of hindering 
 that fleet from coming to their aid ; for they 
 supposed he had instructed the Persians to leave 
 the Greeks to destroy each other. And, indeed, 
 It was obvious enough, that such a force added to 
 either side, would entirely have deprived the 
 other of the dominion of the sea. ^ 
 
 After this the four h7indred were soon 
 quashed,* the friends of Alcibiades very readily 
 assisting those who were for a democracy. Ani 
 now the people in the city not only wished for 
 him, but commanded him to return : f yet he 
 thought it not best to return with empty hands, or 
 
 * The same year that they were set up, which 
 was the second of the ninety-second olympiad, 
 ihe reader must carefully distinguish this faction 
 hundred from the senate of four hundred 
 established by Solon, which these turned out, the 
 few months they were in power. 
 
 ^ Thucydides does not speak of this arrival of 
 Alcibiades, but probably he did not live to have 
 a clear account of this action, for he died this 
 year._ Xenophon, who continued his history, 
 mentions it. ^ ’ 
 
 without having effected something worthy of note, 
 but instead o being indebted to the compassion 
 and favour of the multitude, to distinguish his 
 appearance by his merit. Parting, therefore, 
 from Samos with a few ships, he cruised on the 
 sea of Cnidus, and about the isle of Coos, where 
 he got intelligence that Mindarus the Spartan 
 admiral, was sailed with his whole fleet towards 
 the Hellespont, to find out the Athenians. This 
 made him hasten to the assistance of the latter, 
 and fortunately enough he arrived with his eigh- 
 teen ships at the very juncture of tinre, when the 
 two fleets having engaged near Abydos, continued 
 the fight from morning until night, one side 
 having the advantage in the right wing, and the 
 other on the left. 
 
 On the appearance of his squadron, both sides 
 entertained a false opinion of the end of his 
 coming ; for the Spartans were encouraged and 
 the Athenians struck with terror. But he soon 
 hoisted the Athenian flag on the admiral galley, 
 and bore down directly upon the Peloponnesians, 
 who now had the advantage, and were urging the 
 pursuit. His vigorous impression put them to 
 flight, and following them close, he drove them 
 ashore, destroying their ships, and killing such of 
 their men as endeavoured to save themselves by 
 swimming ; though Pharnabazus succoured them 
 all he could from the shore, and with an armed 
 force attempted to save their vessels. The con- 
 clusion was, that the Athenians, having taken 
 thirty of the enemy’s ships, and recovered their 
 own, erected a trophy. 
 
 After this glorious success, Alcibiades, am- 
 bitious to show himself as soon as possible to 
 Tissaphernes, prepared presents and other proper 
 acknowledgments for his friendship and hospi- 
 tality, and then went to wait upon him, with a 
 princely train. But he was not welcomed in the 
 manner he expected ; for Tissaphernes, who for 
 some time had been accused by the Lacedae- 
 monians, and was apprehensive that the charge 
 might reach the king’s ear, thought the coming of 
 Alcibiades a very seasonable incident, and there- 
 fore put him under arrest and confined him at 
 Sardis, imagining that injurious proceeding would 
 be a means to clear himself. 
 
 Thirty days after, Alcibiades having by some 
 means or other obtained a horse, escaped from his 
 keepers, and fled to Clazomense : and by way of 
 reverige, he pretended that Tissaphernes privately 
 set him at liberty. From thence he pas.sed to the 
 place where the Athenians were stationed ; and 
 being informed, that Mindarus and Pharnabazus 
 were together at Cyzicum, he showed the troops 
 that it was necessary for them to fight both by sea 
 and land, nay, even to fight with stone walls, 
 if that should be required, in order to come at 
 their enemies ; for, if the victory were not com- 
 plete and universal, they could come at no money. 
 Then he embarked the forces, and sailed to 
 Proconesus, where he ordered them to take the 
 lighter vessels into the middle of the fleet, and to 
 have a particular care that the enemy might not 
 discover that he was coming again^t them. A 
 great and sudden rain which happened to fall at ' 
 that time, together with dreadful thunder and 
 darkness, was of great service in covering his 
 operations. For not only the enemy were ig- 
 norant of his design, but the very Athenians, 
 whom he had ordered in great haste on board, 
 did not presently perceive that he was under sail. 
 
154 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 Soon after the weather cleared up, and the Pelo- 
 ponnesian ships were seen riding at anchor in the 
 road of Cyzicum. Lest, therefore, the enemy 
 should be alarmed at the largeness of his fleet, 
 and save themselves by getting on shore, he di- 
 rected many of the officers to slacken sail and 
 keep out of sight, while he showed himself with 
 forty ships only, and challenged the Lacedae- 
 monians to the combat. The stratagem had its 
 effect ; for despising the small number of galleys 
 which they saw, they immediately weighed anchor 
 and engaged ; but the rest of the Athenian ships 
 coming up during the engagement, the Lacedae- 
 monians were struck with terror and fled. Upon 
 that Alcibiades, with twenty of his best ships 
 breaking through the midst of them, hastened to 
 the shore, and having made a descent, pursued 
 those that fled from the ships, and killed great 
 numbers of them. He likewise defeated Min- 
 darus and Pharnabazus, who came to their suc- 
 cour, Mindarus made a brave resistance and was 
 slain, but Pharnabazus saved himself by flight. 
 
 The Athenians remained masters of the field 
 and of the spoils, and took all the enemy’s ships. 
 Having also possessed themselves of Cyzicum, 
 which was abandoned by Pharnabazus, and de- 
 prived of the assistance of the Peloponnesians, 
 who were almost all cut off, they not only secured 
 the Hellespont, but entirely cleared the sea of the 
 Lacedaemonians. The letter also was intercepted, 
 which, in the laconic style, was to give the Ephori 
 an account of their misfortune. “Our glory is 
 faded. Mindarus is slain. Our soldiers are 
 starving ; and we know not what step to take.” 
 
 On the other hand, Alcibiades’s men were so 
 elated, and took so much upon them, because 
 they had always been victorious, that they would 
 not vouchsafe even to mix with other troops that 
 had been sometimes beaten. It happened not 
 long before, that Thrasyllus having miscarried in 
 his attempt upon Ephesus, the Ephesians erected 
 a trophy of brass in reproach of the Athenians.* 
 The soldiers of Alcibiades, therefore, upbraided 
 those of Thrasyllus with this affair, magnifying 
 themselves and their general, and disdaining to 
 join the others, either in the pjlace of exercise or 
 in the camp. But soon after, when Pharnabazus 
 with a strong body of horse and foot attacked the 
 forces of Thrasyllus who were ravaging the 
 country about Abydos, Alcibiades marched to 
 their assistance, routed the enemy, and, together 
 with Thrasyllus, pursued them until night. Then 
 he admitted Thrasyllus into his company, and 
 with mutual civilities and satisfaction they re- 
 turned to the camp. Next day he erected a 
 trophy, and plundered the province which was 
 under Pharnabazus, without the least opposition. 
 The priest and priestess he made prisoners, among 
 the rest, but soori dismissed them without ransom. 
 From thence he intended to proceed and lay siege 
 to Chalcedon, vffiich had withdrawn its allegiance 
 from the Athenians, and received a Lacedaemonian 
 garrison and governor ; but being informed that 
 the Chalcedonians had collected their cattle and 
 corn, and sent it all to the Bithynians, their 
 
 * Trophies before had been of wood, but the 
 Ephesians erected this of brass, to perpetuate the 
 infamy of the Athenians ; and it was this new and 
 mortifying circumstance with which Alcibiades’s 
 soldiers reproached those of Thrasyllus. Diodor. 
 lib. xiii. 
 
 friends, he led his army to the frontier of the 
 Bithynians, and sent a herald before him to sum- 
 mon them to surrender it. Thej^ dreading his 
 resentment, gave up the booty, and entered into 
 an alliance with him. 
 
 Afterwards he returned to the siege of Chalce- 
 don, and enclosed it with a w'all, which reached 
 from sea to sea. Pharnabazus advanced to raise 
 the siege, and Hippocrates, the governor, sallied 
 out with his whole force to attack the Athenians. 
 But Alcibiades drew up his army so as to engage 
 them both at once, and he defeated them both ; 
 Pharnabazus betaking himself to flight, and 
 Hippocrates being killed, together with the 
 greatest part of his troops. This done, he sailed 
 into the Hellespont, to raise contributions in the 
 towns upon the coast. 
 
 In this voyage he took Selybria : but in the 
 action unnecessarily exposed himself to great 
 danger. The persons who promised to surrender 
 the town to_ him, agreed to give him a signal at 
 midnight with a lighted torch ; but they were 
 obliged to do it before the time, for fear of some 
 one that was in the secret, who suddenly altered 
 his mind. The torch, therefore, being held up 
 before the army was ready, Alcibiades took about 
 thirty men with him, and ran to the walls, having 
 ordered the rest to follow as fast as possible. The 
 gate was opened to him, and twenty of the con- 
 spirators, lightly armed, joining his small com- 
 pany, he advanced with great spirit, but soon 
 perceived the Selybrians, with their weapons in 
 their hands, coming forward to attack him. As 
 to stand and fight promised no sort of success, 
 and he who to that hour had never been defeated, 
 did not choose to fly, he ordered a trumpet to 
 command silence, and proclamation to be made, 
 that the Selybrians should not, under the pain of 
 the Republic’s high displeasure, take up arms 
 against the Athenians. Their inclination to the 
 combat was then immediately damped, partly 
 from a supposition that the* whole Athenian army 
 was within the walls, and partly from the hopes 
 they conceived of coming to tolerable terms. 
 Whilst they were talking together, of this order, 
 the Athenian army came up, and Alcibiades 
 rightly conjecturing that the inclinations of the 
 Selybrians^ were for peace, was afraid of giving 
 the Thracians an opportunity to plunder the 
 town. These last came down in great numbers 
 to serve under him as volunteers, from a par- 
 ticular attachment to his person ; but on this 
 occasion he sent them all out of the town ; and 
 upon the submission of the Selybrians, he saved 
 them from being pillaged, demanding only a sum 
 of money, and leaving a garrison in the place. 
 
 Meantime, the other generals, who carried on 
 the siege of Chalcedon, came to an agreement 
 with Pharnabazus on these conditions ; namely, 
 that a sum of money should be paid them by 
 Pharnabazus ; that the Chalcedonians should re- 
 turn to their allegiance to the republic of Athens ; 
 and that no injury should be done to the province 
 of which Pharnabazus was governor, who under- 
 took that the Athenian ambassadors should be 
 conducted safe to the king. Upon the return of 
 Alcibiades, Pharnabazus desired, that he too 
 would swear to the performance of the articles, 
 but Alcibiades insisted that Pharnabazus should 
 swear first. When the treaty was reciprocally 
 confirmed with an oath, Alcibiades went against 
 Byzantium, which had revolted, and drew a line 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 155 
 
 of circumvall^ion about the city. While he was 
 thus employed, Anaxilaus, Lycurgus, and some 
 others, secretly promised to deliver up the place, 
 on condition that he would keep it from being 
 plundered. Hereupon, he caused it to be reported, 
 that certain weighty and unexpected affairs called 
 him back to Ionia, and in the daytime he set sail 
 with his whole fleet; but returning at night, he 
 himself disembarked with the land forces, and 
 posting them under the walls, he commanded 
 them not to make the least noise. At the same 
 time the ships made for the harbour, and the 
 crews pressing in with loud shouts and great 
 tumult, astonished the Byzantines, who expected 
 no such matter. Thus an opportunity was given 
 to those within the walls, who favoured the Athe- 
 nians, to receive them in great security, while 
 everybody’s attention was engaged upon the har- 
 bour and the ships. 
 
 The affair passed not, however, without blows. 
 For the Peloponnesians, Boeotians, and Megaren- 
 sians, who were at Byzantium, having driven the 
 ships* crews back to their vessels, and perceiving 
 that the Athenian land forces were got intd the 
 town, charged them too with great vigour. The 
 dispute was sharp and the shock great, but victory 
 declared for Alcibiades and Theramenes. The 
 former of these generals commanded the right 
 wing, and the latter the left. About 300 of the 
 enemy, who survived, were taken prisoners. Not 
 one of the Byzantines, after the battle, was either 
 put to death or banished ; for such were the 
 terms on which' the tovvn was given up, that the 
 citizens should be safe in their persons and their 
 goods. 
 
 Hence it was, that when Anaxilaus was tried 
 at Lacedaemon for treason, he made a defence 
 which reflected no disgrace upon his past be- 
 haviour : for he told them, that not being a 
 Lacedaemonian, but a Byzantine ; and seeing not 
 Lacedaemon but Byzantium in danger ; its com- 
 munication with those that might have relieved 
 it stopped ; and the Peloponnesians and Boeotians 
 eating up the provisions that were left, while the 
 Byzantines, with their wives and children, were 
 starving ; he had not betrayed the town to an 
 enemy, but delivered it from calamity and war : 
 herein imitating the worthiest men among the 
 Lacedaemonians, who had no other rule of justice 
 and honour, but by all possible means to serve 
 their country. The Lacedaemonians were so 
 much pleased with this speech, that they acquitted 
 him and all that were concerned with him. 
 
 Alcibiades, by this time, desirous to see his 
 native country, and still more desirous to be seen 
 by his countrymen, after so many glorious 
 victories, set sail with the Athenian fleet, adorned 
 with many shields and other spoils of the enemy ; 
 a great number of ships that he had taken mak- 
 ing up the rear, and the flags of many more which 
 he had destroyed being carried in triumph ; for 
 all of them together were not fewer than 200. 
 But as to what is added, by Duris the Samian, 
 who boasts of his being descended from Alcibiades, 
 that the oars kept time to the flute of Chryso- 
 gonus, who had been victorious in the Pythian 
 games ; that Callipides the tragedian, attired in 
 his buskins, magnificent robes, and other theatri- 
 cal ornaments, gave orders to those who laboured 
 til® admiral galley entered 
 the harbour with a purple sail; as if the whole 
 had been a company who had proceeded from a 
 
 debauch to such a frolic ; these are particulars 
 not mentioned either by Theopompus, Ephorus, 
 or Xenophon. Nor is it probable, that at his 
 return from exile, and after such misfortunes as 
 he had suffered, he would insult the Athenians in 
 that manner. So far from it, that he approached 
 the shore with some fear and caution ; nor did he 
 venture to disembark, until, as he stood upon 
 the deck, he saw his cousin Euryptolemus, with 
 many others of his friends and relations, coming 
 to receive and invite him to land. 
 
 When he v/as landed, the multitude that came 
 out to meet him did not vouchsafe so much as to 
 look upon the other generals, but crowding up to 
 him, hailed him with shouts of joy, conducted 
 him on the way, and such as could approach him 
 crowned him with garlands ; while those that 
 could not cOme up so close viewed him at a 
 distance, and the old men pointed him out to the 
 young. Many tears were mixed with the public 
 joy, and the memory of past misfortunes with 
 the sense of their present success. For they con- 
 cluded that they should not have miscarried in 
 Sicily, or indeed have failed in any of their ex- 
 pectations, if they had left the direction of affairs, 
 and the command of the forces, to Alcibiades ; 
 since now, haying exerted himself in behalf of 
 Athens, when it had almost lost its dominion of 
 the sea, was hardly able to defend its own suburbs, 
 and was moreover harassed with intestine broils, 
 he had raised it from that low and ruinous con- 
 dition, so as not only to restore its maritime 
 power, but to render it victorious everywhere by 
 land. 
 
 The act for recalling him from banishment had 
 been passed at the miotion of Critias the son of 
 Callasschrus,* as appears from his elegies, in 
 which he puts Alcibiades in mind of his ser- 
 vice : 
 
 If you no more in hapless exile mourn. 
 
 The praise is mine. 
 
 The people presently meeting in full assembl}^, 
 Alcibiades came in among them, and having in a 
 pathetic manner bewailed his misfortunes, he very 
 modestly complained of their treatment, ascribing 
 all to his hard fortune, and the influence of some 
 envious demon. He then proceeded to discourse 
 of the hopes and designs of their enemies, against 
 whom he used his utmost endeavours to animate 
 them. And they were so much pleased with his 
 harangue that they crowned him with crowns of 
 gold, and gave him the^ absolute command of 
 their forces both by sea and land. They likewise 
 made a decree, that his estate should be restored 
 to him, and that the Eumolpidae and the heralds 
 should take off the execrations which they had 
 pronounced against him by order of the people. 
 Whilst the rest were employed in expiations for 
 this purpose, Theodorus the high priest said, for 
 his part, he had never denounced any curse 
 
 * This Critias was uncle to Plato’s mother, and 
 the same that he introduces in his dialogues. 
 Though now the friend of Alcibiades, yet as the 
 lust of power destroys all ties, when one of the 
 thirty tyrants, he became his bitter enemy, and 
 sending to Lysander, assured him that Athens 
 would never be quiet, or Sparta safe, until Alci- 
 biades was destroyed. Critias was afterwards 
 slain by Thrasybulus, when he delivered Athens 
 from that tyranny. 
 
156 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 against him, if he had done no injury to the 
 commonwealth. 
 
 Amidst this glory and prosperity of Alcibiades, 
 some people were still uneasy, looking upon the 
 time of his arrival as ominous. For on that very 
 day was kept the plynteria* or purifying of the 
 goddess Minerva. It was the twenty-fifth of 
 May, when the praxiergidse perform those cere- 
 monies which are not to be revealed, disrobing 
 the image and covering it up. Hence it is that 
 the Athenians, of all days, reckon this the most 
 unlucky, and take the most care not to do busi- 
 ness upon it. And it se6ms that the goddess did 
 not receive him graciously, but rather with 
 aversion, since she hid her lace from him. Not- 
 withstanding all this, everything succeeded ac- 
 cording to his wish ; 300 galleys were manned 
 and ready to put to sea again : but a laudable 
 zeal detained him until the celebration of the 
 mysteries.! For after the Lacedaemonians had 
 fortified Decelea, which commanded the roads to 
 Eleusis, the least was not kept with its usual 
 pomp, because they were obliged to conduct the 
 procession by sea ; the sacrifices, the sacred 
 dances, and other ceremonies which had been 
 performed on the way, called holy, while the 
 image of Bacchus was carried in procession, being 
 on that account necessarily omitted. Alcibiades, 
 therefore, judged it would be an act conducive 
 to the honour of the gods, and to his reputation 
 with men, to restore those rites to their due 
 solemnity, by conducting the procession with 
 his army, and guarding it against the enemy. 
 By that means, either king Agis would be 
 humbled, if he suffered it to pass unmolested ; or 
 if he attacked the convoy, Alcibiades would 
 have a fight to maintain in the cause of piety and 
 religion, for the most venerable of its mysteries, 
 in the sight of his country ; and all his fellow- 
 citizens would be witnesses of his valour. 
 
 When he had determined upon this, and 
 communicated his design to the Eujnolpidce and 
 the heralds, he placed sentinels upon the emi- 
 nences and set out his advanced guard as soon 
 as it was light. Next he took the priests, the 
 persons initiated, and those who had the charge 
 of initiating others, and covering them with his 
 forces, led them on in great order and profound 
 silence ; exhibiting in that march a spectacle so 
 august and venerable, that those who did not 
 envy him declared, he had performed not only 
 the office of a general, but of a high priest : not a 
 man of the enemy dared to attack him, and he 
 conducted the procession back in great safety; 
 which both exalted him in his own thoughts, and 
 gave the soldiery such an opinion of him, that 
 they considered themselves as invincible while 
 under his command. And he gained such an 
 influence over the mean and indigent part of the 
 people, that they were passionately desirous to 
 
 * On that day when the statue of Minerva was 
 washed, the temples were encompassed with a 
 cord, to denote that they were shut up, as was 
 customary on all inauspicious days. They 
 carried dried figs in procession, because that 
 was the first fruit which was eaten after acorns. 
 
 t The festival of Ceres and Proserpine con- 
 tinued nine days. On the sixth they carried in 
 procession to Eleusis the statue of Bacchus, 
 whom they supposed to be the son of J upiter and 
 Ceres. 
 
 see him invested with absolute power ; insomuch 
 that some of them applied to him in person, and 
 exhorted him, in order to quash the malignity of 
 envy at once, to abolish the privileges of the 
 people, and the laws, and to quell those bu.sy . 
 spirits who would otherwise be the ruin of the 
 state; for then he might direct affairs and pro- 
 ceed to action, without fear of groundless im- j 
 peachments. . 1 
 
 What opinion he himself had of this proposal we ' 
 know not; but this is certain, that the principal 
 c.tizens were so apprehensive of his aiming at 
 arbitrary power, that they got him to embark as 
 soon as possible ; and the more to expedite the 
 matter, they ordered, among other things, that 
 he should have the choice of his colleagues. Put- 
 ting to sea, therefore, with a fleet of 100 ships, he 
 .sailed to the isle of Andros, where he fought and 
 defeated the Andrians, and such of the Lacedae- 
 monians as assisted him. But yet he did not 
 attack the city, which gave his enemies the first 
 occasion for the charge which they afterwards 
 brought against him. Indeed, if ever man was 
 ruined by a high distinction of character, it was 
 Alcibiades.* For his continual successes had 
 procured such an opinion of his courage and 
 capacity, that when afterwards he happened to 
 fail in what he undertook, it was suspected to be 
 from want of inclination, and no one would believe 
 it was from want of ability ; they thought nothing 
 too hard for him, when he pleased to exert him- 
 self. They hoped also to hear that Chios was 
 taken, and all Ionia reduced, and grew impatient 
 when everything was not despatched as suddenly : 
 as they desired. They never considered the 
 smallness of his supplies, and that having to carry 
 on the war against people who were furnished out 
 of the treasury of a great king, he was often laid 
 under the necessity of leaving h s camp, to go in 
 search of money and provisions for his men. 
 
 This it was that gave rise to the last accusa- 
 tion against him. Lysander the Lacedaemonian 
 admiral, out of the money he received from Cyrus, 
 raised the wages of each mariner from three oboli 
 a day to four, whereas it was with difficulty that 
 Alcibiades paid his men three. The latter, there- 
 fore, went into Caria to raise money, leaving the 
 fleet in charge with Antiochus,! who was an ex- 
 perienced seaman, but rash and inconsiderate. 
 Though he had express orders from Alcibiades to 
 let no provocation from the enemy bring him 
 to hazard an engagement, yet in his contempt of 
 those orders, having taken some troops on board : 
 his own galley and one more, he stood for Ephesus, 
 where the enemy lay, and as he sailed by the 
 heads of their ships, insulted them in the most 
 insufferable manner both by words and actions. 
 Lysander sent out a few ships to pursue him ; but 
 as the whole Athenian fleet came up to assist 
 Antiochus, he drew out the rest of his and gave 
 battle, and gained a complete victory. He slew 
 Antiochus himself, took many ships and men, and 
 
 * It was not altogether the universality of his 
 success that rendered Alcibiades suspected, when 
 he came short of public expectation. The du- 
 plicity of his character is obvious from the whole 
 account of his life. He paid not the least regard 
 to veracity in political matters ; and it is not to 
 be wondered if such principles made him con- 
 tinually obnoxious to the suspicion of the people, 
 t This was he who caught the quail for him. 
 
ALCIBIADES, 157 
 
 erected a trophy. Upon this disagreeable news, 
 Alcibiades returned to Samos, from whence he 
 moved with the whole fleet, to offer Lysander 
 battle. But Lysander, content with the advantage 
 he had gained, did not think proper to accept it. 
 
 Among the enemies which Alcibiades had in the 
 army, Thrasybuius, the son of Thrason, being 
 the most determined, quitted the camp, and went 
 to Athens to impeach him. _ To incense the people 
 again.st him, he declared in full assembly, that 
 Alcibiades had been the ruin of their affairs, and 
 the means of losing their ships, by his insolent 
 and imprudent behaviour in command, and by 
 leaving the direction of everything to persons who 
 had got into credit with him through the great 
 merit of drinking deep and cracking seamen's 
 jokes ; v/hilst he was securely traversing the 
 provinces to raise money, indulging his love of 
 liquor, or abandoning himself to his pleasures 
 w;th the courtesans of Ionia and Abydos ; and 
 this at a time when the enemy was stationed 
 at a small distance from his fleet. It was also 
 objected to him, that he had built a castle in 
 Thrace near the city of Bisanthe, to be made use 
 of as a retreat for himself, as if he either could 
 not, or would not live any longer in his own 
 country. The Athenians giving ear to these 
 accusations, to show their resentment and dislike 
 to him, appointed new commanders of their 
 forces.* 
 
 Alcibiades was no sooner informed of it, than, 
 consulting his own safety, he entirely quitted the 
 Athenian army. And having collected a band of 
 strangers, he made war on his own account against 
 those Thracians who acknowledged no king. The 
 booty he made raised him great sums ; and at 
 the same time he defended the Grecian frontier 
 against the barbarians. 
 
 I’ydeus, Menander, and Adimantus, the new- 
 made generals, being now at .^Ligos Potamos.t 
 with all the ships which the Athenians had left, 
 used to stand out early every morning and offer 
 battle to Lysander, whose station was at Lampas- 
 cus, and then to return and pass the day in a dis- 
 orderly and careless manner, as if they despised 
 their adversary. This seemed to Alcibiades, who 
 was in the neighbourhood, a matter not to be 
 passed over without notice. He therefore went 
 and told the generals, J he thought their station 
 by no means safe in a place where there was 
 neither town nor harbour ; that it was very incon- 
 venient to have their provisions and stores from 
 so distant a place as Sestos ; and extremely 
 dangerous to let their seamen go ashore, and 
 wander, about at their pleasure ; whilst a fleet 
 
 ^ * They appointed ten generals. Xenoph. 
 lib. i. 
 
 + Plutarch passes over almost three years : 
 namely, the twenty-fifth of the Peloponnesian 
 war ; the twenty-sixth, in which the Athenians 
 obtained the victory at Arginusai, and put six of 
 the ten generals to death, upon a slight accusation 
 of their colleague Theramenes ; and almost the 
 whole twenty-seventh, towards the end of which 
 the Athenians sailed to .^gos Potamos, where 
 they received the blow that is spoken of in this 
 place. 
 
 X The officers at the head of the Grecian armies 
 and navy, we sometimes call generals, sometimes 
 admirals, because they commonly commanded 
 both by sea and land. 
 
 was observing them, which was under the orders 
 of one man, and the strictest discipline imagin- 
 able. He, therefore, advised them to remove 
 their station to Sestos. 
 
 The generals, however, gave no attention to 
 what he said ; and Tydeus was so insolent as even 
 to bid him begone, for that they, not he, were 
 now to give orders. Alcibiades, suspecting that 
 there was some treachery in the case, retired, 
 telling his acquaintance, who conducted him out 
 of the camp, that if he had not been insulted in 
 such an insupportable manner by the generals, 
 he would in a few days have obliged the Lacedai- 
 monians, however unwilling, either to come to an 
 action at sea, or else to quit their ships. This to 
 some appeared a vain boast; to others 't seemed 
 not at all improbable, since he might have brought 
 down a number of Thracian archers and cavalry, 
 to attack and harass the Lacedaemonian camp.* 
 
 The event soon showed that he judged right of 
 the errors which the Athenians had committed. 
 For Lysander falling upon them, when they least 
 expected it, eight galleys only escaped,! along 
 with Conon ; the rest, not much short of 200, 
 were taken and carried away, together with 3000 
 prisoners, who were afterwards put to death. And 
 within a short time after Lysander took Athens 
 itself, burned the shipping, and demolished the 
 long walls. 
 
 Alcibiades, alarmed at this success of the 
 Lacedaemonians, who were now masters both at 
 sea and land, retired into Bithynia. Thither he 
 ordered much treasure to be sent, and took large 
 sums with him, but still left more behind in the 
 castle where he had resided. In Bithynia he 
 once more lost great part of his substance, being 
 stripped by the Thracians there ; which deter- 
 mined him to go to Artaxerxes, and entreat his 
 protection. He imagined that the king, upon 
 trial, would find him no less serviceable than 
 Them’stocles had been, and he had a better pre- 
 tence to his patronage ; for he was not going to 
 .solicit the king’s aid against his countrymen, as 
 Themistocles had done, but for his country against 
 its worst enemies. He concluded that Pharna- 
 bazus was most likely to procure him a safe con- 
 duct, and therefore went to him in Phrygia, where 
 he stayed some time, making his court, and re- 
 ceiving marks of respect. 
 
 It was a grief to the Athenians to be deprived 
 of their power and dominion, but when Lysander 
 robbed them also of their liberty, and put their 
 city under the authority of thirty chiefs, they 
 were still more miserably afflicted. Now their 
 affairs were ruined, they perceived with regret 
 the measures which would have saved them, and 
 which they had neglected to make use of ; now 
 they acknowledged their blindness and errors, and 
 looked upon their second quarrel with Alcibiades 
 as the greatest of those errors. They had cast 
 him off without any offence of his : their anger 
 had been grounded upon the ill conduct of his 
 lieutenant in losing a few ships, and their own 
 conduct had been still worse, in depriving the 
 
 * When a fleet remained some time at one 
 part cular station, there was generally a body of 
 land forces, and part of the mariners too encamped 
 upon the shore. 
 
 t There was a ninth ship called Paralus, which 
 escaped, and carried the news of their defeat to 
 Athens. Conon himself retired to Cyprus. 
 
commonwealth of the most excellent and valiant 
 of all its generals. Yet amidst their present 
 misery there was one slight glimpse of hope, that 
 while Alcibiades survived, Athens could not be 
 utterly undone. For he, who before was not 
 content to lead an inactive, though peaceable life, 
 in exile, would not now, if his own affairs were 
 upon any tolerable footing, sit still and see the 
 insolence of the Lacedsemonians, and the madness 
 of the thirty tyrants, without endeavouring at 
 some remedy. Nor was it at all unnatural for 
 the multitude to dream of such relief, since those 
 thirty chiefs themselves were so solicitous to 
 inquire after Alcibiades, and gave so much atten- 
 tion to what he was doing and contriving. 
 
 At last, Critias represented to Lysander, that 
 the Lacedaemonians could never securely enjoy 
 the empire of Greece till the Athenian democracy 
 were absolutely destroyed. And though the 
 Athenians seemed at present to bear an oligarchy 
 with some patience, yet Alcibiades, if he lived, 
 would not suffer them long' to submit to such a 
 kind of government. Lysander, however, could 
 not be prevailed upon by these arguments, until 
 he received private orders from the magistrates 
 of Sparta,* to get Alcibiades despatched ; whether 
 it was that they dreaded his great capacity, and 
 enterprising spirit, or whether it was done in 
 complaisance to king Agis. Lysander then sent 
 to Pharnabazus to desire him to put this order in 
 execution ; and he appointed his brother Maga- 
 cus, and his uncle Susamithres, to manage the 
 affair. 
 
 Alcibiades at that time resided in a small 
 village jn Phrygia, having his mistress Timandra 
 with him. _One^ night he dreamed that he was 
 attired in his mistress’s habit,! andvthat as she 
 held him in her arms, she dressed his head, and 
 painted his face like a woman’s. Others say, he 
 dreamed that Magacus cut off his head and 
 burned his body; and we are told, that it was 
 but a little before his death that he had this vision. 
 Be that as it may, those that were sent to assassi- 
 nate him, not daring to enter his house, sur- 
 rounded it, and set it on fire. As soon as he 
 perceived it, he got together large quantities of 
 clothes and hangings, and threw them upon the 
 
 * The Scytala was sent to him. 
 
 _ t Alcibiades had dreamed that Timandra attired 
 him in her own habit. 
 
 fire to choke it ; then having wrapped his robe 
 about his left hand, and taking his sword in his 
 right, he sallied through the fire, and got safe out 
 before the stuff which he had thrown upon it could 
 catch the flame. At sight of him the barbarians 
 dispersed, not one of them daring to wait for him, 
 or to encounter him hand to hand ; but standing 
 at a distance, they pierced him with their darts 
 and arrows. Thus fell Alcibiades. The barbarians 
 retiring after he was slain, Timandra wrapped 
 the body in her own robes,* and buried it as 
 decently and honourably as her circumstances 
 would allow. 
 
 Timandra is said to have been mother to the 
 famous Lais, commonly called the Coi'inthian, 
 though Lais was brought a captive from Hyccarse, 
 a little town in Sicily. 
 
 Some writers, though they agree as to the 
 manner of Alcibiades’s death, yet differ about the 
 cause. They tell us, that catastrophe is not to be 
 imputed to ^ Pharnabazus, or Lysander, or the 
 Lacedsemonians ; but that Alcibiades having cor- 
 rupted a young woman of a noble family, in that 
 country, and keeping her in his house, her brothers, 
 incensed at the _ injury, set fire, in the night, to 
 the house in which he lived, and upon his break- 
 ing through the flames, killed him in the manner 
 we have related.! 
 
 * She buried him in a town called Melissa ; 
 and we learn from Athenseus (in Deipnosoph.) 
 that the monument remained to his time, for he 
 himself saw it. The emperor Adrian, in memory 
 of so great a man, caused his statue of Persian 
 marble to be set up thereon, and ordered a bull 
 to be sacrificed to him annually. 
 
 _! Ephorus the historian, as he is cited by 
 Diodorus Siculus (lib. xiv.) gives an account of 
 his death, quite different from those recited by 
 Plutarch. He says, that Alcibiades having dis- 
 covered the design of Cyrus the younger to take 
 up arms, informed Pharnabazus of it, and desired 
 that he might carry the news to the king ; but 
 Pharnabazus envying him that honour, sent a 
 confidant of his own, and took all the merit to 
 himself Alcibiades suspecting the matter, went 
 to Paphlagonia, and sought to procure from the 
 governor letters of credence to the king ; which 
 Pharnabazus understanding, hired people to mur- 
 der him. He was slain in the fortieth year of his 
 age. 
 
 CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 The family of the March afforded Rome many 
 illustrious patricians. Of this house was Ancus 
 Marcius, who was grandson to Numa by his 
 daughter ; as were also Publius and Quintus 
 Marcius, who supplied Rome with plenty of the 
 best water. Censorinus, too, who was twice ap- 
 pointed Censor by the people of Rome, and who 
 procur d a law that no man should ever bear 
 that office twice afterwards, had the same pedi- 
 gree.^ 
 
 Caius Marcius, of whom I now write, was 
 brought up by his mother in her widowhood ; and 
 from him it appeared, that the loss of a father, 
 though attended with other disadvantages, is no 
 hindrance to a man’s improving in virtue and 
 attaining to a distinguished excellence ; though 
 
 bad men sometimes allege it as an excuse for their 
 corrupt lives. On the other hand, the same 
 Marcius became witness to the truth of that 
 maxim, that if a generous and noble nature be 
 not thoroughly formed by discipline, it will shoot 
 forth many bad qualities along with the good, as 
 the richest soil, if not cultivated, produces the 
 rankest weeds. His undaunted courage and 
 firmness of mind excited him to many great 
 actions, and carried him through them with 
 honour. But, at the same time, the violence of 
 his passions, his spirit of contention and excessive 
 obstinacy, rendered him untractable and disagree- 
 able in conversation. So that those very persons 
 who saw with admiration his soul unshaken with 
 pleasures, toils, and riches, and allowed him to be 
 
CAmS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS, 159 
 
 possessed of the virtues of temperance, justice, 
 and fortitude, yet in the councils and affairs of 
 state, could not endure his imperious temper, and 
 that savage manner, which was too haughty for a 
 republic. Indeed, there is no other advantage to 
 be had from a liberal education, equal to that of 
 polishing and softening our nature by reason and 
 discipline ; for that produces an evenness of be- 
 haviour, and banishes from our manners all ex- 
 tremes. There is this, however, to be said, that 
 in those times military abilities were deemed by 
 the Romans the highest excellence, insomuch that 
 the term which they use for virtue in general, was 
 applied by them to valour in particular. 
 
 Marcius, for his part, had a more than ordinary 
 inclination for war, and therefore from a child 
 began to handle his weapons. As he thought 
 that artificial arms avail but little, unless those 
 with which nature has supplied us be well im- 
 proved and kept ready for use, he so prepared 
 himself by exercise for every kind of combat, that 
 while his limbs were active and nimble enough for 
 pursuing, such was his force and weight in wrest- 
 ling and in grappling with the enemy, that none 
 could easily get clear of him. Those therefore 
 that had any contest with him for the prize of 
 courage and valour, though they failed of success, 
 flattered themselves with imputing it to his invin- 
 cible strength, which nothing could resist or 
 fatigue. 
 
 He made his first campaign when he was very 
 young,* when Tarquin, who had reigned in Rome, 
 was driven from the throne, and after many 
 battles, fought with bad success, was now ventur- 
 ing all upon the last throw. Most of the people 
 of Latium, and many other states jof Italy, were 
 now assisting and marching towards Rome, to re- 
 establish him, not through any regard they had 
 for Tarquin, but for ear and envy of the Romans, 
 whose grov/ing greatness they were desirous, to 
 check. A battle ensued, with various turns of 
 fortune. Marcius distinguished himself that day 
 in sight of the dictator ; for seeing a Roman 
 pushed down at a small distance from him, he 
 hastened to his help, and standing before him, he 
 engaged his adversa^ and slew him. When the 
 dispute was decided in favour of the Romans, the 
 general presented Marcius, among the first, with 
 an oaken crown, f This is the reward which their 
 custom assigns to the man who saves the life of a 
 citizen ; either because they honoured the oak for 
 the sake of the Arcadians, whom the oracle called 
 acorn eaters ; or because an oaken branch is 
 most easy to be had, be the scene o: action where 
 it will ; or because they think it most suitable to 
 take a crown for him who is the means of saving 
 a citizen, from the tree which is sacred to Jupiter, 
 the protector of cities. Besides, the oak bears 
 
 * In the first year of the seventy-first olympiad, 
 the two hundred and fifty-eighth of Rome, four 
 hundred and ninety-third before the Christian era. 
 
 t The civic crown was the foundation of many 
 privileges. He who had once obtained it, had a 
 right to wear it always. When he appeared at 
 the public spectacles, the senators rose up to do 
 him honour. He was placed near their bench ; 
 and his father, and grandfather by the father’s 
 side, were entitled to the same privileges. Here 
 was an encouragement to merit, which cost the 
 public nothing, and yet was productive of many 
 great effects. 
 
 more and fairer fruit than any tree that grows 
 wild, and is the strongest of those that are culti- 
 vated in plantations. It afforded the first ages 
 both food and drink by its acorns and honey ; 
 and supplied men with birds and other creatures 
 for dainties, as it produced the mistletoe, of 
 which birdlime is made.* 
 
 Castor and Pollux are said to have appeared in 
 that battle, and, with their horses dropping sweat, 
 to have been seen soon after in the forujn^ an- 
 nouncing the victory near the fountain, where the 
 temple now stands. Hence also it is said, that 
 the fifteenth of July,! being the day on w’hich 
 that victory was gained, is consecrated to those 
 sons of Jupiter. 
 
 It generally happens, that when men of small 
 ambition are very early distinguished by the voice 
 of fame, their thirst of honour is soon quenched 
 and their desires satiated ; whereas deep and 
 solid minds are improved and brightened by 
 marks of distinction, which serve, as a brisk gale, 
 to drive them forward in the pursuit of glory. 
 They do not so much think that they have re- 
 ceived a reward, as that they have given a pledge, 
 which would make them blush to fall short of the 
 expectations of the public, and therefore they 
 endeavour by their actions to exceed them. Mar- 
 cius had a soul of this frame. He was always 
 endeavouring to excel himself, and meditating 
 some exploit which might set him in a new light, 
 adding achievement to achievement, and spoils to 
 spoils ; therefore, the latter generals under whom 
 he served, were always striving to outdo the 
 former in the honours they paid him, and in the 
 tokens of their esteem. The Romans at that 
 time were engaged in several wars, and fought 
 many battles, and there was not one that ISIarcius 
 returned from without some honorary crown, 
 some ennobling distinction. The end which 
 others proposed in their acts of valour was glory : 
 but he pursued glory because the acquisition of 
 it delighted his mother. For when she was 
 witness to the applauses he received, when she 
 saw him crowned, when she embraced him with 
 tears of joy, then it was that he reckoned himself 
 at the height of honour and felicity. Epaminon- 
 das (they tell us) had the same sentiments, and 
 declared it the chief happiness of his life, that his 
 father and mother lived to see the generalship he 
 exerted and the victory he won at Leuctra. He 
 had the satisfaction, indeed, to see both his 
 parents rejoice in his success, and partake of his 
 good fortune ; but only the mother of Marcius, 
 Volumnia, was living, and therefore holding him- 
 self obliged to pay her all that duty which would 
 have belonged to his father, over and above what 
 was due to herself, he thought he could never 
 sufficiently express his tenderness and respect. 
 He even married in compliance with her desire 
 and request, and after his wife had borne him 
 children, still lived in the same house with his 
 mother. 
 
 At the time when the reputation and interest 
 
 * It does not anywhere appear that the ancients 
 made use of the oak in ship-building : how much 
 nobler an encomium might an English historian 
 afford that tree than Plutarch has been able to 
 give it ! 
 
 t By the great disorder of the Roman calendar, 
 the fifteenth of July then fell upon the twenty- 
 ffiurth of our October. 
 
i6o PLUTARCH^S LIVES, 
 
 which his virtue had procured him in Rome was 
 very great, the senate, taking the part of the 
 richer sort of citizens, were at variance with the 
 common people, who were used by their creditors 
 with intolerable cruelty. Those that had some- 
 thing considerable were stripped of their goods, 
 which were either detained for security, or sold ; 
 and those that had nothing were dragged into 
 prison, and there bound with fetters, though their 
 bodies were full of wounds, and worn out with 
 fighting for their country. The last expedition 
 they were engaged in was against the Sabines, on 
 which occasion their r ch creditors promised to 
 treat them with more lenity, and in pursuance of 
 a decree of the senate, M. Valerius the consul was 
 guarantee of that promise. But when they had 
 cheerfullj undergone the fatigues of that war, and 
 were retilrned victorious, and yet found that the 
 usurers made them no abatement, and that the 
 senate pretended to remember nothing of that 
 agreement, but without any sort of concern saw 
 them dragged to prison, and their goods seized 
 upon as formerly, then they filled the city with 
 tumult and sedition. 
 
 The enemy, apprised of these intestine broils, 
 invaded the Roman territories, and laid them 
 waste with fire and sword. And when the consuls 
 called upon such as were able to bear arms to 
 give in their names, not a man took any notice of 
 it. Something was then to be done ; but the 
 magistrates differed in their opinions. Some 
 thought The poor should have a little indulgence, 
 and that the extreme rigour of the law ought to 
 be softened. Others declared absolutely against 
 that proposal, and particularly Marcius. Not 
 that he thought the money a matter of great con- 
 sequence, but he considered this specimen of the 
 people’s insolence as an attempt to subvert the 
 laws, and the forerunner of farther disorders, 
 which it became a wise government timely to 
 restrain and suppress. 
 
 The senate assembled several times within the 
 space of a few days, and debated this point ; but 
 as they came p no conclusion, on a sudden the 
 commonalty rose one and all, and encouraging 
 each other, they left the city, and withdrew to 
 the hill now called Sacred^ near the river Anio, 
 but without committing any violence or other act 
 of sedition. Onlyas they went along, they loudly 
 complained, that it was now a great while since 
 the rich had driven them from their habitations ; 
 that Italy would anywhere supply them with air 
 and water, and a place of burial ; and that Rome, 
 if they stayed in it, would afford them no other 
 privilege, unless it were such, to bleed and die 
 in fighting for their wealthy oppressors. 
 
 The senate was then alarmed, and frorn the 
 oldest men of their body selected the most 
 moderate and popular to treat wi'h the people. 
 At the head of them was Menenius Agrippa, who, 
 after much entreaty addressed to them, and many 
 arguments in defence of the senate, concluded 
 his discourse with this celebrated fable: “The 
 members of the human body once mutinied against 
 the belly, and accused it of lying idle and useless, 
 while they were all labouring and toiling to satisfy 
 its appetites ; but the belly only laughed at their 
 simplicity, who knew not that though it received 
 all the nourishment into itself, it prepared and ■ 
 distributed it again to all parts of the body. Just 
 so, my fellow-citizens,” said he, “stands the ca.se 
 between the senate and you. For their necessary 
 
 counsels, and acts of government, are productive 
 of advantage to you all, and distribute their 
 salutary influence amongst the whole people.” 
 
 After this they were reconciled to the senate, 
 having demanded and obtained the privilege of 
 appointing five men,* to defend their rights on 
 all occasions. These are called tribunes of the 
 people. The first that were elected, were Junius 
 Brutus, t and Sicinius Vellutus, the leaders of the 
 secession. When the breach was thus made up, 
 the plebeians .soon came to be enrolled as soldiers, 
 and readily obeyed the orders of the consuls 
 relative to the war. As for Marcius, though he 
 was far from being pleased at the advantages 
 which the people had gained, as it was a lessening 
 of the authority of the patricians, and though he 
 found a considerable part of the nobility of his 
 opinion, yet he exhorted them not to be backward 
 wherever the interest of their country was con- 
 cerned, but to show themselves superior to the 
 commonalty rather in virtue than in power. 
 
 Corioli was the capital of the country of the 
 Volscians, with whom the Romans were at "war. 
 And as it was besieged by the consul Cominius, 
 the rest of the Volscians were much alarmed ; and 
 assembled to succour it, intending to give the 
 Romans battle under the walls, and to attack 
 them on both sides. But after Cominius had 
 divided his forces, and with part went to meet the 
 Volsciaris without, who were marching against 
 him, leaving Titus Lartius, an illustrious^ Roman, 
 with the other part, to carry on the siege, the 
 inhabitants of Corioli despised the body that were 
 left, and sallied out to fight them. The Romans 
 at first were obliged to give ground, and were 
 driven to their entrenchments. But Marcius with 
 a smair party flew to their assistance, killed the 
 foremost of the enemy, and stopping the rest in 
 their career, with a loud voice called the Romans 
 back. For he was (what Cato wanted a soldier 
 to- be) not only dreadful for the thunder of his 
 arm, but of voice too, and had an aspect which 
 struck his adversaries with terror and dismay. 
 Many Romans then crowding about hirn, and 
 being ready to second him, the enemy retired in 
 confusion. Nor was he satisfied with making 
 them retire ; he pressed hard upon their rear, and 
 pursued them quite up to the gates. There he 
 perceived that his men discontinued the pur.suit, 
 by reason of the shower of arrows which fell from 
 the walls, and that none of them had any thoughts 
 of rushing along with the fugitives into the city, 
 
 * The tribunes were at first five in number ; 
 but a few years after five more were added. 
 Before the people left the Mans Sacer, they 
 passed a law, by which the persons of the tribunes 
 were made sacred. Their sole function was to 
 interpo.se in all grievances offered the plebeians 
 by their superiors. This interposing was called 
 intercession and was performed by standing up 
 and pronouncing the single word Veto, I forbid 
 it. They had their seats placed at the door of 
 the senate, and were never admitted into it, 
 but when the consuls called them to a.sk their 
 opinion upon some affair that concerned the 
 interests of the people. 
 
 t The name of this tribune was Lucius Junius, 
 and because Lucius Junius Brutus was famed for 
 delivering his country from the tyrannic yoke of 
 the kings, he also assumed the surname of Brutus, 
 which exposed him to a great deal of ridicule. 
 
CA/aS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS, 
 
 i6i 
 
 which was filled with warlike people, who were 
 all under arms ; nevertheless, he exhorted and 
 encouraged them to press forward, crying out, 
 that fortune had opened the gates rather to the 
 victors than to the vanquished. But as few were 
 willing to follow him, he broke through the enemy, 
 and pushed into the town with the crowd, no one 
 at first daring to oppose him, or even to look him 
 in the face. But when he cast his eyes around, 
 and saw so small a number within the walls, whose 
 service he could make use of in that dangerous 
 enterprise, and that friends and foes were mixed 
 together, he summoned all his force, and performed 
 the most incredible exploits, whether you consider 
 his heroic strength, his amazing agility, or his 
 bold and daring spirit ; for he overpowered all 
 that were in his way, forcing some to seek refuge 
 in the farthest corners of the town, and others to 
 give out and throw down their arms ; which 
 afforded Lartius an opportunity to bring in the 
 rest of the Romans unmolested. 
 
 The city thus taken, most of the soldiers fell to 
 plundering, which Marcius highly resented ; cry- 
 ing out, that it was a shame for them to run about 
 after plunder, or, under pretence of collecting the 
 spoils, to get out of the way of danger, while the 
 consul and the Romans under his command were, 
 perhaps, engaged with the enemy. As there were 
 not many that listened to what he said, he put 
 himself at the head of such as offered to follow 
 him, and took the route which he knew would 
 lead him to the consul’s army ; sometimes press- 
 ing his small party to hasten their march, and 
 conjuring them not to suffer their ardour to cool, 
 and sometimes begging of the gods that the battle 
 might not be over before he arrived, but that he 
 might have his share in the glorious toils and 
 dangers of his countrymen. 
 
 It was customary with the Romans of that age, 
 when they were drawn up in order of battle, and 
 ready to take up their shields and gird their gar- 
 ments about them, to make a nuncupative will, 
 naming each his heir, in the presence of three or 
 four witnesses. While the soldiers were thus em- 
 ployed, and the enemy in sight, Marcius came 
 up. Some were startled at his first appearance, 
 covered as he was with blood and sweat. But 
 when he ran cheerfully up to the consul, took 
 him by the hand, and told him that Corioli was 
 taken, the consul clasped him to his heart : and 
 those who heard the news of that success, and 
 those who did but guess at it, were greatly ani- 
 mated, and with shouts demanded to be led on to 
 the combat. Marcius inquired of Cominius in 
 what manner the enemy’s army was drawn up, 
 and where their best troops were posted. Being 
 answered, that the Antiates who were placed in 
 the centre, were supposed to be the bravest and 
 most warlike, “ I beg it of you, then,” said 
 Marcius, “ as a favour, that you will place me 
 directly opposite to them.” And the consul, ad- 
 miring his spirit, readily granted his request. 
 
 When the battle was begun with the throwing 
 of spears, Marcius advanced before the rest, and 
 charged the centre of the Volscians with so much 
 fury, that it was soon broken. Nevertheless, the 
 Wings attempted to surround him ; and the consul, 
 alarmed for him, sent to his assistance a select 
 band which he had near his own person. A 
 sharp conflict then ensued about Marcius, and 
 a great carnage was quickly made ; but the 
 Romans pressed the enemy with so much vigour 
 
 that they put them to flight. And when they 
 were going upon the pursuit, they begged of 
 Marcius, now almost weighed down with wounds 
 and fatigue, to retire to the camp. But he an- 
 swered, that it was not for conquerors to be tfred, 
 and so joined him in prosecuting the victory! 
 The whole army of the Volscians was defeated, 
 great numbers killed, and many made prisoners. * 
 
 Next day, Marcius waiting upon the consul, 
 and the army being assembled, Cominius mounted 
 the rostrum ; and having in the first place re- 
 turned due thanks to the gods for such extra- 
 ordinary success, addressed himself to Marcius, 
 He began with a detail of his gallant actions, of 
 which he had himself been partly an eye-witness, 
 and which had partly been related to him by 
 Lartius. 1 hen out of the great quantity of 
 treasure, the many horses and prisoners they had 
 taken, he ordered him to take a tenth, before any 
 distribution was made to the rest, beside making 
 him a present of a fine horse with noble trappings, 
 as a reward for his valour. 
 
 The army received this speech with great ap- 
 plause ; and Marcius, stepping forward, said, 
 that he accepted of the horse, and was happy in 
 the consul’s approbation ; but as for the rest, he 
 considered it rather as a pecuniary reward than 
 as a mark of honour, and therefore desired to be 
 excused, being satisfied with his single share of 
 the booty. “ One favour only in particular,” 
 continued he, “ I desire, and beg I may be in- 
 dulged in. I have a friend among the Volscians, 
 bound with me in the sacred rites of hospitality, 
 and a man or virtue and honour. He is now 
 among the prisoners, and from easy and opulent 
 circumstances reduced to servitude. Of the many 
 •misfortunes under which he labours, I should be 
 glad to rescue him from one, which is that 'of 
 being sold as a slave.” 
 
 These words of Marcius were followed with 
 still louder acclamations ; his conquering the 
 temptations of money being more admired than 
 the valour he had exerted in battle. For even 
 those who before regarded his superior honours 
 with envy and jealousy, now thought him worthy 
 of great things because he had greatly declined 
 them, and were more struck with that virtue 
 which led him to despise such extraordinary ad- 
 vantages, than with the merit which claimed 
 them. Indeed, the right use of riches is more 
 commendable than that of arms ; and not to 
 desire them at all, more glorious than to use 
 them well. 
 
 When the acclamations were over, and the 
 multitude silent again, Cominius subjoined, “ You ' 
 cannot, indeed, my fellow-.soldiers, force these 
 gifts of yours upon a person so firmly resolved to 
 refuse them ; let us then give him what it is not 
 in his power to decline, let us pass a vote that he 
 be called Coriolaniis^ if his gallant behaviour at 
 Corioli has not already bestowed that name upon 
 him.” Hence came his third name of Coriolanus. 
 By which it appears that Caius was the proper 
 name ; that the second name, Marcius, was that 
 of the family ; and that the third Roman appella- 
 tive was a peculiar note of di.stinction, given 
 afterwards on account of some particular act of 
 fortune, or signature, or virtue of him that bore 
 it. Thus among the Greeks additional names 
 were given to some on account of their achieve- 
 ments, as Soter, the preserver^ and Callimc 7 is, 
 the victorious ; to others, for something remark- 
 
 M 
 
1 62 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 able in their persons, as Physcon, the gore-bellied^ 
 and Griptis, the eagle-nosed ; or for their good 
 qualities, as Euergeies, the benefactor, and Phila- 
 delphus, the kind brother ; or their good fortune, 
 as Endcemon, the pfosperous. a name given to 
 the second prince of the family of the Batti. 
 Several princes also have had satirical names 
 bestowed upon them : Antigonus (for instance) 
 was called Dos>m, the man that 'will give to- 
 morrow, and Ptolemy was styled Lamyras, the 
 buffoon. But appellations of this last sort were 
 used with greater latitude among the Romans. 
 One of the Metelli was distinguished by the name 
 of Diadematus, because he went a long time with 
 a bandage, which covered an ulcer he had in his 
 forehead : and another they called Celer, because 
 with surprising celerity he entertained them with 
 a funeral show of gladiators, a few days after his 
 father s death. In our times, too, some of the 
 Romans receive their names from the circum- 
 stances of their birth ; as that of Proculus^ if born 
 when their fathers are in a distant country ; and 
 that oi Posthu 77 ins, if born after their father’s 
 death ; and when twins come into the world, and 
 one of them dies at the birth, the survivor is called 
 Vopisctis. Names are also appropriated on ac- 
 count of bodily imperfections ; for amongst them 
 we find not only Sylla, the reo, and Niger, the 
 black ; but even Cacus, the blind, and Claudms, 
 the lame; such persons by this custom being 
 wisely taught, not to consider blindness or any 
 other bodily misfortune as a reproach or disgrace, 
 but to answer to appellations of that kind as 
 their proper names. But this point might have 
 been insisted upon with greater propriety in an- 
 other place. 
 
 When the war was over, the demagogues stirred’ 
 up another sedition. And as there was no new 
 cause of di.squiet or injury done the people, they 
 made use of the mischiefs which were the neces- 
 sary consequence of the former troubles and dis- 
 sensions, as a handle against the patricians. For 
 the greatest part of the ground being left unculti- 
 vated and unsown, and the war not permitting 
 them to bring in bread corn from other countries, 
 there was an extreme scarcity in Rome.* The 
 factious orators then seeing that corn was not 
 brought to market, and that if the market could 
 be supplied the commonalty had but little money 
 to buy with, slanderously asserted, that the rich 
 had caused the famine out of a spirit of revenge. 
 
 At this juncture there arrived ambassadors from 
 the people of Velitrse, who offered to surrender 
 their city to the Romans, and desired to have a 
 number of new inhabitants to replenish it ; a pesti- 
 lential d.stemper having committed such ravages 
 there, that scarce the tenth part of the inhabitants 
 remained. The sensible part of the Romans 
 thought this pressing necessity of Velitrse a 
 seasonable and advantageous thing for Rome, as 
 it would lessen the scarcity of provisions. They 
 hoped, moreover, that the sedition would subside, 
 if the city were purged of the troublesome part of 
 the people, who most readily took fire at the 
 
 harangues of their orators, and w'ho were as 
 dangerous to the state as so many superfluous 
 and morbid humours are to the budy. Such as 
 these, therefore, the con.suls singled out for the 
 colony, and pitched upon others to serve in the 
 war against the Volscians, contriving it so that 
 employment abroad might still the intestine 
 tumults, and believing, that when rich and poor, 
 plebeians and patricians, came to bear arms 
 together again, to be in the same camp, and to 
 meet the same dangers, they would be dispo.sed 
 to treat each other with more gentleness and 
 candour. 
 
 But the restless tribunes, Sicinius and Brutus, 
 opposed both these designs, crying out, that the 
 consuls disguised a most inhuman act under the 
 plausible term of a colony ; for inhuman it cer- 
 tainly was, to throw the poor citizens into a 
 devouring gulf, by sending them to a place where 
 the air was infected, and where noisome carcases 
 lay above ground, where also they would be at 
 the disposal of a strange and cruel deity. And as 
 if it were not sufficient to destroy some by famine, 
 and to expose others to the plague, they involved 
 them also into a needless war, that no kind of 
 calamity might be wanting to complete the ruin 
 of the city, because it refused to continue in 
 slavery to the rich. 
 
 The people, irritated by these speeches, neither 
 obeyed the summons to be enlisted for the war, 
 nor could be brought to approve the order to go 
 and people Velitrse. While the senate were in 
 doubt what step they should take, Marcius, now 
 not a little elated by the honours he had received, 
 by the sense of his own great abilities, and by the 
 deference that was paid him by the principal per- 
 sons in the state, stood foremost in opposition to 
 the tribunes. The colony, therefore, was sent out, 
 heavy fines being set upon such as refused to go. 
 But as they declared absolutely against serving 
 in the war, Marcius mustered up his own clients, 
 and as many volunteers as he could procure, and 
 with these made an inroad into the territories of 
 the Antiates. There he found plenty of corn, 
 and a great number of cattle and slaves, no pait 
 of which he reserved to himself, but led his troops 
 back to Rome, loaded with the rich booty. The 
 rest of the citizens then repenting of their ob- 
 stinacy, and envying those who had got such a 
 quantity of provisions, looked upon Marcius with 
 an evil eye, not being able to endure the increase 
 of his power and honour, which they considered 
 as rising on the ruins of the people. 
 
 Soon after,* Marcius stood for the consulship ; 
 on which occasion the commonalty began to relent, 
 being sensible what a shame it would be to reject 
 and affront a man of his family and virtue, and 
 that too after he had done so many .signal services 
 to the public. It was the custom for those who 
 were candidates for such a high office to solicit 
 and caress the people in forum, and, at those 
 
 times, to be clad in a loose gown without the 
 tunic; whether that humble dress was thought 
 more suitable for suppliants, or whether it was 
 for the convenience of showing their wounds, as 
 so many tokens of valour. For it was not from 
 any suspicion the citizens then had of bribery, 
 that they required the candidates to appear before 
 
 * The people withdrew to the sacred mount 
 soon after the autumnal equinox, and the recon- 
 ciliation with the patricians did not take place 
 until the winter solstice, so that the seed-time was 
 lost. And the Roman factors, who were sent to 
 buy corn in other countries, were very unsuccess- 
 ful. 
 
 * It was the next year, being the third of the 
 seventy-second olympiad, 488 years before the 
 Christian era. 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 them ungirt and without any close garment, when 
 they came to beg their votes ; since it was much 
 later than this, and indeed many ages after, that 
 buying and selling stole in, and money came to be 
 a means of gaining an election. Then corruption 
 reaching also the tribunals and the camps, arms 
 were subdued by money, and the commonwea/th 
 was changed into a monarchy. It was a shrewd 
 saying, whoever said it, that the man who first 
 ruined the Roman people was he who first gave 
 them treats and gratuities. But this mischief 
 crept secretly and gradually in, and did not show 
 Its :ace in Rome for a considerable time. For we 
 know not who it was that first bribed its citizens 
 or Its judges ; but it is said, that in Athens, the 
 first man who corrupted a tribunal, was Anytas, 
 the son of Anthymion, when he was tried for 
 treason in delivering up the fort of Pylos,* at the 
 lattei end of the Peloponnesian war; a time when 
 tne golden age reigned in the Roman courts in all 
 Its simplicity. 
 
 When, therefore, Marcius showed the wounds 
 and scars he had received in the many glorious 
 battles he had fought for seventeen years suc- 
 cessively, the people were struck with reverence 
 wr his virtue, and agreed to choose him consul. 
 But when the day of election came, and he was 
 conducted with great pomp into the Camptts 
 Mar tins hy the senate in a body, all the patricians 
 acting with more zeal and vigour than ever had 
 been known on the like occasion ; the commons 
 then altered their minds, and their kindness was 
 turned into envy and indignation. The malignity 
 of these passions was farther assisted by the fear 
 they entertained, that if a man so strongly attached 
 to the interests of the senate, and so much re- 
 spected by the nobility, should attain the consul- 
 ship, he rnight utterly deprive the people of their 
 liberiy. Influenced by these con.siderations, they 
 r^ected Marcius, and appointed others to that 
 office. The senate took this extremely ill, con- 
 sidering it as an affront rather intended against 
 them than against Marcius. As for Marcius. he 
 resented that treatment highly, indulging his 
 irascible pass ons upon a supposition, that they 
 have something great and exalted in them ; and 
 wanting a due mixture of gravity and mildness, 
 which are the chief political virtues, and the fruits 
 of reason and education. He did not consider, 
 that the man who applies himself to public busi- 
 ness, and undertakes to converse with men, should, 
 
 ^ avoid that overbearing azcsterity 
 
 which (as Plato says) is always ike companion of 
 solitude, and cultivate in his heart the patience 
 which some people so much deride. Marcius, 
 then being plain and artless, but rigid and in- 
 flexible withal, was persuaded, that to vanquish 
 opposition was the highest attainment of a gallant 
 dreamed that such obstinacy is 
 rather the effect of the weakness and effeminacy 
 of a distempered mind, which breaks out in violent 
 passions, like so many tumours ; and therefore he 
 went away in great disorder, and full of rancour 
 against the people. Such of the young nobility 
 as were most distinguished by the pride of birth 
 had always been 
 lu?kflv ^ Marcius, and tLn un- 
 
 luckily happened to attend him, inflamed his 
 
 l6q 
 
 fort with 1.758,. has the name of this 
 
 lort with a French termination, Pyle, which is a 
 clear proof that the Greek was Aot consulted. 
 
 resentment, by expressing their own grief and in- 
 dignation. hor he was their leader in every 
 expedition, and their instructor in the art of war : 
 he It was who inspired them with a truly v.rtuous 
 emulation, and taught them to rejoice in their 
 others^^^^^^^’ envying the exploits of 
 
 In the mean time, a great quantity of bread- 
 corn was brought to Rome, being partly bought 
 up in Italy, and partly a present from Gelon, 
 king of Syracuse. 1 he aspect of affairs appeared 
 now to be encouraging ; and it was hoped, that 
 the intestine broils would cease with the .scarcity. 
 1 he senate, therefore, being immediately assem- 
 bled, the people stood in crowds without, waiting 
 tor the issue of their deliberations. They ex- 
 pected, that the market-rates for the corn that 
 was bought would be moderate, and that a dis- 
 tribution of that which was a gift would be made 
 gratis; for there were some who proposed, that 
 the senate should di.spose of it in that manner. 
 But Marcius stood up, and severely censured 
 those that spoke in favour of the commonalty, 
 calling them demagogues and traitors to the 
 nobility. ^ He said, they nourished to their own 
 great prejudice the pernicious seeds of boldness 
 and petulance, which had been sown among the 
 populace, when they should rather have nipped 
 them in the bud, and not have suffered the 
 pl^eians to strengthen themselves with the 
 tribumtial power. That the people were now 
 become formidable, gaining whatever point they 
 pleased, and not doing any one thing against 
 their inclination ; so that living in a sort of 
 anarchy, they would no longer obey the consuls 
 nor acknowledge any superiors but tho.se whom 
 they called their own magistrates. That the 
 senators who advised that distributions should be 
 made in the manner of the Greeks, whose govern- 
 ment was entirely democratical, were effecting 
 the ruin of the constitution, by encouraging the 
 insolence of the rabble. For that they would 
 not suppose they received such favours for the 
 campaign which they had refused to make, or 
 for the secessions by which they had deserted 
 t^heir country, or for the calumnies which they 
 had countenanced against the senate : “ but ” con- 
 tinued he, “ they will think that we yield to them 
 t^hrough fear, and grant them such indulgences 
 by way of flattery ; and as they will expect to 
 find us always so complaisant, there will be no 
 end to their disobedience, no period to their tur- 
 bulent and seditious practices. It would, there- 
 fore, be perfect madness to take such a step 
 Nay, if we are wise, we shall entirely abolish the 
 tribunes office,* which has made ciphers of the 
 consuls, and divided the city in such a manner, 
 that it is no longer one as formerly, but broken 
 into two parts, which will never knit again or 
 cease to vex and harass each other with all the 
 evils of discord. ” t 
 
 Marcius, haranguing to this purpose, inspired 
 the young senators and almost all the men of 
 
 * The tribunes had lately procured a law, which 
 made it penal to interrupt them when they were 
 speaking to the people. 
 
 t Plutarch has omitted the most aggravating 
 passage in Coriolanus’s speech, wherein he pro- 
 Dosed the holding up the price of bread-corn as 
 ugh as ever, to keep the people in dependence 
 and subjection. 
 
i 64 PLUTARCWS 'lives. 
 
 fortune with his own enthusiasm ; and they cried 
 out that he was the only man in Rome who had 
 a spirit above the meanness of flattery and sub- 
 mission : yet some of the aged senators foresaw 
 the consequence, and opposed his measures. In 
 fact, the issue was unfortunate. For the tribunes 
 who were present, when they saw that Marcius 
 would have a majority of voices, ran out to the 
 people, loudly calling upon them to stand by 
 their own magistrates and give their best assist- 
 ance. An assembly then was heid in a tumul- 
 tuary manner in which the speeches of Marcius 
 were recited, and the plebeians in their fury had 
 thoughts of breaking in upon the senate. The 
 tribunes pointed their rage against Marcius in 
 particular, by impeaching him in form, and sent 
 for him to make his defence. But as he spurned 
 the messengers, they went themselves, attended 
 by the sediles, to bring him by force, and began 
 to lay hands on him. Upon this the patricians 
 stood up for him, drove off the tribunes, and beat 
 the sediles ; till night coming on broke off the 
 quarrel. Early next morning, the consuls observ- 
 ing that the people, now extremely incensed, 
 flocked from all quarters into the Jorum. ; and 
 dreading what might be the consequence to the 
 city, hastily convened the senate, and moved, 
 that they should consider how with kind words 
 and favourable resolutions they might bring the 
 commons to temper ; for that this was not a time 
 to display their ambition, nor would it be prudent 
 to pursue disputes about the point of honour at a 
 critical and dangerous juncture, which required 
 the greatest moderation and delicacy of conduct. 
 As the majority agreed to the motion, they went 
 out to confer with the people, and used their best 
 endeavours to pacify them, coolly refuting 
 calumnies, and modestly, though not without 
 some degree of sharpness, complaining of their 
 behaviour. As to the price of bread-corn and 
 other provisions, they declared, there should be 
 no difference between them. 
 
 Great part of the people were moved with this 
 application, and it clearly appeared, by their can- 
 did attention, that they were ready to close with 
 it. Then the tribunes stood up and said, that since 
 the senate acted with such moderation, the 
 people were not unwilling to make concessions 
 in their turn ; but they insisted that Marcius 
 should come and answer to these articles : 
 Whether he had not stirred up the senate to the 
 confounding of all government, and to the destroy- 
 ing of the people’s privileges ? Whether he had 
 not refused to obey their summons? Whether 
 he had not beaten and otherwise maltreated the 
 sediles in the forum : and by these means (so far 
 as in him lay) levied war, and brought the citizens 
 to sheath their swords in each other’s bosom ? 
 These things they said with a design, either to 
 humble Marcius, by making him submit to en- 
 treat the people’s clemency, which was much 
 against his haughty temper ; or, if he followed 
 his native bent, to draw him to make the breach 
 incurable. The latter they were in hopes of, and 
 the rather because they knew the man well. He 
 stood as if be would have made his defence, and 
 the people waited in silence for what he had to 
 say. But when, instead of the submissive 
 language that was expected, he began with an 
 aggravating boldness, and rather accused the 
 commons, than defended himself ; when with the 
 tone of his voice and the fierceness of his looks. 
 
 he expressed an intrepidity bordering upon in- 
 solence and contempt, they lost all patience ; and 
 Sicinius, the boldest of the tribunes, after a short 
 consultation with his colleagues, pronounced 
 openly, that the tribunes condemned Marcius to 
 die. He then ordered the sediles to take him 
 immediately up to the top of the Tarpeian, rock, 
 and throw him down the precipice. However, 
 when they came to lay hands on him, the action 
 appeared horrible even to many of the plebeians. 
 The patricians, shocked and astonished, ran with 
 great outcries to his assistance, and got Marcius 
 in the midst of them, some interposing to keep 
 off the arrest, and others stretching out their 
 hands in supplication to the multitude ; but no 
 regard was paid to words and entreaties amidst 
 such disorder and confusion, until the friends and 
 relations of the tribunes perceiving it would be 
 impossible to carry off Marcius and punish him 
 capitally, without first spilling much patrician 
 blood, persuaded them to alter the cruel and 
 unprecedented part of the sentence ; not to use 
 violence in the affair, or put him to death with- 
 out form of trial, but to refer all to the people’s 
 determination in full assembly. 
 
 Sicinius, then a little mollified, asked the patri- 
 cians what they meant by taking Marcius out of 
 the hands of the people, who were resolved to 
 puni.sh him ? To which they replied by another 
 question, “ What do you mean by thus dragging 
 one of the worthiest men in Rome, without trial, 
 to a barbarous and illegal execution?” “ If that 
 be all,” said Sicinius “ you shall no longer have a 
 pretence for your quarrels and factious behaviour 
 to the people ; for they grant you what you desire ; 
 the man shall have his trial. And as ior you, 
 Marcius, we cite you to appear the third market-^ 
 day, and satisfy the citizens of your innocence, if 
 you can ; for then by their suffrages your affair 
 will be decided.” The patricians were content 
 with this compromise ; and thinking themselves 
 happy in carrying Marcius off, they retired. 
 
 Meanwhile, before the third market-day, which 
 was a considerable space, for the Romans hold 
 their markets every ninth day, and thence call 
 them NundincB, war broke out with the Antiates,’*' 
 which, because it was like to be of some con- 
 tinuance, gave them hopes of evading the judg- 
 ment, since there would be time tor the people to 
 become more tractable, to moderate their anger, 
 or perhaps let it entirely evaporate in the bus ness 
 of that expedition. But they soon made peace 
 with the Antiates, and returned ; whereupon, the 
 fears of the senate were renewed, and they often 
 met to consider how things might be so managed, 
 that they should neither give up Marcius, nor 
 leave room for the tribunes to throw the people 
 into new disorders. On this occasion, Appius i 
 Claudius, who was the most violent adversary the 
 t:ommons had, declared, that the senate would 
 betray and ruin themselves, and absolutely destroy 
 the constitution, if they should once suffer the 
 plebeians to assume a power of suffrage against 
 the patricians. But the oldest and most popular 
 
 * Advice was suddenly brought to Rome, that 
 the people of Antium had seized and confiscai ed 
 the ships belonging to Gelon’s ambassadors in 
 their return to Sicily, and had even imprisoned 
 the ambassadors. Hereupon they took up arms 
 to chastise the Antiates, but they submitted and 
 made satisfaction. 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 165 
 
 of the senators * * * § * * were of opinion, that the people 
 instead of behaving with nwre harshness and 
 severity, would become mild and gentle, if that 
 power were indulged them ; since they did not 
 despise the senate, but rather thought themselves 
 despised by it ; and the prerogative of judging 
 would be such an honour to them, that they 
 would be perfectly satisfied, and immediately lay 
 aside all resentment. 
 
 Marcius, then seeing the senate perplexed 
 between their regard for him and fear of the 
 people, asked the tribunes, what they accused 
 him of, and upon what charge he was to be tried 
 before the people. Being told, that he would be 
 tried for treason against the commonwealth, in 
 designing to set himself up as a tyrant ;f “Let 
 me go, then,” said he, “to the people, and make 
 j my defence ; I refuse no form of trial, nor any 
 j kind of punishment, if I be found guilty. Only 
 1 allege no other crime against me, and do not 
 } impose upon the senate.’ The tribunes agreed 
 to these conditions, and promised that the cause 
 should turn upon this one point. 
 
 But the first thing they did, after the people 
 were assembled, was to compel them to give their 
 voices by tribes,!: and not by centuries ; thus 
 contriving that the meanest and most seditious 
 part of the populace, and those who had no regard 
 to justice or honour, might outvote such as had 
 borne arms, or were of some fortune and charac- 
 ter. In the next place, they passed by the charge 
 of his affecting the sovereignty, because they 
 could not. prove it, and, instead of it, repeated 
 what Marcius some time be ore had said in the 
 senate, against lowering the price of corn, and 
 for abolishing the tribunitial power. And they 
 added to the impeachment a new article, namely, 
 his not bringing into the public treasury the 
 spoils he had taken in the country of the Antiates, 
 but dividing them among the soldiers. § This last 
 
 * Valerius was at the head of these. He in- 
 sisted also at large on the horrible consequences 
 of a civil war. 
 
 t It was never known that any person who 
 affected to set himself up tyrant, joined with the 
 nobility against the people, but on the contrary 
 conspired with the people against the nobility. 
 “Besides,” said he, in his defence, “it was to 
 save these citizens, that I have received the 
 wounds you see : let the tribunes show, if they 
 can, how such actions are consistent with the 
 treacherous designs they lay to my charge.” 
 
 X From the reign of Servius Tullius, the voices 
 had been alv/ays gathered by centuries. The 
 consuls were for keeping up the ancient custom, 
 being well apprised that they could save Corio- 
 lanus, if the voices were reckoned by centuries, 
 of which the knights and the wealthiest of the 
 citizens made the majority, being pretty sure O; 
 ninety-eight out of a hundred and seventy-three 
 But the artful tribunes, alleging that, in an affair 
 relating to the rights of the people, every citizen’s 
 vote ought toMiave its due weight, would not by 
 any means consent to let the voices be collected 
 otherwise than by tribes. 
 
 § “ This,” said the tribune Decius, “is a plain 
 proof of his evil designs : with the public money 
 he secured to himself creatures and guards, and 
 supporieib of his intended usurpation. Let him 
 make it appear that he had power to dispose of 
 this booty without violating the laws. Let him 
 
 accusation is said to have discomposed Marcius 
 more than all the rest ; for it was what he did not 
 expect, and he could not immediately think of an 
 answer that would satisfy the commonalty ; the 
 praises he bestowed upon those who made that 
 campaign with him, serving only to raise an out- 
 cry against him from the majority, who were not 
 concerned in it. At last, when they came to vote, 
 he was condemned by a majority of three tribes, 
 and the pena ty to be inflicted upon him was 
 perpetual banishment. 
 
 After the sentence was pronounced the people 
 were more elated, and went off in greater trans- 
 ports than they ever did on account of a victory 
 in the field ; the senate, on the other hand, were 
 in the greatest distress, and repented that they 
 had not run the last ris.k, rather than suffer the 
 people to possess themselves of so much power, 
 and use it in so insolent a manner. There was no 
 need then to look upon their dress, or any other 
 mark of distinction, to know which was a plebeian 
 and which a patrician ; the man that exulted, was 
 a plebeian ; and the man that was dejected, a 
 patrician. 
 
 Marcius alone was unmoved and unhumbled. 
 Still lofty in his port and firm in his countenance, 
 he appeared not to be sorry for himself, and 
 to be the only one of the nobility that was not. 
 This air of fortitude was not, however, the 
 effect of reason or moderation, but the man was 
 buoyed up by anger and indignation. And this, 
 though the vulgar know it not, has its rise from 
 grief, which when it catches flame, is turned to 
 anger, and then bids adieu to all feebleness and 
 dejection. Hence, the angry man is courageous, 
 just as he who has a fever is hot, the mind being 
 upon the stretch and in a violent agitation. His 
 subsequent behaviour soon showed that he was 
 thus affected. For having returned to his own 
 house, and embraced his mother and his wife, 
 who lamented their fate with the weakness of 
 women, he exhorted them to bear it with patience, 
 and then hastened to one of the city-gates, being 
 conducted by the patricians in a body. I'hus he 
 quitted Rome, without asking or receiving aught 
 at any man's hand ; and took with him only three 
 or four clients. He spent a few days in a solitary 
 manner at some of his farms near the city, agitated 
 with a thousand different thoughts, such as his 
 anger suggested ; in which he did not propose any 
 advantage to himself, but considered only how he 
 might satisfy his revenge against the Romans. 
 At last he determined to spirit up a cruel war 
 against them from some neighbouring nation ; 
 and for this purpose to apply first to the Volscians, 
 whom he knew to be yet strong both in men and 
 money, and whom he supposed to be rather ex- 
 asperated and provoked to farther conflicts, than 
 absolutely subdued. 
 
 There was then a person at Antium, Tullus 
 Aufidius by name,* highly distinguished among 
 the Volscians, by his wealth, his valour, and 
 noble birth. Marcius was very sensible, that of 
 
 answer to this one article, without dazzling us 
 with the splendid show of his crowns and scars, 
 or using any other arts to blind the assembly.” 
 
 * Livy and Dionysius of Halicarnassus call 
 him Tullus Attius ; and with them an anonymous 
 MS. agrees. Aufidius, however, which is very 
 near the Bodleian reading, has a Latin sound, and 
 probably was what Plutarch meant to write. 
 
i66 PL UTARCH LIVES, 
 
 all the Romans, himself was the man whom Tullus 
 most hated. For, excited by ambition and emu- 
 lation, as young warriors usually are, they had in 
 several engagements encountered each other with 
 menaces, and bold defiances, and thus had added 
 personal enmity to the hatred which reigned 
 between the two nations. But notwithstanding 
 all this, considering the great generosity of Tullus, 
 and knowing that he was more desirpus than any 
 of the Volscians, of an opportunity to return upon 
 the Romans part of the ev Is his country had 
 suffered, he took a method which strongly con- 
 firms that saying of the poet — 
 
 Stern Wrath, how strong thy sway ! though life’s 
 the forfeit. 
 
 Thy promise must be gained. 
 
 For, putting himself in such clothes and habili- 
 ments as were most likely to prevent his being 
 known, like Ulysses — 
 
 He stole into the hostile town. 
 
 It was evening when he entered, and though 
 many people met him in the streets, not one of 
 them knew him. He passed therefore on to the 
 house of Tullus, where he got in undiscovered, 
 and having directly made up to the fire-place,* 
 he seated himself without saying a word, covering 
 his face, and remaining in a composed posture. 
 The people of the house were very much sur- 
 prised ; yet they did not venture to disturb him, 
 for there was something of dignity both in his 
 person and his silence ; but they went and related 
 the strange adventure to Tullus, who was then at 
 supper. Tullus, upon this, rose from table, and 
 coming to Coriolanus, asked him who he was, and 
 upon what business he was come. Coriolanus, 
 uncovering his face, paused awhile, and then thus 
 addressed him : “If thou dost not yet know me, 
 Tullus, but distrustest thy own eyes, I must of 
 necessity be my own accuser. I am Caius Mar- 
 cius, who have brought so many calamities upon 
 the Volscians, and bear the additional name of 
 Coriolanus, which will not suffer me to deny that 
 imputation, were I disposed to it. For all the 
 labours and dangers I have undergone, I have no 
 other reward left but that appellation, which dis- 
 tinguishes my enmity to your nation, and which 
 cannot indeed be taken from me. Of everything 
 else I am deprived by the envy and outrage of 
 the people, on the one hand, and the cowardice 
 and treachery of the magistrates and those of my 
 own order, on the other. Thus driven out an 
 exile, I am come a suppliant to thy household 
 gods ; not for shelter and protection, for why 
 should I come hither, if I were afraid of death ? 
 but for vengeance against those who have expelled 
 me, which, methinks, I begin to take, by putting 
 myself into thy hands. If, therefore, thou art 
 disposed to attack the enemy, come on, brave 
 Tullus, avail thyself of my misfortunes ; let my 
 personal distress be the common happiness of the 
 Volscians. You may be assured, I shall fight 
 much better for you than I have fought against 
 jmu, because they who know perfectly the state 
 of the enemy’s affairs are much more capable of 
 annoying them, than such as do not know them. 
 But if thou hast given up all thoughts of war, I 
 neither desire to live, nor is it fit for thee to pre- 
 
 * The fire-place, having the domestic gods in 
 it, was esteemed sacred ; and therefore all sup- 
 pliants resorted to it, as to an asylum. 
 
 serve a person who of old has been thine enemy, 
 and now is not able to do thee any sort of service.” 
 
 Tullus, delighted with this address, gave him 
 his hand, and “ Rise,” said he, “ Marcius, and 
 take courage. The present you thus make of 
 yourself is inestimable ; and you may assure 
 yourself that the Volscians will not be ungrate- 
 ful.” Then he entertained him at his table with 
 great kindness ; and the next and the following 
 days they consulted together about the war. 
 
 Rome was then in great confusion, by reason of 
 the animosity of the nobility against the commons, 
 which was considerably heightened by the late 
 condemnation of Marcius. Many prodigies were 
 also announced by private persons, as well as by 
 the priests and diviners. One of which was as 
 follows : Titus Latinus,* a man of no high rank, 
 but of great modesty and candour, not addicted 
 to superstition, much less to vain pretences to 
 what is extraordinary, had this dream. Jupiter, 
 he thought, appeared to him, and ordered him to 
 tell the senate, that they had provided him a very 
 bad and ill-favoured leader of the dance in the 
 sacred procession. When he had seen this vision, 
 he said, he paid but little regard to it at first. It 
 was presented a second and a third time, and he 
 neglected it : whereupon he had the unhappiness 
 to see his son sicken and die, and he himself was 
 suddenly struck in such a manner, as to lose the 
 use of his limbs. These particulars he related in 
 the senate-house, being carried on his couch for 
 that purpose. And he had no sooner made an 
 end, than he perceived, as they tell us, his strength 
 return, and rose up and walked home without 
 help. 
 
 The senate were much surprised, and made a 
 strict inquiry into the affair ; the result of which 
 was, that a certain householder had delivered up 
 one of his slaves, who had been guilty of some 
 offence, to his other servants, with an order to 
 whip him through the market-place, and then put 
 him to death. While they were executing this 
 order, and scourging the wretch, who writhed 
 himself, through the violence of pain, into various 
 postures,! the procession happened to come up. 
 Many of the people that composed it were fired 
 with indignation, for the sight was excessively 
 disagreeable and shocking to humanity ; yet no- 
 body gave him the least assistance ; only curses 
 and execrations were vented against the man who 
 punished v/ith so much cruelty. For in those 
 times they treated their slaves with great modera- 
 tion, and this was natural, because they worked 
 and even ate with them. It was deemed a great 
 punishment for a slave who had committed a 
 fault to take up that piece of wood with which 
 they supported the thill of a waggon, and carry it 
 round the neighbourhood. For he that was thus 
 exposed to the derision of the family and other 
 inhabitants of the place, entirely lost his credit, 
 and was styled Furcifer; the Romans calling 
 that piece of timber furca, which the Greeks call 
 kypostates^ that is, a supporter. 
 
 When Latinus had given the senate an account 
 
 * Livy calls him Titus Atinius. 
 t According to Dionysius of Halicarnassus, the 
 master had given orders that the slave should be 
 punished at the head of the procession, to make 
 the ignominy the more notorious ; which was a 
 still greater affront to the deity in whose honour 
 the procession was led up. 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS, 
 
 167 
 
 of his dream, and they doubted who this ill- 
 favoured and bad leader of the dance might be, 
 the excessive seventy of the punishment put some 
 of them in mind of the slave who was whipped 
 through the market-place, and afterwards put to 
 death. All the priests agreeing that he must be 
 the person meant, his master had a heavy fine 
 laid upon him, and the procession and games 
 were exhibited anew in honour of J upiter. Hence 
 it appears, that Numa's religious institutions in 
 general are very wise, and that this in particular 
 is highly condu ive to the purpo.ses of piety, 
 namely, that when the magistrates or priests are 
 employed in any sacred ceremony, a herald goes 
 before, and proclaims aloud, Hoc be 
 
 attentive to this; hereby commanding every- 
 body to regard the solemn acts of religion, and 
 not to suffer any business or avocation to intervene 
 and disturb them ; as well knowing, that men’s 
 attention, especially in what concerns the worship 
 of the gods, is seldom fixed, but by a sort of 
 violence and constraint. 
 
 But it is not only in so important a case that 
 the Romans begin anew their sacrifices, their 
 proce.ssions, and games : they do it tor very small 
 matters. If one of the horses that draw the 
 chariots called Tensce^ in which are placed the 
 images of the gods, happened to stumble, or ii 
 the charioteer took the reins in his left hand ; the 
 whole procession was to be repeated. And in 
 later ages they have set about one sacrifice thirty 
 several times, on account of some defect or in- 
 auspicious appearance in it. Such reverence 
 have the Romans paid to the Supreme Being. 
 
 Meantime Marcius and Tulius held secret con- 
 ferences with the principal Volscians, in which 
 they exhorted them to begin the war, while 
 Rome was torn in pieces with factious disputes ; 
 but a sense of honour restrained some o. them 
 from breaking the t uce which was concluded for 
 two years. The Romans, however, furnished 
 theni with a pretence for it, having, through some 
 suspicion or false suggestion, caused proclamation 
 to be made at one of the public shows or games, 
 that all the Volscians should quit the town before 
 sunset. Some say, it was a stratagem contrived 
 by Marcius, who suborned a person to go to the 
 consuls, and accuse the Volscians of a design to 
 attack the Romans during the games, and to set 
 fire to the city. ^ This proclamation exasperated 
 the whole Volscian nation against the Romans ; 
 and Tulius, greatly aggravating the affront,* at 
 last persuaded them to send to Rome to demand 
 that the lands and cities which had been taken 
 from them in the war should be restored. The 
 senate having heard what the ambassadors had 
 to say, answered with indignation, that the Vol- 
 scians might be the first to take up arms, but the 
 Romans would be the last to lay them down. 
 Hereupon, Tulius summoned a general assembly 
 of his countrymen, whom he advised to send for 
 Marcius, and lorgetting all past injuries, to rest 
 satisfied that the service he would do them, 
 now their ally, would greatly exceed all the 
 
 We alone, said he, “ of all the differen: 
 nations now in Rome, are not thought worthy 
 to see the games. We alone, like the profanesi 
 wretches and outlaws, are driven from a public 
 festival. Go, and tell in all your cities and villages 
 the distinguishing mark the Romans have put 
 upon us. 
 
 damage they had received from him, while their 
 enemy. 
 
 Marcius accordingly was called in, and made 
 an oration to the people; who found that he knew 
 how to speak as well as fight, and that he ex- 
 celled in capacity as well as courage, and there- 
 fore they joined him in commission with Tulius. 
 As he was afraid that the Vol.scians would spend 
 much time in preparations, and so lose a favour- 
 able opportunity for action, he left it to the ma- 
 gistrates and other principal persons in Annum to 
 provide troops and whatever else was necessary, 
 while he, without making any set levies, took a 
 number of volunteers, and with them overran the 
 Roman territories before anybody in Rome coflld 
 expect It. There he made so much booty, that 
 the Vol.scians found it difficult to carry it off, and 
 consume it in the camp. But the great quantity 
 of provisions he collected, and the damage he did 
 the enemy by committing such spoil, was the 
 least part of the service in this expedition. The 
 great point he had in view in the whole matter, 
 was to increase the people’s suspicions of the 
 nobility. For, while he ravaged the wh >le coun- 
 try, he was very attentive to .spare the lands of 
 the patricians, and to see that nothing should be 
 carried off from them. Hence, the ill op mum the 
 two parties had of each other; and coh.sequently 
 the troubles grew greater than ever ; the patricians 
 accusing the plebeians of unjustly driving out one 
 of the bravest men in Rome, and the plebe ans 
 reproaching them with bringing Marcius upon 
 them, to indulge their revenge, and with sitting 
 secure spectators of what others suffered by the 
 war, while the war iLself was a guard to their 
 lands and subsistence. Marcius having thus 
 effected his purpose, and inspired the Volscians 
 with courage, not only to meet, but even to de- 
 spise the enemy, drew off his party without being 
 molested. 
 
 The Volscian forces assembled with great ex- 
 pedition and alacrity : and they appeared so 
 considerable, that it was thought proper to leave 
 part to garri.son their towns, while the rest 
 marched against the Romans. Coriolanus leaving 
 it in the option of Tulius which corps he would 
 command, Tulius observed, that as his colleague 
 was not at all inferior to himself in valour, and 
 had hitherto fought with better success, he 
 thought it most advisable for him to lead the 
 army into the field, while himself stayed behind 
 to provide for the defence of the towns, and to 
 supply the troops that made the campaign with 
 everything necessary.* 
 
 Marcius strengthened still more by this division 
 of the command, marched first against Circeii,f 
 a Roman colony ; and as it surrendered without 
 resistance, he would not suffer it to be plundered. 
 
 * It would have been very imprudent in Tulius 
 to have left Coriolanus, who had been an enemy, 
 and now might possibly be only a pretended 
 friend, at the head of an army in the bowels of 
 his country, while he was marching at the head 
 of another against Rome. 
 
 t For the right terminations of this and other 
 towns soon after mentioned, see Livy, book ii. 
 c. 39. Plutarch calls the town Circceum. His 
 error is much greater, when a little below he 
 writes Cloelice instead of Cluiliee. Sometimes, 
 too, the former translator makes a mistake where 
 Plutarch had made none. 
 
i68 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 After this he laid waste the territories of the 
 Latins, expecting that the Romans would hazard 
 a battle for the Latins, who were their allies, 
 and by fre(]uent messengers called upon them 
 for assistance. But the commons of Rome showed 
 no alacrity in the affair, and the consuls, whose 
 office was almost expired, were not willing to run 
 such a risk, and therefore rejected the request of 
 the Latins. Marciusthen turntd his arms against 
 Tolerium, Labici, Pedum, and Bola, cities of 
 Latium, which he took by assault ; and because 
 they made resistance, sold the inhabitants as 
 slaves, and plundered their houses. At the same 
 time, he took particular care of such as voluntaril}^ 
 came over to him ; and that they might not 
 sustain any damage against his will, he alwa^’^s 
 encamped at the greatest distance he could, and 
 would not even touch upon their lands, if he 
 could avoid it. 
 
 Afterwards he took Bellas, which is little more 
 than twelve m.iles from Rome, where he put to 
 the sword almost all that were of age to bear 
 arms, and got much plunder. The rest of the 
 Volscians, who were left as a safeguard to the 
 towns, had not patience to remain at home any 
 longer, but ran with their weapons in their hands 
 to Marcius, declaring that they knew no other 
 leader or general but him. His name and his 
 valour were renowned through Italy. All were 
 astonished that one man’s changing sides could 
 make so prodigious an alteration in affairs. 
 
 Nevertheless, there was nothing but disorder 
 at Rome. The Romans refused to fight, and 
 passed their time in cabals, seditious speeches, 
 and mutual complaints ; until news was brought 
 that Loriolanus had laid siege to Lavinium, 
 where the holy symbols of the gods of their 
 fathers were placed, and from whence they 
 derived their original, that being the first city 
 which iLneas built. A wonderful and universal 
 change of opin on then appeared among the 
 people, and a very strange and absurd one among 
 the patricians. The people were desirous to annul 
 the sentence against Marcius, and to recall him to 
 Rome, but the senate being assembled to de- 
 liberate on that point, finally rejected the pro- 
 position ; either out of a perverse humour of 
 opposing whatever measure the people espoused, 
 or perhaps unwilling that Coriolanus should owe 
 his return to the favour oi the people; or else 
 having conceived some resentment against him 
 for harassing and distress.ng all the Romans, 
 when he had been injured only by a part, and for 
 showing himself an enemj^ to his country, in 
 which he knew the most respectable body had 
 both sympathized with him, and shared in his 
 ill-treatment : this resolution being announced to 
 the commons,* it was not in their power to pro- 
 ceed to vote or to pass a bill ; for a previous 
 decree of the senate was necessary. 
 
 At this newb Coriolanus was still more exaspe- 
 rated ; so that, quitting the siege of Lavinium, i* 
 
 he marched with great fur>^ tow'ards Rome, and 
 encamped only five miles from it, at the Fossce 
 Chdlia:. The sight of him caused great terror 
 and confusion, but for the present it appea.sed 
 the sedition ; for neither magistrate nor senator 
 durst any longer oppose the people’s desire to 
 recall him. When they saw the women running 
 up and down the streets, and the supplications 
 and tears of the aged men at the altars of the 
 gods, when all courage and spirit were gone, and 
 salutary councils were no more ; then they ac- 
 knovvledged that the people were right in endea- 
 vouring to be reconciled to Coriolanu.s, and that 
 the senate were under a great mistake, in begin- 
 ning to indulge the passions of anger and revenge 
 at a time when they should have renounced them. 
 All,^ therefore, agreed to send ambassadors to 
 Coriolanus to offer him liberty to return, and to 
 entreat him to put an end to the war. Those that 
 went on the part of the senate, being all either 
 relations or friends of Coriolanus, e.xpected at 
 the first interview much kindness from a man 
 who was thus connected with them. But it 
 happened quite otherwise ; for, being conducted 
 through the Volscian ranks, they found him seated 
 in council, with a number of great officers, and 
 with an insufferable appearance of pomp and 
 severity. He bade them then declare their busi- 
 ness, which they did in a very modest and humble 
 manner, as became the state of their affairs. 
 
 When they had made an end of speaking, he 
 answered them with much bitterness and high 
 resentment of the injuries done him ; and as 
 general of the Volscians, he insisted that the 
 Romans should restore all the cities and lands 
 which they had taken in the former wars ; and 
 that they should grant by decree the freedom of 
 the city to the Volscians, as they had done to the 
 Latins ; for that no lasting peace could be made 
 between the two nations, but upon these just and 
 equal conditions. He gave them thirty days to 
 consider of them ; and having dismissed the am- 
 bassadors, he immediately retii'ed from the Roman 
 territories. 
 
 _ Several among the Volscians, who for a long 
 time had envied his reputation, and been uneasy 
 at the interest he had with the people, ava.led 
 themselves of this circumstance to calumniate and 
 reproach him. Tullus himself was of the number. 
 Not that he had received any particular injury 
 from Coriolanus ; but he was led away by a 
 passion too natural to man. It gave him pain 
 to find his own glory obscured, and h rnself 
 entirely neglected by the Voiscian.s, who looked 
 upon Coriolanus as their supreme head, and 
 thought that others might well be .satisfied with 
 that portion of power and authority which he 
 thought proper to allow them. Hence, secret 
 hints were first given, and in their private cabals 
 his enemies expressed their dissatisfaction, giving 
 the name of treason to his retreat. For though 
 he had not betrayed their cities or armies, yet 
 they said he had traitorously given up time, by 
 which these and all other things are both won 
 and lost. He had allowed them a respite of no 
 less than thirty days, knowing their affairs to be 
 so embarrassed, that they wanted such a space to 
 re-establish them. 
 
 Coriolanus, however, did not spend those thirty 
 da3"S idl3^ He harassed the enem^^’s allies,* laid 
 
 * Perhaps the senate now refused to comply 
 with the demands of the people, either to clear 
 themselves from the suspicion of maintaining a 
 correspondence whth Coriolanus, or possibly out 
 of that magnanimity which made the Romans 
 averse to peace, w'hen they were attended with 
 bad success in war. 
 
 f He left a body of troops to continue the 
 blockade. 
 
 B3' this he prevented the allies of the Romans 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 169 
 
 waste their lands, and took seven great and popu- 
 lous cities in that interval. The Romans d d not 
 venture to send them any .succours. Ihey were 
 as spiritless, and as little disposed to the war, as 
 if their bodies had been relaxed and benumbed 
 with the pal.sy. 
 
 <Vhen the term was expired, and Coriolanus 
 returned with all his orces, they sent a second 
 emba.ssy, to entreat him to lay aside his resent- 
 ment, to draw off the Volscians from the.r terri- 
 tories, and then to proceed as should seem most 
 conducive to the advantage of both nations. For 
 that the Romans would not give up anything 
 through fear ; but ii he thought it reasonable that 
 the VoLscians should be indulged in some par- 
 ticular points, they would be duly considered if 
 they laid down their arms. Coriolanus replied, 
 that as general of the Volscians, he would give 
 them no answer ; but as one who was yet a citizen 
 of Rome, he would advise and exhort them to 
 entertain humble thoughts, and to come \vithin 
 three days with a ratification of the just conditions 
 he had proposed. At the same time he assured 
 them, that if their resolutions should be of a 
 different nature, it would not be safe for them to 
 come any more into his camp with empty words. 
 
 The senate, having received the report of the 
 ambas-sadors, considered the commonwealth as 
 ready to sink in the waves of a dreadful tempest, 
 and therefore cast the last, the sacred anchor^ as 
 it is called. They ordered all the priests of the 
 gods, the ministers and guardians of the mysteries, 
 and all that, by the ancient usage of their country, 
 practised divination by the flight of birds, to go 
 to Coriolanus, in their robes, with the ensigns 
 which they bear in the duties of their office, and 
 exert their utmost endeavours to persuade him to 
 desist from the war, and then to treat with his 
 CO intrymen of articles of peace for the Volscians. 
 When they came, he did indeed vouchsafe to 
 admit them into the camp, but showed them no 
 other favour, nor gave them a milder answer than 
 the others had received ; he bade them, in short, 
 either accept the former proposals, or prepare 
 for war. 
 
 When the priests returned, the Romans resolved 
 to keep close within the city and to defend the 
 wails ; intending only to repulse the enemy, 
 should he attack them, and placing their chief 
 hopes on the accidents of time and lOrtune : for 
 they knew o' no resource within themselves : the 
 city was full of trouble and confusion, terror, and 
 unhappy presage.s. At last something happened 
 similar to what is often mentioned by Homer, 
 but which men in general are little inclined to 
 believe. For when, on occasion of any great and 
 uncommon event, he says — 
 
 Pallas insp.red that counsel ; 
 and again — 
 
 But .some immortal power who rules the mind 
 
 Changed their resolves ; 
 and elsewhere — 
 
 The thought spontaneous rising, 
 
 Or by some god inspired, — 
 they despise the poet, as if, for the sake of absurd 
 notions and incredible fables, he endeavoured to 
 
 from assisting them, and guarded against the 
 charge of treachery, which some of the Volscians 
 were ready to bring against him. 
 
 take away our liberty of will. A thing which 
 Homer never dreamed o'” : for whatever happens 
 in the ordinary course of things, and is the effect 
 of reason and consideration, he often ascribes to 
 our own powers ; as — 
 
 My own great mind 
 I then consulted. 
 
 And in another place : 
 
 Achilles heard with grief ; and various thoughts 
 Perplex’d his mighty mind. 
 
 Once more : 
 
 But she in vain 
 
 Tempted Bellerophon. The noble youth 
 With Wisdom’s shield was arm’d. 
 
 And in extraordinary and wonderful actions, 
 which require some supernatural impulse and 
 enthusiastic movement, he never introduces the 
 Deity as depriving man of freedom of will, but as 
 moving the will. He does not represent the 
 heavenly Power as producing the resolution, but 
 ideas which lead to the resolution. The act, 
 therefore, is by no means involuntary, since oc- 
 casion only is given to free operations, and confi- 
 dence and good hope are superadded. For either 
 the Supreme Being must be excluded from all 
 causality and influence upon our actions, or it 
 must be confessed that this is the only way in 
 which he assists men and co-operates with them ; 
 since it is not to be supposed that he fehions our 
 corporeal organs, or directs the motions of our 
 hands and feet to the purposes he designs, but 
 that by certain motives and ideas which he sug- 
 gests, he either excites the active powers of the 
 will, or else restrains them.* 
 
 The Roman women were then di.spersed in the 
 several temples, but the greatest part and the 
 most illustrious of the matrons made their suppli- 
 cations at the altar of J upiter Capitolinus. Among 
 the last was Valeria, the sister of the great Publi- 
 cola, a person who had done the Romans the 
 most considerable services both in peace and war. 
 Publicola died some time before, as we have re- 
 lated in his life ; but Valeria still lived in the 
 greatest esteem ; for her life did honour to ’ner 
 high birth. This woman discerning, by some 
 divine impulse, what would be the best expedient, 
 rose and called upon the other matrons to attend 
 her to the house of Volumnia,t the mother of 
 Coriolanus. When she entered, and found her 
 sitting with her daughter-in-law, and with the 
 children of Coriolanus on her lap, she approached 
 her with her female companions, and spoke to 
 this effect : “We address ourselves to you, Vo- 
 lumnia and Virgilia, as women to women, without 
 any decree of the senate or order of the consuls. 
 But our god, we believe, lending a merciful ear 
 to our prayers, put it in our minds to apply to 
 vou, and to entreat you to do a thing that will 
 not only be salutary to us and the other citizens, 
 but more glorious for you, if you hearken to us, 
 than the reducing their fathers and husbands 
 from mortal enmity to peace and friendship was 
 to the daughters ot the Sabines. Come then, go 
 
 * Plutarch represents the divine assistance as a 
 moral injiuencey prevailing (if it does prevail) by 
 rational motives. And the best Christian divines 
 describe it in the same manner. 
 
 t Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Liv>’ call his 
 mother Veturia, and his wife Volumnia. 
 
1 70 PL UTARCH 'S LIVES, 
 
 along with u? to Coriolanus ; join your instan es 
 to ours ; and give a true and honourable testimony 
 to your country, that though she has received the 
 greatest injuries from him, yet she has neither 
 done nor resolved upon anything against you in 
 her anger, but restores you safe into his hands, 
 though perhaps she may not obtain any better 
 terms to herself on that account.” 
 
 When Valeria had thus spoken, the rest of the 
 women joined her request. Volumnia gave them 
 this answer : “ Besides the share which we have 
 in the general calamity, we are, my friends, in 
 particular very unhappy ; since Marcius is lost to 
 us, his glory obscured, and his virtue gone ; since 
 we behold him surrounded by the arms of the 
 enemies of his country, not as their prisoner, but 
 their commander. But it is still a greater mis- 
 fortune to us, if our country is become so weak as 
 to have need to repose her hopes upon us. For I 
 know not whether he will have any regard for us, 
 since he has had none for his country, which he 
 used to prefer to his mother, to his wife and 
 children. Take us, however, and make what use 
 of us you please. Lead us to him. if we can do 
 nothing else, we can expire at his feet in suppli- 
 cating for Rome.” 
 
 She then took the children and Virgilia with 
 her,'^' and went with the other matrons to the 
 Volscian camp. The sight of them produced, 
 even in the enemy, compassion and a reverential 
 Silence. Coriolanus, who then happened to be 
 seated upon the tribunal with his principal officers, 
 seeing the women approach, was greatly agitated 
 and surprised. Nevertheless, he endeavoured to 
 retain his wonted sternness and inexorable temper, 
 though he perceived that his wife was at the head 
 of them. But unable to resist the emotions of 
 affection, he could not suffer them to address him 
 as he sat. He descended from the tribunal, and 
 ran to meet them. First he embraced his mother 
 for a considerable time, and afterwards his wife 
 and children, neither refraining from tears nor 
 any other instance of natural tenderness. 
 
 When he had sufficiently indulged his passion, 
 and perceived that his mother wanted to speak, 
 he called the Volscian counsellors to him, and 
 Volumnia expressed herself to this purpose ; 
 “You see, my son, by our attire and miserable 
 looks, and therefore I may spare myself the 
 trouble of declaring, to what condition your 
 banishment has reduced us. Think with yourself 
 whether we are not the most unhappy of women, 
 when fortune has changed the spectacle that 
 should have been the most pleasing in the world, 
 into the most dreadful ; when Volumnia beholds 
 her son, and Virgilia her husband, encamped in a 
 hostile manner be ore the walls of his native city. 
 And what to others is the greatest consolation 
 under misfortune and adversity, I mean prayer to 
 the gods, to us is rendered impracticable ; for we 
 cannot at the same time beg victory for our country 
 and your preservation, but what our worst enemies 
 would imprecate on us as a curse, must of neces- 
 sity be interwoven with our prayers. Your wife 
 
 and children must either see their country perish, 
 or you. As to my own part, I will not live to see 
 this war decided by fortune. If 1 cannot persuade 
 you to prefer friendship and union to enmity and 
 its ruinous consequences, and so to become a 
 benefactor to both sides, rather than the destruc- 
 tion of one, you must take this along with you, 
 and prepare to expect it, that you shall not 
 advance against your country, without trampling 
 upon the dead body of her that bore you. 
 For it does not become me to wait for that day, 
 when my son shall be either led captive by 
 his fellow-citizens, or triumph over Rome. If, 
 indeed, I desired you to save your country by 
 ruining the Volscians, I coniess the case would be 
 hard, and the choice difficult : for it would neither 
 be honourable to destroy your countrymen, nor 
 just to betray those who have placed their confi- 
 dence in you. But what do we desire of you, 
 more than deliverance from our own calamities ? 
 A deliverance which will be equally salutary to 
 both parties,* but most to the honour of the 
 Volscians, since it will appear that their superiority 
 empowered them to grant us the greatest of b ess- 
 ings, peace and friendship, while they themselves 
 receive the same. If these take place, you will 
 be acknowledged to be the principal cause of 
 them ; if they do not, you alone must expect to 
 bear the blame from both nations. And though 
 the chance of war is uncertain, yet it will be the 
 certain event of this, that if you conquer, you will 
 be a destroying demon to your country ; if you 
 are beaten it will be clear that by indulging your 
 resentment, you have plunged your friends and 
 benefactors in the greatest of misfortunes.’’ 
 
 Conolanus listened to his mother while she 
 went on with her speech, without saying the 
 least word to her; and Volumnia, seeing hi.m 
 stand a long time mute after she had left speak- 
 ing, proceeded again in this manner ; “ Why are 
 you silent, my son? Is it an honour to yield 
 everything to anger and resentment, and \vould 
 it be a disgrace to yield to your mother in so 
 important a petition ? Or does it become a great 
 man to remember the injuries done him, and would 
 it not equally become a great and good man with 
 the highest regard and reverence to keep in mind 
 the benefits he has received from his parents? 
 Surely you, of all men, should take care to be 
 grateful, who have suffered so extremely by in- 
 gratitude. And yet, though you have already 
 severely punished your country, you have not 
 made your mother the least return for her kind- 
 ness. The most sacred ties both of nature and 
 religion, without any other constraint, require 
 that you should indulge me in this just and 
 reasonable request ; but if words cannot prevail, 
 this only resource is left.” _ When she had said 
 this, she threw herself at his feet, together with 
 his wife and children ; upon which_ Coriolanus, 
 crying out, “ O mother ! what is it you have 
 done?” raised her from the ground, and tenderly 
 pressing her hand, continued, “You have gained 
 a victory fortunate for your country, but ruinous 
 to me.t I go, vanquished by you alone.” Ihen, 
 after a short conference with his mother and wife 
 
 * Valeria first gave advice of this design to the 
 consuls, who proposed it in the senate, where, 
 after long debates, it was approved of by the 
 fathers. Then Veturia, and the most illustrious 
 of the Roman matrons, in chariots which the 
 consuls had ordered to be got ready for them, 
 took their way to the enemy’s camp. 
 
 * She begged a truce for a year, that in that 
 time measures might be taken for settling a solid 
 and lasting peace. 
 
 t He well foresaw, that the Volscians would 
 never forgive him the favour he did their enemies. 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLAIVUS, 171 
 
 in private, he sent them back to Rome, agreeably 
 to their desire. Next morning he drew off the 
 Volscians, who had not all the same sentiments 
 of what had passed. Some blamed him ; others, 
 whose inclinations were for peace, found no fault ; 
 others again, though they disliked what was done, 
 did not look upon Coriolanus as a bad man, but 
 thought he was excusable in yielding to such 
 powerful solicitations. However, none presumed 
 to contradict his orders, though they followed 
 him rather out of veneration for his virtue, than 
 regard to his authority. 
 
 The sense of the dreadful and dangerous cir- 
 cumstances which the Roman people had been in 
 by reason of the war, never appeared so strong 
 as when they were delivered from it. For no 
 sooner did they perceive from the walls, that the 
 Volscians were drawing off, than all the temples 
 were opened and filled with persons crowned with 
 garlands, and offering sacrifice, as for some great 
 victory. But in nothing was the public joy more 
 evident than in the affectionate regard and honour 
 which both the senate and people paid the women, 
 whom they both considered and declared the 
 means of their preservation. Nevertheless, when 
 the senate decreed * that whatever they thought 
 would contribute most to their glory and satis- 
 faction, the consuls should take care to see it 
 done, they only desired that a temple might be 
 built to the Fortune of noomen^ the expense of 
 which they offered to defray themselves, requiring 
 the commonwealth to be at no otner charge than 
 that of sacrifices, and such a solemn service as was 
 suitable to the majesty of the gods. The senate, 
 though they commended their generosity, ordered 
 the temple and shrine to be erected at the public 
 charge ; t but the women contributed their money 
 notwithstanding, and v/ith it provided another 
 image of the goddess, which the Romans report, 
 when it was set up in the temple, to have uttered 
 these words, “ O women ! most acceptable to the 
 gods is this your pious gift.” 
 
 They fabulously report that this voice was re- 
 peated twice, thus offering to our faith things that 
 appear impossible. Indeed, we will not deny 
 that images may have sweated, may have been 
 covered with tears, and emitted drops like blood. 
 For wood and stone often contract a scurf and 
 mouldiness, that produces moisture ; and they 
 not only exhibit many different colours them- 
 selves, but receive variety of tinctures from the 
 ambient air : at the same time there is no reason 
 why the Deity may not make use of these signs 
 to announce things to come. It is also very 
 possible that a sound like that of a sigh or a 
 groan may proceed from a statue, by the rupture 
 or violent separation of some of the interior parts : 
 but that an articulate voice and expression so 
 clear, so full and perfect, should fall from a thing 
 inanimate, is out of all the bounds of possibility. 
 For neither the soul of man, nor even God him- 
 self, can utter vocal sounds, and pronounce words, 
 
 It was decreed that an encomium of those 
 matrons should be engraven on a public monu- 
 ment. 
 
 t It was erected in the Latin way, about four 
 miles from Rome, on the place where Veturia 
 had overcome the obstinacy of her son. Valeria, 
 who had proposed so successful a deputation, was 
 the first priestess of this temple, which was much 
 frequented by the Roman women. 
 
 without an organised body and parts fitted for 
 utterance. Wherever then, history asserts such 
 things, and bears us down with the testimony of 
 many medible witnesses, we must conclude that 
 some impression not unlike that of sense, in- 
 fluenced the imagination, and produced the belief 
 of a real sensation ; as in sleep we seem to hear 
 what we hear not, and to see what we do not see. 
 As for those persons, who are possessed with such 
 a strong sense of religion, that they cannot reject 
 anything of this kind, they found their faith on 
 the wonderful and incomprehensible power of 
 God. For there is no manner of resemblance 
 between him and a human being, either in his 
 nature, his wisdom, his power, or his operations. 
 It, therefore, he performs something which we 
 cannot effect, and executes what with us is im- 
 possible, there is nothing in this contradictory to 
 reason ; since, though he far excels us in every- 
 thing, yet the dissimilitude and distance between 
 him and us appears most of all in the works which 
 he hath wrought. But “much knowledge of 
 things divine,” as Heraclitus affirms, “escapes us 
 through want of faith.” 
 
 When Coriolanus returned, after this expedi- 
 tion, to Antium, Tullus, who both hated and 
 feared him, resolved to assassinate him imme- 
 diately ; being persuaded, that if he missed this, 
 he should not have such another opportunity. 
 First, therefore, he collected and prepared a 
 number of accomplices, and then called upon 
 Coriolanus to divest himself of his authority, and 
 give an account of his conduct to the Volscians. 
 Dreading the consequence of being reduced to a 
 private station, while Tullus, who had so great 
 an interest with his countrymen, was in power, 
 he made answer, that if the Volscians required it, 
 he would give up his commission, and not other- 
 wise, since he had taken it at their common 
 request ; but that he was ready to give an account 
 of his behaviour even then, if the citizens of An- 
 tium would have it so. Hereupon, they met in 
 full assembly, and some of the orators that were 
 prepared for it, endeavoured to exasperate the 
 populace against him. But when Coriolanus 
 stood up, the violence of the tumult abated, and 
 he had liberty to speak ; the best part of the 
 people of Antium, and those that were most 
 inclined to peace, appearing ready to hear him 
 with candour, and to pass sentence with equity. 
 TuTlus was then afraid that he would make but 
 too good a defence : for he was an eloquent man, 
 and the former advantages which he had procured 
 the nation outweighed his present offence. Nay, 
 the very impeachment was a clear proof of the 
 greatness of the benefits he had conferred upon 
 them. For they would never have thought them- 
 selves injured in not conquering Rome, if they 
 had not been near taking it through his means. 
 The conspiiators, therefore, judged it prudent 
 not to wait any longer, or to try the multitude ; 
 and the boldest of their faction, crying out that 
 a traitor ought not to be heard, or suffered by the 
 Volscians to act the tyrant, and refuse to lay down 
 his authority, rushed upon him in a body, and* 
 killed him on the spot ; not one that was present 
 lifting a hand to defend him. It was soon evident 
 that this was not done with the general approba- 
 tion ; for they assembled from several cities, to 
 
 _ * Dionysius of Halicarnassus says, they stoned 
 him to death. 
 
172 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 give his body an honourable burial,* and adorned 
 his monument with arms and spoils, as became a 
 distinguished warrior and general. 
 
 * They dressed him in his general’s robes, and 
 laid his corpse on a magnificent bier, which was 
 carried by such young officers as were most dis- 
 tinguished for their martial exploits. Before him 
 were borne the spoils he had taken from the 
 enemy, the crowns he had gained, and plans of 
 the cities he had taken. In this order his body 
 was laid on the pile, while several victims were 
 slain in honour to his memory. When the pile 
 was consumed, they gathered up his ashes, which 
 they interred on the spot, and erected a magnifi- 
 cent monument there. Coriolanus was slain in 
 the second year of the seventy-third olympiad, 
 in the two hundred and sixty-sixth year of Rome, 
 and eight years alter his first campaign. Accord- 
 ing to this account he died in the flower of his 
 age ; but Livy informs us, from Fabius, a very 
 ancient author, that he lived till he was very old : 
 and that in the decline of life he was wont to say, 
 that a state of exile was always uncomfortable, 
 but more so to an old man than to another. We 
 cannot, however, think that Coriolanus grew 
 old among the Volscians. Had he done so, his 
 
 When the Romans were informed of his death, 
 they showed no sign either of favour or resent- 
 ment. Only they permitted the women, at their 
 request, to go into mourning for ten months, as 
 they used to do for a father, a son, or a brother ; 
 this being the longest term for mourning allowed 
 by Numa Pompilius, as we have mentioned in his 
 Life. 
 
 The Volscian affairs soon wanted the abilities 
 of Marcius. For, first of all, in a dispute which 
 they had with the ^qui, their friends and allies, 
 which of the two nations should give a general to 
 their armies, they proceeded to blows, and a 
 number were killed and wounded ; and after- 
 wards coming to a battle with the Romans, in 
 which they were defeated, and Tullus, together 
 with the flower of their army, slain, they ^were 
 forced to accept of very disgraceful conditions of 
 peace, by which they were reduced to the obe- 
 dience of Rome, and obliged to accept of such 
 terms as the conquerors would allow them. 
 
 counsels would have preserved them from ruin ; 
 and, after Tullus was slain, he would have restored 
 their affairs, and have got them admitted to the 
 rights and privileges of Roman citizens, in the 
 same manner as the Latins. 
 
 ALCIBIADES AND CORIOLANUS COMPARED. 
 
 Having now given a detail of all the actions of 
 these two great men that we thought worthy to 
 be known and remembered, we may perceive at 
 one glance that as to their military exploits the 
 balance is nearly even. For both gave extra- 
 ordinary proofs of courage as soldiers, and of 
 prudence and capacity as commanders in chief : 
 though perhaps some may think Alcibiades the 
 more complete general, on account of his many 
 successful expeditions at sea as well as land. But 
 this is common to both, that when they had the 
 command, and fought in person, the affairs of 
 their country infallibly prospered, and as infallibly 
 declined when they went over to the enemy. 
 
 As to their behaviour in point of government, 
 if the licentiousness of Alcibiades, and his com- 
 pliances with the humour of the populace, were 
 abhorred by the wise and sober part of the Athe- 
 nians ; the proud and forbidding manner of 
 Coriolanus, and his excessive attachment to the 
 patricians, were equally detested by the Roman 
 people. In this respect, therefore, neither of them 
 IS to be commenaed ; though he that avails him- 
 self of popular arts, and shows too much in- 
 dulgence, is less blamable than he who, to avoid 
 the imputation of obsequiousness, treats the people 
 with severity. It is, indeed, a disgrace to attain 
 to power by flattering them ; but on the other 
 hand, to pursue it by acts of insolence and oppres- 
 sion, is not only shameful, but unjust. 
 
 That Coriolanus had an openness and simplicity 
 of manners is a point beyond dispute, whilst Alci- 
 biades was crafty and dark in the proceedings of 
 his- administration.^ The latter has been most 
 blamed for the trick which he put upon the 
 Lacedaemonian ambassadors, as Thucydides tells 
 us, and by which he renewed the war. Yet this 
 stroke of policy, though it plunged Athens again 
 in war, rendered the alliance with the Mantineans 
 and Argives, which was brought about by Alci- 
 
 biades, much stronger and more respectable. But 
 was not Coriolanus chargeable with a falsity too, 
 when, as Dionysius informs us, he stirred up the 
 Romans against the Volscians, by loading the 
 latter with an imfamous calumny, when they 
 went to see the public games? The cause, too, 
 makes this action the more criminal : for it was 
 not by ambition or a rival spirit in politics that he 
 was influenced, as Alcibiades was ; but he did 
 it to gratify his anger, “a passion which,” as 
 Dion says, “is ever ungrateful to its votaries.” 
 By this means they disturbed all Italy, and in his 
 quarrel with his country destroyed many cities 
 which had never done him any injury. Alcibiades, 
 indeed, was the author of many evils to the Athe- 
 nians, but was easily reconciled to them, when 
 he found that they repented. Nay, when he was 
 driven a second time into exile, he could not bear 
 with patience the blunders committed by the new 
 generals, nor see with indiflference the dangers to 
 which they were exposed ; but observed the same 
 conduct which Aristides is so highly extolled for 
 with respect to Themistbcles. He went in person 
 to those generals, who, he knew, were not his 
 friends, and showed them what steps it was proper 
 for them to take. Whereas Coriolanus directed 
 his revenge against the whole commonwealth, 
 though he had not been injured by the whole, 
 but the best and most respectable part both 
 suffered and sympathized with him. And after- 
 wards, when the Romans endeavoured to make 
 satisfaction for that single grievance by many 
 embassies and much submission, he was not in 
 the least pacified or won ; but showed himself 
 determined to prosecute a cruel war, not in order 
 to procure his return to his native country, but 
 to conquer and to ruin it. It may, indeed, be 
 granted, that there was this difference in the 
 case : Alcibiades returned to the Athenians, when 
 the Spartans, who both feared and hated him. 
 
I ALCIBIADES AXD CORIOLANUS COMPARED. 173 
 
 intended to despatch him privately. But it was 
 net so honourable in Coriolanus to desert the 
 Volseians, who had treated him \^-ith the utmost 
 kindness, appointed him general with full autho- 
 rity, and reposed in him the highest confidence : 
 ver^’ different in this respect from Alcibiades, who 
 was abused, to their own purposes, rather than 
 employed and trusted by the Lacedaemonians; 
 and who, after having been tossed about in their 
 city and their camp, was at last obliged to put 
 himself in the hands of Tissaphemes. But, per- 
 haps, he made his court to the Persian * in order 
 to prevent the utter ruin of his country, to which 
 he was desirous to return. 
 
 ! Historj’ informs us, that Alcibiades often took 
 j bribes, which he lavished again w*ith equal dis- 
 ; credit upon his ricious pleasures ; while Corio- 
 : lanus reused to receive even what the generals 
 j he ser\’ed under would have given him with 
 honour. Hence the behavioiu- of the latter was 
 the more detested by the people in the disputes 
 . about debts ; since it was not with a view to 
 i advantage, but out of contempt and by w*ay of 
 : insult, as they thought, that he bore so hard upon 
 
 I . . 
 
 ! Antipater, in one of his epistles, where he 
 : speaks of the death of Aristotle, the philosopher, 
 tells us, “That great man, besides his other 
 ; extraordinary talents, had the art of insinuating 
 I himself into the affections of those he convers;ed 
 with.” For want of this talent, the great actions 
 and virtues of Coriolanus were odious even to 
 those who received the benefit of them, and who, 
 notwithstanding, could not endure that “ austerity 
 which,” as Plato sa\’s “ is the companion of soli- 
 tude.” But as Alcibiades, on the other hand, 
 knew how to treat those with w^hom he conversed . 
 with an engaging civility, it is no wonder if the 
 glory of his exploits flom^ed in the favour and 
 honourable regard of mankind, since his verj’ 
 faults had sometimes their grace and elegance. 
 Hence it that though his conduct w*as often 
 very prejudicial to Athens, yet he w'as frequently 
 appointed commander in chief; while Coriolanus, 
 
 . after many great achievements, with the best pre- 
 tensions, sued for the consulship, and lost it. 
 
 . The former deserved to be hated by his country- 
 ' men, and was not ; the latter was not beloved, 
 though at the .same time he was admired, 
 i We should, moreover, consider, that Coriolanus 
 i performed no considerable services, while he com- 
 ; manded the armies of his county, though for the 
 enemy against his country he did ; but that Alci- 
 biades, both as a soldier and a general, did great 
 things for the Athenians. When amongst his 
 fellow-citizens, Alcibiades was superior to all the 
 attempts of his enemies, though their calumnies 
 prevailed against him in his absence ; whereas 
 Coriolanus w'as condemned by the Romans, 
 though present to defend himseh ; and at length 
 , killed by the Volscians, against all rights, indeed, 
 whether human or divine : nevertheless, he 
 
 ; afforded them a colour for what they did, by 
 I granting that peace to the entreaties of the 
 
 * For he prevented Tissaphemes from assisting 
 the Spartans with all his forces. Thus he served 
 the Athenians and the Persians at the same time. 
 F or it was undoubtedly the interest of the Persians 
 to preserve the two leading powers of Greece in 
 a condition to annoy each other ; and, in the 
 mean tune, to reap the advantage themselves. 
 
 women, which he had refused to the ax>plicaticn 
 of the ambassadors ; by that means lea\’ing the 
 enmity between the two nations, and the grounds 
 of the war entire, and losing a very favourable 
 opportunity for the Volscians. For surely he 
 would not have dra^vn off the forces without the ; 
 consent of those that committed them -o his con- j 
 duct, if he had sufficiently regarded his duty to j 
 
 them. ^ ! 
 
 But if, without considering the Volscians in the ^ 
 
 least, he consulted his resentment only in stirring i 
 up the war, and put a period to it again when ' 
 that v/as satisfied, he should not have spared his . 
 county on his mother’s account, but have spared ■ 
 her with it : for both his mother and wife made a ; 
 part of his native city which he was b^ieging. ; 
 But inhumanly to reject the application and 
 entreaties of the ambassadors, and the petition of 
 the priests, and then to consent to a retreat in 
 favour of lus mother, was not doing honour to his 
 mother, but bringing disgrace upon his country ; 
 since, as if it was not worthy to be saved for its 
 own sake, it appeared to be saved only in com- 
 passion to a woman. For the favour was in- 
 \ddious, and so far from being engaging, that, in 
 fact, it savoured of cruelty, and corisequently was 
 unacceptable to both parties. H e retired without 
 being w’on by the supplications of those he was at 
 war with, and without consent of those for whom 
 he undertook it. The cause of all which was, the 
 austerity of his manners, his arrogance and in- 
 flexibility of mind, things hateful enough to the ' 
 people at all times ; but, when united with am- = 
 bition, savage and intolerable. Persons of his j 
 temper, as if they had no need of honours, neglect 
 to ingratiate themselves w’ th the multitude, and ! 
 yet are excessively chagrined wffien t ose are 
 denied them. It is true, neither Metellus, nor 
 Aristides, nor Epaminondas, were pliant to the ; 
 people’s humour, or could submit to flatter them ; 
 but then they had a thorough contempt of every- : 
 thing that the people could either give or take ^ 
 away ; and when they were banished, or, on any > 
 other occasion, miscarried in the suffr^es, or ; 
 were condemn^ in large fines, they nourished no ! 
 anger against their ungrateful countrymen, bat | 
 were satisfied with their repentance, and recon- [ 
 ciled to them at their request. And, surely, he j 
 who is sparing in his assiduities to the people, j 
 can but with an ill grace think of revenging any | 
 slight he may suffer : for extreme resentment, in ! 
 case of disappointn;ent in a pursuit of honour, 
 must be the effect of an extreme desire of it. 
 
 Alcibiades, for his part, readily acknowledged, 
 that he was charmed with honours, and that he 
 was very uneasy at being neglected ; and there- 
 fore he endeavoured to recommend himself to 
 those he had to do with, by every engaging art. 
 But the pride of Corioianus would not permit him 
 to make his court to those who were capable of 
 conferring honours up>on him ; and at the same 
 time his ambition filled him wath regret and 
 indignation w’hen they passed him by. This, 
 
 then, is the blamable part of his character ; all 
 the rest is great and glorious. In point of tem- 
 perance and disregard of riches, he is fit to be 
 compared with the most illustrious examples of 
 integrity in Greece, and not w th Alcibiades,^ 
 who, in this respect, w*as the most profligate of j 
 men, and had the least regard for decency and 
 honour. 
 
174 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 TIMOLEON. 
 
 The affairs of the S^n-acusans, before Timoleon 
 ■was sent into Sicily, were in this posture : Dion, 
 having driven out Dionysius the tyrant, was soon 
 assassinated ; those that with him had been the 
 means of delivering Syracuse, were divided among 
 themselves ; and the city, which only changed 
 one tyrant for another, was oppressed with so 
 many miseries, that it was almost desolate.* As 
 for the rest o Sicily, the wars had made part 
 of it quite a desert, and most of the towns that 
 remained were held by a confused mixture of 
 barbarians and soldiers, who, having no regular 
 pay, were ready for every change of government. 
 
 Such being the state of things, Dionysius, in 
 the tenth year after his expulsion, having got 
 together a body of foreigners, drove out Nysseus, 
 then master of Syracuse, restored his own affairs, 
 and re-established himself in his dominions. Thus 
 he who had been unaccountably stripped by a 
 small body of men of the greatest power that any 
 tyrant ever possessed, still more unaccountably, 
 of a beggarly fugitive, became the master of 
 those who had expelled him. All, therefore, who 
 remained in Syracuse, became slaves to a tyrant, 
 who at the best was of an ungentle nature, and at 
 that time exasperated by his misfortunes to a 
 degree of savage ferocity. But the best and most 
 considerable of the citizens having retired to 
 Icetes, prince of the Leontines, put themselves 
 under his protection, and chose him for their 
 general. Not that he was better than the most 
 avowed tyrants ; but they had no other resource : 
 and they were willing to repose some confidence 
 in him, as being of a Syracusan family, and 
 having an army able to encounter that of Diony- 
 sius. 
 
 In the mean time, the Carthaginians appearing 
 before Sicily with a great fleet, and being likely 
 to avail themselves of the disordered state of the 
 island, the Sicilians, struck with terror, deter- 
 mined to send an embassy into Greece to beg 
 assistance of the Corinthians; not only on ac- 
 count of their kindred to that people,! and the 
 many services they had received from them on 
 former occasions, but because they knew that 
 Corinth was always a patroness of liberty, and 
 
 * Upon Dion’s death, his murderer Callippus 
 usurped the supreme power ; but after ten months 
 he was driven out, and slain with the same dagger 
 which he had planted in the breast of his friend. 
 Hipparinus, the brother of Dionysius, arriving 
 with a numerous fleet, possessed himself of the 
 city of Syracuse, and held it for the space of two 
 years. Syracuse and all Sicily being thus divided 
 into parties and factions, Dionysius the younger, 
 who had been driven from the throne, taking 
 advantage of these troubles, assembled some 
 foreign troops ; and having defeated Nysaeus, 
 who was then governor of Syracuse, reinstated 
 himself in his dominions. 
 
 t The Syracusans were a colony from Corinth, 
 founded by Archias the Corinthian, in the second 
 year of the eleventh olympiad, 733 j^ears before 
 the Christian era. Sicily had been planted with 
 Phoenicians and other barbarous people, as the 
 Grecians called them, above 300 years before. 
 
 an enemy to tyrants, and that she had engaged 
 in rnany considerable wars, not from a motive of 
 amlition or avarice, but to maintain the freedom 
 and independency of Greece. Hereupon Icetes, 
 whose intention in accepting the command was 
 not so much to deliver Syracuse from its tyrants, 
 as to set up himself there in the same capacity, 
 treated privately with the Carthaginians, while 
 m public he commended the design of the Syra- 
 cusans, and despatched ambassadors along with 
 theirs into Peloponnesus. Not that he was de- 
 desirous of succours from thence, but he hoped 
 that if the Corinthians, on account of the troubles 
 of Greece and their engagementsat home, should, 
 as it was likely enough, decline sending any, he 
 rnight the more easily incline the balance to the 
 side of the Carthaginians, and then make use of 
 their alliance and their forces, either against the 
 Syracusans or their present tyrant. That such 
 were his views, a little time discovered. 
 
 When the ambassadors arrived, and their busi- 
 ness was known, the Corinthians, always accus- 
 tomed to give particular attention to the concerns 
 of the colonies, and especially those of Syracuse, 
 since by good fortune they had nothing to molest 
 them in their own country, readily passed a vote 
 that the succours should be granted. The next 
 thing to be considered was, who should be general ; 
 when the magistrates put in nomination such as 
 had endeavoured to distinguish themselves in the 
 state ; but one of the plebeians stood up and pro- 
 posed Timoleon, the son of Timodemus, who as 
 yet had no share in the business of the common- 
 wealth, and was so far from hoping or wishing 
 for such an appointment, that it seemed some god 
 inspired him with the thought : with such in- 
 dulgence did fortune immediately promote his 
 election, and so much did her favour afterwards 
 signalize his actions, and add lustre to his valour ! 
 
 His parentage was noble on both sides ; for 
 both his father Timodemus, and his mother De- 
 mariste, were^ of the best families in Corinth. 
 His love of his country was remarkable, and so 
 was the mildness of his disposition, saving that 
 he bore an extreme hatred to tyrants and wicked 
 men. His natural abilities for war were so happily 
 tempered, that as an extraordinary prudence was 
 seen in the enterprises of his younger years, so 
 an undaunted courage distinguished his declining 
 age. He had an elder brother, named Tirao- 
 phanes, who resembled him in nothing; being 
 rash and indiscreet of himself, and utterly cor- 
 rupted besides, by the passion for sovereignty, 
 infused into him by some of his profligate ac- 
 quaintance, and certain foreign soldiers whom he 
 had always about him. He appeared to be im- 
 petuous in war, and to court danger, which gave 
 his countrymen such an opinion of his courage 
 and activity, that they frequently entrusted him 
 with the command of the army. And in these 
 matters, Timoleon much assisted him, by entirely 
 concealing, or at least extenuating his faults, and 
 inagnifying the good qualities which nature had 
 given him. 
 
 In a battle between the Corinthians and the 
 troops of Argos and Cleone, Timoleon happened 
 to serve among the infantry, when Timophanes, 
 
TIMOLEbJV. 
 
 who was at the head of the cavalry, was brought 
 into extreme danger : for his horse being wounded, 
 threw him amidst the enemy. Hereupon, part of 
 his companions were frightened, and presently 
 dispersed ; and the few that remained, having to 
 fight with numbers, with difficulty stood tneir 
 ground. Timoleon, seeing his brother in these 
 circumstances, ran to his as.sistance, and covered 
 him as he lay with his shield ; and after having 
 received abundance of darts, and many strokes of 
 the sword upon his body and his armour, by great 
 efforts repulsed the enemy, and saved him. 
 
 Some time after this, the Corinthians, appre- 
 hensive that their city might be surprised through 
 some treachery of their allies, as it had been be- 
 fore resolved to keep on foot 400 mercenaries, 
 gave the command of them to Timophanes. But 
 he, having no regard to justice or honour, soon 
 entered into measures to subject the city to him- 
 self, and having put to death a number of the 
 principal inhabitants without form of trial, de- 
 clared himself absolute prince of it. Timoleon, 
 greatly concerned at this, and accounting the 
 treacherous proceedings of his brother his ov/n 
 misfortune, went to expostulate with him, and 
 endeavoured to persuade him to renounce this 
 madness and unfortunate ambition, and to bethink 
 himself how to make his fellow-citizens some 
 amends for the crimes he had committed. But 
 as he rejected his single admonition with disdain, 
 he returned a few days after, taking with him a 
 kinsman, named i^schylas, brother to the wife 
 of Timophanes, and a certain soothsayer, a friend 
 of his, whom Theopompus calls Satyrus, but 
 Ephorus and Timseus mention by the name of 
 Orthogras. These three, standing round him, 
 earnestly entreated him yet to listen to reason 
 and change his mind. Timophanes at first laughed 
 at them, and afterwards gave way to a violent 
 passion : upon which, Timoleon stepped aside, 
 and stood weeping, with his face covered, while 
 the other two drew their swords, and despatched 
 him in a moment.* 
 
 The matter being soon generally known, the 
 principal and most valuable part of the Corin- 
 thians extolled Timoleon’s detestation of wicked- 
 ness, and that greatness of soul, which, notwith- 
 standing the gentleness of his heart and his 
 affection to his relations, led him to prefer his 
 country to his family, and justice and honour to 
 interest and advantage. While his brother fought 
 valiantly for his country, he had saved him ; and 
 slain him, when he had treacherously enslaved 
 it. Those who knew not how to live in a de- 
 mocracy, and had been used to make their court 
 to men in^ power, pretended indeed to rejoice at 
 the tyrant's death ; but at the same time reviling 
 Timoleon, as guilty of a horrible and impious 
 
 * Diodorus, in the circumstances of this fact, 
 differs from Plutarch. He tells us, that Timoleon 
 having killed his brother in the market-place with 
 his own hand, a great tumult arose among the 
 citizens. To appease this tumult, an assembly 
 was convened ; and in the height of their debates 
 the Syracusan ambassadors arrived, demanding a 
 general ; whereupon they unanimously agreed to 
 send Timoleon ; but first let him know, that if he 
 discharged his duty there well, he should be con- 
 sidered as one who had killed a tyrant ; if not, as 
 the murderer of his brother. Diodor, Sicul. 
 
 1. xvi. c. 10. 
 
 deed, they created him great uneasiness. When 
 he heard how heavily his mother bore it, and 
 that she uttered the most dread. ul wishes and 
 imprecations against him, he went to excuse it 
 and to console her : but she could not endure 
 the thought of seeing him, and ordered the 
 doors to be shut against him. He then became 
 entirely a prey to sorrow, and attempted to put 
 an end to his life by abstaining from all man- 
 ner of food. In these unhappy circumstances 
 his friends did not abandon him. They even 
 added force to their entreaties till they prevailed 
 on him to live. He determined, however, to live 
 in solitude : and accordingly he withd.^ew from 
 all public affairs, and for some years did not so 
 much as approach the city, but wandered about 
 the most gloomy parts of his grounds, and gave 
 himself up to melancholy. Thus the judgment, 
 if it borrows not from reason and philosophy 
 sufficient strength and steadiness for action, is 
 easily unsettled and depraved by any casual com- 
 mendation or dispraise, and depai ts from its own 
 purposes. For an action should not only be just 
 and laudable in itself, but the principle from 
 which it proceeds firm and immovable, m order 
 that our conduct may have the sanction of our 
 own approbation. Otherwise, upon the com- 
 pletion of any undertaking, we shall, through 
 our own weakness, be filled with sorrow and 
 remorse, and the splendid ideas of honour and 
 virtue that led us to perform it, will vanish ; just 
 as the glutton is soon cloyed and disgusted with 
 the luscious viands which he had devoured with 
 too keen an appetite. Repentance tarnishes the 
 best actions ; whereas the purposes ttiat are 
 grounded upon knowledge and reason never 
 change, though they may happen to be disap- 
 pointed of success. Hence it was that Phocion 
 of Athens, having vigorously opposed the pro- 
 ceedings of Leosthenes,* which, notwithstanding, 
 turned out much more happily than he expected ; 
 when he saw the Athenians offering sacrifice and 
 elated with their victory, told them he was glad 
 oi their success, but if it was to do over again, 
 he should give the same counsel. Still stronger 
 was the answer which Aristides the Locrian, one 
 of Plato’s intimate friends, gave to Dionysius the 
 elder, when he demanded one of his daughters in 
 marriage, “ I had rather see the virgin in her 
 grave than in the palace of a tyrant.” And when 
 Dionysius soon after put his son to death, and 
 then insolently asked him what he now thought 
 as to the disposal of his daughter, “ I am sorry,” 
 said he, “ for what you have done, but I am not 
 sorry for what I said.” However, it is only a 
 superior and highly accomplished virtue that can 
 attain such heights as these. 
 
 As for Timoleon’s extreme dejection in con- 
 sequence of the late fact, whether it proceeded 
 from regret of his brother’s fate, or the reverence 
 he bore his mother, it so shattered and impaired 
 his spirits, that for almost twenty years he was 
 concerned in no important or public affair. 
 
 When, therefore, he was pitched upon for 
 general, and accepted as such by the suffrages 
 of the people, Teleclides, a man of the greatest 
 power and reputation in Corinth, exhorted him to 
 behave well, and to exert a generous valour in 
 the execution of his commission : “For,” said he, 
 “if your conduct be good, we shall consider you 
 
 * See the Life of Phocion. 
 
176 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 as the destroj’-er of a tyrant ; if bad, as the mur- 
 derer of your brother. ” 
 
 While Timoleon was assembling his forces, and 
 preparing to set sail, the Corinthians received 
 letters from Icetes, which plainly discovered his 
 revolt and treachery. For his ambassadors were 
 no sooner set out for Corinth, than he openly 
 joined the Carthaginians, and acted in concert 
 with them, in order to expel Dionysius from 
 Syracuse, and usurp the tyranny himself. Fear- 
 ing, moreover, lest he should lose his opportunity 
 by the speedy arrival of the army from Corinth, 
 he wrote to the Corinthians to acquaint them that 
 there was no occasion for them to put themselves 
 to trouble and expense, or to expose themselves 
 to the dangers of a voyage to Sicily ; particularly 
 as the Carthaginians would oppose them, and 
 were watching for their ships with a numerous 
 fleet; and that indeed, on account of the slowness 
 of their motions, he had been forced to engage 
 those very Carthaginians to assist him against the 
 tyrant. 
 
 If any of the Corinthians before were cold and 
 indifferent as to the expedition, upon the reading 
 of these letters they were one and all so incensed 
 against Icetes, that they readily supplied Timoleon 
 with whatever he wanted, and united their endea- 
 vours to expedite his sailing. 
 
 When the fleet was equipped, and the soldiers 
 provided with all that was necessary, the priest- 
 esses of Proserpine had a dream, wherein that 
 goddess and her mother Ceres appeared to them 
 in a travelling garb, and told them, that they 
 intended to accompany Timoleon into Sicily. 
 Hereupon the Corinthians equipped a sacred 
 galley, which they called the galley of the god- 
 desses. Timoleon himself went to Delphi, where 
 he offered sacrifice to Apollo ; and, upon his 
 descending into the place where the oracles were 
 delivered, was surprised with this wonderful 
 occurrence : A wreath, embroidered with crowns 
 and images of victory, slipped down from among 
 the offerings that were hung up there, and fell 
 upon Timoleon ’s head, so that Apollo seemed to 
 send him out crowned upon that enterprise. 
 
 He had seven ships of Corinth, two of Corcyra, 
 and a tenth fitted out by the Leucadians, with 
 which he put to sea. It was in the night that he 
 set sail, and with a prosperous gale he was making 
 his way, when on a sudden the heavens seemed 
 to be rent asunder, and to pour upon his ship a 
 bright and spreading flame, which soon formed 
 itself into a torch, such as is used in the sacred 
 mysteries ; and having conducted them through 
 their whole course, brought them to that quarter 
 of Italy for which they designed to steer. The 
 soothsaj’^ers declared that this appearance perfectly 
 agreed with the dream of the priestesses, and that 
 by this light from heaven, the goddesses showed 
 themselves interested in the success of the expe- 
 dition. Particularly as Sicily was sacred to 
 Proserpine ; it being fabled that her rape hap- 
 pened there, and that the island was bestowed 
 on her as a nuptial gift. 
 
 The fleet, thus encouraged with tolcens of the 
 divine favour, very soon crossed the sea, and made 
 the coast of Italy. But the news brought thither 
 from Sicily much perplexed Timoleon, and dis- 
 heartened his forces. For Icetes having beaten 
 Dionysius in a set battle,* and taken great part 
 
 * Icetes, finding himself in want of provisions. 
 
 of Syracuse, had, by a line of circumvallation, 
 shut up the tyrant in the citadel and that part of 
 city which is cailed the island^ and besieged him 
 there. At the same time he ordered the Cartha- 
 ginians to take care that Timoleon should not 
 land in Sicily ; hoping, when the Corinthians 
 were driven off, without farther opposition, to 
 share the island with his new allies. The Cartha- 
 ginians, accordingly, sent away twenty of their 
 galleys to Rhegium, in which were ambassadors 
 from Icetes to Timoleon, charged with proposals 
 quite as captious as his proceedings themselves : 
 for they were nothing but specious and artful 
 v/ords, invented to give a colour to his treacherous 
 designs. They were to make an offer, that 
 Timoleon might, if he thought proper, go and 
 assist Icetes with his counsel, and share in his 
 successes ; but that he must send back his ships 
 and troops to Corinth, since the war was almost 
 finished, and the Carthaginians were determined 
 to prevent their passage, and ready to repel force 
 with force. 
 
 The Corinthians, then, as soon as they arrived 
 at Rhegium, meeting with this embassy, and 
 seeing the Carthaginians riding at anchor near 
 them, were vexed at the insult : a general indig- 
 nation was expressed against Icetes, and fear for 
 the Sicilians, whom they plainly saw left as a 
 prize, to reward Icetes for his treachery, and the 
 Carthaginians for assisting in setting him up 
 tyrant. And it seemed impossible for them to 
 get the better, either of the barbarians, who were 
 watching them with double the number of sh ps, 
 or of the forces of Icetes, which they had expected 
 would have joined them, and put themselves 
 under their command. 
 
 _ Timoleon, on this occasion, coming to an inter- 
 view with the ambassadors and the Carthaginian 
 commanders, mildly said he would submit to 
 their proposals (for what could he gain by 
 opposing them?), but he was desirous that they 
 would give them in publicly before the people 
 of Rhegium, ere he quitted that place, since it 
 was a Grecian city, and common friend to both 
 parties. For that this tended to his security, 
 and they themselves would stand more firmly 
 to their engagements, if they took that people 
 for witnesses to them. 
 
 This overture he made only to amuse them, 
 intending all the while to steal a passage, and the 
 magistrates of Rhegium entered heartily into his 
 scheme ; for they v/ished to see the affairs of 
 Sicily in Corinthian hands, and dreaded the 
 neighbourhood of the barbarians. They sum- 
 moned, therefore, an assembly, and shut the 
 gates, lest the citizens should go about any other 
 business. Being convened, they made long 
 speeches, one of them taking up the argument 
 where another laid it down, with no other view 
 than to gain time for the Corinthian galleys to 
 get under sail ; and the Carthaginians were easily 
 detained in the assembly, as having no suspicion, 
 because Timoleon was present, and it was ex- 
 
 withdrew from the siege of Syracuse towards his 
 own country ; whereupon Dionysius marched out 
 and attacked his rear. But Icetes facing about, 
 defeated him, killed 3000 of his men, and pursuing 
 him into the city, got possession of part of it. 
 Our author observes a little below, that Syracuse 
 being divided by strong walls, was as it were an 
 assemblage of cities. 
 
TIMOLEON. 
 
 pected every moment that he would stand up and 
 make his speech. But upon secret notice that 
 the other galleys had put to sea,* and his alone 
 was left behind, by the help of the Rhegians who 
 pressed close to the rostrum^ and concealed him 
 amongst them, he slipped through the crowd, got 
 down to the shore, and hoisted sail with all speed. 
 
 He soon arrived, with all his vessels, at Tau- 
 romenium in Sicily, to which he had been invited 
 some time before, and where he was now kindly 
 received, by Andromachus, lord of that city. 
 1 his Andromachus was father to Timaeus the 
 being much the best of all the 
 Sicilian princes of his time, he both governed his 
 own people agreeably to the laws and principles 
 of justice, and had ever avowed his aversion and 
 enmity to tyrants. On this account he readily 
 allowed Timoleon to make his city a place of 
 arms, and persuaded his people to co-operate 
 with the Corinthians with all their force, in 
 restoring liberty to the whole island. 
 
 The Carthaginians at Rhegium, upon the 
 breaking up of the assembly, seeing that Timo- 
 leon was gone, were vexed to find themselves 
 outwitted ; and it afforded no small diversion to 
 the Rhegians, that Phoenicians should complain 
 of anything effected by guile. 
 
 They despatched, however, one of their galleys 
 with an ambassador to Tauromenium, who repre- 
 sented the affair at large to Andromachus, insist- 
 mg ''fith much insolence and barbaric pride, that 
 he should immediately turn the Corinthians out 
 • u ^ town ; and at last showing him his hand 
 with the palm upwards, and then turning it down 
 again, told him^if he did not comply with that 
 condition, the Carthaginians would overturn his 
 city just as he had turned his hand. Andromachus 
 only smiled, and without making him any other 
 answer, stretched out his hand, first with one side 
 up, and then the other, and bade him begone 
 directly, if he did not choose to have his ship 
 turned upside down in the same manner. 
 
 Icetes hearing that Timoleon had made good 
 his passage, was much alarmed, and sent for a 
 great number of the Carthaginian galleys. The 
 oyracusans then began to despair of a deliver- 
 ance ; tor they saw the Carthaginians masters of 
 their ^rbour,t Icetes possessed of the city, and 
 hie citadel in the hands of Dionysius ; while 
 Timoleon held only by a small border of the 
 skins of Sicily, the little town of Tauromenium, 
 with a feeble hope and an inconsiderable force, 
 having no more than looo men, and provisions 
 barely sufficient for them. Nor had the Sicilian 
 states any confidence in him, plunged as they 
 were in misfortunes, and exasperated against all 
 that pretended to lead armies to their succour 
 particularly on account of the perfidy of Callippus 
 and Pharax. The one was an Athenian, and the 
 other a Lacedemonian, and both came with 
 professions to do great things for the liberty of 
 oicily, and for demolishing the tyrants ; yet the 
 bicuians soon found that the retgn of former 
 oppressors was comparatively a golden age, and 
 
 177 
 
 The Carthaginians believed that the de- 
 parture of those nine galleys for Corinth had 
 oeen agreed on between the officers of both 
 partie^ and that the tenth was left behind to 
 carry Timoleon to Icetes. 
 f \ The Carthaginians had i5omen-of-war, 50,000 
 toot, and 300 chariots. 
 
 reckoned those far more happy who died in 
 servitude than such as lived to see so dismal a 
 kind of freedom. Expecting, therefore, that this 
 Corinthian deliverer would be no better than 
 those before him, and that the deceitful hand of 
 art would reach but to them the same bait of 
 good hopes and fair promises, to draw them into 
 subjection to a new master, they all, except the 
 people of Adranum, suspected the designs of 
 ^0^'i^t^u.ans, and declined their proposals. 
 Adranum was a small city, consecrated to the 
 ^d Aaranus, ' who was held in high veneration 
 throughout all Sicily. Its inhabitants were at 
 variance with each other ; some calling in Icetes 
 and the Carthaginians, and others applying to 
 iimoleon. Both generals striving which stiould 
 get there first, as fortune would have it, arrived 
 about the same time. But Icetes had 5000 men 
 with him, and Timoleon 1200 at the most, whom 
 he drew out of Tauromenium, which was forty-two 
 miles and a half from Adranum. The first day 
 he made but a short march, and pitched his tents 
 m good time. The next day he marched forward 
 at a great pace, though the road was very ruerged * 
 and towards evening was informed that Icetes 
 had just reached the town, and was encampincr 
 before it. At the same time his officers made the 
 foremost division halt, to take some refreshment, 
 that they might be the more vigorous in the 
 ensuing engagement. This, however, was against 
 the opinion of Iimoleon, who entreated them to 
 inarch forward as fast as possible, and to attack 
 the enemy before they were put in order; it being 
 probable now they were just come off their 
 march, that they were employed in pitching their 
 tents and preparing their supper. He had no 
 sooner given this order, than he took his buckler 
 and put himself at the head of them, as leading 
 thern on to undoubted victory. 
 
 nien, thus encouraged, followed him very 
 cheerfully, being now not quite thirty furlongs 
 from Adranum. As soon as they came up, they 
 fell upon the enemy, who were in great confusion, 
 and ready to fly at their first approach. For this 
 reason not many more than three hundred were 
 kilkd, but twice as many were made prisoners, 
 and the camp was taken. 
 
 Upon this the people of Adranum opened their 
 fo Timoleon, and joined his party, declarin'^ 
 wnth terror and astonishment, that during the 
 battle, the sacred doors of the temple opened of 
 their own accord, the spear of their god was seen 
 to shake to the very point, and his face dropped 
 with sweat. These things did not foreshow that 
 but the future successes to which 
 this dispute was a fortunate prelude. For several 
 cities, by their ambassadors, immediately joined in 
 alliance with Timoleon ; and Mamercus, sovereign 
 of Catana, a warlike and wealthy prince, entered 
 into the confederacy. But what was still more 
 material, Dionys us himself, having bid adieu to 
 hope, and unable to hold out much longer, 
 despising Icetes, who was so shamefully beaten^ 
 and admiring the bravery of Timoleon, offered to 
 deliver up to him and the Corinthians both him- 
 seli and the citadel. 
 
 Timoleon accepted of this good fortune so 
 superior to his hopes, and sent Euclides and 
 
 ^ * This deity, by his insignia afterwards men- 
 tioned, should seem to be Mars. His temple was 
 guarded by 100 dogs. 
 
 N 
 
Telemachus, two Corinthian officers, into the 
 citadel, as he did 400 men besides, not all to- 
 gether, nor openly, for that was impossible, 
 because the enemy were upon their guard, but 
 by stealth, and a few at a time. This corps then 
 took possession of the citadel and the tyrant’s 
 movables, with all that he had provided for carry- 
 ing on the war, namely, a good number of horses, 
 all manner o. engines, and a vast quantity of 
 darts. They found also arms for 70,000 rnen 
 which had been laid up of old, and 2000 soldiers 
 with Dionysius, whom he delivered up along 
 with the store to Timoleon. But the tyrant 
 reserved his money to himself, and having got on 
 board a ship, he sailed with a few of his friends, 
 without being perceived by Icetes, and reached 
 the camp of Timoleon. 
 
 Then it was that he first appeared in the humble 
 figure of a private man,* * * § * * and, as such, he was 
 sent with one ship and a very moderate sum of 
 money, to Corinth ; he that was born in a splendid 
 court, and educated as heir to the most absolute 
 monarchy that ever existed. He held it for ten 
 years ; t and for twelve more, from the time that 
 Dion took up arms against him, he was exercised 
 continually in wars and troubles : insomuch that 
 the mischiefs caused by his tyranny were abun- 
 dantly recompensed upon his own head, in what 
 he suffered. He saw his sons die in their youth, 
 his daughters deflowered, and his sister, who was 
 also his wife, exposed to the brutal lusts of his 
 enemies, and then slaughtered with her children, 
 and thrown into the sea : as we have related more 
 particularly in the Life of Dion. 
 
 When Diony.sius -arrived at Corinth, there was 
 hardly a man in Greece w'ho was not desirous to 
 see him and discourse with him. Some hating 
 the man, and rejoicing at his misfortunes, came 
 for the pleasure of insulting him in his pi*esent 
 distress ; others, whose sentiments, with respect 
 to him, were somewhat changed, and who were 
 touched with compassion for his fate, plainly saw 
 the influence of an invisible and divine power, 
 displayed in the affairs of feeble mortals. For 
 neither nature nor art produced in those times 
 anything so remarkable as that work of fortune, X 
 which showed the man who was lately sovereign 
 of Sicily, now holding conversation in a butcher’s 
 • shop at Corinth, or sitting whole days in a per- 
 fumer's ; or drinking the diluted wine of taverns ; 
 or squabbling in the streets with lewd women ; or 
 directing female musicians in their singing, and 
 disputing with them seriously about the harmony 
 of certain airs that were sung in the theatre. § 
 
 * Dionysius was born to absolute power, whereas 
 most other tyrants,, Dionysius the elder, for in- 
 stance, had raised themselves to it, and some from 
 a mean condition. 
 
 t For he began his reign in the first year of 
 the hundred and third olympiad, three hundred 
 and sixty years before the Christian era. Dion 
 took arms against him in the fourth year of the 
 hundred and fifth olympiad ; and he delivered up 
 the citadel to Timoleon, and was sent to Corinth, 
 in the first year of the hundred and ninth. 
 
 f Plutarch adds nor art^ to give us to under- 
 stand that the tragic poets had not represented so 
 signal a catastrophe, even in fable. 
 
 § Some writers tell us, that the extreme poverty 
 to which he was reduced, obliged him to open a 
 school at Corinth, where he exercised that tyranny 
 
 Some were of opinion, that he fell into these 
 unworthy amusements, as being naturally idle, 
 effeminate, and dissolute ; but others thought it 
 was a stroke of policy, and that he rendered him- 
 self despicable to prevent his being feared by the 
 Corinthians ; contrary to his nature, affecting 
 that meanness and stupidity, lest they should 
 imagine the change of his circumstances sat heavy 
 upon him, and that he aimed at establishing him- 
 self again. 
 
 Nevertheless, some sayings of his are recorded, 
 by which it should seem that he did not bear his 
 present misfortunes in an abject manner. When 
 he arrived at Leucas, which was a Corinthian 
 colony as well as Syracuse, he said that he found 
 himself in a situation like that of young men who 
 had been guilty of some misdemeanor. For as 
 they converse cheerfully, notwithstanding, with 
 their brothers, but are abashed at the thought of 
 coming before their fathers, so he was ashamed 
 of going to live in the mother city, and could pass 
 his days much more to his satisfaction with them. 
 Another time, when a certain stranger derided 
 him, at Corinth, in a very rude and scornful 
 manner, for having, in the meridian of his power, 
 taken pleasure in the discourse of philosophers, 
 and at last asked him, what he had got by the 
 wisdom of Plato. “Do you think,” said he, 
 “ that we have reaped no advantage from Plato, 
 when we bear in this manner such a change of 
 fortune?” Aristoxenus the musician, and some 
 others, having inquired what was the ground of 
 his displeasure against Plato, he answered, 
 “That absolute power abounded with evils; but 
 had this great infelicity above all the rest, that 
 among the number of those who call themselves 
 the friends of an arbitrary prince, thereTs not one 
 who will speak his mind to him freely ; and that 
 by such false friends he had been deprived of the 
 friendship of Plato.” 
 
 Some one who had a mind to be arch, and to 
 make merry with Dionysius, shook his robe when 
 he entered his apartment, as is usual when persons 
 approach a tyrant : and he, returning the jest 
 very well, bade him do the same when he went 
 out, that he might not carry off some of the 
 movables. 
 
 One day, over their cups, Philip of Macedon, 
 with a kind of sneer, introduced some discourse 
 about the odes * and tragedies which Dionysius 
 
 over children which he could no longer, practice 
 over men. 
 
 * Dionysius the elder valued himself upon his 
 poetry, but has been censured as the worst poet 
 in the world. Philoxenus, who was himself an 
 excellent poet, attempted to undeceive him in the 
 favourable opinion he had of his own abilities, 
 but was sent to the Quarries for the liberty he 
 took. However, the next day he was restored to 
 favour, and Dionysius repeated to him some 
 verses he had taken extraordinary pains with, 
 expecting his approbation. But the poet, instead 
 of giving it, looked round to the guards, and said 
 to them, very humorously, “Take me back to the 
 Quarries.” Notwithstanding this, Dionysius dis- 
 puted the prize of poetry at the Olympic games ; 
 but there he was hissed, and the rich pavilion he 
 had sent torn in pieces. He had better success, 
 however, at Athens ; for he gained the prize of 
 poetry at the celebrated feast of Bacchus. On 
 this occasion he was in such raptures, that he 
 
TIMOLEOAT. 
 
 179 
 
 the elder left behind him, and pretended to doubt 
 how he could find leisure for such works. Diony- 
 sius answered smartly enough, “ They were 
 written in the time which you and I, and other 
 happy fellows, spend over the bowl.” 
 
 Plato did not see Dionysius in Corinth, for he 
 had now been dead some time. But Diogenes of 
 Sinope, when he first met him, addressed him as 
 follows, “ How little dost thou deserve to live !” 
 Thus Dionysius answered, “ It is kind in you to 
 sympathize with me in my misfortunes.” “ Dost 
 thou think, then,” said Diogenes, “ that I have 
 any pity for thee, and that I am not rather vexed 
 that such a slave as thou art, and so fit to grow 
 old and die, like thy father, on a tyrarit^s uneasy 
 throne, should, instead of that, live with us here 
 in mirth and pleasure?” So that when I compare, 
 with the.se words of the philosopher, the doleful 
 expressions of Philistus, in which he bewails the 
 fate of the daughters of Leptines,* that “from 
 the great and splendid enjoyments of absolute 
 power, they were reduced to a private and hum- 
 bl^e station, they appear to one the lamentations 
 of a woman, who regrets her perfumes, her purple 
 robes, and golden trinkets. This account of the 
 sayings of Dionysius, seems to me neither foreign 
 from biography, nor without its utility to such 
 readers as are not in a hurry, or taken up with 
 other concerns. 
 
 If the ill fortune of Dionysius appeared sur- 
 prising, the success of Timoleon was no less won- 
 derail. For within fifty days after his landing in 
 bicily, he was master of the citadel of Syracuse, 
 mid^ .sent off Dionysius into Peloponnesus. The 
 Corinthians, encou aged with these advantages, 
 sent him a reinforcement of 2000 foot and 200 
 horse. These got on their way as far as Thurium ; 
 but finding it impracticable to gain a passage 
 trom thence, because the sea was beset with a 
 numerous fleet of Carthaginians, they were forced 
 to stop there, and watch their opportunity. How- 
 ever, they employed their time in a very noble 
 tmdertaking. For the Thurians marching out of 
 their city to war against the Brutians, left it in 
 charge with these Corinthian strangers, who de- 
 fended It with as much honour and integrity as if 
 It had been their own. 
 
 ^ iVleantime, Icetes carried on the siege of the 
 citadel with great vigour, and blocked it up so 
 close, that no provisions could be got in for the 
 Corinthian garrison. He provided also two 
 strangers to assassinate Timoleon, and sent them 
 privately to Adranum. That general, who never 
 kept any regular guards about him, lived then 
 with the A dranites without any sort of precaution 
 or suspicion, by reason of his confidence in their 
 mtelary god. The assassins being informed that 
 he was going to offer sacrifice, went into the 
 temple with their poniards under their clothes, 
 and mixing with those that stood round the altar 
 got nearer to him by little and little. They were 
 just going to give each other the signal to begin, 
 when somebody struck one of them on the head 
 hi his feet. Neither 
 
 he that struck the blow kept his station, nor th 
 
 violent debauch threw him into 
 
 I'! he asked for a 
 
 laS^hlm Physmians gave him one that 
 
 * hmi asleep, out of which he never awaked. 
 
 Apolloma”^^^ ^ mentioned below, was tyrant of 
 
 companion of the dead man ; the former, with 
 his sword in his hand, fled to the top of a high 
 rock, and the latter laid hold on the altar, en- 
 treating Timoleon to spare his life, on condition 
 that he di.scovered the whole matter. Accord- 
 ingly, pardon was promi.sed him, and he confe.ssed 
 that he and the person who lay dead, were sent 
 on purpose to kill him. 
 
 Whilst he was making this confession, the 
 other man was brought down from the rock, 
 and loudly protested that he was guilty of no 
 injustice, for he only took righteous vengeance 
 on the wretch who had murdered his father in 
 the city of Leontium.^^ And, for the truth of 
 this, he appealed to several that were there 
 present, who all attested the same, and could 
 not but admire the wonderful management of 
 fortune, which, moving one thing by another, 
 bringing together the most distant incidents, and 
 combining those that have no manner of relation, 
 but rather the greatest dissimilarity, makes such 
 use of them, that the close of one process is 
 always the beginning of another. The Corin- 
 thians rewarded the man with a present of ten 
 because his hand had co-operated with 
 the guardian genius pf Timoleon, and he had 
 reserved the satisfaction for his private wrongs 
 to the time when Fortune availed herself of it 
 save the general. This happy e.scape had 
 effects beyond the present, for it inspired the 
 Corinthians with high expectations of Timoleon, 
 when they saw the Sicilians now reverence and 
 guaid him, as a man whose person was sacred, 
 and who was come as minister of the gods, to 
 avenge and deliver them. 
 
 When Icetes had failed in this attempt, and 
 saw many of the Sicilians going over to Timoleon, 
 he blamed himself for making use of the Cartha- 
 ginians in small numbers only, and availing him- 
 self of their assistance, as it were by stealth, and 
 as if he were ashamed of it, when they had such 
 immense forces at hand. He sent, therefore, for 
 Mago, their commander in chief, and his whole 
 fleet; who, with terrible pomp, took possession 
 of the harbour with 150 ships, and landed an 
 army of 60,000 men, which encamped in the city 
 of Syracuse ; insomuch that every one imagined 
 the inundation of barbarians, which had been 
 announced and expected of old, was now come 
 upon Sicily. For in the many wars which they 
 had waged in that island, the Carthaginians had 
 never before been able to take Syracuse; but 
 Icetes then receiving them, and delivering up 
 the city to them, the whole became a camp of 
 barbarians. 
 
 .The Corinthians, who still held the citadel, 
 found themselves in very dangerous and difficult 
 circumstances; for besides that they were in want 
 of provisions, because the port was guarded and 
 blocked up, they were employed in sharp and 
 continual disputes about the walls, which were 
 attacked with all manner of machines and bat- 
 teries, and for the defence of which they were 
 obliged to divide themselves. Timoleon, how- 
 ever, found means to relieve them, by sending a 
 supply of Cora from Catana in small fishing boats 
 and little skiffs, which watched the opportunity 
 to make their way through the enemy’s fleet, 
 when it happened to be separated by a storm. 
 
 * History can hardly afford a stronger instance 
 of an interfering Providence. 
 
i8o PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 Mago and Icetes no sooner saw this, than they 
 resolved to make themselves masters of Catana, 
 from which provisions were sent to the besieged ; 
 and taking with them the best of their troops, 
 they sailed from Syracuse. Leo, the Corinthian, 
 who commanded m the citadel, having observed, 
 from the top of it, that those of the enemy who 
 stayed behind, abated the vigilance, and kept up 
 an indifferent guard, suddenly fell upon them as 
 they were dispersed ; and killing some, and put- 
 ting the rest to Hight, gained the quarter called 
 Achradhia, which was much the strongest, and 
 had suffered the least from the enemy ; for Syra- 
 cuse is an assembhgi, as it were, of towns.* 
 P'inding plenty of provisions and money there, he 
 did not give up the acquisition, nor return into 
 the citadel, but stood upon his defence in the 
 Ackradina, having fortified it quite round, and 
 joined it by new works to the citadel. Mago and 
 Icetes were now near Catana, when a horseinan, 
 de.spatched from Syracuse, brought them tidings 
 that the Ac/irad/nn was taken ; which struck them 
 with such surprise that they returned in great 
 hurry, having neither taken the place which 
 they went against, nor kept that which they had 
 before. 
 
 Perhaps prudence and valour have as much 
 right as fortune to lay claim to these successes ; 
 but the event that next ensued, is wholly to be 
 ascribed to the favour of fortune. The corps of 
 Corinthians that were at Thurium, dreading the 
 Carthaginian fleet, which, under the command of 
 Hanno, observed their motions, and finding at 
 the same time that the sea for many days was 
 stormy and tempestuous, determined to march 
 through the country of the Brutians : and partly 
 by persuasion, partly by force, they made good 
 their passage through the territories of the bar- 
 barians, and came down to Rhegium, the sea 
 still continuing rough as before. 
 
 The Carthaginian admiral, not expecting the 
 Corinthians would venture out, thought it was 
 in vain to sit still ; and having persuaded himself 
 that he had invented one of the finest stratagems 
 in the world, ordered the mariners to crown them- 
 selves with garlands, and to dress up the galleys 
 with Grecian and Phoenician bucklers, and thus 
 equipped, he sailed to Syracuse. When he came 
 near the citadel, he hailed it with loud huzzas 
 and expressions of triumph, declaring that he 
 was just come from beating the Corinthian suc- 
 cours, whom he had met with at sea, as they 
 were endeavouring at a passage. By this means 
 he hoped to strike terror into the besieged. While 
 he was acting this part, the Corinthians got down 
 to Rhegium, and as the coast was clear, and the 
 wind, falling as it were miraculously, promised 
 smooth water and a safe voyage, they immediately 
 went aboard such barks and fishing boats as they 
 could find, and passed over into Sicily with so 
 much .safety, and in such a dead calm, that they 
 even drew the horses by the reins, swimming by 
 the side o the vessels. 
 
 When they were all landed and had joined 
 
 • There were four : the Isle, or the citadel, 
 which was between the two ports ; Achradina, 
 at a little distance from the citadel ; Tyche, so 
 called from the temple of Fortune; and Neapolis, 
 or the new city. To these some eminent authors 
 (and Plutarch is of the number) add a fifth, which 
 they call Epipoloe, 
 
 Timoleon, he soon took Messana ; * and from 
 thence he marched in good order to Syracuse, 
 depending more upon his good fortune than his 
 forces, for he had not above 4000 men with him. 
 On the first news of his approach, Mago was 
 greatly perplexed and alarmed, and hissu^picions 
 were increased on the following occasions. The 
 marshes about Syracuse,! which receive a great 
 deal of fresh watcj from the springs, and from the 
 lakes and rivers that discharge themselves there 
 into the sea, have such abundance of eels, that there 
 is always plenty for those that choose to fish for 
 them. The common soldiers of both sides 
 amused themselves promiscuously with that sport 
 at their vacant hours, and upon any ce.ssation of 
 arms. As they were all Greeks, and had no 
 pretence for any private animosity against each 
 ot er, they fought boldly when they met in 
 battle, and in time of truce they mixed together 
 and conversed familiarly. Busied at one of 
 these times in their common diversions of fish- 
 ing, they fell into discourse, and expressed their 
 admiration of the convenience of the sea and the 
 situation of the adjacent places. Whereupon, 
 one of the Corinthian soldiers thus addressed 
 those that served under Icetes: “And can you 
 who are Greeks readily consent to reduce this 
 city, so spacious in itself, and blessed with so 
 many advantages, into the power of the bar- 
 barians, and to bring the Carthaginians, the 
 most deceitful and bloody of them all, into our 
 neighbourhood ; when you ought to wish that 
 between them and Greece there were many 
 Sicilies? Or can you think that they have 
 brought an armed force from the Pillars of 
 Hercules and the Atlantic Ocean, and braved the 
 hazards of war, purely to erect a principality for 
 Icetes ; who, if he had had the prudence which 
 becomes a general would never have driven out 
 his founders, to call into his country the worst of 
 his enemies, when he might have obtained of the 
 Corinthians and Timoleon any proper degree of 
 honour and power.” 
 
 The soldiers that were in pay with Icetes, 
 repeating their discourses often in their camp, 
 gave Mago, who had long wanted a pretence to 
 be gone, room to suspect that he was betrayed. 
 And though Icetes entreated him to stay, and 
 remonstrated upon their great superiority to the 
 enemy, yet he weighed anchor and sailed back 
 to Africa, shamefully and unaccountably suflfering 
 Sicily to slip out of his hands. 
 
 Next day, Timoleon drew up his army in order 
 of battle before the place ; but when he and his 
 Corinthians were told that Mago was fled, and 
 saw the harbour empty, they could not forbear 
 laughing at his cowardice ; and by way of 
 mockery they caused proclamation to be made 
 about the city, promising a reward to any one 
 that could give information where the Cartha- 
 ginian fleet was gone to hide itself. Icetes, how- 
 ever, had still the sp.rit to stand a farther shock, 
 and would not let go his hold, but vigorously 
 defended those quarters of the city which he 
 occupied, and which appeared almost impreg- 
 
 * Messana, in the ancient Sicilian pronuncia- 
 tion ; now Messina. 
 
 t There is one morass that is called Lysimelia, 
 and another called Syraco. From this last the 
 city took its name. These morasses make the 
 air of Syracuse very unwholesome. 
 
TIMOLEON. 
 
 i8r 
 
 nable. Timoleon, therefore, divided his forces 
 into three parts ; and himself with one of them 
 made his attack by the river of Anapus, where 
 he was likely to meet with the warmest reception ; 
 commanding the second, which was under Isias 
 the Corinthian, to begin their operations from the 
 Achradina, while Dinarchus and Demaretus, 
 who brought the last re nforcement from Corinth, 
 should attemot the Epipol^: so that several im- 
 pressions being made at the same time and on 
 every side, the soldiers of Tcetes were overpowered 
 and put to flight. Now, that the city was taken 
 by assault, and suddenly reduced, upon the flight 
 of the enemy, we may justly impute to the 
 bravery of the troops and the ability of their 
 general ; but that not one Corinthian was either 
 killed or wounded, the fortune of Timoleon claims 
 entirely to herself, willing as she seems, to main- 
 tain a dispute with his va:our, and that those who 
 read his story, may rather admire his happy 
 success, than the merit of his actions. The fame 
 of this great achievement soon overspread not 
 only Sicily and Italy, but in a few days it re- 
 sounded through Greece : so that the city of 
 Corinth, which was in some doubt whether its 
 fleet was arrived in Sicily, was informed by the 
 same messengers, that its forces had made good 
 their passage and were victorious. So well did 
 their affairs prosper, and so much lustre did 
 fortune add to the gallantry of their exploits, by 
 the speediness of the;r execution. 
 
 Timoleon, thus master of the citadel, did not 
 proceed like Dion, or spare the place lor its 
 beauty and magnificence ; but guarding against 
 the suspicions which first slandered, and then 
 destroyed that great man, he ordered the public 
 crier to give notice “ That all the Syracusans 
 who \vere willing to have a hand in the work, 
 should come with proper instruments to destroy 
 the bulwarks of tyranny.” Hereupon they came 
 one and all, considering that proclamation and 
 that day as the surest commencement of their 
 liberty ; and they not only demolished the citadel, 
 but levelled with the ground both the palaces and 
 the monuments of the tyrants. Having soon 
 cleared the place, he built a common hall there 
 for the seat of judicature, at once to gratify the 
 citizens, and to show that a popular government 
 should be erected on the luins of tyranny. 
 
 The city thus taken was found comparatively 
 destitute of inhabitants. Many had been slain in 
 the wars and intestine broils, and many more had 
 fled from the rage of the tyrants. Nay, so little 
 frequented was the market-place of Syracuse, 
 that it produced grass enough for the horses to 
 pasture upon, and for the grooms to repose them- 
 selves by, them. The other cities, except a very 
 few, were entire deserts, full of deer and wild 
 boars, and such as had leisure for it often hunted 
 them in the suburbs and about the walls ; while 
 none of those that had possessed themselves of 
 castles and strong-holds could be persuaded to 
 quit them, or come down into the city, for they 
 looked with hatred and horror upon the tribunals 
 and other seats of government, as so many nur- 
 series of tyrants. Timoleon and the Syracusans, 
 therefore, thought proper to write to the Corinth- 
 ians, to send them a good number from Greece to 
 people Syracuse, because the land must otherwise 
 he uncultivated, and because they expected a 
 more formidable war from Africa, being informed 
 that Mago had killed himself, and that the 
 
 Carthaginians, provoked at his bad conduct in 
 the expedition, had crucified his body, and were 
 collecting great forces for the invasion of Sicily 
 the ensuing summer. 
 
 These letters of Timoleon being delivered, the 
 Syracu.san ambassadors attended at the same 
 time, and begged of the Corinthians to take their 
 city into their protection, and to become founders 
 of it anew. They did not, however, hastily seize 
 that advantage, or appropriate the city to them- 
 .selves, but first sent to the sacred games and the 
 other great assemblies of Greece, and caused 
 proclamation to be made by their heralds, that 
 the Corinthians having abolished arbitrary power 
 in Syracuse, and expelled the tyrant, invited all 
 Syracusans and other Sicilians to people that city, 
 where they should enjoy their liberties and 
 privileges, and have the lands divided by equal 
 lots among them. Then they sent envoys into 
 Asia and the islands, where they were told the 
 greatest part of the fugitives were di.sper.sed, to 
 exhort them all to come to Corinth, where they 
 should be provided with vessels, commanders, 
 and a convoy at the expense of the Corinthians, 
 to conduct them safe to Syracuse. Their intentions 
 thus published, the Corinthians enjoyed the 
 justest praise, and the most distinguished glory, 
 having delivered a Grecian city from tyrants, 
 saved it Irom the- barbarians, and restored the 
 citizens to their country. But the persons who 
 met on this occasion at Corinth, not being a 
 sufficient number, desired that they might take 
 others along with them from Corinth and the rest 
 of Greece, as new colonists ; by which means 
 having made up their number full ten thousand, 
 they sailed to Syracuse. By this time great 
 multitudes from Italy and Sicily had flocked into 
 Timoleon ; who, finding their number, as Athanis 
 reports, amount to 60,000, freely divided the lands 
 among them, but sold the houses for rooo talents. 
 By this contrivance he both left it in the power of 
 the ancient inhabita.nts to redeem their own, and 
 took occasion also to raise a stock for the com- 
 munity, who had been so poor in all re.spects, and 
 so little able to furnish the supplies for the war, 
 that they had sold the very .statues, after having 
 formed a judicial process against each, and 
 passed sentence upon them, as if they had b .en 
 so many criminals. On this occasion, we are told, 
 they spared one statue, when all the rest were 
 condemned, namely, that of Gelon, one of their 
 ancient kings, in honour of the man, and for the 
 sake of the victory * which he gained over the 
 Carthaginians at Himera. 
 
 Syracuse being thus revived, and replenished 
 with such a number of inhabitants who flocked to 
 it from all quarters, Timoleon was des.rous to 
 bestow thq blessing of liberty on the other cities 
 also, and once for all to extirpate arbitrary govern- 
 ment out of Sicily. For this purpose, marching 
 into the territories of the petty tyrants, he com- 
 pelled Icetes to quit the interests of'Carthage, to 
 agree to demolish his ca.stles, and to live among 
 the Leontines as a private person. Leptines also, 
 prince of Apolloniaand several other little towns, 
 finding himself in danger of being taken, sur- 
 rendered, and had his life granted him, but was 
 sent to Corinth : for Timoleon looked upon it as 
 
 * He defeated Hamilcar, who landed in Sicily, 
 with 300,000 men, in the second year of the 
 seventy-fifth olympiad. 
 
PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 182 
 
 a glorious thing, that the tyrants of Sicily should 
 be forced to live as exiles in the city which had 
 colonized that island and should be seen, by the 
 Greeks, in such an abject condition. 
 
 A. ter this, he returned to Syracuse to settle the 
 civil government, and to establish the most im- 
 portant and neces.sary laws,* along with Cephalus 
 and Dinarchus, lawgivers sent from Corinth. In 
 the meanwhile, willing that the mercenaries 
 should reap some advantage from the enemy’s 
 country, and oe kept from inaction, he sent 
 Dinarchus and Demaretus into the Carthaginan 
 province. These drew several cities from the 
 Punic interest, and not only lived in abundance 
 themselves, but also raised money, from the 
 plunder, for carrying on the war. While these 
 matters were transacting, the Carthaginians 
 arrived at Lilybseum, with 70,000 land forces, 
 200 galleys, and 1000 other vessels, which carried 
 machines of war, chariots, vast quantities o pro- 
 visions, and all other stores ; as if they were now 
 determined not to carry on the war by piecemeal, 
 but to drive the Greeks entirely out of Sicily. 
 For their force was sufficient to effect this, even 
 if the Sicilians had been united, and much more 
 so, harassed as they were with mutual animosities. 
 When the Carthaginians, therefore, found that the 
 Sicilian territories were laid waste, they marched, 
 under the command of Asdrubal and Hamilcar, 
 in great fury, against the Corinthians. 
 
 Iniormation of this being brought directly to 
 Syracuse, the inhabitants were struck with such 
 terror by that prodigious armament, that scarce 
 3000, out of ten times that number, took up arms 
 and ventured to follow Timoleon. The mer- 
 cenaries were in number 4000, and of them abov t 
 1000 gave way to their fears, when upon their 
 march, and turned back, crying out, that Timoleon 
 must be mad or in his dotage, to go against an 
 army of 70,000 men, with only 5000 foot and 1000 
 horse, and to draw his handful of men, too, eight 
 days’ march from Syracuse ; by which means 
 there could be no refuge for those that fled, nor 
 burial for those that tell in battle. 
 
 Timoleon considered it as an advantage, that 
 these cowards discovered themselves before the 
 engagement ; and having encouraged the rest, he 
 led them hastily to the banks of the Crimesus, 
 where he was told the Carthagin ans were drawn 
 together. But as he was ascending a hill, at the 
 top of which the enemy’s camp and all their vast 
 forces would be in sight, he met some mules 
 loaded with parsley; and his men took it into 
 their heads that it was a bad omen, because we 
 usually crown the sepulchres with parsley, and 
 thence the proverb with respect to one that is 
 dangerously ill, “ Such a one has need of nothing 
 but parsley.” To deliver them from this super- 
 stition and to remove the panic, Timoleon ordered 
 
 * Among other wise institutions, he appointed 
 a chief magistrate to be chosen yearly, whom the 
 Syracusans called the Aviphipolus of Jupiter 
 Oiynipiu.<*; thus giving him a kind of sacred 
 character. The first A mphipolus was Commenes. 
 Hence arose the custom among the Syracusans 
 to complete their years by the respective govern- 
 ments of those magistrates ; which custom con- 
 tinued in the time of Diodorus Siculus, that is, 
 in the reign of Augustus, above 300 years after 
 the office of Ampkipolus was first introduced. 
 Diodor. Sicul. 1 . xvi. c. 12. 
 
 the troops to halt, and making a speech suitable 
 to the occasion, observed among other things, 
 that crowns were brought them before the victory, 
 and offered themselves of their own accord. For 
 the Corinthians from all antiquity have looked 
 upon a wreath of parsley as sacred, crowning 
 the victors with it at the Isthmean games : in 
 Timoleon’s time it was still in use at those games, 
 as it is now at the Nemean, and it is but lately 
 that the pine-branch has taken its place. The 
 general having addressed his army as we have 
 said, took a chaplet of parsley, and crowned him- 
 self with it first, and then his officers and the 
 common soldiers did the same. At that instant 
 the soothsayers observing two eagles flying to- 
 wards them, one of which bore a serpent which 
 he had pierced through with his talons, while the 
 other advanced with a loud and animated noise, 
 pointed them out to the army, who all betook 
 themselves to prayer and invocation of the gods. 
 
 The summer was now begun, and the end of 
 the month Thargelio 7 t brought on the solstice : 
 the river then sending up a thick mist, the field 
 was covered with it at first, so that nothing in the 
 enemy’s camp was discernible, only an inarticulate 
 and confused noise which reached the summit of 
 the hill, showed that a great army lay at some 
 distance. But when the Corinthians had reached 
 the top, and laid down their shields to take breath, 
 the sun had raised the vapours higher, so that the 
 fog being collected upon the summits, covered 
 them only, while the places below were ail visible. 
 The river Crimesus appeared clearly, and the 
 enemy were seen cross ng it, fir.st with chariots 
 drawn by four horses, and formidably provided 
 for the combat ; behind which there marched 
 10,000 men with white bucklers. These they 
 conjectured to be Carthaginians, by the bright- 
 ness of their armour, and the slowness and good 
 order in which they moved. They were followed 
 by the troops of other nations, who advanced in a 
 confused and tumultuous manner. 
 
 Timoleon observing that the river put it in his 
 power to engage with what number of the enemy 
 he pleased, bade his men take notice how the 
 main body was divided by the stream, part having 
 already got over and part preparing to pass it ; 
 and ordered Demaretus with the cavalry to attack 
 the Carthaginians and put them in confusion, 
 before they had time to range themselves in order 
 of battle. Then he himself descending into the 
 plain with the infantry, formed the wings out of 
 other Sicilians, intermingling a few strangers with 
 them ; but the natives of Syracuse and the most 
 warlike of the mercenaries he placed about him- 
 self in the centre, and stopped a while to see the 
 success of the horse. When he saw that they 
 could not come up to grapple with the Cartha- 
 ginians, by reason of the chariots that ran to and 
 fro before their army, and that they were obliged 
 often to wheel about to avoid the danger of having 
 their ranks broken, and then to rally again and 
 return to the charge, sometimes here sometimes 
 there, he took his buckler and called to the foot 
 to follow him, and be of good courage, with an 
 accent that seemed more than human, so much 
 was it above his usual pitch; whether it was 
 exalted by his ardour and enthusiasm, or whether 
 (as many were of opinion) the voice of some god 
 was joined to his. His troops answering him with 
 a loud shout, and pressing him to lead them on 
 without delay, he sent orders to the cavalry to 
 
TIMOLEON^. 183 
 
 get beyond the line of chariots, and take the 
 enemy in hank, while himself thickening his first 
 ! ranks, so as to join buckler to buckler, and causing : 
 
 I the trumpet to sound, bore down upon the ■ 
 
 thaginians. They sustained the first shock with ' 
 great spirit ; for being fortified with breast-plates ! 
 of iron and helmets of brass, and covering them- , 
 selves with large shields, they could easily repel 
 the spears and javelins. Hut when the business 
 came to a decision by the sword, w'here art is no , 
 less requisite than strength, all on a sudden there j 
 broke out dreadful thunders from the mountains, 
 mingled wdth long trails of lightning ; after which | 
 the black clouds descending from the tops of the 1 
 hills, fell upon the two armies in a storm of wind, ! 
 rain, and hail. The tempest was on the backs of 
 the Greeks, but beat upon the tac^ of the bar- 
 barians, and almost blinded them with the stormy 
 showers and the lire continually streaming lirom 
 the clouds. 
 
 These things very much distressed the bar- 
 barians, particularly such of them as were not 
 veterans. The greatest inconvenience seems to 
 have been the roaring of the thunder, and the 
 clattering of the rain and hail u|X)n their arms, ; 
 which hindered them from hearing the orders of ' 
 their officers. Besides, the Carthaginians not , 
 being light but hea\'y armed, as I said, the dirt 
 was troublesome to them : and, as the bosoms of 
 their tunics were filled with water, they were very 
 unw'ieldy in the combat, so that the Greeks couid 
 overturn them with ease ; and ivhen they were 
 down, it was impossible for them, encumbered as 
 they were whth arms, to get out of the mire. For 
 the river Crimesus, swollen partly with the rains, 
 and partly having its course stopped by the vast 
 pumbers that crossed it, had oversowed its banks. . 
 The adjacent field, having manj' cavities and low 
 places m it, w'as tilled wnth water which settled 
 there, and the Carthaginians falling into them, 
 could not disengage themselves without extreme 
 difficulty. In short, the storm continuing to beat 
 upon them whth great violence, and the Greeks 
 having cut to pieces 400 men who composed 
 their first ranks, their whole body was put to 
 flighu Great numbers were overtaken in the 
 field, and put to the sw'ord ; many took to the 
 river, and, justling with those that were yet 
 passing it, were carried dowm and drowmed. The 
 major part, w'ho endeavoured to gain the hills, 
 were stopped by the fight-armed soldiers, and 
 slain. Among the 10,000 that were kdled, it is 
 said there were 3000 natives of Carthage ; a heavy 
 loss to that city : for none of its citizens were 
 supierior to these, either in birth, fortune, or 
 character, nor have we any account that so many 
 Carthaginians ever fell before in one battle ; but 
 as they mostly made use 01 Libyians, Spaniards, 
 and Numidians, in their wars, if they lost a vic- 
 ton% it was at the expense of the blood of strangers. 
 
 The Greeks discovered by the spoils the quality 
 of the killed. Those that stripped the dead set 
 ro value upon brass or iron, such was the abun- 
 dance of silver and gold ; for they passed the 
 river, and made themselves masters of the camp 
 and baggage. Many of the prisoners were clan- 
 destinely sold by the soldiers, but 5000 were 
 delivered in upon the public account, and 200 
 chariots also were taken. The tent of Timoleon 
 afforded the most beautiful and magnificent sp^- 
 tacle. In it were piled all manner of sjxiils, 
 among which looo breastplates of exquisite work- 
 
 manship, and io,<xk> bucklers, v/ere exposed to 
 view. As there was but a small number to 
 collect the spoils of such a multitude, and they 
 found such immense riches, it was the third day 
 a ter the battle before they could erect the trophy. 
 With the first news of the victory, Timoleon sent 
 to Corinth the handsome.st of the arms he had 
 taken, desirous that the world might admire and 
 emulate his native city, when they saw the fairest 
 temples adpmed, not with Grecian six)i!s, nor 
 with the unpleasing monuments of kindred blood 
 and domestic ruin, but with the spoils of bar- 
 barians, which bore this honourable inscription, 
 declaring the justice as well as valour of the 
 conquerors — that the people of Corinth, and Ti- 
 moleon their general, having delivered the Greeks 
 who dwelt in Sicily from the Carthaginian yoke, 
 made this offering, as a grateful acknowledgment [ 
 to the gods. 
 
 After this, Timoleon left the mercenaries to lay 
 waste the Carthaginian province, and returned 
 to .'^jTacuse. By an edict published there, he 
 banished from Sicily the thou-sand hired soldiers 
 who deserted him before the battle, and obi ged 
 them to quit S>Tacuse before the sunset. These 
 wTetches passed over into Italy, where they were 
 treacherously slain by the Brutians. Such was 
 the vengeance which heaven took of their per- 
 fidiousness. 
 
 Nevertheless, Mamercus, prince of Catana, and 
 Icetes, either moved wdth envy at the success 
 of Timoleon, or dreading him as an implacable 
 enem5', who thought no faith was to be kept with 
 tv*rants, entered into league wnth the Cartha- 
 ginians, and desired them to send a new army 
 and general, if they were not willing to lose 
 Sicily entirely. Hereupon, Gisco came with a 
 fleet of seventy ships, and a body of Greeks 
 whom he had taken into pay. The Carthaginians 
 had not employed any Greeks before, but now 
 they considered them as the bravest and most 
 invincible of men. 
 
 On this occasion the inhabitants of.Messena, 
 rising with one consent, slew 400 of th:: foreign 
 soldiers, wmom Timoleon had sent to their assist- 
 ance ; and within the dependencies of Carthage, 
 the mercenaries, commanded by Euth^nnus the 
 Lucadian, were cut off by an ambush at a place 
 called Hierm.* Hence the good fortune of Ti- 
 moleon became still more famous : for these were 
 some of the men who with Philodemus of Phocis 
 and Onomarchus, had broken into the temple of 
 Apollo at Delphi, and were partakers with them 
 in the sacrilege, t Shunned as execrable on this 
 
 * We do not find there w'as any place in Sicily 
 called Hierce : in all probability, therefore, it 
 should be read Hietes ; for Stephanus (de Urbib.) 
 mentions a castle in Sicily of that name. 
 
 t The sacred ‘war commenced on this occasion. 
 The Amphiciyons having conde.mned the people 
 of Phocis in a heav*y fine, for plundering the 
 country of Cyrrha. which w'as dedicated to Apollo, 
 and that people being unable to pay it, their 
 whole country was judged, foneited to that god. 
 Hereupon Philomelus, not Philodemus, called 
 the people together, and advised them to seize 
 the treasures in the temple of Delphi, to enable 
 them to hire forces to defend themselves. This 
 brought on a w'ar that lasted six years, in the 
 course of which most of the sacrilegious persons 
 perished miserably. 
 
184 
 
 PLUTARCH^S LIVES. 
 
 account,^ they wandered about Peloponnesus, 
 where Timoleon, being in great want of men, 
 took them into pay. When they came into Sicily, 
 they were victorious in all the battles where he 
 commanded in person : but after the great 
 struggles of the war were over, being sent upon 
 service where succours were required, they 
 perished by little and little. Herein avenging 
 justice seems to have been willing to make use 
 of the prosperity of Timoleon as an apology for 
 its delay, taking care, as it did, that no harm 
 might happen to the good from the punishment 
 of the wicked ; insomuch that the favour of the 
 gods, to that great man, was no less discerned 
 and admired in his very losses than in his 
 greatest success. 
 
 Upon any of these little advantages, the tyrants 
 took occasion to ridicule the Syracusans ; at 
 which they were highly incensed. Mamercus, 
 for instance, who valued himself on his poems 
 and uagedies, talked in a pompous manner of 
 the victory he had gained over the mercenaries, 
 and ordered this insolent inscription to be put 
 upon the shields which he dedicated to the 
 gods— 
 
 These shields * with gold and ivory gay 
 
 To our plain bucklers lost the day. 
 
 Afterwards, when Timoleon was laying siege 
 to Calauria, Icetes took the opportunity to make 
 an inroad into the territories of Syracuse, where 
 he met with considerable booty ; and having 
 made great havoc, he marched back by Calauria 
 itself, in conternpt of Timoleon and the slender 
 force he had with him. Timoleon suffered him 
 to pass, and then followed him v/ith his cavalry 
 and light- armed foot. When Icetes saw he was 
 pursued he crossed the Damyrias,t and stood in 
 a posture to receive the enemy on the other side. 
 What emboldened him to do this, was the diffi- 
 culty of the passage, and the steepness of the 
 banks on both sides. But a strange dispute of 
 jealousy and honour, which arose among the 
 officers of Timoleon, awhile delayed the combat : 
 for there was not one that was willing to go after 
 another, but every man wanted to be foremost in 
 the attack ; so that their fording was likely to be 
 very tumultuous and disorderly by their justling 
 each other, and pressing to get before. To 
 remedy this, Timoleon ordered them to decide 
 the matter by lot, and that each for this purpose 
 should give him his ring. He took the rings and 
 shook them in the skirt of his robe, and the first 
 that came up, happening to have a trophy for 
 the seal, the young officers received it with joy, 
 and crying out, that they would not wait ffir any 
 other lot, made their way as fast as possible 
 through the river, and fell upon the enemy, who, 
 unable to sustain the shock, soon took to flight, 
 throwing away their arms, and leaving 1000 of 
 their men dead upon the spot. 
 
 A few days after this, Timoleon marched into 
 the territory of the Leontines, where he took 
 Icetes alive; and his son Eupolemus, and Euthy- 
 mus, his general of horse, were brought to him 
 bound by the soldiers. Icetes and his son were 
 capitally punished, as tyrants and traitors to their 
 country. Nor did Euthymus find mercy, though 
 
 * They were shields that had been taken out 
 of the temple at Delphi, 
 t Or the Lymyrias. 
 
 remarkably brave and bold in action, because he 
 was accused of a severe sarcasm against the 
 Corinthians. He had said, it seems, in a speech 
 he made to the Leontines, upon the Corinthians 
 taking the field, that it was no formidable matter, 
 if the Corinthian dames were gone out to take the 
 air. Thus the generality of men are more apt to 
 resent a contemptuous word than an unjust action, 
 and can bear any other injury better then dis- 
 grace. Every hostile deed is imputed to the 
 necessity of war, but satirical and censorious 
 expressions are considered as the effects of hatred 
 or malignity. 
 
 When Timoleon was returned, the Syracusans 
 brought the wife and daughters of Icetes to a 
 public trial, who, being there condemned to die, 
 were executed accordingly. This seems to be 
 the most exceptionable part of Timoleon’s con- 
 duct : for, if he had interposed, the women would 
 not have suffered. But he appears to have con- 
 nived at it, and given them up to the resentment 
 of the people, who were willing to make some 
 satisfaction to the -manes of Dion, who expelled 
 Dionysius. For Icetes was the man who threw 
 Arete the wife of Dion, his sister Aristomache, 
 and his son, who was yet a child, alive into the 
 sea ; as v/e have related in the Life of Dion.* 
 
 Timoleon then marched to Catana against Ma- 
 mercus, who waited for him in order of battle 
 upon the banks of the Abolus. t Mamercus was 
 defeated and put to flight, with the loss of above 
 two thousand men, no small part of which con- 
 sisted of the Punic succours sent by Gisco. Here- 
 upon the Carthaginians desired him to grant them 
 peace, which he did on the following conditions : 
 That they should hold only the lands within the 
 Lycus ; I that they should permit all who desired 
 it to remove out of their province, with their 
 families and goods, and to settle at Syracuse ; 
 and that they should renounce all friendship and 
 alliance with the tyrants. Mamercus, reduced 
 by this treaty to despair, set sail for Italy, with 
 an intent to bring the Lucanians against Timoleon 
 and the Syracusans. But, instead of that, the 
 crews tacking about with the galleys, and return- 
 ing to Sicily, delivered up Catana to Timoleon ; 
 which obliged Mamercus to take refuge at 
 Messena, with Hippo, prince of that city. Ti- 
 moleon coming upon them, and investing the 
 place both by sea and land, Hippi^ got on board 
 a ship, and attempted to make his escape, but 
 was taken by the Messenians themselves ; who 
 exposed him in the theatre ; and calling their 
 
 * From_ this passage, and another before, it 
 seems as if the life of Dion was written before 
 this. And yet, in the life of Dion, Plutarch 
 speaks as if this was written first. For there he 
 says, “As we have written in the life of Timoleon.” 
 In one of them, therefore, if not in both, those 
 references must have been made by the Librarians, 
 according to the different order in which these 
 lives were placed. 
 
 t Ptolemy and others call this river, Alahis, 
 Alabis^ or Alabon. It is near Hybla, between 
 Catana and Syracuse. 
 
 I Plutarch probably took the name of this 
 river as he found it in Diodorus ; but other 
 historians call it the Halycus. Indeed, the 
 Carthaginians might possibly give it the oriental 
 aspirate ha^ which signifies no more than the 
 particle the. 
 
i TIMOLEON, 185 
 
 children out of the schools, as to the finest 
 1 spectacle in the world, the punishment of a 
 i tyrant, they first scourged him, and then put 
 j him to death. 
 
 1 Upon this Mamercus surrendered himself to 
 
 Timoieon, agreeing to take his trial at Syracuse, 
 on condition that Timoieon himself would not be 
 his accuser. Being conducted to Syracuse, and 
 ; brought before the people, he attempted to pro- 
 ’ nounce an oration which he had composed long 
 j belore lor such an occasion ; but being received 
 ! With noise and clamour, he perceived that the 
 i assembly were determined to show him no favour. 
 
 ' He, therefore, threw off his upper garment, 
 j ran through the theatre, and dashed his head 
 ’ violently’’ against one of the steps, with a design 
 to kill himself ; but did not succeed according to 
 his wish, lor he was taken up alive, and suffered 
 the punishment of thieves and robbers, 
 j In this manner did Timoieon extirpate tyra.nny^, 
 
 ; and put a period to their wars. He found the 
 ! whole island turned almost wild and savage with 
 ! its mis ortmies, so that its very^ inhabitants could 
 ^ hardly^ endure it, and y^et he so civilized it again, 
 
 ! and rendered it so desirable, that strangers came 
 to settle in the country, from which its own people 
 had lately fled ; the great cities of Agrigentum 
 ; and Gela, which after the Athenian war had been 
 sacked and left desolate by the Carthaginians, 
 were now peopled again ; the former by Megellus 
 and Pheristus from Elea, and the latter by Gorgus 
 from the isle of Ceos, who also collected and 
 brought with him some of the old citizens. Ti- 
 moieon not only assured them of his protection, 
 and of peaceful days to settle in, after the tempests 
 of such a war, but cordially entered into their 
 necessities, and supplied them with every’^thing, 
 so that he was even beloved by them as if he haa 
 bep their founder. Nay, to that degree did he 
 enjoy the affections of the Sicilians in general, 
 that no war seemed concluded, no laws enacted, 
 
 I no lands divided, no political regulations made, 
 in a proper manner, except it was revised and 
 touched by him : he was the master-builder who 
 put tne last hand to the w’ork, and bestowed upon 
 it a happy elegance and perfection. Though ai 
 i that time Greece boasted a number of great men, 
 
 ’ whose achievements were highly distinguished, 
 Timotheus (for instance) Agesilaus, Peiopidos’ 
 and Epaminondas, the last of w’hom Timoieon 
 principally \ded with in the course of glors’^, yet 
 we may discern in their actions a certain labour 
 and straining, which diminishes their lustre, ano 
 some of them have afforded room for censure, 
 and been followed wdth repentance ; w’hereas 
 there is not one action of Timoieon (if we except 
 the extremities he proceeded to in the case 0. hi.- 
 brother) to which we may not, wdth Timseus. 
 apply that passage of Sophocles — 
 
 ; What Venus, or w'hat Love, 
 
 Placed the fair parts in this harmonious wLole. 
 i For, as the poetry of Antimachus* and the 
 
 portraits of Diony-sius,* both of them Colopho- 
 nians, with all the nerve and strength one finds in 
 them, appear to be too much laboured, and smell 
 too much of the lamp ; whereas the paintings of 
 Nicomachust and the verses of Homer, besides 
 their other excellences and graces, seem to have 
 1 been struck off with readiness and ease : so if 
 we compare the exploits of Epaminondas and 
 Agesilaus, performed wdth infinite pains and diffi- 
 culty, with those of Timoieon, which, glorious as 
 they w’ere, had a great deal of freedom and ease 
 in them, when we consider the case w'ell, we shall 
 conclude the latter, not to have been the work of 
 fortune indeed, but the effects of fortunate virtue. 
 
 He himself, it is true, ascribed all his successes 
 to fortune. For when he WTote to his friends at 
 Connth, or addressed the Syracusans, he often 
 said, he was highly indebted to that goddess, 
 w’hen she w'as resolved to save Sicily, for doing it 
 under his name. In his house he built a chapel, 
 and offered sacrifices to Ckance,% and dedicated 
 the house itsel: to Fortu?ie; for the Syracusans 
 had given him one of the best houses in the city, 
 as a reward for his serv’ices, and provided him, 
 besides, a very’^ elegant and agreeable retreat in 
 the country. In the country it was that he spent 
 most of his time, wdth his wdfe and children, 
 whom he had sent for from Corinth : for he never 
 returned home ; he took no part in the troubles 
 of Greece, nor exposed himself to public envy% 
 the rock w’^hich great generals commonly split 
 upon in their insatiable pursuits of honour and 
 pow-er ; but he remained in Sicily% enjoying the 
 blessings he had established ; and of w'hich the 
 greatest of all was, to see so many* cities and so - 
 many’’ thousands of people happyr through his 
 means. 
 
 But since, according to the comparison of 
 Simonides, every republic must have some im- 
 pudent slanderer, just as every’ lark must have 
 a crest on its head, so it wms at Syracuse ; for 
 Timoieon w'as attacked by two demagogues, 
 Laphystius and Demsenetus. The first of these 
 having demanded of him sureties that he would 
 answ’er to an indictment which was to be brought 
 against him, the people began to rise, declaring 
 they would not suffer him to proceed. But 
 Timoieon stilled the tumult, by representing, 
 that he had voluntarily undergone so many 
 
 though he was second, he was far from coming 
 near the first. 
 
 Dionysius was a portrait painter. Plin. 
 
 XXXV. 10. 
 
 t Pliny tells us, “ Nicomachus painted with a 
 swift as well as masterly hand ; and that his 
 jieces sold for as much as a town was worth.” 
 Aristratus, the ty'rant of Sicy’on, having agreed i 
 .vith him for a piece of work which seemed to ! 
 require a considerable time, Nicomachus did not 
 appear till within a few day’s of that on which he I 
 lad agreed to finish it. Hereupon the tyrant j 
 -alked of punishing him ; but in those few days 
 le completed the thing in an admmable manner, 
 and entirely to his satisfaction. 
 
 1 When the ancients ascribed any’ event to 
 ^ortu7ie, they did not mean to deny the operations 
 jf the Deity in it, but only to exclude ail human 
 contrivance and power. And in events ascribed 
 :o chaytccy they might possibly mean to exclude 
 the agency of all rational beings, whether human 
 or divine. 
 
 1 ^ Antimachus was an epic poet, w’ho flourished 
 in the days of Socrates and Plato. He WTOte a 
 ^em called the Tiiebaid. Quintilian (x. i.)say’^s. 
 
 1 he had a force and solidity, together with ar 
 elevation of style, and had the second place given 
 hirn by the gramm^ans, after Homer; but as 
 P^sions, in the disposition of his 
 fable, and in the ease and elegance of manner. 
 
i86 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 labours and dangers, on purpose that the meanest 
 Syracusan might have recourse, when he pleased, 
 to the laws. And when Demaenetus, in full 
 assembly, alleged many articles against his be- 
 haviour in command, he did not vouchsafe him 
 any answer ; he only said he could not suffi- 
 ciently express his gratitude to the gods, for 
 granting his request, in permitting him to see all 
 the Syracusans enjoy the liberty of saying what 
 they thought fit. 
 
 Having then confessedly performed greater 
 things than any Grecian of his time, and been 
 the only man that realized those glorious achieve- 
 ments, to which the orators of Greece were 
 constantly exhorting their countrymen in the 
 general assemblies of the states, fortune happily 
 placed him at a distance from the calamities in 
 which the mother-country was involved, and 
 kept his hands unstained with its blood. He 
 made his courage and conduct appear in his 
 dealings with the barbarians and with tyrants, as 
 well as his justice and moderation wherever the 
 Greeks or their friends were concerned. Very 
 few of his trophies cost his fellow-citizens a tear, 
 or put any of them in mourning ; and yet, in less 
 than eight years, he delivered Sicily from its 
 intestine miseries and distempers, and restored it 
 to the native inhabitants. 
 
 After so much prosperity, when he was well 
 advanced in years, his eyes began to fail him, 
 and the defect increased so fast, that he entirely 
 lost his sight. Not that he had done anything to 
 occasion it, nor was it to be imputed to the 
 caprice of fortune,* but it seems to have been 
 owing to a family weakness and disorder, which 
 operated together with the course of time. For 
 several of his relations are said to have lost their 
 sight in the same manner, having it gradually 
 impaired by years. But Athanis tells us, not- 
 withstanding, that during the war with Hippo 
 and Mamercus, and while he lay before Millae, a 
 white speck appeared on his eye, which was a 
 plain indication that blindness was coming on. 
 However, this did not hinder him from continuing 
 the siege, and prosecuting the war, until he got 
 the tyrants in his power. But, when he was re- 
 turned to S3macuse, he laid down the command 
 immediately, and excused himself to the people 
 from any farther service, as he had brought their 
 affairs to a happy conclusion. 
 
 It is not to be wondered, that he bore his mis- 
 fortune without repining ; but it was really 
 admirable to observe the honour and respect 
 which the Syracusans paid him when blind. 
 They not only visited him constantly themselves, 
 but brought all strangers who spent some time 
 amongst them to his house in the town, or to that 
 in the country, that they, too, might have the 
 pleasure of seeing the deliverer of Syracuse. 
 And it was their joy and their pride that he chose 
 to spend his days with them, and despi.sed the 
 splendid reception which Greece was prepared to 
 
 give him, on account of his great success. Among 
 the many votes that were passed, and things that 
 were done in honour of him, one of the most 
 striking was that decree of the people of Syracuse, 
 that whenever they should be at war with a 
 foreign nation, they would employ a Corinthian 
 general. Their method of proceeding, too, in 
 their assemblies, did honour to Timoleon. For 
 they decided smaller matters by themselves, but 
 consulted him in the more difficult and important 
 cases. On these occasions he was conveyed in a 
 litter through the market-place to the theatre ; 
 and when he was carried in, the people saluted 
 him with one voice, as he sat. He returned 
 the civility ; and having paused a while to give 
 time for their acclamations, took cognizance of 
 the affair, and delivered his opinion. The as- 
 semblj' .gave their sanction to it, and then his 
 servants carried the litter back through the 
 theatre; and the people having waited on him 
 with loud applauses, despatched the rest of the 
 public business without him. 
 
 With so much respect and kindness was the old 
 age of Timoleon cherished, as that of a common 
 father ! and at last he died of a slight illness co- 
 operating with length of years.* Some time 
 being given the Syracusans to prepare for his 
 funeral, and for the neighbouring inhabitants and 
 strangers to assemble, the whole was conducted 
 with great magnificence. The bier, sumptuously 
 adorned, was carried by young men selected by 
 the people, over the ground where the palace and 
 castle of the tyrants stood, before they were 
 demolished. It was followed by many thousands 
 oi men and women, in the most pompous solemnity, 
 crowned with garlands and clothed in white. 
 The lamentations and tears, mingled with the 
 praises of the deceased, showed that the honour 
 now paid him was not a matter of course, or com- 
 pliance with a duty enjoined, but the testimony 
 of real sorrow and sincere affection. At last the 
 bier being placed upon the funeral pile, De- 
 metrius, who had the loudest voice of all their 
 heralds, was directed to make proclamation as 
 follows : “ The people'of Syracuse inter Timoleon 
 the Corinthian, the son of Timodemus, at the ex- 
 pense of 200 mince : they honour him, moreover, 
 through all time with annual games, to be cele- 
 brated with performances in music, horse-racing, 
 and wrestling ; as the man who destroyed tyrants, 
 subdued barbarians, repeopled great cities which 
 lay desolate, and restored to the Sicilians their 
 laws and privileges.” 
 
 The body was interred, and a monument erected 
 for him in the market-place, which they after- 
 wards surrounded with porticoes and other build- 
 ings suitable to the purpose, and then made it a 
 place of exercise for their youth, under the name 
 of Timoleonthim. They continued to make use 
 of the form of government and the laws that he 
 established, and this insured their happiness for a 
 long course of j^ears.t 
 
 Plutarch here hints at an opinion which was 
 very prevalent among the Pagans, that if any 
 person was signally favoured with success, there 
 would some misfortune happen to counterbalance 
 it. This they imputed to the envy of some malig- 
 nant demon. 
 
 * He died the last year of the hundred and 
 tenth olympiad, 335 years before the Christian 
 era. 
 
 t This prosperity was interrupted about thirty 
 j years after, by the cruelties of Agathocles. 
 
00 
 
 PAULUS , 
 
 When I first applied myself to the writing of 
 these Lives, it was for the sake of others, but I 
 pursue that study for my own sake ; availing 
 myself of history as of a mirror, from which I 
 learn to adjust and regulate my own conduct. 
 For it is like living and conversing with these 
 illustrious men, when I invite as it were, and 
 receive them, one after another, under my roof; 
 when I consider how great and wonderful they 
 were, and select from their actions the most 
 memorable and glorious. 
 
 Ye gods ! what greater pleasure? 
 
 What HAPPIER ROAD TO VIRTUE? 
 
 Democritus has a position in his philosophy,* 
 utterly false indeed, and leading to endless super- 
 stitions, that there are phantasms or images 
 continually floating in the air, some propitious, 
 and some unlucky, and advises us to pray, that 
 such may strike upon our senses, as are agreeable 
 to and perfective of our nature, and not such as 
 have a tendency to vice and error. For my part, 
 instead of this. I fill my mind with the sublime 
 images of the best and greatest men, by attention 
 to history and biography ; and if I contract any 
 blemish or ill custom from other company which 
 I am unavoidably engaged in, I correct and expel 
 them, by calmly and dispassionately turning my 
 thoughts to these excellent examples. For the 
 same purpose, 1 now put in your hands the Life 
 of Timoleon the Corinthian, and that of iEmilius 
 Paulus, men famous not only for their virtues, ‘ 
 but their success ; insomuch that they have leit 
 room to doubt, w'hether their great achievements 
 were not more owing to their good fortune than 
 their prudence. 
 
 Most writers agree, that the ^Emilian family 
 was one of the most ancient among the Roman 
 nobility : and it is asserted, that the founder of 
 it, who also left it his surname, w'as Mamercus t i 
 the son of Pythagoras the philosopher,!; who, for j 
 the peculiar charms and gracefulness of his elo- 
 cution was called iFmilius ; such, at least, is the i 
 op.nion of those who say that Numa w'as educated i 
 under Pythagoras. j 
 
 Those of the family that distinguished them- 
 selves, § found their attachment to virtue generally 
 
 * Democritus held, that visible objects pro- 
 duced their image in the ambient air, which 
 irnage produced a second, and the second a third 
 still less than the former, and so on till the last 
 produced its counterpart in the eye. This he 
 supposed the process of the act of vision. But he 
 went on to what is infinitely more absurd. He 
 maintained that thought was formed, according 
 as those images struck upon the imagination ; 
 that of these there were some good and some 
 evil ; that the good produced virtuous thoughts 
 in us, and the evil the contrary. 
 
 t See the life oi Numa. 
 
 J He is called Pythagoras the philosopher, to 
 distinguish him from Pythagoras the famed 
 wrestler. 
 
 § From Lucius yEmilius, who was consul in the 
 year of Rome 270, and overcame the Volscians, to 
 Lucius Paulus, who was father to Paulus .^Emilius, 
 
 ^MILIUS. 
 
 1 blessed with success. And notwithstanding the 
 ! ill iortune of Lucius Paulus at Cannae, he showed 
 1 on that occasion both his prudence and his valour, 
 j For, when he could not dissuade his colleague 
 ! from fighting, he joined him in the combat, 
 1 though much against his will, but did not partake 
 1 with him in his flight : on the contrary, when he 
 ' who plunged them in the danger, deserted the 
 field, Paulus stood his ground, and fell bravely 
 amidst the enemy, with his sword in his hand. 
 
 This Paulus had a daughter named ^Emilia, 
 who was married to Scipio the Great, and a son 
 called Paulus, whose history I am now writing. 
 
 At the time he made his appearance in the 
 world, Rome abounded in men wEo were cele- 
 brated for their virtues and other excellent ac- 
 complishments ;* and even among these ^Erailius 
 1 made a distinguished figure, without pursuing 
 ' the same studies, or setting out in the same track, 
 
 I with the young nobility of that age. For he did 
 1 not exercise himself in pleading causes, nor could 
 he stoop to salute, to solicit, and caress the 
 people, which w'as the method that most men 
 took who aimed at popularity. Not but that he 
 had talents from nature to acquit himself well in 
 either of these respects, but he reckoned the 
 honour that flows from valour, from justice and 
 probity, preferable to both ; and in these virtues 
 he ^on surpassed all the young men of his time. 
 
 The first of the great offices of state for which 
 he \yas a candidate, was that of /Edile, and he 
 carried it against twelve competitors, who, we 
 are told, were all afterwards consuls. And when 
 he was appiomted one of the Augurs, whom the 
 Romans employ in the inspection and care of 
 divination by tne flight of birds, and by prodigies 
 in the air, he studied so attentively the usages of 
 his country, and acquainted himself so perfectly 
 1 with the ancient ceremonies of religion, that what 
 before was only considered as an honour, and 
 1 sought for on account of the authority annexed to 
 it,f appeared in his hands to be one of the 
 principal arts. Thus he confirmed the definit on 
 which is given by some philosophers, that religion 
 is the science of worshipping the gods. He did 
 everything with skill and application ; he laid 
 aside all other concerns while he attended to this, 
 and made not the least omission or innovation, 
 but disputed with his colleagues about the small- 
 est article, and insisted, that though the deity 
 might be supposed to be merciful, and willing to 
 overlook some neglect, yet it w*as dangerous for 
 the state to connive at and pass by such things. 
 For no man ever began his attempts against 
 government with an enormous crime ; and the 
 
 and who fell at Cannae, in the year of Rome 537, 
 there were many of those ^Er^ii renowned for 
 their victories and triumphs. 
 
 * In that period we find the Sempronii, the 
 Albini, the Fabii Maximi, the Marcelli, the 
 Scipios, the Fulvii, Sulpitii, Cethegi, Metelli ; 
 and other great and excellent men. 
 
 t T 'nder pretence that the auspices were favour- 
 able or otherwise, the Augiirs had it in their 
 power to promote or put a stop to any public 
 aSair whatever. 
 
1 88 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 relaxing in the smallest matters, breaks down the 
 fences of the greatest. 
 
 Nor was he less exact in requiring and observ- 
 ing the Roman military discipline. He did not 
 study to be popular in command, nor endeavour, 
 like the generality, to make one commission the 
 foundation for another, by humouring and in- 
 dulging the soldiery : * but as a priest instructs 
 the initiated with care in the sacred ceremonies, 
 so he explained to those that were under him the 
 rules and customs of war ; and being inexorable, 
 at the same time, to those that transgressed them, 
 he re-established the country in its former glory. 
 Indeed, with him, the beating of an enemy was 
 a matter of much less account, than the bringing 
 of his countrymen to strict discipline ; the one 
 seeming to be the necessary consequence of the 
 other. 
 
 During the war which the Romans were en- 
 gaged in with Antiochus the Great, f in the east, 
 andj in which their most experienced officers 
 were employed, another broke out in the west. 
 There was a general revolt in Spain ; § and thither 
 iEinilius was sent, not with six lictors only, like 
 other prceiorsy but with twice the number ; which 
 seemed to raise his dignity to an equality with 
 the consular. He beat the barbarians in two 
 pitched battles, |1 and killed 30,000 of them : which 
 success appears to have been owing to his 
 generalship in choosing his ground, and attack- 
 ing the enemy while they were passing a river ; 
 for by these means his army gained an easy 
 victory. He made himself master of 250 cities, 
 which voluntarily opened their gates ; and having 
 established peace throughout the province, and 
 secured its allegiance, he returned to Rome, not 
 a drachma richer than he went out. He never, 
 indeed, was desirous to enrich himself, but lived 
 in a generous manner on his own estate, which 
 was so far from being large, that after his death, 
 it was hardly sufficient to answer his wife’s dowry. 
 
 His first wife was Papiria, the daughter of 
 Papirius Maso, a man of consular dignity. After 
 he had lived with her a long time in wedlock he 
 divorced her, though she had brought him very 
 fine children ; for she was mother to the illustrious 
 Scipio and to Fabius Maximus. History does 
 not acquaint us with the reason of this separa- 
 tion ; but with respect to divorces in general, the 
 account which a certain Roman, who put away 
 his wife, gave of his own case, seems to be a just 
 one. When his friends remonstrated, and asked 
 him, “Was she not chaste? Was she not fair? 
 Was she not fruitful?” he held out his shoe, and 
 said, “Is it not handsome? Is it not new? yet 
 none knows where it wrings him, but he that 
 v/ears it.” Certain it is, that men usually repu- 
 
 diate their wives for great and visible faults : yet 
 sometimes also a peevishness of temper or incom- 
 pliance of manners, small and frequent distastes, 
 though not discerned by the world, produce the 
 most incurable aversions in a married life.* 
 
 iEmilius, thus separated from Papiria, married 
 a second wife, by whom he had also two sons. 
 These he^ brought up in his own house ; the sons 
 of Papiria being adopted into the greatest and 
 most noble families in Rome, the elder by Fabius 
 Maximus, who was five times consul, and the 
 younger by his cousin-german, the son of Scipio 
 Africanus, who gave him the name of Scipio. 
 One of his daughters was married to the son of 
 Cato,^ and the other to iElius Tubero, a man of 
 superior integrity, and who, of all the Romans, 
 knew best how to bear poverty. There were no 
 less than sixteen of the yElian family and name, 
 who had only a small house, and one farm 
 amongst them ; and in this house they all lived, 
 w th their wives and many children. Here dwelt 
 the daughter of iEmilius, who had been twice 
 consul and had triumphed twice, not ashamed of 
 her husband’s poverty, but admiring that virtue 
 which kept him poor. Very different is the be- 
 haviour of brothers and other near relations in 
 these days ; who, if their possessions be not sepa- 
 rated by extensive countries, or at least rivers 
 and bulwarks, are perpetually at variance about 
 them. So much instruction does history suggest 
 to the consideration of those who are willing to 
 profit by it. 
 
 When iEmilius was created consul,! he went 
 
 * The very ingenious Dr. Robertson mentions 
 this frequency of divorces as one of the necessary 
 reasons for introducing the Christian religion at 
 that period of time when it was published to the 
 world. “Divorces,” says he, “on very slight 
 pretences were permitted both by the Greek and 
 Roman legislators. And though the pure manners 
 of those republics restrained for some time the 
 operation of such a pernicious institution ; though 
 the virtue of private persons seldom abused the 
 indulgence that the legislator allowed them, yet 
 no sooner had the establishment of arbitrary 
 power and the progress of luxury vitiated the 
 taste of men, than the law with regard to divorces 
 was found to be amongst the worst corruptions 
 that prevailed in that abandoned age. The 
 facility of separations rendered married persons 
 careless of practising or obtaining those virtues 
 which render domestic life easy and delightful. 
 The education of their children, as the parents 
 were not mutually endeared or inseparably con- 
 nected, was generally disregarded, as each parent 
 considered it but a partial care, which might with 
 equal justice devolve on the other. Marriage, 
 instead of restraining, added to the violence of 
 irregular desire, and under a legal title became 
 the vilest and most shameless prostitution. From 
 all the.se causes the marriage state fell into di.sre- 
 putation and contempt, and it became necessary 
 to force men by penal laws into a society where 
 they expected no secure or lasting happiness. 
 Among the Romans domestic corruption grew of 
 a sudden to an incredible height. And perhaps 
 in the history of mankind we can find no parallel 
 to the undisguised impurity and licentiousness of 
 that age. It was in good time therefore,” etc. etc, 
 t It was the year following that he went against 
 the Ligurians. 
 
 * The Roman soldiers were, at the same time, 
 citizens, who had votes for the great employ- 
 ments, both civil and military. 
 
 *J* The war with Antiochus the Great, king of 
 Syria, began about the year of Rome, 561, 
 twenty-four years after the battle of Cannae. 
 
 J The consul Glabrio, and after him the two 
 Scipios ; the elder of whom was content to serve 
 as lieutenant under his brother. Liv. 1 .xxxvii. 
 
 § Spain had been reduced by Scipio Nasica. ^ 
 li Livy xxxvii. 57, speaks only of one battle, in 
 which Paulus i®milius forced the entrenchments 
 of the Spaniards, killed 18,000 cf them, and made 
 300 prisoners. 
 
PA UL US ^MILIUS, 1 89 
 
 upon an expedition against the Ligurians, whose 
 Country lies at the foot of the* * * § *Alps, and who are 
 also called Ligustmes : a bold and martial people 
 that learned the art of war of the Romans, by 
 means of their vicinity. For they dwelt in the 
 extremities of Italy, bordering upon that part of 
 the Alps which is washed by the Tuscan sea, just 
 opposite to Africa, and were mixed with the Gauls 
 and Spaniards who inhabited the coast. At that 
 time they had likewise some strength at sea, 
 and their corsairs plundered and destroyed the 
 merchant ships as far as the P’llars of Hercules. 
 They had an army of 40,000 men to receive 
 iEmilius, who came but with 8000 at the inost. 
 He engaged them, however, though five times 
 his number, routed them entirely, and shut them 
 up within their walled towns. When they were 
 in these circumstances, he offered them reasonable 
 and moderate terms. For the Romans did not 
 choose utterly to cut off the people of Liguria, 
 whom they considered as a bulwark against the 
 Gauls, who were always hovering over Italy. 
 The Ligurians, confiding in j®milius, delivered 
 up their ships and their towns. He only pzed 
 the fortifications, and then delivered the cities to 
 them again ; but he carried off their shipping, 
 leaving them not a vessel bigger than those with 
 three banks of oars ; and he set at liberty a 
 number of prisoners whom they had made both 
 at sea and land, as well Romans as strangers. 
 
 Such were the memorable actions of his first 
 consulship. After which he often expressed his 
 desire of being appointed again to the same high 
 office, and even stood candidate for it; but, 
 meeting with a repulse, he solicited it no more. 
 Instead of that he applied himself to the discharge 
 of his function as azcgur, and to the education of 
 his sons, not only in such arts as had been taught 
 in Rome, and those that he had learned himself, 
 but also in the genteeler arts of Greece. To this 
 purpose he not only entertained masters who could 
 teach them grammar, logic, and rhetoric, but 
 sculpture also and painting, together with such 
 as were skilled in breaking and teaching horses 
 and dogs, and were to instruct them in riding and 
 hunting. When no public affairs hindered him, 
 he himself always attended their studies and 
 exercises. In short, he was the most indulgent 
 parent in Rome, 
 
 As to the public affairs, the Romans were then 
 engaged in a war with Perseus,* king of the 
 Macedon ans, and they imputed it either to the 
 incapacity or cowardice of their generals f that 
 the advantage was on the enemy’s side. For 
 they who had forced Antiochus the Great to quit 
 the rest of Asia,], driven him beyond Mount 
 Taurus, confined him to Syria, and made him 
 think himself happy if he could purchase his 
 pea.e with 15,000 talents ; § they who had lately 
 vanquished king Philip in Thessally, and de- 
 
 * This second Macedonian war with Perseus 
 began in the year of home 582, a hundred and 
 sixty-nine years before the Christian era. 
 
 t Those generals were P. Licinius Crassus, 
 after him A. Hostilius Mancinus, and then 
 Q. Martins Philippus, who dragged the war 
 heavily on during the three years of their 
 consulship. 
 
 X Seventeen years before. 
 
 § Livy says 12,000, which were to be paid in 
 twelve years, by 1000 talents a year. 
 
 livered the Greeks from the Macedonian yoke ; * 
 in short, they who had subdued Hannibal, 
 to whom no king could be compared either for 
 valour or power, thought it an intolerable thing 
 to be obliged to contend with Perseus upon 
 equal terms, as if /te could be an adversary 
 able to cope with them, who only brought 
 into the field the poor remains of his father’s 
 routed forces. In th s, however, the Romans 
 were deceived ; for they knew not that Philip, 
 after his defeat, had ^ raised a much more 
 numerous and better disciplined army than he 
 had before. It m.ay not be amiss to explain this 
 in a few words, beginning at the fountain head 
 Antigonus,! the most powerful among the generals 
 and successors of Alexander, having gained^ for 
 himself and his descendants the title of king, 
 had a son named Demetrius, who was father to 
 Antigonus, surnamed Gonaius. Gonatus had a 
 son named Demetrius, who, after a short reign, 
 left a young son called Philip. The Macedonian 
 nobility, dreading the confusion often consequent 
 upon a minority, set up Antigonus, cousin to the 
 deceased king, and gave him his widow, the 
 mother of Philip, to wife. At first they made 
 him only regent and general, but afterwards, 
 finding that he was a moderate and public-spirited 
 man, they declared him king. He it was that 
 had the name of Doson,l because he was always 
 promising, but never performed what he promised. 
 After him, Philip mounted the throne, and though 
 yet but a youth, soon showed himself equal to the 
 greatest of kings, so that it was believed he would 
 restore the crown of Macedon to its ancient 
 dignity, and be the only man that could stop the 
 progress of the Roman power, which was now 
 extending itself over all the world. But being 
 beaten at Scotusa by Titus Flaminius, his courage 
 sunk for the present, and promising to receive 
 such terms as the Romans should impose, he was 
 glad to come off with a moderate fine. But 
 recollecting himself afterwards, he could not 
 brook the dishonour. To reign by the courtesy 
 of the Romans, appeared to him more suitable to 
 a slave, who minds nothing but his pleasures, 
 than to a man who has any dignity of sentiment, 
 and therefore he turned his thoughts to war, but 
 made his preparations with great privacy and 
 caution. For suffering the towns that were near 
 the great roads and by the sea, to run to decay, 
 and to become half desolate, in order that he 
 might be held in contempt by the enemy, he 
 collected a great force in the higher provinces ; 
 and filling the inland places, the towns, and 
 castles, with arms, money, and ■ men, fit for 
 service, without making any show of war, he had 
 his troops always in readiness for it, like so many 
 wrestlers trained and exercised in secret. For 
 
 * This service was performed by Quinctius 
 Flaminius, who de eated Philip in Thessaly, killed 
 8000 of his men upon the spot, took 5000 prisoners, 
 and after his victory caused proclamation to be 
 made by a herald, at the Isthmean games, that 
 Greece was free, 
 
 t This Antigonus killed Eumenes, and took 
 Babylon from Seleucus ; and when his son Deme- 
 trius had overthrown Ptolemy’s fleet at Cyprus, 
 he, the first of all Alexander’s successors, pre- 
 sumed to wear a diadem, and assumed the title 
 of king. 
 
 X Doson signifies will give. 
 
he had in his arsenal arms for 30,000 men, in 
 his garrisons 8,000,000 measures of wheat, and 
 money in his coffers to defray the charge of 
 maintaining 10,000 mercenaries for ten years, to 
 delend his country. But he had not the satis- 
 faction of putting these designs in execution ; for 
 he died of grief and a broken heart, on discover- 
 ing that he had unjustly put Demetrius, his more 
 worthy son, to death,* in consequence of an 
 accusation preferred by his other son, Perseus. 
 
 Perseus, who survived him, inherited together 
 ■with the crown, his father’s enmity to the 
 Romans ; but he was not equal to such a burden, 
 on account of the littleness of his capacity and 
 the meanness of his manners ; avarice being the 
 principal of the many passions that reigned in his 
 distempered heart. It is even said, that he was 
 not the son of Philip, but that the wife of that 
 prince took him, as soon as he was born, from his 
 mother, who was a sempstress of Argos, named 
 Gnathsenia, and passed him upon her husband as 
 her own. And the chief reason of his compassing 
 the death of his brother seemed to have been his 
 fear that the royal house, having a lawful heir, 
 might prove him to be suppositious. But though 
 he was of such an abject and ungenerous disposi- 
 tion, yet, elated with the prosperous situation of 
 his affairs, he engaged in war with the Romans, 
 and maintained the conflict a long while, repulsing 
 several of their fleets and armies, commanded by 
 men of consular dignity, and even beating some 
 of them. Publius Licinius was the first that 
 invaded Macedonia, and him he defeated in an 
 engagement of the cavalry,! killed 2500 of his 
 best men, and took 600 prisoners. He surprised 
 the Roman fleet which lay at anchor at Ormeum, 
 took twenty of their store-ships, sunk the rest that 
 were loaded with wheat, and made himself master, 
 besides, of four galleys which had each five 
 benches of oars. He fought also another battle, 
 by which he drove back the consul Hostiliu.s, who 
 was attempting to enter his kingdom by Elimia ; 
 and when the same general was stealing in by 
 the way of Thessaly, he presented himself before 
 him, but the Roman did not choose to stand the 
 encounter. And as if this war did not sufficiently 
 employ him, or the Romans alone were not an 
 enemy respectable enough, he went upon an 
 expedition against the Dardanians, in which he 
 cut in pieces 10,000 of them, and brought off 
 much booty. At the same time he privately 
 solicited the Gauls, who dwell near the Danube, 
 and who are calle(| Bastarnse. These were a 
 warlike people, and strong in cavalry. He tried 
 the Illyrians too, hoping to bring them to join 
 him by means of Gentius their king ; and it 
 was reported that the barbarians had taken his 
 money, under promise of making a.n inroad into 
 Italy, by the Lov/er Gaul, along the coast of the 
 Adriatic. X 
 
 * This story is finely embellished in Dr. Young’s 
 tragedy off The Brothers. 
 
 t Livy has given us a description of this action 
 at the end of his forty-second book. Perseus 
 offered peace to those he had beaten upon as easy 
 conditions as if he himself had been overthrown, 
 but the Romans refused it : they made it a rule, 
 indeed, never to make peace when beaten. The 
 rule proved a wise one for that people, but can 
 never be universally adopted. 
 
 X He practised also with Eumenes king of 
 
 When this news was brought to Rome, the 
 people thought proper to lay aside all regard to 
 interest and solicitation in the choice of their 
 generals, and to call to the command a man of 
 understanding, fit for the direction of great affairs. 
 Such was Paulus iEmilius, a man advanced in 
 years indeed ( or he was about threescore) but 
 still in his full strength, and surrounded with 
 young sons, and sons-in-law, and a number of 
 other considerable relations and friends, who all 
 persuaded him to listen to the people, that called 
 him to the consulship. At first he received the 
 offer of the citizens very coldly, though they went 
 so far as to court and even to entreat him ; for he 
 was now no longer ambitious of that honour ; but 
 as they daily attended at his gate and loudly 
 called upon him to make his appearance in the 
 forum^ he was at length prevailed upon. When 
 he put himself among the candidates, he looked 
 not like a man who sued for the consulship, but 
 as one who brought success along with him : and 
 when, at the request of the citizens, he went 
 down into the Campus Martizis, they all received 
 him with so entire a confidence and such a cordial 
 regard, that upon their creating him consul the 
 second time, they would not suffer the lots to be 
 cast for the provinces,* as usual, but voted him 
 immediately the direction of the war in Macedonia. 
 It is said, that after the people had appointed 
 him commander in chief against Perseus, and 
 conducted him home in a very splendid manner, 
 he found his daughter Tertia, who was yet but a 
 child, in tears. Upon this he took her in his 
 arms, and asked her why she wept. The girl 
 embracing and kissing him, said, “Know you 
 not then, father, that Perseus is dead?’' meaning 
 a little dog of that name, which she had brought 
 up. To which iEmilius replied, “’Tis a lucky 
 incident, child ; I accept the omen.” This par- 
 ticular is related by Cicero, in his Treatise on 
 Divination. 
 
 It was the custom for those that were appointed 
 to the con.sulship, to make their acknowledgments 
 to the people in an agreeable speech from the 
 rostrum. iEmilius having assembled the citizens 
 on this occasion, told them, he had applied for 
 his former consulship, because he wanted a com- 
 mand ; but in this, they had applied to him, 
 because they wanted a comma.nder ; and there- 
 fore, at present, he did not holu himself obliged 
 to them. If they could have the war better 
 directed by another, he would readily quit the 
 employment ; but if they placed their confidence 
 in him, he expected they would not interfere with 
 his orders, or propagate idle reports, but provide 
 in silence what was necessary for the war ; for, 
 if they wanted to command their commanders, 
 their expeditions would be more ridiculous than 
 ever. It is not easy to express how much 
 reverence this speech procured him from the 
 citizens, and what high expectations it produced 
 of the event. They rejoiced that they had passed 
 
 Bithynia, and caused representations to be made 
 to Antiochus king of Syria, that the Romans 
 were equally enemies to all kings : but Eumenes 
 demanding 1500 talents, a stop was put to the 
 negotiation. The very treating, however, with 
 Perseus, occasioned an inveterate hatred between 
 the Romans and their old friend Eumenes ; but 
 that hatred was of no service to Perseus. 
 
 * Livy says the contrary. 
 
PAULUS I LIUS, 
 
 191 
 
 by the smooth-tongued candidates, and made 
 choice of a general who had so much freedom of 
 speech and such dignity of manner. Thus the 
 Romans submitted, like servants, to reason and 
 virtue, in order that they might one day rule, 
 and become masters of the world. 
 
 'J'hat Paulus i^milius, when he went upon the 
 Macedonian expedition, had a prosperous voyage 
 and journey, and arrived with speed and safety 
 in the camp, 1 impute to his good fortune ; but 
 when I consider how the war was conducted, and 
 see that the greatness of his courage, the ex- 
 cellence of his counsels, the attachment of his 
 friends, his presence of mind, and happiness in 
 expedients in times of danger, all contributed 
 to his success, I cannot place his great and dis- 
 tinguished actions to any account but his own. 
 Indeed, the avarice of Perseus may possibly be 
 looked upon as a fortunate circumstance for 
 iEmilius ; since it blasted and ruined the great 
 preparations and elevated hopes of the Mace- 
 donians, by a mean regard to money. For the 
 Bastarnae came, at his request, with a body of 
 10,000 horse,* each of which had afoot-soldier by 
 his side, and they all fought for hire ; men they 
 were that knew not how to till the ground, to 
 feed cattle, or to navigate ships, but whose sole 
 profession and emp'oyment was to fight and to 
 conquer. When these pitched _ their tents in 
 Medica, and mingled with the king’s forces, who 
 beheld them tall in their persons, ready beyond 
 expression at their exercises, lofty and full of 
 menaces against the enemy, the Macedonians 
 were inspired with fresh courage, and a strong 
 opinion, that the Romans would not be able to 
 stand against these mercenaries, but be terrified 
 both at their looks and at their strange and 
 astonishing motions. 
 
 After Perseus had filled his people with such 
 spirits and hopes, the barbarians demanded of 
 him 1000 pieces of gold for every officer ; but the 
 thoughts of parting with such a sum almost 
 turned his brain, and in the narrowness of his 
 heart, he refused it, and broke off the alliance ; 
 as if he had not been at war with the Romans, 
 but a steward for them, who was to give an exact 
 account of his whole expenses to those whom he 
 was acting against. At the same timet the 
 
 * Livy (xliv. 26) has well described this horse- 
 man and his foot-soldier. He says, “There came 
 10,000 horse, and as many foot, who kept pace 
 with the horse, and when any of the cavalry were 
 unhorsed, they mounted, and went into the ranks.” 
 They were the same people with those described 
 by Caesar in the first book of his Commentaries, 
 where he is giving an account of Ariovistus’s 
 army. As soon as Perseus had intelligence of the 
 approach of the Bastarnae, he sent Anrigonus to 
 congratulate Clondicus their king. Clondicus 
 made answer, that the Gauls could not march a 
 step farther without money ; which Perseus in his 
 avarice and ill policy refused to advance. 
 
 t We agree with the editor of the former 
 English translation, that the original here is ex- 
 tremely corrupted and very difficult to be restored ; 
 and that it seems improbable that the Romans 
 should have an army of 100,000 men in Macedonia. 
 But the improbability lessens, if we consider that 
 Paulus iEmilius applied on this occasion to the 
 all es, especially the Achaeans, for what forces 
 they could spare, and if we take in those that 
 
 example of the enemy pointed out to him better 
 things ; for, besides their other preparations, they 
 had 100,000 men collected and ready for their 
 use : and yet he having to oppose so considerable 
 a force, and an armament that was maintained at 
 such an extraordinary expense, counted his gold 
 and sealed his bags, as much afraid to touch them 
 as if they had belonged to another. And yet he was 
 not descended from any Lydian or Phoenician mer- 
 chant, but allied to Alexander and Philip, whose 
 maxim it was to procure empire with money, and 
 not money by empire, and who, by pursuing that 
 maxim, conquered the world. For it was a com- 
 mon saying, that it was not Philip, but Philip’s 
 gold, that took the cities of Greece. As for 
 Alexander, when he went upon the Indian ex- 
 pedition, and saw the Macedonians dragging after 
 them a heavy and unwieldy load of Persian wealth, 
 he first set fire to the royal carriages, and then 
 persuaded the rest to do the same to theirs, that 
 they might move forward to the war, light and 
 unencumbered. Whereas Perseus, though he and 
 his children, and his kingdom, overflowed with 
 wealth, would not purchase his preservation at 
 the expense of a small part of it, but was carried 
 a wealthy captive to Rome, and showed that 
 people what immense sums he had saved and laid 
 up for them. 
 
 Nay, he not only deceived and sent av/ay the 
 Gauls, but also imposed upon Gentius king of the 
 Illyrians, whom he prevailed with to join him, in 
 consideration of a subsidy of 300 talents. He 
 went so far as to order the money to be counted 
 before that prince’s envoys, and suffered them to 
 put their seal upon it. Gentius, thinking his 
 demands were answered, in violation of all tne 
 laws of honour and justice, seized and imprisoned 
 the Roman ambassadors who were at his court. 
 Perseus now concluded that there was no need of 
 money to draw his ally into the war, since he had 
 unavoidably plunged himself into it, by an open 
 instance of violence, and an act of hostility which 
 v/ould admit of no excuse, and therefore he de- 
 frauded the unhappy man of the 300 talents, and 
 without the least concern beheld him, his v/ife, 
 and children, in a short time after, dragged from 
 their kingdom, by the praetor Lucius Anicus, 
 who was sent at the head of an army against 
 Gentius. 
 
 iEmilius, having to do with such an adversary 
 as Perseus, despised, indeed, the man, yet could 
 not but admire his preparations and his strength. 
 For he had 4000 horse, and near 40,000 foot who 
 composed the phalaytx : and being encamped by 
 the sea-side, at the foot of Mount Olympus, in a 
 place that was perfectly inaccessible, and strength- 
 ened on every side with fortifications of wood, he 
 lay free from all apprehensions, persuaded that 
 he should wear out the consul by protracting the 
 time and exhausting his treasures. But ..Emilius, 
 
 acted on board the Roman fleet. ^Emilius, in- 
 deed, just before the battle, expresses his appre- 
 hensions from the enemy’s superior, ty of numbers ; 
 and it is true that he had none to depend upon 
 but the Romans, who were comparatively few. 
 As for his Grecian allies, he could not place much 
 confidence in them, because it was their interest 
 that the kingdom of Macedon should stand ; and, 
 in fact, when that fell, severe tribunals were set 
 up in Greece, and the shadow of liberty, which 
 remained to it, was lost. 
 
IQ2 
 
 PZU-TAjRCJI’S lives. 
 
 always vigilant and attentive, weighed every ex- 
 pedient and method of attack ; and perceiving 
 that the soldiers, through the want of discipline 
 in time past, were impatient of delay, and ready 
 to dictate to their general things impossible to be 
 executed, he reproved them with great severity, 
 ordering them not to intermeddle, or give atten- 
 tion to anything but their own persons and their 
 arms, that they might be in readiness to use their 
 swords as became Romans, when their commander 
 should give them an opportunity. He ordered 
 also the sentinels to keep watch without their 
 pikes,* that they might guard the better against 
 sleep, when they were sensible that they had 
 nothing to defend themselves with against the 
 enemy, vyho might attack them in the night. 
 
 But his men complained the most of want of 
 water ; for only a little, and that but indifferent, 
 flowed, or rather came drop by drop, from some 
 spr.ngs near the sea. In this extremity, .dEmilius, 
 seeing Mount Olympus before him, very high and 
 covered with trees, conjectured, from their ver- 
 dure, that there must be springs in it which 
 would discharge themselves at the bottom, and 
 therefore caused several pits and wells to be dug 
 at the foot 6f it. These were soon filled with 
 clear water, which ran into them with the greater 
 force and rapidity, because it had been confined 
 before. 
 
 Some, however, deny that there are any hidden 
 sources constantly provided with water in the 
 places from which it flows ; nor will they allow 
 the discharge to be owing to the opening of a 
 vein ; but they will have it, that the water is 
 formed instantaneously, from the condensation of 
 vapours, and that by the coldness and pressure of 
 the earth a moist vapour is rendered fluid. For, 
 as the breasts of women are not, like vessels, 
 stored with milk always ready to flow, but prepare 
 and change the nutriment that is in them into 
 milk ; so the cold and springy places of the 
 ground have not a quantity of water hid withm 
 them, which, as irom reservoirs always full, can 
 be sufficient to supply large streams and rivers ; 
 but by compressing and condensing the vapours 
 and the air, they convert them into water. And 
 such places being opened, afford that element 
 freely, just as the breasts of women do milk from 
 their being suckled, by compressing and liquefy ng 
 the vapour ; whereas the earth that remains idle 
 and undug cannot produce any water, because it 
 wants that motion which alone is the true cause 
 of it. 
 
 But those that teach this doctrine, give occasion 
 to the sceptical to observe, that by a parity of 
 reason there is no blood in animals, but that the 
 wound produces it, by a change in the flesh and 
 spirits, which that impression renders fluid. 
 Besides, that doctrine is refuted by those who, 
 digging deep in the earth to undermine some 
 fortification, or to search for metals, meet with 
 deep rivers, not collected by little and little, which 
 would be the case, if they were produced at the 
 instant the earth was opened, but rushing upon 
 
 * Livy says, without their shields ; the reason 
 of which was this, the Roman shields being long, 
 they might rest their heads upon them, and sleep 
 standing. iEmilius, however, made one order in 
 favour of the soldiers upon guard ; for he ordered 
 them to be relieved at noon, whereas before they 
 used to be upon duty all day. 
 
 them at once in great abundance. And it often 
 happens upon the breaking of a great rock, that a 
 quantity of water issues out, which as suddenly 
 ceases. So much for springs. 
 
 .dEmilius sat still for some days, and it is . said 
 that there never were two great armies so near 
 each other, that remained so quiet. But trying 
 and considering everything, he got information 
 that there was one way only left unguarded, 
 which lay through Perrhsebia, by Pythium and 
 Petra ; and conceiving greater hope from the 
 defenceless condition of the place, than fear from 
 Its rugged and difficult appearance, he ordered 
 the matter to be considered in council. 
 
 Scipio, surnamed Nasica, son-in-law to Scipio 
 Africanus, who afterwards was a leading man in 
 the senate, was the first that offered to head the 
 troops in taking this circuit to comeat the enemy. 
 And after him, Fabius Maximus, the eldest son 
 of iErnilius, though he was yet but a youth, ex- 
 pressed his readiness to undertake the enterprise. 
 yEmilius, delighted with this circumstance, gave 
 them a detachment, not so large indeed as 
 Polybius gives account of, but the number that 
 Nasica mentions in a short letter wherein he 
 describes this action to a certain king. They had 
 3000 Italians, who were not Romans, and 5000 
 men besides, who composed the left wing. To 
 these Nasica added J2o horse, and 200 Thracians 
 and Cretans intermixed, who w^ere of the troops 
 of Harpalus. 
 
 With this detachment he began to march to- 
 wards the sea, and encamped at Heracleum,* as 
 if he intended to sail round, and come upon the 
 enemy’s camp behind ; but when his soldiers had 
 supped, and night came on, he explained to the 
 officers his real design, and directed them to take 
 a different route. Pursuing this, without loss of 
 time, he arrived at Pythium, where he ordered 
 his men to take some rest. At this place Olympus 
 is ten furlongs and ninety-six feet in height, as it 
 is signified in the inscription made by Xenagoras 
 the son of Eumelus, the man that measured it. 
 The geometricians, indeed, affirm, that there is 
 no mountain in the world more than ten furlongs 
 high, nor sea above that depth, yet it appears 
 that Xenagoras did not take the height in a 
 careless ■ manner, but regularly and with proper 
 instruments. 
 
 Nasica passed the night there. Perseus, for 
 his part, seeing iEmilius lie quiet in his camp, 
 had not the least thought of the danger that 
 threatened him; but a Cretan deserter who 
 slipped from Scipio by the way, came and in- 
 formed him of the circuit the Romans were taking 
 in order to surprise him. This news put him in 
 great confusion, yet he did not remove his camp ; 
 he only sent 10,000 foreign m rcenaries and 2000 
 Macedonians under Milo, with orders to possess 
 themselves oi the heights with all possible expedi- 
 tion. Polybius relates that the Romans fell upon 
 them while they were asleep, but Nasica tells us 
 there was a sharp and dangerous conflict for the 
 heights ; that he himself killed a Thracian mer- 
 cenary who engaged him, by piercing him through 
 the breast with his spear ; and that the enemy 
 
 * The consul gave out that they were to go on 
 board the fleet, which, under the command of 
 Octavius the praetor, lay upon the coast, in order 
 to waste the maritime parts of Macedonia, and so 
 to draw Perseus from ms camp. 
 
PA ULUS ^MILIUS. 
 
 193 
 
 bein^ routed, a.nd Milo put to a, sha.meful flight 
 without his arms, and in his under garment only, 
 he pursued them without any sort of hazard, and 
 led his party down into the plain. Perseus, terri- 
 fied at this disaster, and disappointed in his hopes, 
 decamped and retired. Yet he was under a ne- 
 cessity of stopping before Pydna, and risking a 
 battle, if he did not choose to divide his army to 
 garrison his towns,* and there expect the enemy, 
 who, when once entered into his country, could 
 not be driven out without great slaughter and 
 bloodshed. 
 
 His friends represented to him, that his army 
 was still superior in numbers, and that they 
 would fight with great resolution in defence of 
 their wives and children, and in sight of their 
 king, who was a partner in their danger. En- 
 couraged by this representation, he fixed his 
 camp there ; he prepared for battle, viewed the 
 country, and assigned each officer his post, as 
 intending to meet the Romans when they came 
 off their march. The field where he encamped, 
 was fit for the pha-lccnx^ which^ required plain 
 and even ground to act in ; near it was a chain of 
 little hills, proper for the light-armed to retreat 
 to, and to wheel about from the attack : and 
 through the middle ran the rivers .dEson and 
 Leucus, which though not very deep, because it 
 was the latter end of summer, were likely to give 
 the Romans some trouble. ^ . 
 
 iEmilius having joined Nasica, marched in 
 good order against the enemy. But when he saw 
 the disposition and number of their forces, he was 
 astonished, and stood still to consider what was 
 proper to be done. Hereupon the young officers, 
 eager for the engagement, and particularly 
 Nasica, flushed with his success at Mount Olym- 
 pus, pressed up to him, and begged of him to 
 lead them forward without delay, ^ii^milius only 
 smiled and said, “My friend, if I was of your 
 age, I should certainly do so : but the many 
 victories I have gained have made me_ observe 
 the errors of the vanquished, and forbid me to 
 give battle immediately after a march, to^an army 
 well drawn up, and every way prepared.” 
 
 Then he ordered the foremost ranks, who were 
 in sight of the enemy, to present a front, as if 
 they were ready to engage, and the rear, in the 
 mean time, to mark out a camp, and throw up 
 entrenchments ; alter which, he made the bat- 
 talions wheel off by degrees, beginning with those 
 next the soldiers at work, so that their disposition 
 was insensibly changed, and his whole army en- 
 camped without noise. 
 
 When they had supped, and were thinking of 
 nothing but going to rest, on a sudden the moon, 
 which was then at full, and very high, began to 
 be darkened, and after changing^ into various 
 colours, was at last totally eclipsed, t The 
 
 * His best friends advised him to garrison his 
 strongest cities with his best troops, and to 
 lengthen out the war, experience having shown 
 that the Macedonians were better able to defend 
 cities than the Romans were to take them ; but 
 this opinion the king rejected from this cowardly 
 principle, that perhaps the town he chose for his 
 residence might be first besieged. 
 
 t Livy tells us, that Sulpitius Gallus, one of 
 the Roman tribunes, foretold this eclipse ; first to 
 the consul and then with his leave to the army, 
 whereby that terror which eclipses were wont to 
 
 Romans, according to their custom, made a great 
 noise by striking upon vessels of brass, and held 
 up lighted faggots and torches in the air, in order 
 to recall her light ; but the Macedonians did no 
 such thing ; horror and astonishment seized their 
 v/hole camp, and a whisper passed among the 
 multitude, that this appearance portended the fall 
 of the king. As for iEmilius, he was not entirely 
 unacquainted with this matter ; he had heard oi 
 the ecliptic inequalities which bring the moon, at 
 certain periods, under the shadow of the earth, 
 and darken her, till she has passed that quarter 
 of obscurity, and receives light from the sun again. 
 Nevertheless, as he was wont to ascribe most 
 events to the Deity, was a religious observer of 
 sacrifices and of the art of divination, he offered 
 up to the moon eleven heifers, as soon as he saw 
 her regain her former lustre. At break of day, 
 he also sacrificed oxen to Hercules, to the number 
 of twenty, without any auspicious sign ; but in 
 the twenty-first the desired tokens appeared, and 
 he announced victory to his troops, provided they 
 stood upon the defensive.! At the same time he 
 vowed a hecatomb and solemn games in honour 
 of that god, and then commanded the officers to 
 put the army in order of battle; staying, how- 
 ever, till the sun should decline, and get round to 
 the west, lest, if they came to action in the morn- 
 ing, it should dazzle the eyes ot his soldiers ; he 
 sat down in the mean time in his tent, which was 
 open towards the field and the enemy’s camp. _ 
 
 Some say, that towards evening, he availed 
 himself of an artifice, to make the enemy begin 
 the fight. It seems he turned a horse loose with- 
 out a bridle, and sent out some Romans to catch 
 him, who were attacked while they were pursuing 
 him, and so the engagement began. Others say, 
 that the Thracians, commanded by one Alex- 
 ander, attacked a Roman convoy ; that 700 Li- 
 gurians making up to its assistance, a sharp 
 skirmish ensued ; and that larger reinforcements 
 being sent to both parties, at last the main bodies 
 were engaged. iEmilius, like a wise pilot, fore- 
 seeing, by the agitation of both armies, the 
 violence of the impending storm, came out of his 
 tent, passed through the ranks, and encouraged 
 his men. In the mean time, Nasica,_who had 
 ridden up to the place where the skirmish began, 
 saw the whole of the enemy’s army advancing to 
 the charge. 
 
 First of all marched the Thracians, whose very 
 aspect struck the beholders with terror. They 
 were men of a prodigious size ; their shields were 
 
 breed in ignorant minds, was entirely taken off, 
 and the soldiers more and more disposed to con- 
 fide in officers of so great wisdom, and of such 
 general knowledge. 
 
 t Here we see iEmilius availed himself of 
 augury, to bring his troops the more readily to 
 comply with what he knew was most prudent. 
 He was sensible of their eagerness and_ impetu- 
 osity, but he was sensible at the same time that 
 coolness and calm valour were more necessary to 
 be exerted against the Macedonian phalanx, 
 which was not inferior in courage and discipline 
 to the Romans, and therefore he told them, that 
 the gods enjoined them to stand upon the defen- 
 sivef if they desired to be victorious. Another 
 reason why iEmilius deferred the fight, was, as 
 Plutarch tells us, because the morning sun was 
 full in the eyes of his soldiers. 
 
 O 
 
194 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 white and glistering; their vests were black, 
 their legs armed with greaves; and as they 
 moved, their long pikes, heavy-shod with iron, 
 shook on their right shoulders. Next came the 
 mercenaries, v^iously armed, according to the 
 manner of ^eir respective countries : with these 
 were mixed the Paeonians. In the third place 
 m,oved fonvard the battalions of Macedon, the 
 flower of its youth and the bravest of its sons : 
 their new purple vests and gilded arms made a 
 splendid appearance. As these took their post, 
 the Chalchespidps mov®d out of the camp ; the 
 fields gleamed with the polished steel and the 
 brazen shields which they bore, and the moun- 
 tains re-echoed to their cheers. In this order 
 they advanced, and that with so much boldness 
 and speed, that the first of their slain* fell only 
 two furlongs from the Roman camp. 
 
 As soon as the attack was begun, iEmilius 
 advancing to the first ranks, found that the fore- 
 most of the Macedonians had struck the heads of 
 their pikes into the shields of the Romans, so 
 that it was impossible for his men to reach their 
 adversaries with their swords. And when he saw 
 the rest of the Macedonians take their bucklers 
 from their shoulders, join them close together, 
 and with one motion present their pikes against 
 his legions, the strength of such a rampart, and 
 the formidable appearance of such a front struck 
 him with terror and amazement. He never, in- 
 deed, saw a more dreadful spectacle, and he 
 often mentioned afterwards the impression it made 
 upon him. However, he took care to show a 
 pleasant and cheerful countenance to his men, 
 and even rode about without either helmet or 
 breastplate. But the king of Macedon, as Po- 
 I lybius tells us, as soon as the engagement was 
 begun, gave way to his fears, and withdrew into 
 the town, under pretence of sacrificing to Her- 
 cules ; a god that accepts not the timid offerings 
 of cowards, nor favours any unjust vows. * And 
 surely it is not just, that the man who never 
 shoots should bear away the prize ; that he who 
 deserts his post, should conquer ; that he who is 
 despicably indolent, should be successful ; or that 
 a bad man should be happy. But the god at- 
 tended to the prayers of iEmilius ; for he begged 
 for victory and success with his sword in his 
 hand, and fought while he implored the divine 
 aid. Yet one Posidonius, t who says he lived in 
 those times, and was present at that action, in 
 the history of Perseus, which he wrote in several 
 books, affirms, that it was not out of cowardice, 
 nor under pretence of offering sacrifice that he 
 uitted the field, but because the day before the 
 ght, he received a hurt on his leg, from the kick 
 of a horse ; that when the battle came on, though 
 very much indisposed, and dissuaded by his 
 friends, he commanded one of his horses to be 
 brought, mounted him, and charged, without a 
 breastplate, at the head of the phalanx ; and 
 that, amidst the shower of massive weapons of all 
 
 * The light-armed. 
 
 t This could not be Posidonius of Apamea, 
 who wrote a continuation of Polybius’s history ; 
 for that Posidonius went to Rome during the 
 consulship of Marcellus, ii8 years after this battle. 
 Plutarch, indeed, seems to have taken him either 
 for a counterfeit, or a writer of no account, when 
 he calls him “one Posidonius, who tells us he 
 lived at that time'' 
 
 kinds, he was struck with a javelin of iron, not 
 indeed with the point, but it glanced in such a 
 manner upon his left side, that it not only rent 
 his clothes, but gave him a bruise in the flesh, the 
 mark of which remained a long time. This is 
 what Posidonius says in defence of Perseus. 
 
 The Romans, who engaged the phalanx^ being 
 unable to break it, Salius, a Pelignian officer, 
 snatched the ensign of his company and threw it 
 among the enemy. Hereupon, the Pelignians, 
 rushing forward to recover it, for the Italians look 
 upon it as a great crime and disgrace to abandon 
 their standard, a dreadful conflict and slaughter 
 on both sides ensued. The Romans attempted 
 to cut the pikes of the Macedonians asunder with 
 their swords, to beat them back with their shields, 
 or to put them by with their hands : but the 
 Macedonians holding them steady with both 
 hands, pierced their adversaries through their 
 armour, for neither shield nor corslet was proof 
 against the pike.* The Pelignians, and Marru- 
 cinians were thrown headlong dov/n, who without 
 any sort of discretion, or rather with a brutal fury, 
 had exposed themselves to wounds, and run upon 
 certain death. The first line thus cut in pieces, 
 those that were behind were forced to give back, 
 and though they did not fly, yet they retreated 
 towards Mount Olocrus. riEmilius seeing this, 
 rent his clothes, as Posidonius tells us. He was 
 reduced almost to despair, to find that part of his 
 men had retired, and that the rest declined the 
 combat with a phalajix which, by reason of the 
 pikes that defended it on all sides, like a rampart, 
 appeared impenetrable and invincible. But as 
 the unevenness of the ground and the large extent 
 of the front would not permit their bucklers to be 
 joined through the whole, he observed several 
 interstices and openings in the Macedonian line ; 
 as it happens in great armies, according to the 
 different efforts of the combatants, who in one 
 part press forward, and in another are forced to 
 give back. For this reason, he divided his troops, 
 with all possible expedition, into platoons, which 
 he ordered to throw themselves into the void 
 spaces of the enemy’s front ; and so, not to engage 
 with the whole at once, but to make many im- 
 pressions at the same time in different parts. 
 These orders being given by .^milius to the 
 officers, and b 3 ’- the officers to the soldiers, they 
 immediately made their way between the pikes, 
 wherever there was an opening ; f which was no 
 sooner done, than some took the enemy in flank, 
 where they were quite exposed, while others 
 fetched a compass, and attacked them in the rear ; 
 thus was the phala7ix soon broken, and its 
 strength, w'hicli depended upon one united effort, ^ 
 was no more. When they came to fight man 
 with man, and party with party, the Macedo- 
 nians had only short swords to strike the long 
 
 * This shows the advantage which the pike 
 has over the broadsword : and the bayonet is still 
 better, because it gives the soldier the free use of 
 his musket, without being encumbered with a 
 pike, and when screwed to the musket, supplies 
 the place of a pike. 
 
 t On the first appearance of this, Perseus should 
 have charged the Romans very briskly with his 
 horse, and by that means have given his infantry 
 time to recover themselves; but instead of this, 
 they basely provided for their own safety by a 
 precipitate flight. 
 
, of the Romans, that reached from head 
 tv foot, and slight bucklers to oppose to the 
 Roman swords, which, \ry reason of their weight 
 and the force with which they were managed, 
 pierced through all their armour to the bodies; 
 so that th^ maintained their ground with diffi- 
 culty, and m the end were entirely routed- 
 
 It was here, however, that the greatest eHorts 
 were made on both sides; and here Marcus, the 
 '/jn of Cato, and son-in-law to i'Emilius, after 
 surprising acts of valour, unfortunately lost his 
 s //orcL As he was a youth who had received all 
 the advantages of education, and who owed to 
 so illustnous a lather extraordinary instances of 
 virtue, he was persuaded that he had better die, 
 than leave such a spoil in the hands of his enemies. 
 He, therefore, flew through the ranks, and where- 
 evcr he happened to see any of his friends or 
 acquaintance, he told them hLs misfortune, and 
 begged their assistance. A number of brave young 
 men was thus collected, who following their leader 
 with ^ual ardour, soon traversed their own army, 
 and fell upion the Macedonians. After a shaip 
 conflict and dreadful carnage, the enemy was 
 driven back, and the ground being left vacant, 
 the Romans sought for the sword, which with 
 much difliioulty was found under a heajp of arms 
 and dead bodies. Transported with this success, 
 they charged those that remained unbroken, with 
 .still greater ea.gernes 3 and shouts of triumph. 
 The 30C0 Macedonians, w'ho were all select men, 
 kept their station, and maintained the light, but 
 at last were entirely cut off. The rest fled ; and 
 terrible was the slaughter of those. The field 
 and the sides of the ^Is were covered with the 
 dead, and the river Leucus, which the Romans 
 crcis^ the day after the battle, was even then 
 mixed with blood. For it is said that about 
 tw'enty-five thousand were killed on the 3Iace- 
 donian side; whereas the Romans, according to 
 PosidoniiLs, lost but one hundred; Xasica saj's, 
 only fourscore.* 
 
 This great battle was soon decided, for it began 
 at the ninth bour,t and victory declared herself * 
 before the tenth. The remainder of the day was 
 employed in the pursuit, which was continued for 
 the space of 120 furlongs, so that it was far in the 
 night when they returned. The servants went 
 with torches to meet their masters, and conducted 
 them with shouts of joy to their tents, which they 
 had illuminated, and adorned with crowns of ivy 
 and laurel t 
 
 But the general himsell was overwhelmed v/ith 
 ^ef. For, of the two sons that ser^'ed tmder 
 him, the youngest, whom he most loved, and 
 who, of all the brothers, w'as most happily formed 
 
 • Utterly impo.^sible ! if the circumstances of^ 
 the fight are considered ; but Ln'y’s account is 
 lest. 
 
 t i.e. three in the afternoon. 
 
 X The laurel was sacred to Apollo, and the ivy 
 to Bacchus. Bacchus, who is sometimes supposed 
 to be the same with Hercul^ was a warrior, and ' 
 we read of his expedition into India. But the . 
 Roman custom of adorning the tents of the v'ictors 
 w;th ivy, the plant of Bacchus, might arise from j 
 a more simple cause ; Csesar, in his third book of I 
 the ^vil wars, says, that in Pompiey's camp he ! 
 found the tent of Lentulus and some others ■ 
 covered with ivy : so sure had they made them- 1 
 selves of the victory. ' 1 
 
 for virtue, vras not to be fc:: nd. He was naturaiiy 
 brave and ambitious of honour, and withal very 
 young,* he concluded that hie inexperience had 
 engaged him too far in the hottest of the battle, 
 and that he was cer^iaiy kille<L The whole 
 ^ army was sensible of his sorrowand distress; and 
 ' leaving their they ran out with torches, 
 
 some to the general s tent, and some out of the 
 trendies to seek him among the first of the slain. 
 
 I A profound melancholy reigned in the camp, while 
 the field resounded with the cries of those that 
 called upon Scipio. For, so admirably ha(i 
 Nature tempere<d him, that he was very early 
 j marked out by the world, as a person beyond the 
 i rest of the youth, likely to excel in the arts both 
 I of war and of civil government. 
 
 It was now very late, and he was almost given 
 up, when he returned from the pursuit, with two 
 or three friends, covered with the fresh blood of 
 the foe, like a generous young hound, carried too 
 far by the charms of the chase. This is that 
 I Scipio, who afterwards destroyed Carthage and 
 Numantia, and was incomparably the first, both 
 j in virtue and power, of the Romans of his time. 
 Thus Fortune did not choose at present to make 
 ./Umilius pay for the favour she did him, but 
 deferred it to another opportunity ; and therefore 
 I he enjoyed thl ; victiory, with full .satisfaction, 
 j As for Perseus, he fled from Pydna to Pella, 
 j with his cavalry, which had suffered no loss. 
 
 I When the foot overtook them, they reproached 
 j them as cowards and traitors, pulled them off 
 their horses, and wounded several of them; $0 
 that the king dreading the consequences of the 
 tumult, turned his horse out of the common road, 
 and, lest he should be known, wrapped up his 
 purple robe, and prut it before him ; he also took 
 off his diadem, a^ carried it in his band, and 
 that he might converse the more conveniently 
 wdth his friends, alighted from his horse and led 
 him. But they all slunk away from him by 
 degrees ; one under pretence of tying his shoe, 
 
 , another of watering ms horse, and a third of being 
 I thir^ himself: not that they were so much 
 afraid of the enemj', as of the cruelty of Perseus, 
 who, exasperated "srith his misfortunes, sought to 
 lay the bl^e of his miscarriage on anybody but 
 himself. He entered Pella in the night, where he 
 killed with his poniard Euctes and Eud^as, tw'o 
 of his treasurers ; who, w-hen they w'aited upon 
 him, had found fault with some of hiis proceedings, 
 and pnoyoked him by an unseasonable liberty cf 
 admonition. Hereupon, everybody forsook h:r^-, 
 except Evander the Cretai^ Archedamus the 
 vEtolian, and Neon the Boeotian : nor did an^' of 
 his soldiers foUow him, but the Cretans, who were 
 not attached to his person, but to his money, as 
 bees are to the honey-comb. For he carried 
 great treasure along with him, and suffered them 
 to take out of it cups and bow'ls, and other vessels 
 of gold and silver,! to the value of fiftv' talents. ^ 
 But when he came to Amphipolis, and from thence i 
 to Mepscs,X his fears a litile abating, he sunk 
 again into his old and inborn distemper of avarice ; | 
 he lamented to his friends, that he bad inad- ^ 
 vertently given up to the Cretans some of the 
 
 * He was then in his seventeenth year. ^ 
 
 f He wras afraid to give it them, lest the Mace- 
 donians out of ^ite should take all the rest. 
 
 X A manuscript copy has it Galepsus, probably 
 upon the authority of Livy. 
 
196 PLUTARCirS LIVES, 
 
 gold plate of Alexander the Great, and he applied 
 to those that had it, and even begged of them 
 with tears, to return it him for the value in money. 
 Those that knew him well, easily discovered that 
 he was />laying^ the Cretc:n iv:th the Cretans,"^ but 
 such as were pre\xiiled upon to give up the plate, 
 lost all; for he never paid the money. Thus he 
 got thirty talents from his friends, ^yhich soon 
 after were to come into the hands of his enemies, 
 and with these he sailed to Samcthrace, where he 
 took refuge at the altar of Castor and Pollux, f 
 The Macedonians have al ways had the character 
 of being lovers of their kings ; + but now, as if 
 the chief bulwark of their constitution was broken 
 dourn, and all were fallen with it, the}’’ submitted 
 to ^T^inilius, and in two days he was master of all 
 Macedonia. This seems to give some countenance 
 to those who impute these events to fortune. ^ A 
 prodigy", which happened at Amphipolis, testified 
 also the favour of the gods. The consul was 
 offering sacrifice there, and the sacred ceremonies 
 were begun, when a flash of lightning fell upon 
 the altar, and at once consumed and consecrated 
 the victim. But the share which fame had in this 
 affair exceeds both that prodigy and what they 
 tell us of his good fortune. For, on the fourth 
 day after Perseus was beaten at Pydna, as the 
 people were at the equestrian games in Rome, a 
 report was suddenly spread in the first seats of 
 the theatre, .that ^Emilius had gained a great 
 battle over Perseus, and overturned the kingdom 
 of Macedon. The news wxis made public in a 
 moment, the multitude clapped their hands and 
 set up great acclamations, and it passed current 
 that day in the city. AJfter wards, when it ap- 
 peared that it had no good foundation, the story 
 dropped for the present ; but when a few days 
 after it was confirmed be5’^ond dispute,! they could 
 not but admire the report which was its harbinger, 
 and the fiction which turned to truth. 
 
 In like manner it is said that an account of the 
 battle of the Italians near the river Sagara, was 
 carried into Peloponnesus the same day it was 
 
 fought; and of the defeat of the Persians at 
 Mycale, wath equal expedition, to Platrea : and 
 that very soon after the battle which the Romans 
 gained over the Tarquins and^ the people of 
 Latium, that fought under their banners, two 
 young men of uncommon size and beauty, who 
 w'ere conjectured to be Castor and Pollu.x, arrived 
 at Rome, from the army, wath the news of it. 
 The first man they met wath, by the fountain in 
 the market-place, as they were refreshing their 
 horses, that foamed with sw'eat, expressed his 
 surprise at their account of the victory ; w'here- 
 upon they are said to have smiled, and to have 
 stroked his beard, which immediately turned from 
 black to yellow\ This circumstance gained credit 
 to his report, and got him the surname of yEno~ 
 barbuSy or Yellow Beard. 
 
 All these stories are confirmed by that w’hich 
 happened in our times. For when Lucius 
 Antonins rebelled against Domitian, Rome was 
 much alarmed, and expected a bloody wiar in 
 Germany, but on a sudden, and of their own 
 proper motion, the people raised a_ report, and 
 spread it over the cit^q that Antonius Avas van- 
 quished and slain, that his army w^as cut in 
 pieces, and not one man had escaped. Such a 
 run had the new’S, and such was the credit given 
 to it, that many of the magistrates offered sacrifice 
 on the occasion. But when the author of it was 
 sought after, they were referred from one to 
 another, all their inquiries were eluded, and at 
 last the new'S w^as lost in the immense crowd, as 
 in a vast ocean. Thus the report, appearing to 
 have no solid foundation, immediately vanished. 
 But as Domitian was marching his forces to 
 chastise the rebels, messengers and letters met 
 him on the road, which brought an account of the 
 victory. Then tliey found that it w’as w^on the 
 same day the report w'as propagated, though the 
 field of battle was more than 20,000 furlongs from 
 Rome. This is a fact w'hich no one can be un- 
 acquainted with. , 
 
 But to return to the story of Perseus : Cneius 
 Octavius, who w^as joined in command wuth 
 .^Emilius, came with his fleet to Samothrace, 
 where, out of reverence to the gods,* he permitted 
 Perseus to enjoy the protection of the asylum, but 
 watched the coasts and guarded against his 
 escape. Perseus, however, found means privately 
 to engage one Orandes, a Cretan, to take him and 
 
 * It was an ancient proverb, “The Cretans 
 are always liars.” St. I^aul has quoted it from 
 Callimachus. 
 
 t He carried with him 2000 talents, 
 t ^Yhen Perseus was at Amphipolis, being 
 afraid that the inhabitants would take him and 
 deliver him up to the Romans, he came out with 
 Philip, the only child he had with him, and 
 having mounted the tribunal, began to speak ; 
 but his tears flowed so fast, that, after several 
 trials, he found it impracticable to proceed. 
 Descending again from the tribunal, he spoke to 
 Evander, who then went up to supply his place, 
 and began to speak ; but the people, who hated 
 him, refused to hear him, crjung out, “ Begone, 
 begone ; we are resolved not to expose oiu*selves, 
 our waves, and our children, for your sakes. Fly, 
 therefore, and leave us to make the best terms we 
 can with the conquerors.” Evander had been the 
 principal actor in the assassination of Eumenes, 
 and was afterwards despatched in Samothrace, by 
 order of Perseus, who w*as afraid that Evander 
 would accuse him as the author ot that mu^^. 
 
 § It was confirmed by the arrival of Q. Fabms 
 ^laximus, the son of iEmilius, L. Lentulus, and 
 Q. Metellus, w'ho had been sent express by 
 iEmilius, and reached Rome the twentieth day 
 after the action. 
 
 L — 
 
 * The gods of Samothrace were dreaded by all 
 nations. The pagans carried their prejudices so 
 far in favour of those pretended deities, that they^ 
 were struck with awe upon tlie bare mention of 
 their names. Of all the oaths that were in use 
 among the ancients, that by these gods was 
 deemed the most sacred and inviolable. Such as 
 were found not to have observed this oath were 
 looked upon as the curse of mankind, ^d persons 
 devoted to destruction. Diodorus (lib. v.) tells 
 us that these gods were always present, and never 
 failed to assist those that were initiated, and 
 called upon them in any sudden and upexpected 
 danger ; and that none ever duly performed their 
 ceremonies without being amply rewarded for 
 their piety. No wonder, then, if the places of 
 ; refuge in this island were very highly revered. 
 
 Besides the temple of Castor and Pollux, to which 
 ' Perseus fled, there was also a wood, esteemed 
 • such, where those who were admitted to the holy 
 rites of the Cablrl, used to meet. 
 
PAULUS MMILIUS. 197 
 
 his treasure into his vessel, and carry them off. 
 He, like a true Cretan, took in the treasure, and 
 advised Perseus to come in the night, with his 
 wife and children, and necessary attendants to the 
 port called Demetrium ; but, before this, he had 
 set sail. Miserable was the condition of Perseus, 
 compelled as he was to escape through a narrow 
 window, and to let himself down by the wall, with 
 his wife and children, who had little experienced 
 such fatigue and hardship ; but still more pitiable 
 were his groans when, as he wandered by the 
 shore, one told him, that he had _seen_ Orandes a 
 good way off at sea. By this time it was day, 
 and, destitute of all other hope, he fled back to 
 the wall. He was not, indeed, undiscovered, yet 
 he reached the place of retuge, with his wife, 
 before the Romans could take measures to prevent 
 it. His children he put in the hands of Ion, who 
 had been his favourite, but now was his betrayer ; 
 for he delivered them up to the Romans ; and so 
 by the strongest necessity with v.^hich nature can 
 be bound, obliged him, as beasts do, when their 
 young are taken, to yield himself to those who 
 had his children in their power. 
 
 He had the greatest confidence in Nasica, and 
 for him he inquired ; but as he was not there, he 
 bewailed his fate, and sensible of the necessity 
 he lay under, he surrendered himself to Octavius. 
 Then it appeared more plain than ever, that he 
 laboured under a more despicable disease than 
 avarice itself — I mean the fear of death ; and this 
 deprived him. even of pity, the only consolation 
 of which fortune does not rob the distressed. ^ For 
 when he desired to be conducted to iFmilius,* 
 the consul rose from his seat, and, accompanied 
 with his friends, went to receive him with tears 
 in his eyes, as a great man unhappily fallen 
 through the displeasure of the gods. But Perseus 
 behaved in the vilest manner ; he bowed down 
 with his face to the earth, he embraced the 
 Roman’s knees; his expressions were so mean 
 and his entreaties so abject, that .^milius could 
 not endure them ; but regarding him with an e^m 
 of regret and indignation, “ Why dost thou, 
 wretched man !” said he, “acquit Fortune of what 
 might seem her greatest crime, by a behaviour 
 which makes it appear that thou deservest her 
 frowns, and that thou art not only now, but hast 
 been long unworthy the protection of that goddess ? 
 Why dost thou tarnish my laurels, and detract 
 from my achievements, by showing thyself a mean 
 adversary, and unfit to cope_ with a Roman? 
 Courage in the unfortunate is highly revered, 
 even by an enemy; and cowardice, though it 
 meets with success, is held in great contempt 
 among the Romans.” 
 
 Notwithstanding this severe rebuke, he raised 
 
 him up, gave him his hand, and delivered him 
 into the custody of Tubero. Then taking his 
 sons, his sons-in-law, and the principal officers, 
 particularly the younger sort, back with him into 
 his tent, he sat a long time silent, to the astonish- 
 ment of the whole company. At last, he began 
 to speak of the vicissitudes of fortune, and of 
 human affairs. “ Is it fit, then,” said he, “ that 
 a mortal should be elated by prosperity, and 
 plume himself upon the overturning a city, or a 
 kingdom? Should we not rather attend to the 
 instructions of Fortune, who, by such visible 
 marks of her instability, and of the weakness of 
 human power, teaches every one that goes to w’ar, 
 to expect from her nothing solid and permanent ? 
 Wtiat time for confidence can there be to man, 
 when in the very instant of victor3q he must 
 necessarily dread the power of fortune, and the 
 very joy of success must be mingled with anxiety, 
 from a reflection on the course of unsparing fate, 
 which humbles one man to-day, and to-morrow 
 another ? When one short hour has been sufficient 
 to overthrow the house of Alexander, who arrived 
 at such a pitch of glory, and extended his empire 
 over great part of the world ; when you see princes 
 that were lately at the head of immense armies, 
 receive their provisions for the day from the hands 
 of their enemies ; shall you dare to flatter your- 
 selves that fortune . has firmly settled your pros- 
 perity, or that it is proof against the attacks of 
 time? Shall you not rather, my 3^oung friends, 
 quit this elation of heart, and the vain raptures of 
 victory, and humble yourselves in the thought of 
 what may happen hereafter, _ in the expectation 
 that the gods will send some misfortune to counter- 
 balance the present success?” .^milius, they 
 tell us, having said a great deal to this purpose, 
 dismissed the young men, seasonably chastised 
 with this grave discourse, and restrained in their 
 natural inclination to arrogance. 
 
 When this was done, he put his army in 
 quarters, while he went to take a view of Greece. 
 This progress was attended both with honour to 
 himself, and advantage to the Greeks ; for he 
 redressed the people’s grievances, he reformed 
 their civil government, and gave them gratuities, 
 to some wheat, and to others oil, out of the royal 
 stores ; in which such vast quantities are said to 
 have been found, that the number of those that 
 asked and received was too small to exhaust the 
 whole. Finding a great square pedestal of white 
 marble at Delphi, designed for a golden statue of 
 Perseus, he ordered his own to be put upon it ; * 
 alleging, that it was but just, that the conquered 
 should give place to the conqueror. At Olympia, 
 we are told, he uttered that celebrated saying, 
 “This Jupiter of Phidias is the very Jupiter of 
 of Homer.” 
 
 Upon the arrival of the ten commissioners f 
 
 * Octavius, as soon as he had the king in his 
 power, put him on board the admiral galley, and 
 having embarked also all his treasure that was 
 left, the Roman fleet weighed and stood for 
 Amphipolis. An express was despatched from 
 thence to acquaint iFmilius with what had hap- 
 pened, who sent Tubero, his son-in-law, with 
 severail persons of distinction, to meet Perseus. 
 The consul ordered sacrifices to be immediately 
 offered, and made the same rejoicings as if a new 
 victory had been obtained. The whole camp ran 
 out to see the royal prisoner, who, covered with 
 a mourning cloak, walked alone to the tent of 
 yFmilius. 
 
 * This was not quite so consistent with his 
 humiliating discourse on the vicissitudes of 
 fortune. 
 
 t These ten legates were all men of consular 
 dignity, who came to assist vFmilius in .settling a 
 new form of government. The Macedonians were 
 not much charmed with the promise of liberty, 
 because they could not well comprehend what 
 that liberty was. They saw evident contradictions 
 in the decree, which, though jt spoke of leaving 
 them under their own laws, imposed many new 
 ones, and threatened more. What most disturbed 
 
198 FLUTARCH^S LIVES. 
 
 from Rome for settling the affairs of Macedonia, 
 he declared the lands and cities of the Macedonians 
 free, and ordered that they should be governed 
 by their own laws ; only reserving a tribute to 
 the Romans of 100 talents, which was not half 
 what their kings had imposed. 
 
 After this he exhibited various games and 
 spectacles, offered sacrifices to the gods, and 
 made great entertainments ; for all which he found 
 an abundant supply in the treasures of the king. 
 And he showed so just a discernment in the 
 ordering, the placing, and saluting of his guests, 
 and in distinguishing what degree of civility was 
 due to every man’s rank and quality, that the 
 Greeks were amazed at his knowledge of matters 
 of mere politeness, and that amidst his great 
 actions, even trifles did not escape his attention, 
 but were conducted with the greatest decorum. 
 That which afforded him the highest satisfaction 
 was, that, notwithstanding the magnificence and 
 variety of his preparations, he himself gave the 
 greatest pleasure to those he entertained. And 
 to those that expressed their admiration of his 
 management on these occasions, he said, “That 
 it required the same genius to draw up an army 
 and to order an entertainment ; * that the one 
 might be most formidable to the enemy, and the 
 other most agreeable to the company.” 
 
 Among his other good qualities, his dis- 
 interestedness and magnanimity stood foremost 
 in the esteem of the world. For he would not 
 so much as look upon the immense quantity of 
 silver and gold that was collected out of the royal 
 palaces, but delivered it t;o the qucestors^ to be 
 carried into the public treasury. He reserved 
 only the books of the king’s library for his sons, 
 who were men of letters ; and in distributing 
 rewards to those that had distinguished them- 
 selves in the battle, he gave a silver cup of five 
 pounds weight to his son-in-law, iElius Tubero. 
 This is that Tubero who, as we have already 
 mentioned, was one of the sixteen relations that 
 lived together, and were all supported by one 
 small farm ; and this piece of plate, acquired by 
 virtue and honour, is affirmed to be the first 
 that was in the family of the Ilians ; neither 
 they nor their wives having, before this, either 
 used or wanted any vessels of silver or gold. 
 
 After he had made every proper regulation, f 
 taken his leave of the Greeks, and exhorted the 
 Macedonians to remember the liberty which the 
 Romans had bestowed on them,+ and to preserve 
 
 it by good laws and the happiest harmony, he 
 marched into Epirus.^ The senate had made a 
 decree, that the soldiers who had fought under 
 him against Perseus should have the spoil of the 
 cities of Epirus. In order, therefore, that they 
 might fall upon_ them unexpectedly, he sent for 
 ten of the principal inhabitants of each city, and 
 fixed a day for them to bring in whatever silver 
 and gold could be found in their houses and 
 temples. With each of these he sent a centurion 
 and guard of soldiers, under pretence of searching 
 for and receiving the precious metal, and as for 
 this purpose only. But when the day came, they 
 rushed upon all the inhabitants, and began to 
 seize and plunder them. Thus in one hour 
 150,000 persons were made slaves, and seventy 
 cities sacked. Yet from this general ruin and 
 desolation, each soldier had no more than eleven 
 drachmas to his share. How shocking was such 
 a destruction for the sake of such advantage ! 
 
 iEmilius, having executed this commission, so 
 contrary to his mildness and humanity, went 
 down to Oricum, where he embarked his forces, 
 and passed over into Italy. He sailed up the 
 Tiber in the king’s galley, which had sixteen 
 ranks of oars, and was richly adorned with arms 
 taken from the enemy, and with cloth of scarlet 
 and purple ; and the banks of the river being 
 covered with multitudes that came to see the ship 
 as it sailed slowly against the stream, the Romans 
 in some measure anticipated his triumph. 
 
 But the soldiers who looked with longing eyes 
 on the wealth of Perseus, when they found their 
 expectations disappointed, indulged a secret re- 
 sentment, and were ill affected to .^milius. In 
 public they alleged another cause. They said he 
 had behaved in command in a severe and imperious 
 manner, and therefore they did not meet his wishes 
 for a triumph. Servius Galba, who had served 
 under iEmilius, as a tribune, and who had a per- 
 sonal enmity to him, observing this, pulled off the 
 mask, and declared^ that no triumph ought to be - 
 allowed him. Having spread among the soldiery 
 several calumnies against the general, and sharp- 
 ened the resentment which they had already 
 conceived, Galba requested another day of the 
 tribunes of the people ; because the remaining 
 four hours, he said, were not sufficient for the 
 intended impeachment. But as the tribunes 
 ordered him to speak then, if he had anything to 
 say, he began a long harangue full of injurious 
 and false allegations, and spun it out to the end 
 of the day. When it was dark, the tribunes dis- 
 missed the assembly. The soldiers, now more 
 insolent than ever, thronged about Galba ; and 
 animating each other, before it was light took 
 their stand again in the Capitol, where the tribunes 
 had ordered the assembly to be held. . 
 
 As soon as day appeared, it was put to the vote, 
 and the first tribe gave it against the triumph. 
 When this was understood by the rest of the as- 
 sembly and the senate, the commonalty expressed 
 great concern at the injury done to iEmilius, but 
 their words had no effect : the principal senators 
 
 them, was a division of their kingdom, whereby, 
 as a nation, they were separated and disjointed 
 from each other. 
 
 * To these two particulars, of drawing up an 
 army, and ordering an entertainment, Henry IV. 
 of France added — the making love. 
 
 t At the close of these proceedings, Andronicus 
 the .^tolian, and Neo the Boeotian, because they 
 had always been friends to Perseus, and had not 
 deserted him even now, were condemned and lost 
 their heads. So unjust amidst all the specious 
 appearances of justice were the conquerors. 
 
 I This boasted favour of the Romans to the 
 people of Macedon, was certainly nothing extra- 
 ordinary. Their country being now divided into 
 four districts, it was declared unlawful for any 
 person to intermarry, to carry on any trade, to 
 buy or sell any lands to any one v/ho was not an 
 inhabitant of his own district. They were pro- 
 
 hibited to import any salt ; or to sell any timber 
 fit for building ships to the barbarian nations. 
 All the nobility, and their children exceeding the 
 age of fifteen, were commanded immediately to 
 transport themselves into Italy : _and the supreme 
 power, in Macedon, was vested in certain Roman 
 senators. 
 
FA ULUS MMILIUS. 199 
 
 insisted that it was an insufferable attempt, and 
 encouraged each other to repress the bold and 
 licentious spirit of the soldiers, who would in 
 time stick at no instance of injustice and violence,* 
 if something was not done to prevent their de- 
 priving Paulus iEmilius of the honours of his 
 victory. They pushed, therefore, through the 
 crowd, and coming up in a body, demanded that 
 the tribunes would put a stop to the suffrages, 
 until they had delivered what they had to say to 
 the people. The poll being stopped accordingly, 
 and silence made, Marcus Servilius, a man of 
 consular dignity, who had killed three and twenty 
 enemies in single combat, stood up, and spoke as 
 follows : 
 
 “ I am now sensible, more than ever, how great 
 a general Paulus iEmilius is, when with so 
 mutinous and disorderly an army he has per- 
 formed such great and honourable achievements : 
 but I am surprised at the inconsistency of the 
 Roman people, if after rejoicing in the triumphs 
 over the Illyrians and Ligurians, they envy them- 
 selves the pleasure of seeing the king of Macedon 
 brought alive, and all the glory of Alexander and 
 Philip led captive by the Roman arms. For is it 
 not a strange thing for you, who upon a slight 
 rumour of the victory brought hither some time 
 since, offered sacrifices, and made your requests 
 to the gods, that you might soon see that account 
 verified ; now the consul is returned with a real 
 victory, to rob the gods of their due honour, and 
 yourselves of the satisfaction, as if you were afraid 
 to behold the greatness of the conquest, or were 
 willing to spare the king? Though indeed, it would 
 be much better to refuse the triumph out of mercy 
 to him, than envy to your general. But to such 
 excess is your malignity arrived, that a man who 
 never received a wound, a man shining in delicacy 
 and fattened in the shade, dares discourse about 
 the conduct of the war and the right to a triumph, 
 to you who at the expense of so much blood have 
 learned how to judge of the valour or misbehaviour 
 of your commanders.’* 
 
 At the same time, baring his breast, he showed 
 an incredible number of scars upon it, and then 
 turning his back, he uncovered some parts which 
 it is reckoned indecent to expose ; and addressing 
 himself to Galba, he said, “Thou laughest at 
 this ; but I glory in these marks before my fellow- 
 citizens ; for I got them by being on horseback 
 day and night in their service. But go on to 
 collect the votes ; I will attend the whole business, 
 and mark those cowardly and ungrateful men, 
 who had rather have their own inclinations in- 
 dulged in war, than be properly commanded.” 
 This speech, they tell us, so humbled the soldiery, 
 and effected such an alteration in them, that the 
 triumph was voted to .^milius by every tribe. 
 
 The triumph is said to have been ordered after 
 this manner. In every theatre, or as they call it, 
 circus, where equestrian games used to be held, 
 in forum, and other parts of the city, which 
 
 were convenient for seeing the procession, the 
 people erected scaffolds, and on the day of the 
 triumph were all dressed in white. The temples 
 were ^ set open, adorned with garlands, and 
 smoking with incense. Many lie tors and other 
 officers compelled the disorderly crowd to make 
 way, and opened a clear passage. The triumph 
 
 took up three days. On the first, which was 
 scarce sufficient for the show, were exhibited the 
 images, paintings, and colossal statues, taken 
 from the enemy, and now carried in 250 chariots. 
 Next day, the richest and most beautiful of the 
 Macedonian arms were brought up in a great 
 number of waggons. These glittered with new 
 furbished brass and polished steel ; and, though 
 they were piled with great art and judgment, yet 
 seemed to _ be thrown together promiscuously ; 
 helmets being placed upon shields, breastplates 
 upon graves, Cretan targets, Thracian bucklers, 
 and quivers of arrows huddled among the horses’ 
 bits, with the points of naked swords and long 
 pikes appearing through on every side. All these 
 arms were tied together with such a just liberty, 
 that room was left for them to clatter as they 
 were drawn along, and the clank of them was 
 so harsh and terrible, that they were not seen 
 without dread, though among the spoils of the 
 conquered. After the carriages, loaded with 
 arms, walked 3000 men, who carried the silver 
 money in 750 vessels, each of which contained 
 three talents, and was borne by four men. Others 
 brought bowls, horns, goblets, and cups, all of 
 silver, disposed in such order as would make the 
 best show, and valuable not only for their size 
 but the depth of the basso relievo. On the third 
 day, early in the morning, first came up the 
 trumpets, not with such airs as are used in a 
 procession of solemn entry, but with such as the 
 Romans sound when they animate their troops 
 to the charge. ^ These were followed by 120 fat 
 oxen, with their horns gilded, and set off with 
 ribbons and garlands. The young men that led 
 these victims, were girded with belts of curious 
 workmanship ; and after them came the boys 
 who carried the gold and silver vessels for the 
 sacrifice. Next went the persons that carried 
 the gold coin * in vessels which held three talents 
 each, like those that contained the silver, and 
 which were to the number of seventy-seven. Then 
 followed those that bore the consecrated bowl,f 
 of ten talents weight, which .^milius had caused 
 to be made of gold, and adorned with precious 
 stones ; and those that exposed to view the cups 
 of Antigonus of Seleucus, and such as were of 
 the make of the famed artist, Shericles, together 
 with the gold plate that had been used at Per- 
 seus’s table. Immediately after, was to be seen 
 the chariot of that prince, with his armour upon 
 it, and his diadem upon that. At a httle distance 
 his children were led captive, attended by a great 
 number of governors, masters, and preceptors, 
 all in tears, who stretched out their hands by 
 way of supplication to the spectators, and taught 
 the children to do the same. There were two 
 sons and one daughter, all so young, that they 
 were not much affected with the greatness of 
 
 * According to Plutarch’s account, there were 
 2250 talents of silver coin, and 231 of gold coin. 
 According to Valerius Antias it amounted to 
 somewhat more ; but Livy thinks his computa- 
 tion too small, and Velleius Paterculus makes it 
 almost twice as much. The account which Pa- 
 terculus gives of it is probably right, since the 
 money now brought from Macedonia set the Ro- 
 mans free from all taxes for 125 years. 
 
 t This bowl weighed 600 pounds : for the talent 
 weighed 60 pounds. It was consecrated to 
 Jupiter. 
 
 * This was sadly verified in the times of the 
 Roman emperors. 
 
200 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. \ 
 
 their misfortunes. This insensibility of theirs 
 made the change of their condition more pitiable ; 
 insomuch that Perseus passed on almost without 
 notice : so fixed were the eyes of the Romans 
 upon the children from pity of their fate, that 
 many of them shed tears, and none tasted the 
 joy of the triumph without a mixture of pain, 
 till they were gone by. Behind the children and 
 their train walked Perseus himself, clad all in 
 black, and wearing sandals of the fashion of his 
 country. He had the appearance of a man that 
 was overwhelmed with terror, and whose reason 
 was almost staggered with the weight of his mis- 
 fortunes. He was followed by a great number of 
 friends and favourites, whose countenances were 
 oppressed with sorrow, and who, by fixing then- 
 weeping eyes continually upon their prince, testi- 
 fied to the spectators, that it was his lot which 
 they lamented, and that they were regardless of 
 their own. He had sent, indeed, to iEmilius, to 
 desire that he might be excused from being led 
 in triumph, and being made a public spectacle. 
 But iEmilius, despising his cowardice and attach- 
 nient to life, by way of derision, it seems, sent 
 him word that it had been in his power to prevent 
 it, and still was, if he were so disposed ; hinting, 
 that he should prefer death to disgrace. But he 
 had not the courage to strike the blow, and the 
 vigour of his mind being destroyed by vain hopes, 
 he became a part of his own spoils. Next were 
 carried 400 coronets of gold, which the cities had 
 sent iEmilius, along with their embassies, as 
 compliments on his victory. Then came the 
 consul himself, riding in a magnificent chariot ; 
 a man, exclusive of the pomp of power, worthy 
 to be seen and admired, but his good mien was 
 now set off with a purple robe interwoven with 
 gold, and he held a branch of laurel in his right 
 hand. The whole army likewise carried boughs 
 of laurel, and divided into bands and companies, 
 followed the general’s chariot : some singing 
 satirical songs usual on such occasions, and some 
 chanting odes of victory, and the glorious exploits 
 of .^milius, who was revered and admired bj'- all, 
 and whom no good man could envy. 
 
 But, perhaps there is some superior Being, 
 whose office it is to cast a shade upon any great 
 and eminent prosperity, and so to mingle the lot 
 of human life, that it may not be perfectly free 
 from calamity ; but those, as Homer says,* may 
 
 think themselves most happy to whom fortune 
 gives an equal share of good and evil. For 
 iFmilius having four sons, two of wffiich, namely 
 Scipiq and Fabius, were_ adopted into other 
 families, as has been mentioned above, and two 
 others by his second wdfe, as yet but young, 
 whom he brought up in his own house ; one of 
 these died at fourteen years of age, five days 
 before his father’s triumph, and the other at 
 twelve, three days after. There was not a man 
 among the Romans that did not sympathise with 
 him in this affliction. All were shocked at the 
 cruelty of Fortune,* who scrupled not to introduce 
 such deep distress into a house that was full of 
 pleasure, of joy, and festal sacrifices, and to mix 
 the songs of victory and triumph with the mourn- 
 ful dirges of death. 
 
 .^milius, however, rightly considering that 
 mankind^ have need of courage and fortitude, not 
 only against swords and spears, but against every 
 attack of fortune, so tempered and qualified the 
 present emergencies, as to overbalance the evil 
 by dm good, and his private misfortunes by the 
 public prosperity ; that nothing might appear to 
 lessen the importance, or tarnish the glory of his 
 victory. For, soon after the burial of the first of 
 his sons, he made, as we said, his triumphal 
 entry ; and upon the death of the second soon 
 after the triumph, he assembled the people of 
 Rome, and made a speech to them, not like a 
 man that wanted consolation himself, but like 
 one who could al’eviate the grief which his fellow- 
 citizens felt for his misfortunes. 
 
 “Though I have never,” said he, “feared any 
 thing human, yet among things divine I have 
 always had a dread of Fortune, as the most faith- 
 less and variable of beings ; and because in the 
 course of this war she prospered every measure of 
 mine, the rather did I expect that some tempest 
 would follow so favourable a gale. For in one 
 day I passed the Ionian fro.n Brundusium to 
 Corcyra ; from thence in five days I reached 
 Delphi, and sacrificed to Apollo. In five days 
 more I took upon me the command of the army 
 in Macedonia ; and, as soon as I had offered the 
 usual sacrifices for purifying it, I proceeded to 
 action, and in the space of fifteen days from that 
 time put a glorious period to the war. Distrusting 
 the fickle goddess on account of such a run of 
 success, and now being secure and free from all 
 danger with respect to the enemy, I was most 
 apprehensive of a change of fortune in my passage 
 home ; having such a great and victorious army 
 to conduct, together with the spoils and royal 
 prisoners. Nay, when I arrived safe among 
 my countrymen, and beheld the city full of joy, 
 festivity, and gratitude, still I suspected Fortune, 
 
 happiness. However, Homer’s allegory seems 
 borrowed from the eastern manner of speaking : 
 thus in the Psalms, “ In the hand of the Lord 
 there is a cup, and he poureth out the same ; as 
 for the dregs thereof, all the ungodly of the earth 
 shall drink them. ” Psalm Ixxv. 8. 
 
 * Or more properly, the just and visible inter- 
 position of Providence, to punish in some measure 
 that general havoc of the human species which 
 the Roman pride and avarice had so recently 
 made in Greece. P'or though God is not the 
 author of evil, it is no impeachment of his good- 
 ness to suppose that by particular punishments 
 he chastises particular crimes. 
 
 * Plutarch here, refers to a passage in the 
 speech of Achilles to Priam in the last Iliad, 
 which is thus translated by Pope : 
 
 Two urns by Jove’s high throne have ever stood. 
 The source of evil one, and one of good. 
 
 From thence the cup of mortal man he fills. 
 Blessings to these, to those distributes ills ; 
 
 To most, he mingles both : the wretch decreed 
 To taste the bad unmix’d, is curs’d indeed. 
 
 The happiest taste not happiness sincere. 
 
 But find the cordial draught is dash’d with care. 
 
 Plato has censured it as an impiety to say that 
 God gives evil. God is not the author of evil. 
 Moral evil is the result of the abuse of free 
 agency, natural evil is the consequence of the 
 imperfection of matter : and the Deity stands 
 justified in his creating beings liable to both, 
 because natural imperfection wms necessary to 
 a progressive existence, moral imperfection was 
 necessary to virtue, and virtue was necessary to 
 
PAULUS MMILIUS. 
 
 201 
 
 knowing that she grants us no great favour with- 
 out some mixture of uneasiness or tribute of pain. 
 Thus full of anxious thoughts of what might 
 happen to the commonwealth, my fears did not 
 quit me, till this calamity visited my house, and 
 I had my two promising sons, the only heirs 1 
 had left myself, to bury one after another, on the 
 very days sacred to triumph. Now therefore 1 
 am secure as to the greatest danger, and I trust 
 and am fully persuaded that Fortune will continue 
 kind and constant to us, since she has taken 
 sufficient usury for her favours of me and mine ; 
 for the man who led the triumph is as great an 
 instance of the weakness of human power as he 
 that was led captive ; there is only this difference, 
 that the sons of Perseus, who were vanquished, 
 are alive ; and those of iEmilius, who conquered, 
 
 are no more.” i • -u a? -v 
 
 Such was the generous speech which /iLmiiius 
 made to the people, from a spirit of magnanimity 
 that was perfectly free from artifice. 
 
 Though he pitied the fate of Perseus, and was 
 well inclined to serve him, yet all he could do for 
 him, was to get him removed from the common 
 prison to a cleaner apartment and better diet. 
 In that confinement, according to most writers, 
 he starved himself to death. But some say the 
 manner of his death was very strange and peculiar. 
 The soldiers, they tell us, who were his keepers, 
 being on some account provoked at him, and 
 determined to wreak their malice, ^ when they 
 could find no other means of doing it, kept him 
 from sleep, taking turns to watch him, and using 
 such extreme diligence to keep him from rest, 
 that at last he was quite wearied out and died. 
 Two of his sons also died ; and the third,^named 
 Alexander, is said to have been distinguisned for 
 his art in turning and other small work ; and 
 having perfectly learned to speak and write the 
 Roman language, he was employed by the magis- 
 trates as a clerk, t in which capacity he showed 
 himself very serviceable and ingenious. 
 
 Of the acts of iRmilius with regard to Mace- 
 donia, the most acceptable to the Romans was, 
 that from thence he brought so much money into 
 the public treasury, that the people had no_ occa- 
 sion to pay any taxes till the times of Hiritius 
 and Pansa, who were consuls in the first war 
 between Antony and Csesar. ^Emilius had also 
 the uncommon and peculiar happiness, to be 
 highly honoured and caressed by the people, at 
 the same time that he remained attached to the 
 patrician party, and did nothing to ingratiate 
 himself with the commonalty, but ever acted in 
 concert with men of the first rank, in matters of 
 government. This conduct of his was afterwards 
 alleged by way of reproach against Scipio Afri- 
 canus, by Appius. These two being then the 
 
 * This account we have from Diodorus Siculus, 
 ap. Phot. Biblioth. Philip is said to have died 
 before his father, but how or where cannot be 
 collected, because the books of Livy, and of 
 Diodorus Siculus, which treat of those times, 
 are lost. 
 
 t Here was a remarkable instance of the pride 
 of the Roman senate, to have the son of a van- 
 quished king for their clerk : while Nicomedes, 
 the son of Prusas king of Bithynia, was educated 
 by them with all imaginable pomp and splendour, 
 because the father had put him under the care of 
 the republic. 
 
 most considerable men in Rome, stood for the 
 censorship ; the one having the senate and nobility 
 on his side, for the Appian family were always in 
 that interest, and the other not only great in him- 
 self, but ever greatly in favour with the people. 
 When, therefore, Appius saw Scipio come into 
 the forum attended by a crowd of mean persons, 
 and many who had been slaves, but who weie 
 able to cabal, to influence the multitude, and to 
 carry all before them, either by solicitation or 
 clamour, he cried out, “O Paulus iEmilius ! 
 groan, groan from beneath the earth, to think 
 that iEmilius the crier and Lycinius the rioter 
 conduct thy son to the censorship ! ” It is no 
 wonder if the cause of Scipio was espoused by 
 the people, since he was continually heaping 
 favours upon them. But iDmilius, though he 
 ranged himself on the side of the nobility, was 
 as much beloved by the populace as the most 
 insinuating of their demagogues. This appeared 
 in their bestowing upon him, among other honours, 
 that of the censorship, which is the most sacred of 
 all offices, and which has great authority annexed 
 to it, as in other respects, so particularly in the 
 power of inquiring into the morals of the citizens. 
 For the censors could expel from the senate any 
 member that acted in a manner unworthy of his 
 station, and enroll a man of character in that 
 body ; and they could disgrace one of the eques- 
 trian order who behaved licentiously, by taking 
 away his horse. They also took account of the 
 value of each man s estate, and registered the 
 number of the people. The number of citizens 
 which ^milius took, was 337,452. He declared 
 Marcus ^Dmilius Lepidus first senator, who had 
 already four times arrived at that dignity. He 
 expelled only three senators, \vho were men of no 
 note \ and with equal moderation both he and his 
 colleague Marcius Philippus behaved in examin- 
 ing into the conduct of the knights ^ -I 
 
 Having settled many important affairs while he 
 bore this office, he fell into a distemper, which at 
 first appeared very dangerous, but in time became 
 less threatening, though it still was troublesome 
 and difficult to be cured. By the advice there- 
 fore of his physicians, he sailed to Velia,^ where 
 he remained a long time near the sea, in a v<^iy 
 retired and quiet situation. In the mean time the 
 Romans greatly regretted his absence, and by 
 frequent exclamations in the theatres, testified 
 their extreme desire to see him again. At last, a 
 public sacrifice coming on, which necessarily 
 required his attendance, .^milius seeming now 
 sufficiently recovered returned to Rome, and 
 offered that sacrifice, with the assistance of the 
 other priests, amidst a prodigious multitude of 
 people, who expressed their joy for his return. 
 Next day he sacrificed again to the gods mr his 
 recovery. Hs-ving finisted. these rites, he re- 
 turned home and went to bed ; when he suddenly 
 fell into a delirium, in which he^ died the thii d 
 day, having attained to everything that is sup- 
 posed to contribute to the happiness of man. 
 
 His funeral was conducted with wonderful 
 solemnity ; the cordial regard of the public did 
 honour to his virtue, by the best and happiest 
 obsequies. These did not consist in the pomp of 
 gold, of ivory, or other expense and parade, but 
 
 * Plutarch here writes Elea instead of yelia, 
 and calls it a town in Italy, to distinguish it 
 from one of that name in Greece. 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 202 
 
 in esteem, in love, in veneration, expressed not 
 only by his countrymen, but by his very enemies. 
 For as many of the Spaniards, Ligurians, and 
 Macedonians,* as happened to be then at Rome, 
 and were young and robust, assisted in carrying 
 his bier; while the aged followed it, calling 
 iEmilius their benefactor, and the preserver of 
 
 * There were some of the Macedonian nobility, 
 who were then at Rome.^ Valerius Maximus 
 says, it was like a second triumph to iEmilius, to 
 have these persons assist in supporting his bier, 
 which was adorned with representations of his 
 conquest of their country. In fact, it was more 
 honourable than the triumph he had led up, be- 
 couse this bore witness to his humanity, and the 
 other only to his valour. 
 
 their countries. For he not only, at the time he 
 conquered them, gained the character of humanity, 
 but continued to do them services, and to take 
 care of them, as if they had been his friends and 
 relations. 
 
 The estate he left behind him scarcely amounted 
 to the sum of 370,000 denarii, of ^vhich he 
 appointed his sons joint heirs : but Scipio, the 
 younger son, who was adopted into the opulent 
 house of Africanus, gave up his part to his brother. 
 Such is the account we^ have of the life and 
 character of Paulus ^Lmilius.* 
 
 * A saying of his to his son Scipio is worth 
 mentioning : “ A good general never gives battle, 
 but when he is led to it, either by^ the last 
 necessity, or by a very favourable occasion.” 
 
 TIMOLEON AND PAULUS ^MILIUS COMPARED. 
 
 If we consider these two great men as history has 
 represented them, we shall find no striking 
 difference between them in the comparison. Both 
 carried on wars with very respectable enemies ; 
 the one with the Macedonians, the other with the 
 Carthaginians ; and both with extraordinary 
 success. One of them conquered Macedon, and 
 crushed the house of_ Antigonus, which had 
 flourished in a succession of seven kings ; the 
 other expelled tyranny out of Sicily, and restored 
 that island to its ancient liberty. It may be in 
 favour of iEmilius, that he had to do with Perseus 
 when in his full strength, and when he had beaten 
 the Romans ; and Timoleon with Dionysius, when 
 reduced to very desperate circumstances ; as, on 
 the other hand, it may be observed to the advan- 
 tage of Timoleon, that he subdued many tyrants, 
 and defeated a great army of Carthaginians, with 
 such forces as he happened to pick up, who were 
 not veteran and experienced troops like those of 
 .^milius, but mercenaries and undisciplined men, 
 who had been accustomed to fight only at their 
 own pleasure. For equal exploits, with unequal 
 means and preparations, reflect the greater glory 
 on the general who performs them. 
 
 Both paid a strict regard to justice and integrity 
 in their employments. iSmilius was prepared 
 from the first to behave so, by the laws and 
 manners of his country ; but Timoleon s probky 
 was owing entirely to himself. A proof of this is, 
 that in the time of iEmilius good order universally 
 prevailed among the Romans, through a spiiit of 
 obedience to their laws and usages, and a reve- 
 rence of their fellow citizens ; whereas, not one of 
 the Grecian generals who commanded in Sicily, 
 kept himself uncorrupted, except Dion: and 
 
 many entertained a jealousy that even he affected 
 monarchy, and dreamed of setting up such a 
 regal authority as that in Lacedaemon. Timaeus 
 informs us, that the Syracusans^ sent away 
 Gylippiis loaded with infamy, for his insatiable 
 avarice and rapacity, while he had the commarm ; 
 and many writers give account of the mis(^- 
 meanours and breach of articles which Pharax the 
 Spartan, and Callippus the Athenian, were guilty 
 of, in hopes of gaining the sovereignty of Sicily. 
 
 But what were these men, and on what power did 
 they build such hopes? Pharax was a follower 
 of Dionysius, who was already expelled, and 
 Callippus was an officer in the foreign troops in 
 the service of Dion. But Timoleon was sent to 
 be general of the Syracusans, at their earnest 
 request ; he had not an army to provide, but 
 found one ready formed, which cheerfully obeyed 
 his orders ; and yet he employed this power for 
 no other end, than the destruction of their oppres- 
 sive masters. 
 
 Yet again, it was to be admired in .®mihus 
 that, though he subdued so opulent a kingdom, 
 he did not add one drachma to his substance. 
 He would not touch, nor even look upon the 
 money himself, though he gave many liberal 
 gifts to others. I do not, however, blame Timo- 
 leon fbr accepting of a handsome house and lands : 
 for it is no disgrace to take something out of so 
 much, but to take nothing at all is better ; and 
 that is the most consummate virtue which shows 
 that it is above pecuniary considerations, even 
 when it has the best claim to them. 
 
 As some bodies are able to bear heat, and 
 others cold, but those are the strongest which 
 are equally fit to endure either ; so the vigour 
 and firmness of those minds are the greatest 
 which are neither elated by prosperity, nor broken 
 by adversity. And in this respect, .^milius 
 appears to have been superior ; for in the great 
 and severe misfortune of the loss of his sons, he 
 kept up the same dignity of carriage as in the 
 midst of the happiest success. ^ But Timoleon, 
 when he had acted as a, patriot should, with 
 regard to his brother, did not let his reason 
 support him against his grief; but becoming a 
 prey to sorrow and remorse, for the space of 
 twenty years he could not so much as look upon 
 the place where the public business was trans- 
 acted, much less take a part in it. A man should, 
 indeed, be afraid and ashamed of what is really 
 shameful ; but to shrink under every reflection 
 upon his character, though it speaks a delicacy 
 of temper, has nothing in it of true greatness of 
 mind. 
 
( 203 ) 
 
 PELOPIDAS. 
 
 Cato the elder, hearing somebody commend a 
 man who was rashly and indiscreetly daring in 
 war, made this just observation — that there was 
 great difference between a due regard to valour 
 and a contempt of life. To this purpose, there 
 is a story of one of the soldiers of Antigonus, who 
 was astonishingly brave, but of an unhealthy 
 complexion and bad habit of body. The king 
 asked him the cause of his paleness, and he ac- 
 knowledged that he had a private infirmity. He 
 therefore gave his physicians a strict charge, that 
 if any remedy could be found, they should apply 
 it with the utmost care. Thus the man was 
 cured ; but then he no longer courted, nor risked 
 his person as before. Antigonus questioned him 
 about it, and could not forbear to express his 
 wonder at the change. The soldier did not con- 
 ceal the real cause, “You, Sir,” said he, “have 
 made me less bold, by delivering me from that 
 misery, which made my life of no account to me.” 
 Froni the same way of arguing it was, that a 
 certain Sybarite said of the Spartans — it was no 
 wonder if they ventured their lives freely in battle, 
 since death was a deliverance to them from such 
 a train of labours, and from such wretched diet. 
 It was natural for the Sybarites,* who were dis- 
 solved in luxury and pleasure, to think that they 
 who despised death, did it not from a love of 
 virtue and honour, but because they were v^eary 
 of life. But in fact, the Lacedaemonians thought 
 it a pleasure either to live or to die, as virtue and 
 right reason directed ; and so this epitaph 
 testifies : 
 
 Nor life, nor death, they deem’d the happier 
 state ; 
 
 But life that’s glorious, or a death that’s great. 
 For neither is the avoiding of death to be found 
 fault with,^ if a man is not dishonourably fond of 
 life ; nor is the meeting it with courage to be 
 commended, if he is disgusted with life. Hence 
 it is, that Homer leads out the boldest and bravest 
 of his warriors to battle always well armed : and 
 the Grecian lawgivers punish him who throws 
 away his shield, not him who loses his sword or 
 spear ; thus instructing us, that the first care of 
 every man, especially of every governor of a city, 
 or commander of an army, should be, to defend 
 himself, and after that, he is to think of annoying 
 the enemy. For if, according to the comparison 
 inade by Iphicrates, the light-armed resemble 
 the hands, the cavalry the feet, the main-body 
 of infantry the breast, and the general the head ; 
 then that general who suffers himself to be carried 
 away by his impetuosity, so as to expose himself 
 to needless hazards, not only endangers his own 
 life, but the lives of his whole army, whose safety 
 
 * The Sybarites were a colony of Greeks, who 
 ^ttled in ancient times on the gulf of Tarentum. 
 The felicity of their situation, their wealth and 
 power drew them into luxury, which was remark- 
 able to a proverb. But one cannot credit the 
 extrava^nt things which Athenaeus relates of 
 them. ^ Their chief city, which at first was called 
 Sybaris, from a river of that name, was afterwa^-ds 
 named Thurium, or Thurii. 
 
 depends upon his. Callicratidas, therefore, though 
 otherwise a great man, did not answer the sooth- 
 sayer well, who desired him not to expose him- 
 self to danger, because the entrails of the victim 
 threatened his life. “ Sparta,” said he, “is not 
 bound up in one man.” For in battle, he was 
 indeed but one, when acting under the orders 
 of another, whether at sea or land ; but when he 
 had the command, he virtually comprehended the 
 whole force in himself ; so that he was no longer 
 a single person, when such numbers must perish 
 with him. Much better was the saying of old 
 Antigonus, when he was going to engage in a 
 sea-fight near the isle of Andros. Somebody 
 observed to him that the enemy’s fleet was much 
 larger than his : “For how many ships then dost 
 thou reckon me ? ” He represented the import- 
 ance of the commander great, as in fact it is, 
 when he is a man of experience and valour ; and 
 the first duty of such a one is to preserve him who 
 preserves the whole. 
 
 On the same account we must allow that Timo- 
 theus expressed himself happily, when Chares 
 showed the Athenians the wounds he had re- 
 ceived, when their general, and his shield pierced 
 with a spear : “I, for my part,” said he, “was 
 much ashamed when, at the siege of Samos, a 
 javelin fell near me, as if I had behaved too like 
 a young man, and not as became the commander 
 of so great an armament.” For where the scale 
 of the whole action turns upon the general’s 
 risking his own person, there he is to stand the 
 combat, and to brave the greatest danger, with- 
 ^^S^rding those who say, that a good general 
 should die of old age, or, at least, an old man : 
 but when the advantage to be reaped from his 
 personal bravery is but small, and all is lost in 
 case of a miscarriage, no one then expects that 
 the general should be endangered, by exerting too 
 much of the soldier. 
 
 Thus much I thought proper to premise before 
 the lives of Pelopidas and Marcellus, who were 
 both great men, and both perished by their rash- 
 ness. _ Both were excellent soldiers, did honour 
 to their country by the greatest exploits, and had 
 the most formidable adversaries to deal with ; 
 for the one defeated Hannibal, until that time 
 invincible, and the other conquered the Lacedae- 
 monians, who were masters both by sea and 
 land ; and yet at last they both threw awaj’- their 
 lives, and spilt their blood without any sort of 
 discretion, when the times most required such 
 men and such generals. From this resem- 
 blance between them, we have drawn their 
 parallel. 
 
 Pelopidas, the son of Hippoclus, was of an 
 illustrious family in Thebes, as was also Epa- 
 minondas. Brought up in affluence, and coming 
 in his youth to a great estate, he applied himself 
 to relieve such necessitous persons as deserved 
 his bounty, to show that he was really master of 
 his riches, not their slave. For the greatest part 
 of men, as Aristotle says, either through covetous- 
 ness make no use of their wealth, or else abuse 
 it through prodigality ; and these live perpetual 
 slaves to their pleasures, as those do to care and 
 toil. The Thebans with grateful hearts enjoyed 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 204 
 
 the liberality and munificence of Pelopidas. 
 Epaminondas alone could not be persuaded to 
 share in it. Pelopidas, however, partook in the 
 poverty of his friend, glorjnng in a plainness of 
 dress and slenderness of diet, indefatigable in 
 labour, and plain and open in his conduct in the 
 highest posts. In short, he was like Capaneus in 
 Euripides — 
 
 WTiose opulence was great. 
 
 And yet his heart was not elated. 
 
 He looked upon it as a disgrace to expend more 
 upon his own person than the poorest Theban. 
 As for Epaminondas, poverty was his inheritance, 
 and consequently familiar to him, but he made 
 it still more light and easy by philosophy and by 
 the uniform simplicity of his life. j i. j 
 
 Pelopidas married into a noble family, and had 
 several children, but setting no greater value upon 
 money than before, and devoting all his time to 
 the concerns of the commonwealth, he impaired 
 his substance. And when his friends admonished 
 him, that money which he neglected was a ,ve^ 
 necessary thing : “It is necessary indeed, said 
 he, “for Nicodemus there,” pointing to a man 
 that was both lame and blind. 
 
 Epaminondas and he were both equally in- 
 clined to every virtue, but Pelopidas delighted 
 more in the exercises of the body, and Epaminon- 
 das in the improvement of the mind ; and the 
 one diverted himself in the wrestling-ring or in 
 hunting, while the other spent his hours of leisure 
 in hearing or reading something in philosophy. 
 Among the many things that reflectea glory upon 
 both, there was nothing which men of sense so 
 much admired as that strict and inviolable friend- 
 ship which subsi.sted between them from first to 
 1 St, in all the high posts \vhicb they held, both 
 military and civil. For if w^e consider the 
 administration of Aristides and Themistocles, of 
 Cimon and Pericles, of Nicias and Alcibiad^, 
 how much the common concern was injured by 
 their dissension, their envy and jealousy of each 
 other ; and then cast our eyes upon the mutual 
 kindness and esteem which Pelopidas and Epami- 
 nondas inviolably preserved, w^e may justly call 
 these colleagues in civil government and military 
 command, and not those whose study it was to get 
 the better of each other rather than of the enemy. 
 The true cause of the difference was the virtue 
 of these Thebans, which led them not to seek, 
 in any of their measures, their own honour, and 
 wealth, the pursuit of which is always attended 
 with, envy End. strife \ but being both inspired 
 from the first with a divine ardour to raise their 
 coimtry to the summit of glory, for this purpose 
 they availed themselves of the achievements ot 
 each other, as if they had been their own. 
 
 But many are of opinion, that their extraordi- 
 nary friendshin took its rise from the campaign 
 which they made at Mantinea,* among the suc- 
 cours which the Thebans had sent the Lacedse- 
 monians, w^ho as yet were their alhes. For being 
 placed together among the heavy-armed mfantiy, 
 and fighting with the Arc adians, that wing of the 
 
 * We must take care not to confound tins with 
 the famous battle at Mantinea, in which Epa- 
 minondas "was slain. For that battle w^ fought 
 against the Eacedsemonians, and this for them. 
 The action here spoken of was probably about 
 the third year of the ninety-eighth olympiad. 
 
 Lacedaemonians in which they were gave way and 
 was broken ; whereupon Pelopidas and Epami- 
 nondas locked their shields together, and repulsed 
 all that attacked them, till at last Pelopidas, 
 having received seven large w'ounds, fell upon a 
 heap of friends and enemies who lay dead together. 
 Epaminondas, though he thought there was no 
 life left in him, yet stood forv/ard to defend his 
 body and his arms, and being determined to die 
 rather than leave his companion in the power of 
 his enemies, he engaged with numbers at once. 
 He was now in ex^eme danger, being wounded 
 in the breast with a spear, and in the arm with 
 a sword, when Agesipolis, king of the Lacedae- 
 monians, brought succours from the other wing, 
 and, beyond all expectation, delivered them both. 
 
 After this, the Spartans, in appearance, treated 
 the Thebans as friends and allies,* but, in realit}^, 
 they were suspicious of their spirit and power ; 
 particularly they hated the party of Ismenias and 
 Androclides, in which Pelopidas was, as attached 
 to liberty and a popular government. ^ Therefore 
 Archias, Leontidas, and Philip, men inclined to 
 an oligarchy, and rich withal, and ambitious, 
 persuaded Phoebidas, the Lacedaemonian, who 
 was marching by Thebes with a body of troops,! 
 to seize the castle called Cadmea, to drive the 
 opposite party out of the city, and to put the 
 administration into the hands of the nobility, 
 subject to the inspection of the Lacedaemonians. 
 Phoebidas listened to the proposal, and coming 
 upon the Thebans unexpectedly, during the feast 
 of the Thesmophoria,\ he made himself master of 
 the citadel, and seized Ismenias, and carried him 
 to Lacedaemon, where he was put to death soon 
 after. Pelopidas, Pherenicus, and Androclides, 
 with many others that fled, were sentenced to 
 banishment. But Epaminondas remained upon 
 the spot, being despised for his philosophy, as a 
 man who would not intermeddle with affairs, and 
 for his poverty, as a man of no power. 
 
 Though the Lacedaemonians took the commarid 
 of the army from Phoebidas, and fined him in 
 100.000 drachmas, yet they kept a garrison in the 
 Cadmea notwithstanding. All the rest of Greece 
 was surprised at this absurdity of theirs, in punish- 
 ing the actor, and yet authorising the action. As 
 for the Thebans, who had lost their ancient form 
 of government, and were brought into subjection 
 
 * During the whole Peloponnesian war, Sparta 
 found a very faithful ally in the Thebans: and 
 under the countenance of Sparta, the Thebans 
 recovered the government of Boeotia, of which 
 they had been deprived on account of their de- 
 fection to the Persians. However, at length 
 they grew so powerful and headstrong, that when 
 the peace of Antalcidas came to be subscribed to, 
 they refused to come into it, and \vere with no 
 small difficulty overawed and forced into it by the 
 confederates. We learn, indeed, from Polybius, 
 that though the Lacedaemonians, at that peace, 
 declared all the Grecian cities free, they did not 
 withdraw their garrison from any one o^hem. 
 
 t Phoebidas was marching against Ol^thus, 
 •w'hen Leontidas, or Leontiades, one of the two 
 polemarchs, betrayed to him the town and citadel 
 of Thebes. This happened xn the third year of 
 the ninety-ninth olympiad, 374 years before the 
 Christian era. , . , . r , • .i. 
 
 t The women were celebrating this feast m the 
 Cadmea. 
 
FELOPWA^,. 
 
 205 
 
 by Archias and Leontidas, there was no room for 
 them to hope to be delivered from the tyranny, 
 which was supported in such a manner by the 
 power of the Spartans that it could not be pulled 
 down, unless those Spartans could be deprived of 
 their dominion both by sea and land. 
 
 Nevertheless, Leontidas ha\dnggot intelligence 
 that the exiles were at Athens, and that they were 
 treated there with great regard by the people, and 
 no less respected by the nobility, formed secret 
 designs against their lives. For tl^ purpose he 
 employed certain unknovTi assassins, who took 
 off Androclides ; but all the rest escaped. Letters 
 were also sent to the Athenians from Sparta, 
 insisting that they should not harboiu* or en- 
 courage exiles, but drive them out as persons 
 declared by the confederates to be common 
 enemies ; but the Athenians, agreeable to their 
 usual and natural humanity, as well as in grati- 
 tude to the city of Thebes, w’ould not suffer the 
 least injury to be done to the exiles. For the 
 Thebans had greatly assisted in restoring the de- 
 mocracy at Athens, having made a decree that 
 if any Athenian should march armed through 
 Bceotia against the tyrants, he should not meet 
 with the least hindrance or molestation in that 
 country. . 
 
 Pelopidas, though he was one of the youngest,* 
 applied to each exile in particular, as well as 
 harangued them in a body ; urging, that it was 
 both dishonourable and impious to leave their 
 native city enslaved and garrisoned by an enemy ; 
 and, meanly contented with their own lives and 
 safety, to wait for the decrees of the Athenians, 
 and to make their com-t to the popular orators ■ 
 but that they ought to rim every hazard in so 
 glorious a cause, imitating the courage and 
 patriotism of Thrasybulus ; for as he advanced 
 from Thebes to crush the tyrants in Athens, so 
 should they march from Athens to deliver Thebes. 
 
 Thus persuaded to accept his proposal, they 
 sent privately to their friends who were left behind 
 in Thebes, to acquaint them with their resolution, 
 wLich was highly approved of ; and Charon, a 
 person of the first rank, offered his house for their 
 reception. Philidas found means to be appointed 
 secretary to Archias and Philip, who were then 
 Polerriarchs; and as ^r Epaminondas, he had 
 taken pains all along to inspire the youth wdth 
 sentiments of bravery. For he desired them in 
 the public exercises to try the Lacedaemonians' at 
 WTestling, and when he saw them elated with 
 success, he used to tell them, by way of reproof, 
 that they should rather be ashamed of their mean- 
 ness of spirit in remaining subject to those to 
 whom, in strength, they were so much superior. 
 
 A day being fixed for putting their design in 
 execution, it w^as agreed among the exiles, that 
 Pherenicus -with the rest should stay at Thriasium, 
 while a few of the youngest should attempt to get 
 entrance first into the city ; and that if these hap- 
 pened to be surprised by the enemy, the others 
 should take care to pro\nde for their children and 
 
 * Xenophon, in the account w’hich he gives of 
 this transaction, does not so much as mention 
 Pelopidas. His silence in this respect was pro- 
 bably owing to his partiality to his hero Agesilaus, 
 whose glory he might think would be eclipsed 
 by that of Pelopidas and his worthy colleague 
 Epaminondas : for of the latter, too, he speaks 
 very sparingly. 
 
 their parents. Pelopidas was the first that offered 
 to be of this party, and then Melon, Democlides, 
 and Theopompus, all men of noble blood, who 
 were united to each other by the most faithful 
 friendship, and who never had any contest but 
 which should be foremost in the race of glory and 
 valour. These adventurers, who were twelve in 
 number, having embraced those that stayed 
 behind, and sent a messenger before them to 
 Charon, set out in their imder garments, with 
 dogs and hunting poles, that none who met them 
 might have any suspicion of what they were 
 about, and that they might seem to be only hunters 
 beating about for game. 
 
 MTien their messenger came to Charon, and 
 acquainted him that they were on their way to 
 Thebes, the near approach of danger changed not 
 his resolution ; he behaved like a man of honour, 
 and made preparations to receive them. Hippos- 
 thenidas, who was also in the secret, was not by 
 any means an ill man, but rather a friend to his 
 coimtry and to the exiles; yet he wanted that 
 firmness which the present emergency and the 
 hazardous point of execution required. He grew 
 giddy, as it w^ere, at the thought of the great 
 danger they were about to plunge in, and at last 
 opened his eyes enough to see, that they were 
 attempting to shake the Lacedaemonian govern- 
 ment, and to free themselves from that power 
 without any other dependance than that of a few 
 indigent persons and exdes. He therefore went 
 to his own house without saying a word, and 
 despatched one of his friends to Melon and 
 Pelopidas, to desire them to defer their enter- 
 prise for the present, to return to Athens, and to 
 wait till a more favourable opportunity offered. 
 
 Chlidon, for that was the name of the man sent 
 upon this business, went home in all haste, took 
 his horse out of the stable, and called for the 
 bridle. His wnfe being at a loss, and not able to 
 find it, said she had lent it to a neighbour. Upon 
 this, words arose, and mutual reproaches followed ; 
 the woman venting bitter imprecations, and wish- 
 ing that the journey might be fatal both to him 
 and those that sent him. So that Chlidon, 
 ha\nng spent great part of the day in this squabble, 
 and looking upon what had happened as ominous, 
 laid aside all thoughts of the journey, and went 
 elsewhere. So near -was this great and glorious 
 undertaking to being disconcerted at the very 
 entrance. 
 
 Pelopidas and his company, now in the dress of 
 peasants, divided, and entered the town at 
 different quarters, whilst it was yet daj’. And, 
 as the cold weather was setting in,* there 
 happened to be a sharp wind and a shower of 
 snow, which concealed them the better, most 
 people retiring into their houses, to avoid the 
 inclemency of the weather. But those that were 
 concerned in the affair, received them as they 
 came, and conducted them immediately to 
 Charon’s house ; the exiles and others making up 
 the number of forty-eight. 
 
 As for the affairs of the t>*rants, they stood thus : 
 Philidas, their secretarj^ knew (as we said) the 
 whole design of the exiles, and omitted nothing 
 
 * The Spartans seized on the Cadmea about 
 the middle of summer, in the year already 
 mentioned, and it was^ taken from them in the 
 beginning of winter, in the first year of the 
 hundredth oi>Tnpiad. 
 
206 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 that might contribute to its success. He had 
 invited Archias and Philip some time before, to 
 an entertainment at his house on that day, and 
 promised to introduce to them some women, in 
 order that those who were to attack them, might 
 find them dissolved in wine and pleasure. They 
 had not yet drank very freely, when a report 
 reached them, which, though not false, seemed 
 uncertain and obscure, that the exiles were con- 
 cealed somewhere in the city. And though 
 Philidas endeavoured to turn the discourse, 
 Archias sent an officer to Charon, to command his 
 immediate attendance. By this time it was 
 grown dark, and Pelopidas and his companions 
 were preparing for action, having already put on 
 their breastplates and girt their swords, when 
 suddenly there was a knocking at the door; 
 whereupon one ran to it, and asked what the 
 person’s business was, and having learned from 
 the officer that he was sent by the Polemarchs to 
 fetch Charon, he brought in the news in great 
 confusion. They were unanimous in their opinion, 
 that the affair was discovered, and that every man 
 of them was lost, before they had performed any- 
 thing which became their valour. Nevertheless, 
 they thought it proper that Charon should obey 
 the order, and go boldly to the tyrants. Charon 
 was a man of great intrepidity and courage in 
 dangers that threatened only himself, but then he 
 was much affected on account of his friends, and 
 afraid that he should lie under some suspicion of 
 treachery, if so many brave citizens should perish. 
 Therefore, as he was ready to depart, he took his 
 son, who was yet a child, but of a beauty and 
 strength beyond those of his years, out of the 
 women’s apartment, and put him in the hands of 
 Pelopidas, desiring, that if he found him a traitor, 
 he v/culd treat that child as an enemy, and not 
 spare its life. Many of them shed tears, when 
 they saw the concern and magnanimity of Charon ; 
 and all expressed their uneasiness at his thinking 
 any of them so dastardly and so much discon- 
 certed with the present danger, as to be capable 
 of suspecting or blaming him in the least. They 
 begged of him, therefore, ^ not to leave his son 
 with them, but to remove him out of the reach of 
 what might possibly happen, to some place where, 
 safe from the tyrants, he might be brought up to 
 be an avenger of his country, and his friends. 
 But Charon refused to remove him, “For what 
 life,” said he, “ or what deliverance could I wish 
 him that would be more glorious than his falling 
 honourably with his father and so many of his 
 friends ? ” Then he addressed himself in prayer to 
 the gods, and having embraced and encouraged 
 them all, he went out ; endeavouring by the way 
 to compose himself, to form his countenance, and 
 to assume a tone of voice very different from the 
 real state of his mind. 
 
 When he was come to the door of the house, 
 Archias and Philidas went out to him and said, 
 “What persons are these, Charon, who, as we 
 are informed, are lately come into the town, and 
 are concealed and countenanced by some of the 
 citizens ? ” Charon was a little fluttered at first, 
 but soon recovering himself, he asked who these 
 persons they spoke of were, and by whom 
 harboured. And finding that Archias had no 
 clear account of the matter, concluded from 
 thence, that his information came not from any 
 person that was privy to the design, and therefore 
 said, “ Take care that you do not disturb your- 
 
 selves with vain rumours. However, 1 will make 
 the best inquiry I can ; for, perhaps, nothing of 
 this kind ought to be disregarded.” Philidas, 
 who was by, commended his prudence, and 
 conducting Archias in again, plied him strongly 
 y/ith liquor, and prolonged the carousal by keep- 
 ing up their expectation of the women. 
 
 When Charon was returned home, he found 
 his friends prepared, not to conquer or to pre- 
 serve their lives, but to sell them dear, and to 
 fall gloriously. He told Pelopidas the truth, but 
 concealed it from the rest, pretending that 
 Archias had discoursed with him about other 
 matters.* 
 
 The first storm was scarce blown over when 
 fortune raised a second. For there arrived an 
 express from Athens with a letter from Archias, 
 high priest there, to Archias his namesake and 
 particular friend, not filled v/ith vain and ground- 
 less surmises, but containing a clear narrative of 
 the whole affair, as was found afterwards. The 
 messenger ^ being admitted to Archias, now al- 
 most intoxicated, as he delivered the letter, said, 
 “ The person who sent this, desired that it might 
 be read immediately, for it contains business of 
 great importance.” But Archias receiving it said, 
 smiling, “ Business to-morrow.” Then he put it 
 under the bolster of his couch, and resumed the 
 conversation with Philidas. This saying, “ Busi- 
 ness to-morrow,” passed into a proverb, and con- 
 tinues so among the Greeks to this day. 
 
 ^ A good opportunity now offering for the execu- 
 tion of their purpose, the friends of liberty divided 
 themselves into two bodies, and sallied out. 
 Pelopidas and Democlidas went against Leontidas 
 and Hypates,f who were neighbours, and Charon 
 and Melon against Archias and Philip. Charon 
 and his company put women’s clothes over their 
 armour, and wore thick wreaths of pine and 
 poplar upon their heads to shadow their faces. 
 As soon as they came to the door of the room 
 v/here the guests were, the company shouted and 
 clapped their hands, believing them to be the 
 women whom they had so long expected. When 
 the pretended women had looked round the room, 
 and distinctly surveyed all the guests, they drew 
 their swords ; and making at Archias and Philip 
 across the table, they showed who they were. 
 A small part of the company were persuaded by 
 Philidas not to intermeddle : the rest engaged 
 in the combat, and stood up for the Pole77iarchs, 
 but, being disordered with wine, were easily 
 despatched. 
 
 Pelopidas and his party had a more difficult 
 affair of it. They had to do with Leontidas, a 
 sober and valiant man. They found the door 
 made fast, for he was gone to bed, and they 
 knocked a long time before anybody heard. At 
 last a servant perceived it, and came down and 
 removed the bar ; which he had no sooner done, 
 than they pushed open the door, and rushing in. 
 
 * There appears no necessity for this artince ; 
 and indeed Plutarch, in his treatise concerning 
 the genius of Socrates, says, that Charon came 
 back to the little band of patriots with a pleasant 
 countenance, and gave them all an account of 
 what had passed, without the least disguise. 
 
 t These were not invited to the entertainment, 
 because Archias expecting to meet a woman of 
 great distinction, did not choose that Leontidas 
 should be there. 
 
FELOFIDAS. 
 
 207 
 
 threw the man ddwn,'and ran to the bed-chamber. 
 Leontidas, conjecturing by the noise and tramp- 
 ling what the matter was, leaped from his bed 
 and seized his sword ; but he forgot to put out 
 the lamps, which had he done, it would have left 
 them to fall foul on each other in the dark. 
 Being, therefore, fully exposed to view, he met 
 them at the door, and with one stroke laid Cephi- 
 sodorus, who was the first man that attempted 
 to enter, dead at his feet. He encountered 
 Pelopidas next, and the narrowness of the door, 
 together with the dead body of Cephisodorus lying 
 in the way, made the dispute long and doubtful. 
 At last Pelopidas prevailed, and having slain 
 Leontidas, he ^ marched immediately with his 
 little band against H5rpates. They got into his 
 house in the same manner as they did into the 
 other : but he quickly perceived them, made his 
 escape into a neighbour’s house, whither, they 
 followed, and despatched him. 
 
 This affair being over, they joined Melon, and 
 sent for the exiles they had left in Attica. They 
 proclaimed liberty to all the Thebans,* * and armed 
 such as came over to them, taking down the spoils 
 that were suspended upon the porticoes, and the 
 arms out of the shops of the armourers and sword- 
 cutlers. Epaminondas t and Gorgidas came to 
 their assistance, with a considerable body of 
 young men and a select number of the old, whom 
 they had collected and armed. 
 
 The whole city was now in great terror and 
 confusion ; the houses were filled with lights, and 
 the streets with men, running to and fro. The 
 people, however, did not yet assemble ; but being 
 astonished at what had happened, and knowing 
 nothing with certainty, they waited with im- 
 patience for the day. It seems, therefore, to 
 have been a great error in the Spartan officers, 
 that they did not immediately sally out and fall 
 upon them ; for their garrison consisted of 1500 
 men, and they were joined besides by many 
 people from the city. But terrified at the shouts, 
 the lights, the hurry, and confusion that were on 
 every side, they contented themselves with pre- 
 serving the citadel. 
 
 As soon as it was day, the exiles from Attica 
 came in armed ; the people complied with the 
 summons to assemble ; and Epaminondas and 
 Gorgidas presented to them Pelopidas and his 
 party, surrounded by the priests, who carried 
 garlands in their hands, and called upon the 
 citizens to exert themselves for their gods and 
 their country. Excited by this appearance, the 
 whole assembly stood up, and received them with 
 great acclamations as their benefactors and 
 deliverers. 
 
 Pelopidas, then elected governor of Boeotia, 
 together with Melon and Charon, immediately 
 blocked up and attacked the citadel, hastening 
 to drive out the Lacedajmonians, and to recover 
 the Cadmea^X before succours could arrive from 
 
 , * Pelopidas also sent Philidas to all the gaols 
 m the city, to release those brave Thebans whom 
 the tyrannic Spartans kept in fetters. 
 
 t Epaminondas did not join them sooner, be- 
 cause he was afraid that too much innocent blood 
 would be shed with the guilty. 
 
 t As it is not probable that the regaining so 
 strong a place should be the work of a day, or 
 have been effected with so small a force as Pelo- 
 pidas then had, we must have recourse to Dio- 
 
 Sparta.^ And indeed he was but a little before- 
 hand with them ; for they had but just surren- 
 dered the place, and were returning home, accord- 
 ing to capitulation, when they met Cleombrotus 
 at Magara, marching towards Thebes with a great 
 army. The Spartans called to account the three 
 Harmostea, officers who had commanded in the 
 CadmeUj and signed the capitulation. Hermip- 
 pidas and Arcissus were executed for it, and the 
 third, named Dysaoridas, was so severely fined, 
 that he was forced to quit Peloponnesus.* 
 
 This action of Pelopidas f was called, by the 
 Greeks, sister to that of Thrasybulus, on account 
 of their near resemblance, not only in respect of 
 the great virtues of the men, and the difficulties 
 they had to combat, but the success with which 
 fortune crowned them. For it is not easy to find 
 another instance so remarkable, of the few over- 
 coming the ^ many, and the weak the strong, 
 merely by dint of courage and conduct, and pro- 
 curing by these means, such great advantages 
 to their country. ^ But the change of affairs which 
 followed upon this action rendered it still more 
 glorious. For the war which humbled the pride 
 of the Spartans, and deprived them of their 
 empire both by sea and land, took its rise from 
 that night, when Pelopidas, without taking town 
 or castle, but_ being only one out of twelve who 
 entered a private house, loosened and broke to 
 pieces (if we may express truth by a metaphor) 
 the chains of the Spartan government, until then 
 esteemed indissoluble. 
 
 The Lacedaemonians soon entering Boeotia with 
 a _ powerful army, the Athenians were struck 
 with terror ; and renouncing their alliance with 
 the Thebans, they took cognizance, in a judicial 
 way, of all that continued in the interest of that 
 people : some they put to death, some they 
 banished, and upon others they, laid heavy fines. 
 The Thebans being thus deserted by their allies, 
 their affairs seemed to be in a desperate situation. 
 But Pelopidas and Gorgidas, who then had the 
 command in Boeotia, sought means to embroil 
 the Athenians again with the Spartans ; and they 
 availed themselves of this stratagem. There was 
 a Spartan named Sphodrias, a man of great 
 reputation as a soldier, but of no sound judgment, 
 sanguine in his hopes, and indiscreet in his 
 ambition.^ This man was left with some troops 
 at Thespise, to receive and protect such of the 
 Boeotians as might come over to the Spartans. 
 To him Pelopidas privately sent a merchant in 
 whom he could confide, J well provided with 
 
 dorus Siculus and Xenophon, who tell us, that 
 the Athenians, early on the next morning, after 
 the seizing on the city, sent the Theban general 
 5000 foot and 2000 horse ; and that _ several other 
 bodies of troops came in from the cities of Boeotia, 
 to the number of above ^000 more ; that Pelopi- 
 das besieged the place in form with them, and 
 that it held out several days, and surrendered at 
 length for want of provisions. Diodor. Sicul. 
 lib. XV. Xenoph. 1. V. 
 
 * It was a maxim with the Spartans, to die 
 sword in hand, in defence of a place committed to 
 their care. 
 
 t M. Dacier gives a parallel between the con- 
 duct of this action, and that of the prince of 
 Monaco, in driving a Spanish garrison out of his 
 towrr. 
 
 J This is more probable than what Diodorus 
 
208 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 money, and with proposals that were more likely 
 to prevail than the money : That it became him 
 to undertake some noble enterprise — to surprise 
 the Piraeus, for instance, by falling suddenly upon 
 the Athenians, who were not provided to receive 
 him : for that nothing could be so agreeable to 
 the Spartans, as to be masters of Athens ; and 
 that the Thebans, now incensed against the 
 Athenians, and considering them as traitors, 
 would lend them no manner of assistance. 
 
 Sphodrias, suffering himself at last to be 
 persuaded, marched into Attica by night, and 
 advanced as far as Eleusis.* * There the hearts 
 of his soldiers began to fail, and finding his 
 design discovered, he returned to Thespise, after 
 he had thus brought upon the Lacedsemonians a 
 long and dangerous war. _ For upon this the 
 Athenians readily united with the Thebans ; and 
 having fitted out a large fleet, they sailed round 
 Greece, engaging and receiving such as were 
 inclined to shake off the Spartan yoke. 
 
 Meantime the Thebans, by themselves, fre- 
 quently came to action with the Lacedtemonians 
 in Boeotia, not in set battles, indeed, but in such 
 as were of considerable service and improvement 
 to them : for their spirits were raised, their 
 bodies inured to labour, and by being used to 
 these rencounters, they gained both experience 
 and courage. Hence it was, that Antalcidas the 
 Spartan said to Agesilaus, when he returned from 
 Boeotia wounded, “Truly you are well paid for 
 the instruction you have given the Thebans, and 
 for teaching them the art of war against their will.’' 
 Though, to speak properly, Agesilaus was not 
 their instructor, but those prudent generals who 
 made choice of fit opportunities to let loose the 
 Thebans, like so many young hounds, upon the 
 enemy ; and when they had tasted of victory, 
 satisfied with the ardour they had shown, brought 
 them off again safe. The chief honour of this 
 was due to Pelopidas. For from the time of his 
 being first chosen general, until his death, there 
 was not a year that he was out of employment, 
 but he was constantly either captain of the sacred 
 band, or governor of Boeotia. And while he was 
 employed, the Lacedsemonians were several times 
 defeated hy the Thebans, particularly at Platse, 
 and at Thespise, where Phoebidas, who had 
 surprised the Cadmea^ was killed ; and at 
 Tanagra, where Pelopidas beat a considerable 
 body, and slew, with his own hand, their general 
 Panthoides. 
 
 But these combats, though they served to 
 animate and encourage the victors, did not quite 
 dishearten the vanquished. For they were not 
 pitched battles, nor regular engagements, but 
 rather advantages gained of the enemy, by well- 
 timed skirmishes, in which the Thebans some- 
 times pursued, and sometimes retreated. 
 
 Siculus says ; namely, that Cleombrotus, without 
 any order from the Ephori^ persuaded Sphodrias 
 to surprise the Piraeus. 
 
 * They hoped to have reached the Piraeus in 
 the night, but found, when the day appeared, 
 that they were got no farther than Eleusis. 
 Sphodrias, perceiving that he was discovered, in 
 his return, plundered the Athenian territories. 
 The Lacedaemonians recalled Sphodrias, and the 
 Ephori proceeded against him ; but Agesilaus, 
 influenced by his son, who was a friend of the son 
 of Sphodrias, brought him off. 
 
 But the battle of Tegyrae, which was a sort of 
 prelude to that of Leuctra, lifted the character of 
 Pelopidas very high ; for none of the other com- 
 manders could lay claim to any share of the 
 honour of the day, nor had the enemy any pre- 
 text to cover the shame of their defeat. 
 
 He kept a strict eye upon the city of Orcho- 
 menus,* which had adopted the Spartan interest, 
 and received two companies of foot for its defence, 
 and watched for an opportunity to make himself 
 master of it. Being informed that the garrison 
 were gone upon an expedition into Locris, he 
 hoped to take the town with ease, now it was 
 destitute of soldiers, and therefore hastened 
 thither with the sacred band '2indL a small party of 
 horse. But finding when he was near the town, 
 that other troops were coming from Sparta to 
 supply the place of those that were marched out, 
 he led his forces back again by Tegyrse, along 
 the sides of the mountains, which was the only 
 way he could pass : for all the flat country was 
 overflowed by the river Melas, which, from its 
 very source, spreading itself into marshes, and 
 navigable pieces of water, made the lower roads 
 impracticable. 
 
 A little below these marshes, stands the temple 
 of Apollo Tegyrceus, whose oracle there has not 
 been long silent. It flourished most in the 
 Persian wars, while Echerates was high-priest. 
 Here they report that Apollo was born ; and at 
 the foot of the neighbouring mountain called 
 Delos, the Melas returns into its channel. Behind 
 the temple rise two copious springs, whose waters 
 are admirable for their coolness and agreeable 
 taste. The one is called Palm, and the other 
 Olive, to this day ; so that Latona seems to have 
 been delivered, not between two trees, but two 
 fountains of that name. Ptoum too, is just by, 
 from whence, it is said, a boar suddenly rushed 
 out and frighted her ; and the stories of Python 
 and Tityus, the scene of which lies here, agree 
 with their opinion who say, Apollo was born in 
 this place. The other proofs of this matter I 
 omit. For tradition does not reckon this deity 
 among those who were born mortal, and after- 
 wards were changed into demigods; of which 
 number were Hercules and Bacchus, who by 
 their virtues were raised from a frail and perish- 
 able being to immortality : but he is one of those 
 eternal deities who were never born, if we. may 
 give credit to those ancient sages that have 
 treated of these high points. 
 
 The Thebans then retreating from Orchomenus 
 towards Tegyrse, the Lacedsemonians who were 
 returning from Locris met them on the road. 
 As soon as they were perceived to be passing the 
 straits, one ran and told Pelopidas, “We are 
 fallen into the enemy’s hands.” “And why not 
 they,” said he, “ into ours?” At the same time 
 he ordered the cavalry to advance from the rear 
 to the front, that they might be ready for the 
 attack ; and the infantry, who were but 3oo,-}' he 
 
 * This was one of the largest^ and rnost con- 
 siderable towns in Boeotia, and still garrisoned by 
 the Lacedsemonians. 
 
 t This small body was, however, _ the very 
 flower of the Theban army, and was dignified by 
 the names of the sacred battalion and the band 
 of lovers (as mentioned below), being equally 
 famed for their fidelity to the Theban state, and 
 affection for each other. Some fabulous things 
 
PELOFIDAS. 
 
 drew up in a close body ; hoping that, wherever 
 they charged, they would break through the 
 enemy, though superior in numbers. 
 
 The Spartans had two^ battalions. Ephorus 
 says, their battalion consisted of 500 men, but 
 Callisthenes makes it 700, and Polybius and 
 others 900. Their Pole7uarchs^ Gorgoleon and 
 Theopompus, pushed boldly on against the The- 
 i^ns. The shock began in the quarter where 
 the generals fought in person on both sides, 
 and was very violent and furious. The Spartan 
 commanders, who attacked Pelop das, were among 
 the first that were slain ; and all that were near 
 them being either killed or put to flight th^ 
 whole army was so terrified, that they opened 
 a lane for the Thebans, through which they might 
 have passed safely, and continued their route if 
 they had pleased. But Pelopidas disdaining to 
 make his escape so, charged those who yet stood 
 tneir ^ound, and made such havoc among them, 
 that they fled in great confusion. The pursuit 
 was not continued very far, for the Thebans were 
 afraid of the Orchomenians who were near the 
 place of battle, and of the forces just arrived from 
 Lacedaemon. They were satisfied with beating 
 them in fair combat, and making their retreat 
 through a dispersed and defeated army. 
 
 Having, therefore, erected a trophy, and 
 gathered the spoils of the slain, they returned 
 home not a little elated. For it seems that in 
 all ^keir former wars, both with the Greeks and 
 barbarians, the Lacedaemonians had never been 
 beaten, the greater number by the less, nor even 
 by equal numbers, in a pitched battle. Thus 
 their courage seemed irresistible, and their renown 
 so much intimidated their adversaries, that they 
 did not care to hazard an engasrement with them 
 on equal terms. This battle first taught the 
 Greeks, that it is not the Eurotas, nor the space 
 betwe<m Babyce and Cnacion, which alone pro- 
 duces brave warriors, but wherever the youth are 
 ashamed of what is base, resolute in a good 
 cause, and more inclined to avoid disgrace than 
 (mnger, there are the men who are terrible to 
 their enemies. 
 
 Gorgidas as some say, first formed the sacred 
 band, consisting of 300 select men, who were 
 quartered in the Cad7nea, and maintained and 
 exercised at^ the public expense. They were 
 called the band^ for citadels in those days 
 were called cities. 
 
 „ * . * * 
 
 But Gorgidas, by disposing those that belonged 
 to this sacred band here and there in the first 
 ranks, and covering the front of his infantry with 
 them, gave them but little opportunity to dis- 
 tinguish themselves, or effectually to serve the 
 common cause ; thus divided as they were, and 
 mi^xed with other troops more in number and of 
 inienor resolution. But when their valour ap- 
 peared with so much lustre at Tegyrse, where 
 they fought together, and close to the person of 
 their general, Pelopid as would never part them 
 
 are related of them, from which we can only 
 inter, that they were a brave resolute set of youn 2 
 men, who had vowed perpetual friendship to each 
 other, and had bound themselves, by-the strongest 
 ^ by one another to the last drop of 
 their blood ; and were therefore the fittest to be 
 employed in such private and dangerous expe- 
 
 209 
 
 afterwards, but kept them in a body, and con- 
 stantly charged at the head of them in the most 
 dangerous attack. F or as horses go. faster when 
 harnessed together m a chariot, than they do 
 when driven single, not because their united force 
 more easily breaks the air, but because their 
 spirits are raised higher by emulation; so he 
 thought the courage of brave men would be most 
 irresistible, when they were acting together and 
 contending with each other which should most 
 
 But when the Lacedemonians had made peace 
 with the rest of the Greeks, and continued the 
 war against the Thebans only, and when king 
 Gieombrotus had entered their country with 
 10,000 foot and 1000 horse, they were not only 
 threatened with the common dangers of war as 
 before, but even with total extirpation ; which 
 spread the utmost terror over all Bceotia. As 
 Pelopidas, on this occasion, was departing for the 
 army, his wife, who followed him to the door 
 besought him, with tears, to take care of himself! 
 he answered, “ My dear, private persons are to 
 be advised to take care of themselves, but persons 
 in a public character to take care of others.” 
 
 When he came to the army, and found the 
 general officers differing in opinion, he was the 
 fiist to close in with that of Epaminondas, who 
 ^oposed that they should give the enemy battle. 
 He was not, indeed, then one of those that com- 
 manded in chief, but he was captain of the sacred 
 they had that confidence in him, 
 which was due to a man who had given his 
 country such pledges of his regard for liberty. 
 
 Ihe resolution thus taken to hazard a battle, 
 and the two armies in sight at Leuctra, Pelopidas 
 had a dream which gave him no small trouble. 
 In that field he the bodies of the daughters of 
 ocedasus, who are called Leuctridce from the 
 ^ rape having been committed upon 
 them by some Spartans whom they had hospitably 
 received into their house, they had killed them- 
 selves, and were buried there. Upon this, their 
 lather went to Lacedsmon, and demanded that 
 justice should be done upon the persons who had 
 committed so detestable and atrocious a crime * 
 and, as he could not obtain it, he vented bitter 
 imprecations against the Spartans, and then killed 
 himself upon the tomb of his daughters. From 
 that time many prophecies and oracles forewarned 
 the Spartans to beware of the vengeance of Leuc- 
 tra : the true intent of which but few understood • 
 for they were in doubt as to the place that was 
 meant, there being a little maritime town called 
 Leuctrum, in Laconia, and another of the same 
 name near Megalopolis in Arcadia. Besides 
 that injury was done to the daughters of Scedasus 
 long before the battle of Leuctra. 
 
 Pelopidas, then, as he slept in his tent, thought 
 he saw these young women weeping at their 
 tombs, and loading the Spartans with impreca- 
 tions, while their father ordered him to sacrifice 
 a red-haired young virgin to the damsels, if he 
 desired to be victorious in the ensuing engage- 
 ment. This order appearing to him cruel and 
 unjust, he rose and communicated it to the sooth- 
 sayers and the generals. Some were of opinion, 
 that it should not be neglected or disobeyed, 
 alleging to the purpose the ancient stories of 
 MencEceus the son of Creon,* and Macaria the 
 
 * Menoeceus devoted himself to death for the 
 
 P 
 
210 PL UTARCH 'S LIVES. 
 
 daughter of Hercules ; and the more modern 
 instances of Pherecydes the philosopher, who was 
 put to death by the Lacedaemonians, and whose 
 skin was preserved by their kings, pursuant to 
 the direction of some oracle ; of Leonidas, who, 
 by order of the oracle too. sacrificed himself, 
 as It were, for the sake of Greece ; and lastlj^ 
 of the human victims offered by Themistocles to 
 Bacchus-Omestes, before the sea-fight at Salamis : 
 to all which sacrifices the ensuing success gave 
 a sanction. They observed also, that Agesilaus 
 setting sail from the same place that Agamemnon 
 did, and against the same enemies, and seeing 
 moreover, at Aulis, the same vision of the god- 
 dess* demanding his daughter in sacrifice, through 
 an ill-timed tenderness for his child refused it ; 
 the consequence of which was, that his expedition 
 proved unsuccessful. 
 
 Those that were of the contrary opinion, argued, 
 that so barbarous and unjust an offering could 
 not possibly be acceptable to any superior being ; 
 that no Typhous or giants, but the father of gods 
 and men, governed the world : that it was absurd 
 to suppose that the gods delighted in human 
 sacrifices ; and, that if any of them did, they 
 ought to be disregarded as impotent beings, since 
 such strange and corrupt desires could not exist 
 but in weak and vicious minds. 
 
 While the principal officers were engaged on 
 this subject, and Pelopidas was more perplexed 
 than all the rest, on a sudden a she-colt quitted 
 the herd, and ran through the camp ; and when 
 she came to the place where they were assembled, 
 she stood still. The officers, for their part, only 
 admired her colour, which was a shining red, the 
 stateliness of her form, the vigour of her motions, 
 and the sprightliness of her neighings ; but Theo- 
 critus, the diviner, understanding the thing better, 
 cried out to Pelopidas, “ Here comes the victim, 
 fortunate man that thou art ! wait for no other 
 virgin, but sacrifice that which heaven hath sent 
 thee.” They then took the colt, and led her to 
 the tomb of the virgins, where, after the usual 
 prayers and the ceremony of crowning her, they 
 offered her up with joy, not forgetting to publish 
 the vision of Pelopidas, and the sacrifice required, 
 to the whole army. 
 
 The day of battle being come, Epaminondas 
 drew up the infantry of his left wing in an oblique 
 form, that the right wing of the Spartans being 
 obliged to divide from the other Greeks, he might 
 fall with all his force upon Cleombrotus, who 
 commanded them, and break them with the 
 greater ease. But the enemy, perceiving his 
 intention, began to change their order of battle, 
 and to extend their right wing and wheel about, 
 
 benefit of his country; as did also Macaria for 
 the benefit of the Heraclidse. For an account of 
 the former, see the Phoenissa^ and for the latter, 
 the HeraclidcB of Euripides. 
 
 * Xenophon, in the seventh book of his Grecian 
 history, acquaints us, that Pelopidas, when he 
 went upon an embassy to the king of Persia, 
 represented to him, that the hatred which the 
 Lacedaemonians bore the Thebans, was owing to 
 their not following Agesilaus w'hen he went to 
 make war upon Persia, and to their hindering 
 him from sacrificing his daughter at Aulis when 
 Diana demanded her ; a compliance with which 
 demand would have insured his success ; such, at 
 least, was the doctrine of the heathen theology. 
 
 with a design to surround Epaminondas. In the. 
 mean time, Pelopidas came briskly up with his 
 band of 300 ; and before Cleombrotus could ex- 
 tend his wing as he desired, or reduce it to its 
 former disposition, fell upon the Spartans, dis- 
 ordered as they were with the imperfect move- 
 ment. And though the Spartans, who were 
 excellent masters in the art of war, laboured 
 no point so much as to keep their men from con- 
 fusion and from dispersing when their ranks hap- 
 pened to be broken ; insomuch that the private 
 men were as able as the officers to knit again and 
 to make a united effort, wherever any occasion of 
 danger required : yet Epaminondas then attack- 
 ing their right wing onl3’’, without stopping to 
 contend with the other troops, and Pelopidas, 
 rushing upon them with incredible speed and 
 bravery, broke their resolution and baffled their 
 art. The consequence was such a rout and 
 slaughter as had never been known before.* For 
 this reason, Pelopidas, who had no share in the 
 chief command, but was only captain of a small 
 band, gained as much honour by this day’s great 
 success as Epaminondas, who was governor of 
 Boeotia and commander of the whole army. 
 
 But soon after, they were appointed joint 
 governors of Boeotia, and entered Peloponnesus 
 together, where they caused several cities to re- 
 volt from the Lacedaemonians, and brought over 
 to the Theban interest Elis, Argos, all Arcadia, 
 and great part of Laconia itself. It was now the 
 winter solstice, and the latter end of the last 
 month in the year, so that they could hold their 
 office but a few days longer : for new governors 
 were to succeed on the first day of the next month, 
 and the old ones to deliver up their charge under 
 pain of death. 
 
 The rest of their colleagues, afraid of the law, 
 and disliking a winter campaign, were for march- 
 ing home without loss of time : but Pelopidas 
 joining with Epaminondas to oppose it, encour- 
 aged his fellow-citizens, who led them against 
 Sparta. Having passed the Eurotas, they took 
 many of the Lacedaemonian towns, and ravaged 
 all the country to the very sea, with an army of 
 70,000 Greeks, of v/hich the Thebans did not 
 make the twelfth part. But the character of 
 those two great men, without any public order 
 or decree, made all the allies follow with silent 
 approbation, wherever they led- For the first 
 and supreme law, that of nature, seems to direct 
 
 * The Theban army consisted, at most, but of 
 6000 men, whereas that of the enemy was, at 
 least, thrice that number, reckoning the allies. 
 But Epaminondas trusted most in his cavalry, 
 wherein he had much the advantage, both in 
 their quality and good management ; the rest he 
 endeavoured to supply by the disposition of his 
 men, who were drawn up fifty deep, whereas the 
 Spartans were but twelve. When the Thebans 
 had gained the victory, and killed Cleombrotus, 
 the Spartans renewed the fight to recover the 
 king’s body; and in this the Theban general 
 wisely chose to gratify them, rather than to 
 hazard the success of a second onset. The allies 
 of the Spartans behaved ill in this battle, because 
 they came to it with an expectation to conquer 
 without fighting; as for the Thebans, they had 
 no allies at this time. This battle was fought 
 in the year before Christ 371. Diod. Sicul. 1 . xv. 
 Xenoph. Hellan. 1 . vi. 
 
PELOFIDAS. 
 
 those that have need of protection, to take him 
 for their chief who is most able to protect them. 
 And as passengers, though, in fine weather, or 
 in port, they may behave insolently, and brave 
 the pilots, yet, as soon as a storm arises and dan- 
 ger appears, fix their eyes on them, and rely 
 wholly on their skill ; so the Argives, the Eleaus, 
 and the j!^cadians, in the bent of their councils 
 were against the Thebans, and contended with 
 them for superiority of command ; but when the 
 time of action came, and danger pressed hard, 
 they followed the Theban generals of their own 
 accord, and submitted to their orders. 
 
 In this expedition they united all Arcadia into 
 one body, drove out the Spartans w’ho had settled 
 in ^lessenia, and called home its ancient inhabi- 
 tants; they likewise repeopled Ithome. And in 
 their return through Centhrea, they defeated the 
 Athenians,* who had attacked them in the straits, 
 wdth a design to hinder their passage. 
 
 After such achievements, all the other Greeks 
 Avere charmed with their valour, and admired 
 their good fortune : but the enA^’^ of their felloAv- 
 citi2ens, Avhich grew up together Avith their glor^’-, 
 prepared for them a ve^ unkind and unsuitable 
 reception. For at their return the^’- w’ere both 
 capitally tried, for not delivering up their charge, 
 according to laAv, in the first month which they 
 c^\\ Boucatzo7i, but holding it four months longer ; 
 during which time they performed those great 
 actions in Messenia, Arcadia, and Laconia. 
 
 Pelopidas Avas tried first, and therefore was in 
 most danger : hoAveA'er, they Avere both acquitted. 
 Epaminondas bore the accusation and attempts of 
 malignity Avith great patience, for he considered 
 it as no small instance of fortitude and mag- 
 nanimity not to resent the injuries done by his 
 felloAA'-citizens : but Pelopidas, Avho was natin-ally 
 of a w^armer temper, and excited by his friends to 
 reA’enge himself, laid hold on this occasion. 
 
 hleneclidas, the orator, was one of those who 
 naet upon the great enterprise in Charon’s house. 
 This man finding himself not held in the same 
 honour Avith the rest of the deli\^erers of their 
 countr}’-, and being a good speaker, though of bad 
 principles and a maleA'olent disposition, indulged 
 his natural turn, in accusing and calumniating his 
 superiors ; and this he continued to do A\uth res- 
 pect to Epaminondas and Pelopidas, eA*en after 
 judgment was passed in their favoiu*. He pre- 
 vailed so far as to depriA’-e Epaminondas of the 
 gOA'emment of Boeotia, and managed a party 
 against him a long time with success : but his 
 insinuations against Pelopidas Avere not listened 
 to by the people, and therefore he endeavoured to 
 embroil him Avith Charon. It is the common con- 
 solation of envy, Avhen a man cannot maintain the 
 higher ground himself, to represent those he is 
 excelled by as inferior to some others. Hence it 
 AA'as, that Meneclidas was ev^er extolling the actions 
 of Charon to the people, and lavishing encomiums 
 upon his expeditions and victories. Above all, he 
 magnified his success in a battle fought by the 
 cav'alry under his command at Platsea, a little be- 
 fore the battle of Leuctra, and endeavoured to per- 
 petuate the memory of it by some public monument. 
 
 * This happened to the Athenians through the 
 errors of their general Iphicrates, who, though 
 otherwise an able man, forgot the pass of Cen- 
 chrea, Avhile he placed his troops in posts less 
 commodious. 
 
 The occasion he took was this. Androcides of 
 Cyzicum had agreed with the Thebans for a 
 picture of some other battle, w^hich piece he 
 worked at in the city of Thebes. But upon the 
 revolt, and the w^ar that ensued, he Avas obliged 
 to quit that city, and leave the painting, which 
 was almost finished, Avith the Thebans. Mene- 
 clidas endeavoured to persuade the people to 
 hang up this piece in one of their temples, Avith 
 an inscription signifying that it was one of 
 Charon's battles, in order to cast a shade upon 
 the glory of Pelopidas and Epaminondas. Cer- 
 tainly the proposal was vain and absurd to prefer 
 one single engagement,* in which there fell only 
 Gerandas, a Spartan of no note, with forty others, 
 to so many and such important victories. Pelo- 
 pidas, therefore, opposed this motion, insisting 
 that it was contrary to the laws and usages of the 
 Thebans, to ascribe the honour of a victory to 
 any one man in particular, and that their country 
 ought to have the glory of it entire. As for 
 Charon, he Av-as liberal in his praises of him 
 through his whole harangue, but he showed that 
 INIeneclidas w^as an envious and malicious map : 
 and he often asked the Thebans, if they had 
 never before done an^nhing that Avas great and 
 excellent. Hereupon a heavy fine Av-as laid upon 
 hleneclidas ; and, as he was not able to pay it, he 
 endeavoured aftenvards to distirrb and OA^ertum 
 the goA-ernment. Such particulars as these, 
 though small, serve to give an insight into the 
 liA^es and characters of men. 
 
 At that time Alexander,! the tj-rant of Pherse, 
 making open war against several cities of Thessaly, 
 and entertaining a secret design to bring the 
 whole country into subjection, the Thessalians 
 sent ambassadors to Thebes to beg the faA’^om* of 
 a general and some troops. Pelopidas seeing 
 Epaminondas engaged in settling the afiairs of 
 Peloponnesus, ofered himself to command in 
 Thessaly, for he w'as unAvilling that his military 
 talents and skill should lie useless, and AV'ell satis- 
 fied withal, that wherever Epaminondas w'as, 
 there Avas no need of any other general He 
 therefore marched with his forces into Thessaly, 
 Avhere he soon recovered Larissa ; and, as Alex- 
 ander came and made submission, he endeavoured 
 to soften and humanize him, and, instead of a 
 tyrant, to render him a just and good prince. 
 But finding him incorrigible and brutal, and re- 
 ceiv'^ing firesh complaints of his cruelty, his un- 
 bridled lust, and insatiable avarice, he thought it 
 necessary to treat him with some severity ; upon 
 which, he made his escape with his guards. 
 
 Having now seemed the Thess^ans against 
 the tenant, and left them in a good understanding 
 among themselv^es, he advanced into Macedonia. X 
 
 * Xenophon speaks slightly of Charon : he 
 says, “The exiles w'ent to the house of 07ie 
 Charon.” 
 
 -}* He had lately poisoned his uncle Polyphron, 
 mid set himself up tyrant in his stead. Polyphron, 
 indeed, had killed his oaati brother Polydore, the 
 ■father of Ale.xander. All these, with Jason, who 
 w'as of the same family, Avere usurpers in Thessaly, 
 Avhich before was a free state. 
 
 I Am>mtas II. left three legitimate children, 
 Alexander, Perdiccas, and Philip, and one natural 
 son, whose name Avas Ptolemy. This last made 
 war against Alexander, slew him treacherously, 
 and reigned three years. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 Ptolemy had commenced hostilities against Alex- 
 ander, king of that country, and they both had 
 sent for Pelopidas to be an arbitrator of their 
 differences, and an assistant to him who should 
 appear to be injured. Accordingly he went and 
 decided their disputes, recalled such of the Mace- 
 donians as had been banished, and taking Philip, 
 the king’s brother, and thirty young men of the 
 best families as host?.ges, he brought them to 
 Thebes ; that he might show the Greeks to what 
 height the Theban commonwealth was risen by 
 the reputation of its arms, and the confidence 
 that was placed in its justice and probity.* 
 
 This was that Philip who afterwards made war 
 upon Greece to conquer and enslave it. He was 
 now a boy, and brought up at Thebes, in the 
 house of Pammenes. Hence he was believed to 
 have proposed Epaminondas for his pattern ; and 
 perhaps he was attentive to that great man’s 
 activity and happy conduct in war, which was in 
 truth the most inconsiderable part of his character : 
 as for his temperance, his justice, his magna- 
 nimity, and mildness, which really constituted 
 Epaminondas the great man, Philip had no share 
 of them, either natural or acquired. 
 
 After this, the Thessalians complaining again, 
 that Alexander of Pherae disturbed their peace, 
 and formed designs upon their cities, Pelopidas 
 and Ismenias were deputed to attend them. But 
 having no expectation of a war, Pelopidas had 
 brought no troops with him, and therefore the 
 urgency of the occasion obliged him to make use 
 of the Thessalian forces. 
 
 At the same time there were fresh commotions 
 in Macedonia ; for Ptolemy had killed the king 
 and assumed the sovereignty. Pelopidas, who 
 was called in by the friends of the deceased, was 
 desirous to undertake the cause ; but, having no 
 troops of his own, he hastily raised some merce- 
 naries, and marched with them immediately 
 against Ptolemy. Upon their approach, Ptolemy, 
 bribed the mercenaries, and brought them over to 
 his side : yet, dreading the very name and repu- 
 tation of Pelopidas, he went to pay his respects to 
 him as his superior, endeavoured to pacify him 
 with entreaties, and solemnly promised to keep 
 the kingdom for the brothers of the dead king, 
 and to regard the enemies and friends of the 
 Thebans as his own. For the performance of 
 these conditions he delivered to him his son 
 Philoxenus and fifty of his companions, as 
 hostages. These Pelopidas sent to Thebes. But 
 being incensed at the treachery of the mercenaries, 
 and having intelligence that they had lodged the 
 best part of their effects, together with their wives 
 and children, in Pharsalus, he thought by taking 
 these he might sufficiently revenge the affront. 
 Hereupon he assembled some Thessalian troops, 
 and marched against the town. He was no sooner 
 arrived, than Alexander the tyrant appeared before 
 it with his army. Pelopidas concluding that he 
 was come to make apology for his conduct, went 
 to him with Ismenias. Not that he was ignorant 
 what an abandoned and sanguinary man he had 
 to deal with, but he imagined that the dignity of 
 Thebes and his own character would protect him 
 
 * About this time the cause of liberty was in a 
 great measure deserted by the other Grecian 
 states. Thebes was now the only commonwealth 
 that retained any remains of patriotism and con- 
 cern for the injured and oppressed. 
 
 from violence. The tyrant, however, -vyhen he 
 saw them alone and unarmed, immediately seized 
 their persons, and possessed himself of Pharsalus. 
 This struck all his subjects with terror and as- 
 tonishment : for they were persuaded, that, after 
 such a flagrant act of injustice, he would spare 
 nobody, but behave on all occasions, and to all 
 persons, like a man that had desperately thrown 
 off all regard to his own life and safety. 
 
 When the Thebans were informed of this out- 
 rage, they were filled with indignation, and gave 
 orders to their army to march directly into 
 Thessaly ; but Epaminondas then happening to 
 lie under their displeasure,* they appointed other 
 generals. 
 
 As for Pelopidas, the tyrant took him to Pherse, 
 where at first he did not deny any one access to 
 him, imagining that he was greatly humbled by 
 his misfortune. But Pelopidas, seeing the Phe- 
 raeans overwhelmed with sorrow, bade them be 
 comforted, because now vengeance was ready to 
 fall upon the tyrant ; and sent to tell him, that he 
 acted very absurdly in daily torturing and putting 
 to death so many of his innocent subjects, and in 
 the mean time sparing him^ who, he might know, 
 was determined to punish him when once out of 
 his hands. The tyrant, surprised at his magna- 
 nimity and unconcern, made answer, “ Why is 
 Pelopidas in such haste to die?” \^ich being 
 reported to Pelopidas, he replied, “It is that 
 thou, being more hated by the gods than ever, 
 mayest the sooner come to a miserable end. ” 
 
 From that time Alexander allowed access to 
 none but his keepers. Thebe, however, the 
 daughter of Jason, who was wife to the tyrant, 
 having an account from those keepers of his 
 noble and intrepid behaviour, had a desire to see 
 him, and to have some discourse with him. 
 When she came into the prison, she could not 
 presently distinguish the majestic turn of his 
 person amidst such an appearance of distress ; 
 yet supposing from the disorder of his hair, and 
 the meanness of his attire and provisions, that he 
 was treated unworthily, she wept. Pelopidas, 
 who knew not his visitor, was much surprised ; 
 but when he understood her quality, addressed 
 her by her father’s name, with whom he had been 
 intimately acquainted. And upon her saying, “ I 
 pity your wife,” he replied, “ And I pity you, 
 who, wearing no fetters, can endure Alexander.” 
 This affected her nearly ; for she hated the 
 cruelty and insolence of the tyrant, who to his 
 other debaucheries added that of abusing her 
 youngest brother. In consequence of this, and 
 by frequent interviews with Pelopidas, to whom 
 she communicated her sufferings, she conceived a 
 still stronger resentment and aversion for her 
 husband. 
 
 The Theban generals, who had entered Thessal}’- 
 without doing anything, and either through their 
 incapacity or ill fortune, returned with disgrace, 
 the city of Thebes fined each of them 10,000 
 
 * They were displeased at him, because in a 
 late battle fought with the Lacedaemonians near 
 Corinth, he did not as they thought pursue his 
 advantage to the utmost, and put more of the 
 enemy to the sword. Hereupon they removed 
 him from the government of Boeotia, and sent 
 him along with their forces as a private person. 
 Such acts of ingratitude towards great and ex- 
 cellent men are common in popular governments. 
 
PELOPIDAS. 213 
 
 drachmas, and gave Epaminondas the command 
 of the army that was to act in Thessaly. 
 
 The reputation of the new general gave the 
 Thessalians fresh spirits, and occasioned such 
 great insurrections among them, that the tyrant’s 
 affairs seemed to be in a very desperate condition ; 
 so great was the terror that fell upon his officers 
 and friends, so forward were his subjects to revolt, 
 and so universal was the joy of the prospect of 
 seeing him punished. 
 
 Epaminondas, however, preferred the safety*of 
 Pelopidas to his own fame ; and fearing, if he 
 carried matters to an extremity at first, that the 
 tyrant might grow desperate, and destroy his 
 prisoner, he protracted the war. By fetching a 
 compass, as if to finish his preparations, he kept 
 Alexander in suspense, and managed him so as 
 neither to moderate his violence and pride, nor 
 yet to increase his fierceness and cruelty. For he 
 knew his savage disposition, and the little regard 
 he paid to reason or justice ; that he buried some 
 persons alive, and dressed others in the skins of 
 bears and wild boars, and then, by way of diver- 
 sion, baited them with dogs, or despatched them 
 with darts : that having summoned the people of 
 hleliboea and Scotusa, towns in friendship and 
 alliance with him, to meet him in full assembly, 
 he surrounded them with guards, and with all 
 the wantonness of cruelty put them to the sword : 
 and that he consecrated the spear with which he 
 slew his uncle Polyphron, and having crowned it 
 with garlands, offered sacrifice to it, as to a god, 
 and gave it the name of Tychon. Yet upon seeing 
 a tragedian act the Troades of Euripides, he 
 went hastily out of the theatre, and at the same 
 time sent a message. to the actor, not^ to be dis- 
 couraged, but to exert all his skill in his part ; for 
 it was not out of any dislike that he went out, but 
 he was ashamed that his citizens should see him, 
 v/ho never pitied those he put to death, weep at 
 the sufferings of Hecuba and Andromache. 
 
 This execrable tyrant was terrified at the very 
 name and character of Epaminondas — 
 
 And dropped the craven wing. 
 
 He sent an embassy in all haste to offer satis- 
 faction, but that general did not vouchsafe to 
 admit such a man into alliance with the Thebans ; 
 he only granted him a truce of thirty days, and 
 having recovered Pelopidas and I smenias out of 
 his hands, he marched back again with his army. 
 
 Soon after this the Thebans having discovered 
 that the Lacedaemonians and Athenians had sent 
 ambassadors to the king of Persia, to draw him 
 into league with them, sent Pelopidas on their 
 part ; whose established reputation amply justified 
 their choice. For he had no sooner entered the 
 king’s dominions than he was universally known 
 and honoured : the fame of his battles with the 
 Lacedaemonians had spread itself through Asia ; 
 and, after his victory at Leuctra, the report of 
 new successes continually following, had extended 
 his renown to the most distant proHnces. So 
 that when he arrived at the king’s court, and 
 appeared before the nobles and great officers that 
 waited there, he was the object of universal ad- 
 miration ; “This,” said they, “is the man who 
 deprived the Lacedaemonians of the empire both 
 of sea and land, and confined Sparta within the 
 bounds of Tygetus and Eurotas ; that Sparta, 
 which a little before, under the conduct of 
 Agesilaus, made war against the great king, and 
 
 shook the realms of Susa and Ecbatana.*’ On 
 the same account Artaxerxes rejoiced to see 
 Pelopidas, and loaded him with honours. But 
 when he heard him converse in terms that were 
 stronger than those of the Athenians, and plainer 
 than those of the Spartans, he admired him still 
 more ; and, as kings seldom conceal their inclina- 
 tions, he made no secret of his attachment to him, 
 but let the other ambassadors see the distinction 
 in which he held him. It is true, that of ail the 
 Greeks he seemed to have done Antalcidas the 
 Spartan the greatest honour,* when he took the 
 garland which he wore at table from his head, 
 dipped it in perfumes, and sent it him. But 
 though he did not treat Pelopidas with that 
 familiarity, yet he made him the richest and 
 most magnificent presents, and fully granted his 
 demands ; which were, that all the Greeks should 
 be free and independent ; that Messene should be 
 repeopled *, and that the Thebans should be 
 reckoned the king’s hereditary friends. 
 
 With this answer he returned, but without 
 accepting any of the king’s presents, except some 
 tokens of his favour and regard : a circumstance 
 that reflected no small dishonour upon the other 
 ambassadors. The Athenians condemned and 
 executed Timagoras, and justly too, if it was on 
 account of the many presents he received : for he 
 accepted not only gold and silver, but a magnifi- 
 cent bed, and servants to make it, as if that was 
 an art which the Greeks were not skilled in. He 
 received also fourscore cows, and herdsmen to 
 take care of them, as if he wanted their milk for 
 his health ; and, at last, he suffered himself to be 
 carried in a litter as far as the sea-coast at the 
 king’s expense, wjio paid four talents for his con- 
 veyance : but his receiving of presents does not 
 seem to have been the principal thing that incensed 
 the Athenians. For when Epicrates, the armour- 
 bearer, acknowledged in full assembly, that he 
 had received the king’s presents, and talked of 
 proposing a decree, that, instead of choosing nine 
 archons every year, nine of the poorest citizens 
 should be sent ambassadors to the king, that by 
 his gifts they might be raised to affluence, the 
 people only laughed at the motion. What ex- 
 asperated the Athenians most, was, that the 
 Thebans had obtained of the king all they asked ; 
 they did not consider how much the character of 
 Pelopidas outweighed the address of their orators, 
 with a man who ever paid particular attention to 
 military excellence. 
 
 This embassy procured Pelopidas great ap- 
 plause, as well on account of the repeopling of 
 Messene, as to the restoring of liberty to the rest 
 of Greece. 
 
 Alexander the Phersean was now returned to 
 his natural disposition ; he had destroyed several 
 cities of Thessaly, and put garrisons into the 
 towns of the Phthiotae, the Achseans and the 
 Magnesians. As soon as these oppressed people 
 had learned that Pelopidas was returned, they 
 sent their deputies to Thebes, to beg the favour 
 of some forces, and that he might be their general. 
 The Thebans willingly granted their request, and 
 an army was soon got ready ; but as the general 
 
 * If Plutarch means the Spartan ambassador, 
 he differs from Xenophon, who says that his name 
 was Euthicles. He likewise tells us that Tima- 
 goras was the person whom the king esteemed 
 next to Pelopidas. 1 
 
214 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 was on the point of marching, the sun began to 
 be eclipsed, and the city was covered with dark- 
 ness in the daytime. 
 
 ^ Pelopidas, seeing the people in great consterna- 
 tion at this pke?ioi 7 tenon, did not think proper to 
 force the army to move, while under such terror 
 and dismay, nor risk the lives of 7000 of his 
 fellow-citizens. Instead of that, he went himself 
 into Thessaly, and taking with him only 300 horse, 
 consisting of Theban volunteers and strangers, he 
 set out, contrary to the warnings of the sooth- 
 sayers and inclinations of the people : for they 
 considered the eclipse as a sign from heaven, the 
 object of which must be some illustrious person- 
 age. But, besides that Pelopidas was the more 
 exasperated against Alexander by reason of the 
 ill treatment he had received, he hoped from the 
 conversation he had with Thebe, to find the 
 tyrant’s family embroiled and in great disorder. 
 The greatest incitement, however, was the honour 
 of the thing. He had a generous ambition to 
 show the Greeks, at a time when the Lacedae- 
 monians were sending generals and other officers 
 to Dionysius the tyrant of Sicily, and the Athe- 
 nians were pensioners to Alexander, as their 
 benefactor, to whom they had erected a statue in 
 brass, that the Thebans were the only people who 
 took the field in behalf of the oppressed, and en- 
 deavoured to exterminate all arbitrary and unjust 
 government. 
 
 When he was arrived at Pharsalus, he assem- 
 bled his forces, and then marched directly against 
 Alexander ; who, knowing that Pelopidas had but 
 few Thebans about him, and that he himself had 
 double his number of Thessalian infantry, went 
 to meet him as far as the temple of Thetes. When 
 he was informed that the tyrant was advancing 
 towards him with a great army, “So much the 
 better,” said he, “for we shall beat so many the 
 more, ” 
 
 Near the place called Cynoscephalse, there are 
 two steep hills opposite each other, in the middle 
 of the plain. Both sides endeavoured to get 
 possession of these hills with their infantry. In 
 the mean time Pelopidas with his cavalry, which 
 was numerous and excellent, charged the enemy’s 
 horse, and put them to the rout. But while he 
 was pursuing them over the plain, Alexander had 
 gained the hills, having got before the Thessalian 
 foot, which he attacked as they were trying to 
 force those strong heights, killing the foremost, 
 and wounding many of those that followed, so 
 that they toiled without effecting anything, 
 Pelopidas seeing this, called back his cavalry, and 
 ordered thein to fall upon such of the enemy as 
 still kept their ^ound on the plain ; and taking 
 his buckler in his hand, he ran to join those that 
 were engaged on the hills. He soon made his 
 way to the front, and by his presence inspired his 
 soldiers with such vigour and alacrity, that the 
 enemy thought they had quite different men to 
 deal with. They stood two or three charges ; 
 but when they found that the foot still pressed 
 forward, and saw the horse return from the pur- 
 suit, they gave ground, and retreated, but slowly, 
 and step by step. Pelopidas then taking a view, 
 from an eminence, of the enemy’s whole army, 
 which did not yet take to flight, but was full of 
 confusion and disorder, stopped a while to look 
 round for Alexander. When he perceived him 
 on the right encouraging and rallying the mer- 
 cenaries, he was no longer master of himself ; 
 
 but, sacrificing both his safety ^nd his duty as a 
 general, to his passion, he sprang forward a great 
 way before his troops, loudly calling for and 
 c^llenging the tyrant, who did not dare to meet 
 him or to wait for him, but fell back and hid him- 
 self in the midst of his guards. The foremost 
 ranks of the mercenaries, who came hand to hand, 
 were broken by Pelopidas, and a number of them 
 slain ; but others, fighting at a distance, pierced 
 his armour with their javelins. The Thessalians, 
 e:«remely anxious for him, ran down the hill to 
 his assistance, but when they came to the place, 
 they found him dead upon the ground. Both 
 horse and foot then falling upon the enemy’s main 
 body, entirely routed them, and killed above 3000. 
 The pursuit continued a long way, and the fields 
 were covered with the carcases of the slain. 
 
 Such of the Thebans as were present were 
 greatly afflicted at the death of Pelopidas, calling 
 him their father, their saviour, and instructor in 
 every thing that was great and honourable. Nor 
 is this to be wondered at ; since the Thessalians 
 and allies, after exceeding, by their public acts 
 in his favour, the greatest honours that are 
 u.sually paid to human virtue, testified their 
 regard for him still more sensibly by the deepest 
 sorrow. ^ For it is said, that those who were in 
 the action, neither put off their armour, nor 
 unbridled their horses, nor bound up their 
 wounds, after they heard that he was dead ; but, 
 notwithstanding their heat and fatigue, repaired 
 to the body, as if it still had life and sense, piled 
 round it the spoils of the enemy, and cut off their 
 horses’ manes and their own hair.* Many of 
 them, when they retired to their tents, neither 
 kindled a fire nor took any refreshment : but a 
 melancholy silence prevailed throughout the 
 camp, as if,^ instead of gaining so great and 
 glorious a victory, they had been worsted and 
 enslaved by the tyrant. 
 
 When the news w^as carried to the towns, the 
 magistrates, young men, children, and priests, 
 came out to meet the body, wdth trophies, crowns, 
 and golden armour : and wfflen the time of his 
 interment was come, some of the Thessalians who 
 were venerable for their age, went and begged 
 of the Thebans that they might have the honour 
 of burying him. One of them expressed himself 
 in these terms: “What we request of you, our 
 good allies, wall be an honour and consolation to 
 us under this great misfortune. It is not the 
 living Pelopidas, whom the Thessalians desire to 
 attend ; it is not to Pelopidas sensible of their 
 gratitude, that they would now pay the due 
 honours ; all we ask is the permission to wash, 
 to adorn, and inter his dead body. And if we 
 obtain this favour, we shall believe you are per- 
 suaded that we think our share in the common 
 calamity greater than yours. You have lost only 
 a good general, but we are so unhappy as to be 
 deprived both of him and of our liberty. For how 
 shall we presume to ask you for another general, 
 when we have not restored to you Pelopidas ? ” 
 
 The Thebans granted their request. And 
 surely there never was a more magnificent funeral, 
 at least in the opinion of those who do not place 
 magnificence in ivory, gold, and purple ; as 
 Philistus did, who dwells in admiration upon the 
 funeral of Dionysius ; which, properly speaking, 
 
 * A customary token of mourning among the 
 ancients. 
 
MARCELLUS, 215 
 
 was nothing but the pompous catastrophe of that 
 bloody tragedy, his tyranny. Alexander the 
 Great, too, upon the death of Hephsestion, not 
 only had the manes of the horses and mules shorn, 
 but caused the battlements of the walls to be taken 
 down, that the very cities might seem to mourn, 
 by losing their ornaments, and having the ap- 
 pearance of being shorn and chastised with grief. 
 These things being the effects of arbitrary orders, 
 executed through necessity, and attended both 
 with envy of those for whom they are done, and 
 hatred of those who command them, are not 
 proofs of esteem and respect, but of barbaric 
 pomp, of luxury, and vanity, in those who lavish 
 their wealth to such vain and despicable purposes. 
 But that a man who was only one of the subjects 
 of a republic, dying in a strange country, neither 
 his wife, children, nor kinsmen present, without 
 the request or command of any one, should be 
 attended home, conducted to the grave, and 
 crowned by so many cities and tribes, might 
 justly pass for an instance of the most perfect 
 happiness. For the observation of .^sop is not 
 true, that Death is most unfortunate in the time 
 ~of prosperity ; on the contrary, it is then most 
 happy,^since it secures to good men the glory of 
 their virtuous actions, and puts them above the 
 power of fortune. The compliment, therefore, of 
 the Spartan was much more rational, when em- 
 bracing Diagoras, after he and his sons and 
 grandsons had all conquered and been crowned 
 at the Olympic games, he said, “ Die, die now, 
 Diagoras, for thou canst not be a god.” And 
 yet, 1 think, if a man should put all the victories 
 ■ in the Olympian and Pythian games together, he 
 would not pretend to compare them with any one 
 of the enterprises of Pelopidas, which were many 
 and all successful ; so that after he had flourished 
 the greatest part of his life with honour and re- 
 nown, and had been appointed the thirteenth time 
 governor of Boeotia, he died in a great exploit, 
 the consequence of which was the destruction of 
 the tyrant, and the restoring of its liberties to 
 Thessaly. 
 
 His death, as it gave the allies great concern, 
 so it brought them still greater advantages. For 
 the Thebans were no sooner informed of it, than 
 prompted by a desire of revenge, they sent upon 
 that business 7000 foot and 700 horse, under the 
 command of Malcites and Diogiton. These 
 finding Alexander weakened with his late defeat, 
 and reduced to great difficulties, compelled him 
 to restore the cities he had taken from the Thes- 
 
 salians, to withdraw his garrisons from the terri- 
 tories of the Magnesians, the Phthiotse, and 
 Achseans, and to engage by oath to submit to the 
 Thebans, and to keep his forces in readiness to 
 execute their orders. 
 
 And here it is proper to relate the punishment 
 which the gods inflicted upon him soon after for 
 his treatment of Pelopidas. He, as we have 
 already mentioned, first taught Thebe, the tyrant’s 
 wife, not to dread the exterior pomp and splendour 
 of his palace, though she lived in the midst of 
 guards, consisting of exiles from other countries. 
 She, therefore, fearing his falsehood, and hating 
 his cruelty, agreed with her three brothers, 
 Tisiphonus, Pytholaus, and Lycophron, to take 
 him off ; and they put their design in execution 
 after this manner. The whole palace was full of 
 guards, who watched all the night, except the 
 tyrant’s bed-chamber, which was an upper room, 
 and the door of the apartment was guarded by a 
 dog who was chained there, and who would fly 
 at everybody except his master and mistress, and 
 one slave that fed him. When the time fixed 
 for the attempt was come, Thebe concealed her 
 brothers, before it was dark, in a room hard by. 
 She went in alone, as usual, to Alexander, who 
 was already asleep, but presently came out again , 
 and ordered the slave to take away the dog. 
 because her husband chose to sleep without being 
 disturbed : and that the stairs might not creak 
 as the young men came up, she covered them 
 with wool. She then fetched up her brothers, 
 and leaving them at the door with poniards in 
 their hands, went into the chamber, and taking 
 away the tyrant’s sword, which hung at the head 
 of his bed, showed it them as a proof that he 
 was fast asleep. The young men now being 
 struck with terror, and not daring to advance, 
 she reproached them with cowardice, and swore 
 in her rage, that she would awake Alexander, and 
 tell him the whole. Shame and fear having 
 brought them to themselves, she led them in and 
 placed them about the bed, herself holding the 
 light. One of them caught him by the feet, and 
 another by the hair of his jiead, while the third 
 stabbed him with his poniard. Such a death 
 was, perhaps, too speedy for so abominable a 
 monster ; but if it be considered that he was the 
 first tyrant who was assassinated by his own wife, 
 and that his dead body was exposed to all kinds 
 of indignities, and spurned and trodden under 
 foot by his subjects, his punishment will appear 
 to have been proportioned to his crimes. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Marcus Claudius, who was five times consul, 
 was the son of Marcus ; and, according to Posi- 
 donius, the first of his family that bore the sur- 
 name of Marcellus, that is, Martial. He had, 
 indeed, a great deal of military experience ; his 
 make was strong, his arm almost irresistible, and 
 he was naturally inclined to war. But though 
 impetuous and lofty in the combat, on other 
 occasions he was modest and humane. He was so 
 far a lover of the Grecian learning and eloquence, 
 as to honour and admire those that excelled in 
 them, though his employments prevented his mak- 
 mg that progress in them which he desired. For 
 if Heaven ever designed that any men— 
 
 In war’s rude lists shoul d combat. 
 From youth to age, — 
 
 as Homer expresses it, certainly it was the 
 principal Romans of those times. In their youth 
 they had to contend with the Carthaginians for 
 the island of Sicily, in their middle age with the 
 Gauls for Italy itself, and, in their old age again 
 with the Carthaginians and Hannibal. Thus, 
 even in age, they had not the common relaxa- 
 tion and repose, but were called forth by their 
 birth and their merit to accept of military com- 
 mands. 
 
 As for Marcellus, there was no kind of fighting 
 
2i6 
 
 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 in which he was not admirably well skilled ; but 
 in single combat he excelled himself. He, there- 
 fore, never refused a challenge, or failed of killing 
 the challenger. In Sicily, seeing his brother 
 Otacilius in great danger, he covered him with 
 his shield, slew those that attacked him, and 
 saved his life. For these things he received from 
 the generals crowns and other military honours, 
 while but a youth ; and his reputation increasing 
 every day, the people appointed him to the office 
 of C7irule cedile, and the priests to that of augttr. 
 This is a kind of sacerdotal function to which the 
 law assigns the care of that divination which is 
 taken from the flights of birds. 
 
 ***** 
 
 After the first Carthaginian war,* * which had 
 lasted twenty-two years, Rome was soon engaged 
 in a new war with the Gauls, The Insubrians, a 
 Celtic nation, who inhabit that part of Italy which 
 lies at the foot of the Alps, though very powerful 
 in themselves, called in the assistance of the 
 Gesatae, a people of Gaul, who fight for pay on 
 such occasions. It was a wonderful and fortunate 
 thing for the Roman people, that the Gallic war 
 did not break out at the same time with the 
 Punic ; and that the Gauls observing an exact 
 neutrality all that time, as if they had waited to 
 take up the conqueror, did not attack the Romans 
 till they were victorious, and at leisure to receive 
 them. However, this war was not a little alarm- 
 ing to the Romans, as well on account of the 
 vicinity of the Gauls, as their character of old as 
 warriors. They were, indeed, the enemy whom 
 they dreaded most ; for they had niade themselves 
 masters of Rome ; and from that time it had been 
 provided by law, that the priests should be ex- 
 empted from bearing arms, except it were to 
 defend the city against the Gauls. 
 
 The vast preparations they made were farther 
 proofs of their fears (for it is said that so many 
 thousands of Romans were never seen in arms 
 either before or since) ; and so were the new and 
 extraordinary sacrifices which they offered. On 
 other occasions, they had not adopted the rites of 
 barbarous and savage nations, but their religious 
 customs had been agreeable to the mild and 
 merciffil ceremonies of the Greeks : yet on the 
 appearance of this war, they were forced to com- 
 ply with certain oracles found in the books of the 
 Sibyls ; and thereupon they buried two Greeks, 
 
 * Plutarch is a little mistaken here in his 
 chronology. The first Punic war lasted twenty- 
 four years, for it began in the year of Rome 489, 
 and peace was made with the Carthaginians in 
 the year 512. The Gauls continued quiet all that 
 time, and did not begin to stir till four years 
 after. Then they advanced to Ariminum ; but 
 the Boii mutinying against their leaders, slew the 
 kings Ates and Galates ; after which the Gauls 
 fell upon each other, and numbers were slam ; 
 they that survived returned home. Five years 
 after this, the Gauls began to prepare for a new 
 war, on account of the division which Flaminius 
 had made of the lands in the Picene, taken ffom 
 the Senones of Gallia Cisalpina. _ These prepara- 
 tions were carrying on a long time ; and it was 
 eight years after that division, before the war 
 began in earnest under their chiefs Congolitanus 
 and Aneroestes, when L. iEmilius Papus and C. 
 Atilius Regulus were consuls, in the five hundred 
 and twenty-eighth year of Rome, and the third 
 
 a man and a woman, and Hkewise two Gauls,* one 
 of each sex, alive in the beast market. A thing 
 that gave rise to certain private and mysterious 
 rites, which still continue to be performed in the 
 month of November. 
 
 In the beginning of the war the Romans some- 
 times gained great advantages, and sometimes 
 were no less signally defeated ; but there was no 
 decisive action, till the consulate of Flaminius 
 and Furius, who led a very powerful army against 
 the_ Insubrians. Then we are told, the river 
 which runs through the Picene, was seen flowing 
 with blood, and that three moons appeared over 
 the city of Ariminum. But the priests who were 
 to observe the flight of birds at the time of 
 choosing consuls, affirmed that the election was 
 faulty and inauspicious. The senate, therefore, 
 immediately sent letters to the camp, to recal the 
 consuls, insisting that they should return without 
 loss of time, and resign their office, and forbidding 
 them to act at all against the enemy in conse- 
 quence of their late appointment, 
 
 Flaminius haying received these letters, deferred 
 opening them till he had engaged and routed the 
 barbarians, and overrun their country.! There- 
 fore, when he returned loaded with spoils, the 
 people did not go out to meet him ; and because 
 he did not directly obey the order that recalled 
 him, but treated it with contempt, he was in 
 danger of losing his triumph. As soon as the 
 triumph was over, both he and his colleague were 
 deposed, and reduced to the rank of private 
 citizens. So much regard had the Romans for 
 religion, referring all their affairs to the good 
 pleasure of the gods, and, in their greatest pros- 
 perity, not sulfering any neglect of the forms of 
 divination and other sacred usages ; for they 
 were fully persuaded, that it was a matter of 
 greater importance to the preservation of their 
 state to have their generals obedient to the gods, 
 than even to have them victorious in the field. 
 
 To this purpose, the following story is remark- 
 able : — Tiberius Sempronius, who was as much 
 respected for his valour and probity as any man 
 in Rome, while consul, named Scipio Nasica and 
 
 ye^ of the one hundred and thirty-eighth olym- 
 piad. POLYB. 1. ii. 
 
 * They offered the same sacrifice at the be- 
 ginning of the second Punic war. Liv. 1 . 
 xxii. 5, 7- 
 
 f Flaminius was not entitled to this success by 
 his conduct. He gave battle with a river behind 
 him, where there was not room for his men to 
 rally or retieat, if they had been broken. But 
 possibly he might make such a disposition of his 
 forces, to show them that they must either conquer 
 or die ; for he knew that he was acting against 
 the intentions of the senate, and that nothing but 
 success could bring him off. Indeed, he was 
 naturally rash and daring. 
 
 It was the skill and management of the legion- 
 ary tribunes which made amends for the consul’s 
 imprudence. They distributed among the soldiers 
 of the first line the pikes of the Triarii, to prevent 
 the enemy from making use of their swords ; and 
 when the first ardour of the Gauls was over, they 
 ordered the Romans to shorten their swords, close 
 with the enemy, so as to leave them no room to 
 lift up their arms, and stab them ; which they did 
 without running any hazard themselves, the 
 swords of the Gauls having no point. 
 
AIARCELLUS. 
 
 Cams Marcius his successors. When they were 
 gone into the provinces allotted them, Sempronius 
 happening to meet with a book which contained 
 the sacred regulations for the conduct of war, 
 found that there was one particular which he 
 never knew before. It was this: “When the 
 consul goes to take the auspices in a house or 
 tent without the city, hired for that purpose, and 
 is obliged by some necessary business to return 
 into the city before any sure sign appears to him, 
 he must not make use of that lodge again, but 
 take another, and there begin his observations 
 anew.'' Sempronius was ignorant of this, when 
 he named those two consuls, for he had twice 
 made use of the same place : but when he per- 
 ceived his error, he made the senate acquainted 
 with it. They, for their part, did not lightly pass 
 over so small a defect, but wrote to the consuls 
 about it ; who left their provinces, and returned 
 with all speed to Rome, where they laid down 
 their offices. This did not happen till long after 
 the aftair of which we were speaking.* * * § * 
 
 But about that very time, two priests of the 
 best families of Rome, Cornelius Cethegus and 
 Quintus Sulpicius, were degraded from the priest- 
 hood ; the former, because he did not present the 
 entrails of the victim according to rule ; and the 
 latter, because as he was sacrificing, the tuft of 
 his cap, which was such a one as the Fla^nines 
 wear, fell off. And because the squeaking of a 
 rat happened to be heard, at the moment that 
 Minucius the dictator appointed Caius Flaminius 
 his genera] of horse, the people obliged them to 
 quit their posts, and appointed others in then- 
 stead. But while they observed these small 
 matters with such exactness, they gave not into 
 any sort of superstition,! for they neither changed 
 nor went beyond the ancient ceremonies. 
 
 Flaminius and his colleague being deposed from 
 the consulship, the magistrates, called interreges, J 
 nominated Marcellus to that high office ; who, 
 when he entered upon it, took Cneius Cornelius 
 for his colleague. Though the Gauls are said 
 to have been disposed to a reconciliation, and 
 the senate was peaceably inclined, yet the people, 
 at the instigation of Marcellus, were for war. 
 However, a peace was concluded ; which seems 
 to have been broke by the Gesatse, who having 
 passed the Alps, with 30,000 men, prevailed with 
 the Insubrians to join them with much greater 
 numbers. Elated with their strength, they 
 marched inunediately to Acerrse,§ a city on the 
 banks of the Po. There Viridomarus, king of 
 the Gesatse, took 10,000 men from the main body, 
 and with this party laid waste all the country 
 about the river. 
 
 When Marcellus was informed of their march, 
 he left his colleague before Acerrse, with all the 
 
 * Sixty years after. 
 
 t This word is here used in the literal sense. 
 
 t These were officers, who, when there were no 
 legal magistrates in being, were appointed to hold 
 the co 7 nitia for electing new ones. The title of 
 interreges, which was given them while the 
 government was regal, was continued to them 
 under the commonwealth. 
 
 § The Romans were besieging Acerrse, and the 
 Gauls went to relieve it ; but finding themselves 
 unable to do that, they passed the Po with part 
 of their array, and laid siege to Clastidium to 
 make a diversion. Polyb. 1. ii. 
 
 heavy-armed infant^, and the third part of the 
 horse : and taking with him the rest of the cavalry, 
 and about six hundred of the light-armed foot, he 
 set out, and kept forward day and night till he 
 came_ up with the ten thousand Gesatse near 
 Clastidium,* a little town of the Gauls, which 
 had very_ lately submitted to the Romans. He 
 had not time to give his troops any rest or refresh- 
 rnent ; for the barbarians immediately perceived 
 his approach, and despised his attempt, as he had 
 but a handful of infantry, and they made no 
 account of his cavalry. These, as well as all the 
 other Gauls, being skilled in fighting on horse- 
 back, thought they had the advantage in this 
 respect ; and, besides, they greatly exceeded 
 Marcellus in numbers. They marched, therefore, 
 directly against him, their king at their head, 
 with great impetuosity and dreadful menaces, 
 as if sure- of crushing him at once. Marcellus, 
 because his party was but small, to prevent its 
 being surrounded, extended the wings of his 
 cavalry, thinning and widening the line, till he 
 presented a front nearly equal to that of the 
 enemy. ^ He was now advancing to the charge, 
 when his horse, terrified with the shouts of the 
 Gauls, turned short, and forcibly carried him 
 back. Marcellus fearing that this, interpreted 
 by superstition, should cause some disorder in his 
 troops, quickly turned his horse again towards 
 the enemy, and then paid his adorations to the 
 sun ; as if that movement had been made, not by 
 accident but design, for the Romans always turn 
 round when they worship the gods. Upon the 
 point of engaging, he vowed to Jupiter Feretrins 
 the choicest of the enemy’s arms. In the mean 
 time, the king of the Gauls spied him, and judging 
 by the ensigns of authority that he was the consul, 
 he set spurs to his horse, and advanced a con- 
 siderable way before the rest, brandishing his 
 spear, and loudly challenging him to the combat. 
 He was distinguished from the rest of the Gauls 
 by his stature, as well as by his armour, which, 
 being set oflf with gold and silver, and the most 
 lively colours, shone like lightning. As Mar- 
 cellus was viewing the disposition of the enemy’s 
 forces, he cast his eyes upon this rich suit of 
 armour, and concluding that in it his vow to 
 Jupiter would be^ accomplished, he rushed upon 
 the Gaul, and pierced his breastplate with his 
 spear ; which stroke, together with the weight 
 and force of the consul’s horse, brought him to 
 the ground, and with two or three more blows 
 he despatched him. He then leaped from his 
 horse and disarmed him, and lifting up his spoils 
 towards heaven, he said, “O Jupiter Feretrius, 
 who obser\^est the deeds of great warriors and 
 generals in battle, I now call thee to witness, that 
 I am the third Roman consul and general who 
 have, with my own hands, slain a general and a 
 king ! To thee I consecrate the most excellent 
 spoils. Do thou grant us equal success in the 
 prosecution of this war.” 
 
 When this prayer was ended, the Roman 
 cavalry encountered both the enemy’s horse and 
 foot at the same time, and gained a victory ; not 
 only great in itself, but peculiar in its kind : for 
 we have no account of such a handful of cavalry 
 beating such numbers, both of horse and foot, 
 either before or since. Marcellus having killed 
 the greatest part of the enemy, and taken their 
 
 * Li\w places this town in Liguria Montana. 
 
2i8 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 arms and baggage, returned to his colleague,* 
 who had no such good success against the Gauls 
 before Milan, which is a great and populous city, 
 and the metropolis of that country. For this 
 reason the Gauls defended it with such spirit and 
 resolution, that Scipio, instead of besieging it, 
 seemed rather besieged himself. But upon the 
 return of Marcellus, the Gesatse, understanding 
 that their king was slain, and his army defeated, 
 drew off their forces ; and so Milan was taken ; f 
 and the Gauls surrendering the rest of their 
 cities, and referring everything to the equity 
 of the Romans, obtained reasonable conditions 
 of peace. 
 
 The senate decreed a triumph to Marcellus 
 only ; and, whether we consider the rich spoils 
 that were displayed in it, the prodigious size of 
 the captives, or the magnificence with which the 
 whole was conducted, it was one of the most 
 splendid that was ever seen. But the most 
 agreeable and most uncommon spectacle was 
 Marcellus himself, carrying the armour of Viri- 
 domarus, which he vowed to Jupiter. He had 
 cut the trunk of an oak in the form of a trophy, 
 which he adorned with the spoils of that barbarian, 
 placing every part of his arms in handsome order. 
 When the procession began to move, he mounted 
 his chariot, which was drawn by four horses, and 
 passed through the city with the trophy on his 
 shoulders, which was the noblest ornament of the 
 whole triumph. The army followed, clad in 
 elegant armour, and singing odes composed for 
 that occasion, and other songs of triumph, in 
 honour of Jupiter and their general. 
 
 When he came to the temple of Jupiter 
 Feretrius he set up and consecrated the trophy, 
 being the third and last general who as yet has 
 been so gloriously distinguished. The first was 
 Romulus, after he had slain Acron, king of the 
 Cseninenses; Cornelius Cossus, who slew Volum- 
 nius the Tuscan, was the second ; and the third 
 and last was Marcellus, who killed with his own 
 hand Viridomarus, king of the Gauls. The god 
 to whom these spoils were devoted, was Jupiter, 
 surnamed Feretruis, (as some say) from the 
 Greek word Pheretron, which signifies a car, for 
 the trophy was borne on such a carriage, and the 
 Greek language at that time was much mixed 
 with the Latin. Others say, Jupiter had that 
 appellation, because he strikes 'with lightning, 
 for the Latin word ferire signifies to strike. 
 Others again will have it, that it is on account of 
 the strokes which are given in battle ; for even 
 now, when the Romans charge or pursue an 
 enemy, they encourage each other by calling out, 
 
 ‘ ‘ Feri,feri, strike, strike them down. ” What they 
 take from the enemy in the field, they call by 
 the general name of spoils, but those which a 
 Roman general takes from the general of the 
 enemy, they call opime spoils. It is indeed said, 
 that Numa Pompiiius, in his commentaries, makes 
 mention of opime spoils of the first, second, and 
 third order; that he directed the first to be 
 consecrated to Jupiter, the second to Mars, and 
 
 * During the absence of Marcellus, Acerrse 
 had been taken by his colleague Scipio, who 
 from thence had marched to invest Mediolanum, 
 or Milan. 
 
 t Comum also, another city of great importance, 
 surrendered. Thus all Italy, from the Alps to the 
 Ionian sea, became entirely Roman. 
 
 the third to Quirinus ; and that the persons who 
 took the first should be rewarded with 300 uses, 
 the second, with 200, and the third, 100. But 
 the most received opinion is, that those of the 
 first sort only should be honoured with the name 
 opime, which a general takes in a pitched battle, 
 when he kills the enemy*s general with his own 
 hand. But enough of this matter. 
 
 The Romans thought themselves so happy in 
 the glorious period put to this war, that they 
 made an offering to Apollo at Delphi of a golden 
 cup in testimony of their gratitude : they also 
 liberally shared the spoils with the confederate 
 cities, and made a very handsome present out of 
 them to Hiero, king of Syracuse, their friend and 
 ally. 
 
 Sometime after this, Hannibal having entered 
 Italy, Marcellus was sent with a fleet to Sicily. 
 The war continued to rage, and that unfortunate 
 blow was received at Cannae, by which many 
 thousands of Romans fell. The few that escaped 
 fled to Canusium ; and it was expected that 
 Hannibal, who had thus destroyed the strength 
 of the Roman forces, would march directly to 
 Rome. Hereupon, Marcellus first sent 1500 of 
 his men to guard the city, and afterwards, by 
 order of the senate, he went to Canusium, drew 
 out the troops that had retired thither, and 
 marched at their head to keep the country from 
 being ravaged by the enemy. 
 
 The v/ars had by this time carried off the chief 
 of the Roman nobility, and most of their best 
 officers. Still, indeed, there remained Fabius 
 Maximus, a man highly respected for his probity 
 and prudence ; but his extraordinary attention to 
 the avoiding of loss passed for want of spirit and 
 incapacity for action. The Romans, therefore, 
 considering him as a proper person for the de- 
 fensive, but not the ofensive part of war, had 
 recourse to Marcellus ; and wisely tempering his 
 boldness and activity with the slow and cautious 
 conduct of Fabius, they sometimes appointed 
 them consuls together, and sometimes sent out 
 the one in the quality of Consul, and the other in 
 that of Proconsul. Posidonius tells us, that 
 Fabius was called the bzickler, and Marcellus the 
 sword: but Hannibal himself said, he stood in 
 fear of Fabius as his schoolmaster, and of Mar- 
 cellus as his adversary : for he received hurt from 
 the latter, and the former prevented his doing 
 hurt himself. 
 
 Hannibal’s soldiers, elated with their victory, 
 grew careless, and, straggling from the camp, 
 roamed about the country ; where Marcellus fell 
 upon them, and cut off great numbers. After 
 this, he went to the relief of Naples and Nola. 
 The Neapolitans he confirmed in the Roman 
 interest, to which they were themselves well 
 inclined: but when he entered Nola, he found 
 great divisions there, the senate of that city being 
 unable to restrain the commonalty who were 
 attached to Hannibal. There was a citizen in 
 this place named Bandius,*- well born and cele- 
 brated for his valour : for he greatly distinguished 
 himself in the battle of Cannse, where, after 
 killing a number of Carthaginians, he was at last 
 found upon a heap of dead bodies, covered with 
 wounds. ^ Hannibal admiring his bravery, dis- 
 missed him not only without ransom, but with 
 handsome presents, honouring him with his 
 
 * Or Bantius. 
 
MARCELLUS. 
 
 219 
 
 friendship and admission to the rights of hos- 
 pitality. Bandius, in gratitude for these favours, 
 heartily espoused the party of Hannibal, and by 
 his authority drew the people on to a revolt. 
 Marcellus thought it wrdhg to put a man to death, 
 who had gloriously fought the battles of Rome. 
 Besides, the general had so engaging a manner 
 grafted upon his native humanity, that he could 
 hardly fail of attracting the regards of a man of a 
 great and generous spirit. One day, Bandius 
 happening to salute him, Marcellus asked who he 
 was : not that he was a stranger to his person, 
 but that he might have an opportunity to introduce 
 what he had to say. Being told his name was 
 Lucius Bandius, “ What ! ” says Marcellus, in 
 seeming admiration, that Bandius who has been 
 so much talked of in Rome for his gallant 
 behaviour at Cannae, who indeed was the only 
 man that did not abandon the consul ^Emilius, 
 but received^ in his own body most of the shafts 
 that were aimed at him ! Bandius saying, he 
 was the very person, and showing some of his 
 scars, “Why, then,” replied Marcellus, “when 
 you bore about you such marks of your regard 
 for us, did not you come to us one of the first ? 
 Do we seem to you slow to reward the virtue of 
 a friend,_who is honoured even by his enemies?” 
 After this obliging discourse, he embraced him, 
 and made him a present of a war horse, and 500 
 drachmas in silver. 
 
 From this time Bandius was very cordially 
 attached to Marcellus, and constantly informed 
 him of the proceedings of the opposite party, who 
 were very numerous, and who had resolved, 
 when the Romans marched out against the enemy, 
 to plunder^ their baggage. Hereupon Marcellus 
 drew up his forces in order of battle within the 
 city, placed the baggage near the gates, and 
 published an edict, forbidding the inhabitants to 
 appear upon the walls. Hannibal seeing no 
 hostile appearance, concluded that everything 
 was in great disorder in the city, and therefore 
 he approached it with little precaution. At this 
 moment Marcellus commanded the gate that was 
 next him to be opened, and sallying out with the 
 best of his cavalry, he charged the enemy in 
 front. Soon after the infantry rushed out at 
 another gate, with loud shouts. And while 
 Hannibal was dividing his forces, to oppose these 
 two parties, a third gate was opened, and the 
 rest of the Roman troops issuing out, attacked 
 the enemy on another side, who were greatly 
 disconcerted at such an unexpected sally, and 
 who made but a faint resistance against those 
 with whom they were first engaged, by reason of 
 their being fallen upon by another body. 
 
 Then it was that Hannibal’s men, struck with 
 terror, and covered with wounds, first gave back 
 before the Romans, and were driven to their camp. 
 Above 5000 of them are said to have been slain, 
 wherea.s of the Romans there fell not more than 
 500. Livy does not, indeed, make this defeat 
 and loss on the Carthaginian side to have been 
 so considerable ; he only affirms that Marcellus 
 gamed great honour by this battle, and that the 
 courage of the Romans was wonderfully restored 
 after all their misfortunes, who now no longer 
 believed that they had to do with an enemy that 
 was invincible, but one who was liable to suffer 
 in his turn. 
 
 For this reason the people called IMarcellus, 
 though absent, to fill the place of one of the 
 
 consuls who was dead, and prevailed, against 
 the sense of the magistrates, to have the election 
 put off till his return. Upon his arrival, he was 
 unanimously chosen consul ; but it happening to 
 thunder at that time, the augurs saw that the 
 omen was unfortunate ; and, as they did not 
 choose to declare it such, for fear of the people, t 
 Marcellus^ voluntarily laid down the office. Not- 
 withstanding this, he had the command of the 
 army continued to him, in quality of Proconsul, 
 and returned immediately to Nola, from whence 
 he made excursions to chastise those that had 
 declared for^ the Carthaginians. Hannibal made 
 haste to their assistance, and offered him battle, 
 which he declined. But some days after, when 
 he saw that Hannibal, no longer expecting a 
 battle, had sent out the greatest part of his 
 army to plunder the country, he attacked him 
 vigorously, having first provided the foot with 
 long spears, such as they use in sea-fights, which 
 they were taught to hurl at the Carthaginians at 
 a distance, who, for their part, were not skilled 
 in the use of the javelin, and only fought hand to 
 hand with short swords. For this reason all that 
 attempted to make head against the Romans, 
 were obliged to give way, and fly in great con- 
 fusion, leaving 5000 men slain upon the field ; t 
 besides the loss of four elephants killed, and two 
 taken. What was of still greater importance, the 
 third ^ day after the battle, § above 300 horse, 
 Spaniards and Namidians, came over to Mar- 
 cellus. A misfortune which never before hap- 
 pened to Hannibal ; for though his army was 
 collected from several barbarous nations, different 
 both in their manners and their language, yet he 
 had a long time preserved a perfect unanimity 
 throughout the whole. This body of horse ever 
 continued faithful to Marcellus, and those that 
 succeeded him in the command. || 
 
 ^ Marcellus, being appointed consul the third 
 time, passed over into Sicily.^ For Hannibal’s 
 
 * This was_ Posthumus Albinus, who was cut 
 off with all his army by the Boii in a vast forest, 
 called by the Gauls the forest of Litana. It 
 seems they had cut all the trees near the road he 
 was to pass in such a manner that they might be 
 tumbled upon his army with the least motion. 
 
 t Marcellus was a plebeian, as was also his 
 colleague Sempronius ; and the patricians, un- 
 willing to see two plebeians consuls at the same 
 time, influenced the augurs to pronounce the 
 election of Marcellus disagreeable to the gods. 
 But the people would not have acquiesced in the 
 declaration of the augurs, had not Marcellus 
 showed himself on this occasion as zealous a 
 republican as he was a great commander, and 
 refused that honour which had not the sanction 
 of all his fellow-citizens. 
 
 t On the Roman side there were not 1000 killed. 
 Liv. lib. xxiii. c. 46. 
 
 § Livy makes them 1272. It is therefore pro- 
 bable that we should read in this place “ 1300 
 horse.” 
 
 II Marcellus beat Hannibal a third time before 
 Nola : and had Claudius Nero, who was sent out 
 to take a circuit and attack the Carthaginians in 
 the rear, come up in time, that day would pro- 
 bably have made reprisals for the loss sustained at 
 Cannae. Liv. lib. xxiv. 17. 
 
 IT In the second year of the hundred and forty- 
 first olympiad, the five hundred and thirty-ninth 
 
220 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 great success had encouraged the Carthaginians 
 again to support their claim to that island : and 
 they did it the rather, because the affairs of 
 Sj’^racuse were in some confusion upon the death 
 of Hieronymus* * its sovereign. On this account 
 the Romans had already sent an army thither 
 under the command of Appius Claudius, f 
 
 The command devolving upon Marcellus, he 
 was no sooner arrived in Sicily, than a great 
 number of Romans came to throw themselves at 
 his feet, and represent to him their distress. Of 
 those that fought against Hannibal at Cannae, 
 some escaped by flight, and others were taken 
 prisoners ; the latter in such numbers, that it was 
 thought the Romans must want men to defend 
 the walls of their capital. Yet that common- 
 wealth had so much firmness and elevation of 
 mind, that though Hannibal offered to release 
 the prisoners for a very inconsiderable ransom, 
 they refused it by a public act, and left them to be 
 put to death or sold out of Italy. As for those 
 that had saved themselves by flight, they sent 
 them into Sicily, with an order not to set foot on 
 Italian ground during the war with Hannibal. 
 These came to Marcellus in a body, and falling 
 on their knees, begged with loud lamentations 
 and_ floods of tears, the favour of being admitted 
 again into the army, promising to make it appear 
 by their future behaviour, that that defeat was 
 owing to their misfortune, and not to their 
 cowardice. Marcellus, moved with compassion, 
 wrote to the senate, desiring leave to recruit his 
 army with these exiles, as he should find occasion. 
 After much deliberation, the senate signified by 
 a decree, that the commonwealth had no need of 
 the service of cowards : that Marcellus, however, 
 might employ them if he pleased, but on condition 
 that he did not bestow upon any of them crowns, 
 or other honorary rewards. This decree gave 
 Marcellus some uneasiness, and after he returned 
 from the war in Sicily, he expostulated with the 
 senate, and complained, that for all his services 
 
 of Rome, and two hundred and twelve years 
 before the birth of Christ. 
 
 * Hieronymus was murdered by his own .sub- 
 jects at Leontium, the conspirators having pre- 
 vailed upon Dinomanes, one of his guards, to 
 favour their attack. He was the son of Gelo 
 and the grandson of Hiero. His father Gelo died 
 first, and afterwards his grandfather, being ninety 
 years old ; and Hieronymus, who was not then 
 fifteen, was slain some months after. These three 
 deaths happened towards the latter end of the 
 year that preceded Marcellus’s third consulate. 
 
 t Appius Claudius, who was sent into Sicily, in 
 quality of praetor, was there before the death of 
 Hieronymus. That young prince, having a turn 
 for raillery, only laughed at the Roman am- 
 bassadors: I will ask you,” said he, '‘but one 
 
 question : who were conquerors at Cannae, you 
 or the Carthaginians ? I am told such surprising 
 things of that battle, that I should be glad to 
 know all the particulars of it.” And again, “ Let 
 the Romans restore all the gold, the corn, and 
 the other presents, that they drew from my grand- 
 father, and consent that the river Himera be the 
 common boundary between us, and I will renew 
 the ancient treaties with them.” Some writers 
 are of opinion, that the Roman praetor was not 
 entirely unconcerned in a plot which was so useful 
 to his republic. 
 
 they would not allow him to rescue from infamy 
 those unfortunate citizens. 
 
 His first care, after he arrived in Sicily, was to 
 make reprisals for the injury received from Hippo- 
 crates, the Syracusan general, who, to gratify 
 the Carthaginians, and by their means to set 
 himself up tyrant, had attacked the Romans, and 
 killed great numbers of them, in the district of 
 Leontium. Marcellus, therefore, laid siege to 
 that city, and took it by storm, but did no harm 
 to the inhabitants ; only such deserters as he 
 found there he ordered to be beaten with rods, 
 and then put to death. Hippocrates took care to 
 give the Syracusans the first notice of the taking 
 of Leontium, assuring them at the same time, 
 that Marcellus had put to the sword all that were 
 able to bear arms ; and while they were under 
 great consternation at this news, he came sud- 
 denly upon the city, and made himself master 
 of it. 
 
 Hereupon Marcellus marched with his whole 
 army, and encamped before Syracuse, But be- 
 fore he attempted anything against it, he sent 
 ambassadors with a true account of what he had 
 done at Leontium. As this information had no 
 effect with the Syracusans, who were entirely in the 
 power of Hippocrates,* he made his attacks both 
 by sea and land, Appius Claudius commanding 
 the land forces, and himself the fleet, which con- 
 sisted of sixty galleys, of five banks of oars, full 
 of all sorts of arms and missive weapons. Besides 
 these, he had a prodigious machine, carried upon 
 eight galleys fastened together, with v/hich he 
 approached the walls, relying upon the number 
 of his batteries, and other instruments of war, as 
 well as on his own great character. But Archi- 
 medes despised _ all this ; and confided in the 
 superiority of his engines : though he did not 
 think the inventing of them an object worthy of 
 his serious studies, but only reckoned them among 
 the amusements of geometry. Nor had he gone 
 so far, but at the pressing instances of king Hiero, 
 who entreated him to turn his art from abstracted 
 notions to matters of sense, and to make his 
 reasonings more intelligible to the generality of 
 mankind, applying them to the uses of common 
 life. 
 
 The first that turned their thoughts to meckajtics, 
 a branch of knowledge which came afterwards to 
 be so much admired, were Eudoxus and Archytas, 
 who thus gave a variety and an agreeable turn to 
 geometry, and confirmed certain problems by sen- 
 sible experiments and the use of instruments, 
 which could not be demonstrated in the way of 
 theorum. That problem, for example, of two 
 mean proportional lines, which cannot be found out 
 geometrically, and yet are so necessary for the 
 solution of other questions, they solved mechani- 
 cally, by the assistance of certain instruments 
 called mesolabes, taken from conic sections. But 
 when Plato inveighed against them, with great 
 indignation, as corrupting and debasing the ex- 
 
 * Hieronymus being assassinated, and the com- 
 monwealth restored, Hippocrates and Epycides, 
 Hannibal’s agents, being of Syracusan extraction, 
 had the address to get themselves admitted into 
 the number of praetors. In consequence of which, 
 they found means to embroil the Syracusans with 
 Rome, in spite of the opposition of such of the 
 praetors as had the interest of their country at 
 heart. 
 
MARCELLUS, 221 
 
 cellence of geometry, by making her descend 
 from incorporeal and intellectual, to corporeal and 
 sensible things, and obliging her to make use of 
 matter, which requires much manual labour, and 
 is the object of servile- trades ; then mechanics 
 were separated from geometry, and being a long 
 time despised by the philosopher, were considered 
 as a branch of the military art. 
 
 Be that as it may, Archimedes one day asserted 
 to king Hiero, whose kinsman and friend he was, 
 this proposition, that with a given power he could 
 move any given weight whatever ; nay, it is said, 
 from the confidence he had in his demonstration, 
 he ventured to affirm, that if there_ was another 
 earth besides this we inhabit, by going into that, 
 he would move this wherever he pleased. Hiero, 
 full of wonder, begged of him to evince the truth 
 of his proposition, by moving some great weight 
 with a small power. In compliance with which, 
 Archimedes caused one of the king’s galleys to 
 be drawn on shore with many hands and much 
 labour ; and having well manned her, and put on 
 board her usual loading, he placed himself at a 
 distance, and without any pains, only moving 
 with his hand the end of a machine, which con- 
 sisted of a variety of ropes and pulleys, he drew 
 her to him in as smooth and gentle a manner as 
 if she had been under sail. The king, quite 
 astonished when he saw the force of his art, pre- 
 vailed with Archimedes to make for him all man- 
 ner of engines and machines which could be used 
 either for attack or defence in a siege. These, 
 however, he never made use of, the greatest part 
 of his reign being blessed with tranquility ; but 
 they were extremely serviceable to the Syracu- 
 sans on the present occasion, who, with such a 
 number of machines, had the inventor to direct 
 them. 
 
 When the Romans attacked them both by sea 
 and land, they were struck dumb with terror, 
 imagining they could not possibly resist such 
 numerous forces and so furious an assault. But 
 Archimedes soon began to play his engines, and 
 they shot against the land forces all sorts of mis- 
 sive weapons and stones of an enormous size, 
 with so incredible a noise and rapidity that no- 
 thing could stand before them ; they overturned 
 and crushed whatever came in their way, and 
 spread terrible disorder throughout the ranks. 
 On the side towards the sea were erected vast 
 machines, putting forth on a sudden, over the 
 walls, huge beams with the necessary tackle, 
 which striking with a prodigious force on the 
 enemy’s galleys, sunk them at once : while other 
 ships hoisted up at the prows by iron grapples or 
 hooks,* like the beaks of cranes, and set on end 
 on the stern, were plunged to the bottom of the 
 
 sea : and others again, by ropes and grapples, 
 were drawn towards the shore, and after being 
 whirled about, and dashed against the rocks that 
 projected below the walls, were broken to pieces, 
 and the crews perished. Very often a ship lifted 
 high above the sea, suspended and twirling in the 
 air, presented a most dreadful spectacle. There 
 it swung till the men were thrown out by the 
 violence of the motion, and then it split against 
 the walls, or sunk, on the engine’s letting go its 
 hold. As for the machine which Marcellus 
 brought forward upon eight galleys, and which 
 was called sambuca, on account of its likeness to 
 the musical instrument of that name, whilst it 
 was at a considerable distance from the walls, 
 Archimedes discharged a stone of ten talents 
 weight,* and after that a second and a third, all 
 which striking upon it with an amazing noise and 
 force, shattered and totally disjointed it. 
 
 Marcellus, in this distress, drew off his galleys 
 as fast as possible, and sent orders to the land 
 forces^ to retreat likewise. He then called a 
 council of war, in which it was resolved to come 
 close to the walls, if it was possible, next morning 
 before day. For Archimedes’s engines, they 
 thought, being very strong, and intended to act 
 at a considerable distance, would then discharge 
 themselves over their heads ; and if they were 
 pointed at them when they were so near, they 
 would have no effect. But for this Archimedes 
 had long been prepared, having by him engines 
 fitted to all distances, with suitable weapons and 
 shorter beams. Besides, he had caused holes to 
 be made in the walls, in which he placed scorpions^ 
 that did not carry far, but could be very fast dis- 
 charged ; and by these the enemy was galled, 
 without knowing whence the weapon came. 
 
 When, therefore, the Romans were got close to 
 the walls, undiscovered as they thought, they 
 were welcomed with a shower of darts, and huge 
 pieces of rocks, which fell as it were perpen- 
 dicularly upon their heads ; for the engines 
 played from every quarter of the walls. This 
 ‘obliged them to retire ; and when they were at 
 some distance, other shafts were shot at them, in 
 their retreat, from the larger machines, which 
 made terrible havoc among them, as well as 
 greatly damaged their shipping, without any 
 possibility of their annoying the Syracusans in 
 their turn. For Archimedes had placed' most of 
 his engines under covert of the walls; so that 
 the Romans,' being infinitely distressed by an 
 invisible enemy, seemed to fight against the 
 gods. 
 
 Marcellus, however, got off, and laughed at his 
 own artillery-men, and engineers. “ Why do not 
 we leave off contending,” said he, ^‘with this 
 
 What most harassed the Romans was a sort 
 of crow with two claws, fastened to a long chain, 
 which was let down by a kind of lever. The 
 weight of the iron made it fall with great violence, 
 and drove it into the planks of the galleys. Then 
 the besieged, by a great weight of lead at the 
 other end of the lever, weighed it down, and con- 
 sequently raised up the iron of the crow in pro- 
 portion, and with it the prow of the galley to 
 which it was fastened, sinking the poop at the 
 sanre time into the water. After this, the crow 
 letting go its hold all on a sudden, the prow of the 
 galley fell with such force into the sea, that the 
 whole vessel was filled with water and sunk. 
 
 * It is not easy to conceive how the machines 
 formed by Archimedes could throw stones of ten 
 quintals or talents, that is, 1250 pounds weight, 
 at the ships of Marcellus, when they were at a 
 considerable distance from the walls. The ac- 
 count which Polybius gives us, is much more 
 probable. He says, that the stones that were 
 thrown by the balistcE made by Archimedes, were 
 of the weight of ten pounds. Livy seems to agree 
 with Polybius. Indeed, if we suppose that Plu- 
 tarch did not mean the talent of 125 pounds, but 
 the talent of Sicily, which some say weighed 25 
 pounds, and others only ten, his account comes 
 more within the bounds of probability. 
 
222 PLUl^ARCH^S LI VPS. 
 
 mathematical Briareus, who sitting on the shore, 
 and acting as it were but in jest, has shamefully 
 baffled our naval assault ; and, in striking us with 
 such a multitude of bolts at once, exceeds even 
 the hundred-handed giants in the fable ? ” And, 
 in truth, all the rest of the Syracusans were no 
 more than the body in the batteries of Archimedes, 
 while he himself was the informing soul. All 
 other weapons lay idle and unemployed ; his were 
 the only offensive and defensive arms of the city. 
 At last the Romans were so terrified, that if they 
 saw but a rope or a stick put over the walls, they 
 cried out that Archimedes was levelling some 
 machine at them, and turned their backs and fled. 
 Marcel lus seeing this, gave up all thoughts of 
 proceeding by assault, and leaving the matter to 
 time, turned the siege into a blockade. 
 
 Yet Archimedes had such a depth of under- 
 standing, such a dignity of sentiment, and so 
 copious a fund of mathematical knowledge, that, 
 though in the invention of these machines he 
 gained the reputation of a man endowed with 
 divine rather than human knowledge, yet he did 
 not vouchsafe to leave any account of them in 
 writing. For he considered all^ attention to 
 rnecha 7 iics, and every art that ministers to com- 
 mon uses, as mean and sordid, and placed his 
 whole delight in those intellectual speculations, 
 which, without any relation to the necessities of 
 life, have an intrinsic excellence arising from 
 truth and demonstration only. Indeed, if me- 
 chanical knowledge is valuable for the curious 
 frame and amazing power of those machines which 
 it produces, the other infinitely excels on account 
 of its invincible force and conviction. And cer- 
 tainly it is, that abstruse and profound questions 
 in geometry, are nowhere solved by a more 
 simple process and upon clearer principles, than 
 in the writings ofi Archimedes. Some ascribe 
 this to the acuteness of his genius, and others to 
 his indefatigable industry, by which he made 
 things that cost a great deal of pains appear un- 
 laboured and easy. In fact, it is almost impossible 
 for a man of himself to find out the demonstration 
 of his propositions, but as soon as he had learned 
 it from him, he will think he could have done it 
 without assistance : such a ready and easy way 
 does he lead us to what he wants to prove. We 
 are not, therefore, to reject as incredible, what is 
 related of him, that being perpetually charmed by 
 a domestic syren, that is, his geometry, he neg- 
 lected his meat and drink, and took no care of his 
 person ; that he was often carried by force to the 
 baths, and when there, he would make mathe- 
 matical figures in the ashes, and with his finger 
 draw lines upon his body, when it was anointed ; 
 so much was he transported^ with intellectual 
 delight, such an enthusiast in science. And 
 though he was the author of many curious and 
 excellent discoveries, yet he is said to have de- 
 sired his friends only to place on his tombstone a 
 cylinder containing a sphere,* and to set down 
 
 the proportion which the containing solid bears to 
 the contained. ^ Such was Archimedes, who ex- 
 erted all his skill to defend himself and the town 
 against the Romans. 
 
 During the siege of Syracuse, Marcellus went 
 against Megara, one of the most ancient cities of 
 Sicily, and took it. He also fell upon Hippo- 
 crates, as he was entrenching himself at Acrillse, 
 and killed above 8000 of his men.* Nay, he over- 
 ran the greatest part of Sicily, brought over several 
 cities from the Carthaginian interest, and beat all 
 that attempted to face him in the field. 
 
 Some time after, when he returned to Syracuse, 
 he surprised one Damippus, a Spartan, as he was 
 sailing out of the harbour ; and the Syracusans 
 being very desirous to ransom him, several con- 
 ferences were held about it ; in one of which 
 Marcellus took notice of a tower but slightly 
 guarded, into which a number of men might be 
 privately conveyed, the wall that led to it, being 
 easy to be scaled. As they often met to confer at 
 the foot of this tower, he made a good estimate of 
 its height, and provided himself with proper scaling 
 ladders : and observing that on the festival of 
 Diana, the_ Syracusans drank freely and gave a 
 loose to mirth, he not only possessed himself of 
 the tower, undiscovered, but before daylight filled 
 the walls of that quarter with soldiers, and forcibly 
 entered the Hexapylum. The Syracusans, as 
 soon as they perceived it, began to move about in 
 great confusion ; but Marcellus ordering ail the 
 trumpets to sound at once, they were seized with 
 consternation, and betook themselves to flight, 
 believing that the whole city was lost. However, 
 the Achradma, which was the strongest, the 
 most extensive, and fairest part of it, was not 
 taken, being divided by walls from the rest of the 
 city, one part of which was called N eapolis, and 
 the other Tyce. The enterprise thus prospering, 
 Marcellus at da^^break moved down from tl.e 
 Flexapylum into the city, where he was con- 
 gratulated by his officers on the great event.! 
 But it is said, that he himself, when he surveyed 
 from an eminence that great and magnificent city. 
 
 of Cicero, which was in the year of Rome 678, 
 136 years were elapsed. ^ Though time had not 
 quite obliterated the cylinder and the sphere, it 
 had put an end, to the learning of Syracuse, once 
 so respectable in the republic of letters. 
 
 * Himilco had entered the port of Heraclea 
 with a numerous fleet sent from Carthage, and 
 landed 20,000 foot, 3000 horse, and twelve ele- 
 phants. His forces were no sooner set ashore, 
 than he marched against Agrigentum, which he 
 retook from the Romans, with several other cities 
 lately reduced by Marcellus. Hereupon, the 
 Syracusan garrison, which was yet entire, deter- 
 mined to send out Hippocrates with 10,000 foot, 
 and 1500 horse, to join Himilco. Marcellus, after 
 having made a vain attempt upon Agrigentum, 
 was returning to Syracuse. As he drew near 
 Acrillse, he unexpectedly discovered Hippocrates 
 busy in fortifying his camp, fell upon him before 
 he had time to draw up his army, and cut 8000 of 
 them in pieces. 
 
 t Epipolae was entered in the night, and Tyche 
 next morning. Epipolae was encompassed with 
 the same wall as Ortygia, Achradina, Tyche, and 
 Neapolis ; had its own citadel called Euryalum 
 on the top of a steep rock, and was, as we may 
 say, a fifth city. 
 
 * Cicero, when he was qusestor in Sicily, dis- 
 covered this monument, and showed it to the 
 Syracusans, who knew not that it was in being. 
 He says there were verses inscribed upon it, ex- 
 pressing that a cylinder and a sphere had been 
 put upon the tomb ; the proportion between which 
 two solids Archimedes first discovered. ^ From 
 the death of this great mathematician, which fell 
 out in the year of Rome 542, to the qusestorship 
 
MARCELLUS. 223 
 
 shed many tears, in pity of its impending fate, re- 
 flecting into what a scene of misery and desolation 
 its fair appearance would be changed, when it 
 came to be sacked and plundered by the soldiers. 
 For the troops demanded the plunder, and not 
 one of the officers durst oppose it. Many even 
 insisted that the city should be burned and levelled 
 with the ground ; but to this Marcellus absolutely 
 refused his consent. It was with reluctance that 
 he gave up the effects and the slaves ; and he 
 strictly charged the soldiers not to touch any free 
 man or woman, not to kill, or abuse, or make a 
 slave of any citizen whatever. 
 
 But though he acted with so much moderation 
 the city had harder measure than he wished, and 
 amidst the great and general joy, his soul sympa- 
 thized with its sufferings, when he considered 
 that in a few hours the prosperity of such a 
 flourishing state would be no more. It is even 
 said, that the plunder of Syracuse was as rich as 
 that of Carthage after it.* For the rest of the 
 
 city was soon betrayed to the Romans, and 
 pillaged : only the royal treasure was preserved, 
 and carried into the public treasury at Rome. 
 
 But what most of all afflicted Marcellus, was 
 the unhappy fate of Archimedes; who was at 
 that time in his study, engaged in some mathe- 
 matical researches ; and his mind, as well as his 
 eye, was so intent upon his diagrajn, that he 
 neither heard the tumultuous noise of the 
 Romans, nor perceived that the city was taken. 
 A soldier suddenly entered his room, and ordered 
 him to follow him to Marcellus ; and Archimedes 
 refusing to do it, till he had finished his problem, 
 and brought his demonstration to bear, the soldier, 
 in a passion, drew his sword and killed him. 
 Others say, the soldier came up to him at first 
 with a drawn sword to kill him, and Archimedes 
 perceiving him, begged he would hold his hand 
 a moment, that he might not leave his theorem 
 imperfect ; but the soldier, neither regarding him 
 nor his theorem, laid him dead at his feet. A 
 third account of the matter is, that, as Archimedes 
 was carrying in a box some mathematical instru- 
 ments to Marcellus, as sundials, spheres, and 
 quadrants, by which the eye might measure the 
 magnitude of the sun, some soldiers met him, and 
 imagining that there was gold in the box, took 
 away his life for it. It is agreed, however, on 
 all hands, that Marcellus was much concerned at 
 his death ; that he turned away his face from his 
 murderer, as from an impious and execrable 
 person ; and that having by inquiry found out 
 his relations, he bestowed upon them many signal 
 favours. 
 
 Hitherto^ the Romans had shown other nations 
 their abilities to plan, and their courage to exe- 
 cute, but they^ had given them no proof of their 
 clemency, their humanity, or, in one word, of 
 their political virtue. Marcellus seems to have 
 been the first who made it appear, to the Greeks, 
 that the Romans had greater regard to equity 
 than they. For such was his goodness to those 
 that addressed him, and so many benefits did he 
 confer upon cities as well as private persons, 
 that if Enna, Megara, and Syracuse were treated 
 
 * The siege of Syracuse lasted in the whole 
 three years ; no small part of which passed after 
 Marcellus entered Tyche. As Plutarch has run 
 so slightly over the subsequent events, it may 
 not be amiss to give a summary detail of them 
 from Livy. 
 
 Epicydes, who had his head quarters in the 
 farthest part of Ortygia, hearing that the Romans 
 had seized on Epipolse and Tyche, went to drive 
 them from their posts : but finding much greater 
 numbers than he expected got into the town, 
 after a slight skirmish he retired. Marcellus, 
 unwilling to destroy the city, tried gentle methods 
 with the inhabitants ; but the Syracusans rejected 
 his proposals ; and their general appointed the 
 Roman deserters to guard Achradina, which they 
 did with extreme care, knowing, that if the town 
 were taken by composition they must die. Mar- 
 cellus then turned his arms against the fortress of 
 Euryalum, which he hoped to reduce in a short 
 time by famine. Philodemus, who commanded 
 there, kept him in play some time, in hope of 
 succours from Hippocrates and Himilco ; but 
 finding himself disappointed, he surrendered the 
 place, on condition of being allowed to march 
 out with his men, and join Epicydes. Marcellus, 
 now master of Euryalum, blocked up Achradina 
 so close, that it could not hold out long without 
 new supplies of men and provisions. But Hip- 
 pocrates and Himilco soon arrived ; and it was 
 resolved that Hippocrates should attack the old 
 camp of the Romans without the walls, com- 
 manded by Crispinus, while Epicydes sallied out 
 upon Marcellus. Hippocrites was vigorously 
 repulsed by Crispinus, who pursued him up to 
 his entrenchments, and Epicydes was forced to 
 return into Achradina with great loss, and nar- 
 rowly escaped being taken prisoner by Marcellus. 
 The unfortunate Syracusans were now in the 
 greatest distress for want of provisions ; and to 
 complete their misery, a plague broke out among 
 them ; of which Himilco and Hippocrates died, 
 with many thousands more. Hereupon, Bomilcar 
 sailed to Carthage again for fresh supplies ; and 
 returned to Sicily with a large fleet ; but hearing 
 of the great preparations of the Romans at sea, 
 and probably fearing the event of a battle, he 
 unexpectedly steered away. Epicydes, who was 
 gone out to meet him, was afraid to return into 
 a city half taken, and therefore fled for refuge to 
 
 Agrigentum. The S3n:acusans then assassinated 
 the governors left by Epicydes, and proposed to 
 submit to Marcellus. For which purpose they 
 sent deputies who were graciously received. But 
 the garrison, which consisted of Roman deserters 
 and mercenaries, raising fresh disturbances, killed 
 the officers appointed by the Syracusans, and chose 
 SIX new ones of their own. Among these was a 
 Spaniard named Mexicus, a man of great integrity, 
 who disapproving of the cruelties of his party, 
 determined to give up the place to Marcellus. In 
 pursuance of which, under pretences of greater 
 care than ordinary, he desired that each governor 
 might have the sole direction in his own quarter ; 
 which gave him an opportunity to open the gate 
 of Arethusa to the Roman general. And now 
 Marcellus being at length become master of the 
 unfaithful city, gave signal proofs of his clemency 
 and good-nature. He suffered the Roman deser- 
 ters to escape ; for he was unwilling to shed the 
 blood even of traitors. No wonder then if he 
 spared the lives of the Syracusans and their 
 children ; though as he told them, the services 
 which good king Hiero had rendered Rome were 
 exceeded by the insults they had offered her in a 
 few years. 
 
224 
 
 PLUT'ARCH'S LIVES, 
 
 1 
 
 harshly, the blame of that severity was rather to 
 be charged on the sufferers themselves, than on 
 those who chastised them. 
 
 I shall mention one of the many instances of 
 this great man’s moderation. There is in Sicily 
 a town called Enguium, not large, indeed, but very 
 ancient, and celebrated for the appearance of the 
 goddesses called the Mothers."^ The temple is 
 said to have been built by the Cretans, and they 
 show some spears and brazen helmets, inscribed 
 with the names of Meriones and Ulysses, who 
 consecrated them to those goddesses. This town 
 was strongly inclined to favour the Carthaginians : 
 but Nicias, one of its principal inhabitants, en- 
 deavoured to persuade them to go over to the 
 Romans, declaring his sentiments freely in their 
 public assemblies, and proving that his opposers 
 consulted not their true interests. These men, 
 fearing his authority and the influence of his 
 character, resolved to carry him off and put him 
 in the hands of the Carthaginians. Nicias, ap- 
 prised of it, took measures for his security, with- 
 out seeming to do so. He publicly gave out 
 unbecoming speeches against the Mothers, as if 
 he disbelieved and made light of the received 
 opinion concerning the presence of _ those^ god- 
 desses there. Meantime, his enemies rejoiced 
 that he himself furnished them with sufficient 
 reasons for the worst they could do to him. On 
 the day which they had fixed for seizing him, 
 there happened to be an assembly of the people, 
 and Nicias was in the midst of them, treating 
 about some public business. But on a sudden 
 he threw himself upon the ground, in the midst 
 of his discourse, and, after having laid there 
 some time without speaking, as if he had been in 
 a trance, he lifted up his head, and turning it 
 round, began to speak with a feeble trembling 
 voice, which he raised by degrees : and when he 
 saw the whole assembly struck dumb with horror, 
 he threw off his mantle, tore his vest in pieces, 
 and ran half naked to one of the doors of the 
 theatre, crying out that he was pursued by the 
 Mothers. From a scruple of religion no one durst 
 touch or stop him; all, therefore, making way, 
 he reached one of the city gates, though he no 
 longer used any word or action, like one that was 
 heaven-struck and distracted. His wife, who 
 was in the secret, and assisted in the stratagem, 
 took her children, and went and prostrated her- 
 self as a supplicant before the altar of the god' 
 desses. Then pretending that she was going to 
 seek her husband, who was wandering about in 
 the fields, she met with no opposition, but got 
 safe out of town ; and so both of them escaped 
 to Marcellus at Syracuse. The people of Enguium 
 added many other insults and misdemeanours to 
 their past faults. Marcellus came, and had them 
 loaded with irons, in order to punish them. But 
 Nicias approached him with tears in his eyes, and 
 kissing his hands and enibracing his knees, asked 
 pardon for all the citizens, and for Kis enemies 
 first. Hereupon Marcellus, relenting, set them 
 all at liberty, and suffered not his troops to com- 
 mit the least disorder in the city ; at the same 
 time he bestowed on Nicias a large tract of 
 land and many rich gifts. These particulars 
 we learn from Posidonius the philosopher. 
 
 * These are supposed to_be Cybele, Juno, and 
 Ceres. Cicero mentions a temple of Cybele at 
 Enguium. 
 
 Marcellus,’^ after this, being called home to a 
 war in the heart of Italy, carried with him the 
 most valuable of the statues and paintings in 
 Syracuse, that they might embellish his triumph, 
 and be an ornament to Rome. For before this 
 time, that city neither had nor knew any curi- 
 osities of this kind ; being a stranger to the 
 charms of taste and elegance. Full of arms taken 
 from barbarous nations, and of blood}^ spoils, and 
 crowned as she was with trophies and other 
 monuments of her triumphs, she afforded not 
 a cheerful and pleasing spectacle, fit for men 
 brought up in ease and luxury, but her look was 
 awful and severe. And as Epaminondas calls the 
 plains of Boeotia the orchestra, or stage of Mars, 
 and Xenophon says Ephesus was the arsenal of 
 war, so, in my opinion (to use the expression of 
 Pindar), one might then have styled Rome the 
 temple offrownvig MARS. 
 
 Thus Marcellus was more acceptable to the 
 people, because he adorned the city with curi- 
 osities in the Grecian taste, whose variety, as 
 well as elegance, was very agreeable to the 
 spectator. But the graver citizens preferred 
 Fabius Maximus, who, when he took Tarentum, 
 brought nothing of that kind away. The monej’-, 
 indeed, and other rich movables he carried off, 
 but he let the statues and pictures remain, using 
 this memorable expression : “ Let us leave the 
 Tarentines their angry deities.” They blamed 
 the proceedings of Marcellus, in the first place, 
 as very invidious for Rome, because he had led 
 not only men, but the very gods in triumph ; and 
 their next charge was, that he had spoiled a 
 people inured to agriculture and war, wholly 
 unacquainted with luxury and sloth, and, as 
 Euripides says of Hercules — 
 
 In vice untaught, but skill’d where glory led 
 
 To arduous enterprise, 
 
 by furnishing them with an occasion of idleness 
 and vain discourse ; for they now began to spend 
 great part of the day in disputing about arts and 
 artists. But notwithstanding such censures, this 
 was the very thing that Marcellus valued himself 
 upon, even to the Greeks themselves, that he was 
 the first who taught the Romans to esteem and 
 to admire the exquisite performances of Greece, 
 which were hitherto unknown to them. 
 
 Finding, at his return, that his enemies opposed 
 his triumph, and considering that the war was 
 not quite finished in Sicily, as well as that a third 
 triumph might expose him^ to the envy of his 
 fellow-citizens, he so far yielded as to content 
 himself with leading up the greater triumph on 
 Mount Alba, and entering Rome with the less. 
 The less is called by the Greeks evan, and by the 
 Romans an ovation. In this the general does 
 not ride in a triumphal chariot drawn by four 
 horses ; he is not crowned with laurel, nor has he 
 trumpets sounding before him, but he walks in 
 sandals, attended with the music of many flutes, 
 and wearing a crown of myrtle ; his appearance, 
 therefore, having nothing in it warlike, is rather 
 pleasing than formidable. This is to me 2l plain 
 proof, that triumphs of old were distinguished, 
 not by the importance of the achievement, but by 
 
 _ * Marcellus, before he left Sicily, gained a con- 
 siderable victory over Epicydes and Hanno ; he 
 slew great numbers, and took many prisoners, 
 beside eight elephants. Liv. lib. xxv. 40. 
 
MARCELLUS, 
 
 the manner of its performance. _ For those that 
 subdued their enemies, by fighting battles ^d 
 spilling much blood, entered v/ith that warlike 
 and dreadful pomp of the greater triumph, and, 
 as is customary in the lustration of an army, wore 
 crowns of laurel, and adorned them arms with the 
 same. But when a general, without fighting, 
 gained his point by treaty and the force of per- 
 suasion, the law decreed him this honour, called 
 Ovation, which had more the appearance of a 
 festival than of war. For the flute is an instru- 
 ment used in time of peace ; and the myrtle is 
 the tree of Venus, who, of all the deities, is most 
 averse to violence and war. 
 
 Now the term ovation is not derived (as most 
 authors think) from the word evan, which is 
 uttered in shouts of joy, for they have the same 
 shouts and songs in the other triumph ; but the 
 Greeks have wrested it to a word well Imown in 
 their language, believing that this procession is 
 intended in some m.easure in honour of Bacchus, 
 whom they call Evuts and Thriambus. The 
 truth of the matter is this : it was customary for 
 the generals, in the greater triumphs, to sacrifice 
 an ox; and in the less a sheep, in Latin oyis, 
 whence the word ovation. On this occasion it is 
 worth our while to observe, how different the 
 institutions of the Spartan legislator were from 
 those of the Roman, vuth respect to sacrifices. 
 In Sparta, the general who put a period to a war 
 by policy or persuasion, sacrificed a bullock ; but 
 he whose success was owing to force of arms, 
 offered only a cock. For though they were a 
 very warlike people, they thought it more honour- 
 able, and more worthy of a human being, to 
 succeed by eloquence and wisdom, than by 
 courage and force. But this point I leave to be 
 considered by the reader. 
 
 ^ When Marcellus was chosen consul the fourth 
 time, the Syracusans, at the instigation of his 
 enemies, came to Rome to accuse him, and to 
 complain to the senate, that he had treated them 
 in a cruel manner, and contrary to the faith of 
 treaties.* It happened that Marcellus was at 
 that time in the Capitol, offering sacrifice. The 
 Syracusan deputies went immediately to the 
 senate, who were yet sitting, and falling on their 
 knees, begged of them to hear their complaints, 
 and to do them justice : but the other consul 
 repulsed them with indignation, because Mar- 
 cellus was not there to defend himself. Marcellus, 
 however, being informed of it, came with all 
 possible expedition, and having seated himself 
 in his chair of state, first despatched some public 
 business as consul. When that was over, he 
 came down from his seat, and went as a private 
 person to the place appointed for the accused to 
 make their defence in, giving the Syracusans 
 opportunity to make good their charge. But 
 they were greatly confounded to see the dignity 
 and unconcern with which he behaved ; and he 
 who had been irresistible in arms, was still more 
 awful and terrible to behold in his robe of purple. 
 Nevertheless, encouraged by his enemies, they 
 
 * The Syracusans were scarce arrived at Rome, 
 before the consuls drew lots for their provinces, 
 and Sicily fell to Marcellus. This was a great 
 stroke to the Syracusan deputies, and they would 
 not have dared to prosecute their charge, had 
 not Marcellus voluntarily offered to change the 
 provinces. 
 
 opened the accusation in a speech, mingled with 
 lamentations, the sum of which was, that, though 
 friends and allies of Rome, they had suffered 
 more damage from Marcellus, than some other 
 generals had permitted to be done to a conquered 
 enemy. To this, Marcellus made answer,* that, 
 notwithstanding the many instances of their 
 criminal behaviour to the Romans, they had 
 suffered nothing but what it is impossible to 
 prevent, when a city is taken by storm ; and that 
 Syracuse was so taken, was entirely their own 
 fault, because he had often summoned it to 
 surrender, and they refused to listen to him. 
 That, in short, they were not forced by their 
 tyrants to commit hostilities, but they had them- 
 selves set up tyrants for the sake of going to war. 
 
 The reasons of both sides thus heard, the 
 Syracusans, according to the custom in that case, 
 withdrew, and Marcellus went out with them, 
 leaving it to his colleague to collect the votes. 
 While he stood at the door of the senate-house, t 
 he was neither moved with the fear of the issue of 
 the cause, nor with resentment against the Syra- 
 cusans, so as to change his usual deportment, 
 but with great mildness and decorum he waited 
 for the event. When the cause was decided, and 
 he was declared to have gained it, I the Syracusans 
 fell at his feet, and besought him with tears to 
 pardon not only those that were present, but to 
 take compassion on the rest of their citizens, who 
 would ever acknowledge with gratitude the 
 favour. Marcellus, moved with their entreaties, 
 not only pardoned the deputies, but continued his 
 protection to the other Syracusans ; and the 
 senate, approving the privileges he had granted, 
 confirmed to them their liberty, their laws, and 
 the possessions that remained to them. For this 
 reason, beside other signal honours with which 
 they distinguished Marcellus, they made a law, 
 that whenever he or any of his descendants 
 entered Sicily, the Syracusans should wear 
 garlands, and offer sacrifices to the gods. 
 
 After this, Marcellus marched against Hannibal. 
 And though almost all the other consuls and 
 generals, after the defeat at Cannae, availed them- 
 selves of the single art of avoiding an engage- 
 ment with the Carthaginian, and not one of them 
 durst meet him fairly in the field, Marcellus took 
 quite a different course. He was of opinion, that 
 instead of Hannibal’s being worn out by length 
 of time, the strength of Italy would be insensibly 
 wasted by him ; and that the slow cautious 
 
 * When the Syracusans had finished their 
 accusations against Marcellus, his colleague, 
 Lasvinus, ordered them to withdraw ; but Mar- 
 cellus desired they might stay and hear his 
 defence. 
 
 t While the cause was debating, he went to 
 the capitol, to take the names of the new levies. 
 
 t The conduct of Marcellus, on the taking of 
 Syracuse, was not entirely approved of at Rome. 
 Some of the senators remembering the attach- 
 ment which king Hiero had on all occasions 
 shown to their republic, could not help condemn- 
 ing their general for giving up the city to be 
 plundered by his rapacious soldiers. The Syra- 
 cusans w'ere not in a condition to make good 
 their party against an army of mercenaries ; and 
 therefore were obliged against their will to yield 
 to the times, and obey the ministers of Hannibal, 
 who commanded the army. 
 
 Q 
 
226 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LI VPS. 
 
 maxims of Fabius were not fit to cure the malady 
 of his country ; since, by pursuing them, the 
 flames of war could not be extinguished, until 
 Italy was consumed : just as timorous physicians 
 neglect to apply strong, though necessary reme- 
 dies, thinking the distemper will abate with the 
 strength of the patient. 
 
 In the first place, he recovered the best towns 
 of the Samnites, which had revolted. In them 
 he found considerable magazines of corn and a 
 great quantity of money, beside making 3000 of 
 Hannibal’s men, who garrisoned them, prisoners. 
 In the next place, when Cneius Fulvius the 
 proconsul, with eleven tribunes, was slain, and 
 great part of his army cut in pieces, by Hannibal 
 in Apulia, Marcellus sent letters to Rome, to 
 exhort the citizens to be of good courage, for he 
 himself was on his march to drive Hannibal out 
 of the country. The reading of these letters, 
 Livy tells us, was so far from removing their 
 grief, that it added terror to it, the Romans 
 reckoning the present danger as much greater 
 than the past, as Marcellus was a greater man 
 than Fulvius. 
 
 Marcellus then going in quest of Hannibal, 
 according to his promise, entered Lucania, and 
 found him encamped on inaccessible heights 
 near the city of Numistro. Marcellus himself 
 pitched his tents on the plain, and the next day, 
 was the first to draw up his forces in order of 
 battle. Hannibal declined not the combat, but 
 ucscenaed trora tne hills, and a battle ensued, 
 which was not decisive indeed, but great and 
 bloody : for though the action began at the third 
 hour, it was with difficulty that night put a stop 
 to it. Next morning, by break of day, Marcellus 
 again drew up his army, and posting it among 
 the dead bodies, challenged Hannibal to dispute 
 it with him for the victory. But Hannibal chose to 
 draw off ; and Marcellus, after he had gathered 
 the spoils of the enemy, and buried his own dead, 
 marched in pursuit of him. Though the Cartha- 
 ginian laid many snares for him, he escaped them 
 all ; and having the advantage too in all skir- 
 mishes, his success was looked upon with admi- 
 ration. Therefore, when the time of the next 
 election came on, the senate thought proper to 
 call the other consul out of Sicily, rather than 
 draw oflf Marcellus, who was grappling with 
 Hannibal. When he was arrived, they ordered 
 him to declare Quintus Fulvius dictator. For a 
 Dictator is not named either by the people or 
 the senate, but one of the consuls or prsetors, 
 advancing into the .assembly, names whom he 
 pleases. Hence some think, the term Dictator 
 comes from dicere^ which in Latin signifies to 
 na 77 ie : but others assert, that the Dictator xs, so 
 called, because he refers nothing to plurality of 
 voices in the senate, or to the suffrages of the 
 people, but gives his orders at his^ own pleasure. 
 For the orders of magistrates, which the Greeks 
 call diatagmata^ the Romans call edicta^ edicts. 
 
 The colleague * of Marcellus was disposed to 
 appoint another person dictator, and that he 
 
 * Laevinus, who was the colleague of Marcellus, 
 wanted to name M. Valerius Messala dictator. 
 As he left Rome abruptly, and enjoined the 
 praetor not to name Fulvius, the tribunes of the 
 people took upon them to do it, and the senate 
 got the nomination confirmed by the consul 
 Marcellus. 
 
 might not be obliged to depart from his own 
 opinion, he left Rome by night, and sailed back 
 to Sicily. The people, therefore, named Quintus 
 Fulvius dictator, and the senate wrote to Mar- 
 cellus to confirm the nomination, which he did 
 accordingly. 
 
 Marcellus was appointed proconsul for the year 
 following : and having agreed with Fabius 
 
 Maximus the consul by letters, that Fabius 
 should besiege Tarentum, while himself was to 
 watch the motions of Hannibal, and prevent his 
 relieving the place, he marched after him with . 
 all diligence, and came up with him at Canusium. 
 And as Hannibal shifted his camp continually, to 
 avoid coming to a battle, Marcellus watched him 
 closely, and took care to keep him in sight. At 
 last, coming up with him as he was encamping, 
 he so harassed him with skirmishes, that he 
 drew him to an engagement ; but night soon 
 came on, and parted the combatants. Next 
 morning early, he drew his army out of the 
 entrenchments, and put them in order of battle ; 
 so that Hannibal, in great vexation, assembled 
 the Carthaginians, and begged of them to exert 
 themselves more in that battle than ever they had 
 done before. “ For you see,” said he, “ that we 
 can neither take breath, after so many victories 
 already gained, nor enjoy the least leisure if we 
 are victorious now, unless this man be driven off.” 
 
 After this, a battle ensued, in which Marcellus 
 seems to have miscarried by an unseasonable 
 movement.* For seeing his right wing hard 
 pressed, he ordered one of the legions to advance 
 to the front to support them. This movement put 
 the whole army in disorder, and decided the day 
 in favour of the enemy ; 2700 Romans being slain 
 upon the spot. Marcellus retreated into his 
 camp, and having summoned his troops together, 
 told them he saw the arms and bodies of Romans 
 in abundance before him, but not one Roman. 
 
 On their begging pardon, he said he would not 
 forgive them while vanquished, but when they 
 came to be victorious he would : and that he 
 would lead them into the field again the next day, 
 that the news of the victory might reach Rome 
 before that of their flight. Before he dismissed 
 them, he gave orders that barley should be 
 measured out, instead of wheat,! to those com- 
 panies that had turned their backs. His repri- 
 mand made such an impression on them, that 
 though many were dangerously wounded, there 
 was not a man who did not feel more pain from 
 the words of Marcellus, than he did from his 
 wounds. 
 
 Next morning, the scarlet robe, which was the 
 ordinary signal of battle, was hung out betimes ; 
 and the companies that had come off with dis- 
 honour before, obtained leave, at their earnest ] 
 request, to be posted in the foremost line : after j 
 which the tribunes drew up the rest of the troops 
 
 * The movement was not unseasonable, but 
 ill executed. Livy says, the right wing gave 
 way faster than they needed to have done, and 
 the eighteenth legion, which was ordered to 
 advance from rear to front, moved too slowly ; 
 this occasioned the disorder. 
 
 t This was a common punishment. Besides 
 which, he ordered that the officers of those 
 companies should continue all day long with their 
 swords drawn, and without their girdles. Liv. 
 xxvii. 13. 
 
MARCELLUS. 
 
 227 
 
 in their proper order. When this was reported 
 to Hannibal, he said, Ye gods, what can one 
 do with a man, who is not affected with either 
 good or bad fortune ? This is the only man who 
 will neither give any time to rest when he is 
 victorious, nor take any when he is beaten. We 
 must even resolve to fight with him for ever; 
 since, whether prosperous or unsuccessful, a prin- 
 ciple of honour leads him on to new attempts and 
 farther exertions of courage.” 
 
 Both armies then engaged, and Hannibal seeing 
 no advantage gained by either, ordered his ele- 
 phants to be brought forward into the first line, 
 and to be pushed against the Romans. The shock 
 caused great confusion at first in the Roman 
 front ; but Flavius, a tribune, snatching an 
 ensign-stafif from one of the companies, advanced, 
 and with the point of it wounded the foremost 
 elephant. The beast upon this turned back, and 
 ran upon the second, the second upon the next 
 that followed, and so on till they were all put in 
 great disorder, hlarcellus observing this, ordered 
 his horse to fall furiously upon the enemy, and 
 taking advantge of the confusion already made, 
 to rout them entirely. Accordingly, they charged 
 with extraordinary vigour, and drove the Cartha- 
 ginians to their entrenchments. The slaughter 
 was dreadful ; and the fall of the killed, and the 
 plunging of the wounded elephants, contributed 
 greatly to it. It is said that more than 8000 
 Carthaginians fell in this battle ; of the Romans 
 not above 3000 were slain, but almost all the rest 
 were wounded. This gave Hannibal opportunity 
 to decamp silently in the night, and remove to a 
 great distance from IMarcellus, who, by reason of 
 the number of his wounded, was not able to 
 pursue him, but retired, by easy marches, into 
 Campania, and passed the summer in the city of 
 Sinuessa,* *^ to recover and refresh his soldiers. 
 
 Hannibal, thus disengaged from hlarcellus, 
 made use of his troops, now at libert3^ and 
 securely overran the country, burning and de- 
 stroying all before him. This gave occasion to 
 unfavourable reports of Marcellus at Rome ; and 
 his enemies incited Publius Bibulus, one of the 
 tribunes of the people, a man of violent temper, 
 and a vehement speaker, to accuse him in form! 
 Accordingly Bibulus often assembled the people, 
 and endeavoured to persuade them to take the 
 conimand from him, and give it to another ; 
 
 Since IMarcellus, said he, ** has only exchanged 
 a few thrusts with Hannibal, and then left "the 
 stage, and is gone to the hot baths to refresh 
 himself.” t 
 
 When Marcellus was apprised of these practices 
 against him, he left his army in charge with his 
 heutenants, and \vent to Rome to make his de- 
 lence. On his arrival, he found an impeachment 
 framed out of those calumnies. And the day 
 fixed for it being come, and the people assembled 
 the Flaminian Circus, Bibulus ascended the 
 tribunes seat and set forth his charge. Mar- 
 
 * Livy says in Venusia, which, being much 
 nearer Canusium, was more convenient for the 
 wounded men to retire to. 
 t There \vere hot baths near Sinue.ssa, but none 
 
 * onusia. Therefore, if hlarcellus went to 
 
 the latter place this satirical stroke was not 
 applicable. Accordingly Livy does not apply it ; 
 he only makes Bibulus say, that Marcellus paLed 
 the summer in quarters. 
 
 celluss answer was plain and short; but many 
 persons of distinction among the citizens exerted 
 themselves greatly, and spoke with much freedom, 
 exhorting the people not to judge worse of Mar- 
 cellus than the enemy himself had done, by fixing 
 a mark of cowardice upon the only general whom 
 Hannibal shunned, and used as much art and 
 care to avoid fighting with, as he did to seek the 
 cornbat with others These remonstrances had 
 such an effect, that the accuser was totally dis- 
 appointed in his expectations ; for Marcellus was 
 not only acquitted of the charge, but a fifth time 
 chosen consul. 
 
 _ As soon as he had entered upon his office, he 
 visited the cities of Tuscany, and by his personal 
 mhuence allayed a dangerous commotion, that 
 tended to a revolt. At his return, he was desirous 
 to dedicate to Honour and Virtue the temple 
 which he had built out of the Sicilian spoils, but 
 was opposed by the priests, who would not con- 
 sent that two deities should be contained in one 
 temple. ^ Taking this opposition ill, and con- 
 SK^nng it as ominous, he began another temple 
 Ihere were many other prodigies that gave 
 nun uneasiness. Some temples were struck wdth 
 Jupiter rats gnawpd the 
 gold ; It was even reported that an ox spoke, and 
 that there was a child living which was born with 
 an elephant s head : and when the expiation of 
 these prodigies was attempted, there were no 
 tokens of success. The At^gurs, therefore, kept 
 him m Rome, notwithstanding his impatience 
 and eagerness to be gone. For never was man 
 so passionately desirous of anything as he was of 
 fighting a decisive battle with Hannibal. It was 
 his dreain by night, the subject of conversation 
 all day with his friends and colleagues, and his 
 sole request to the gods, that he might meet 
 Hannibal fairly m the field. Nay, I verily 
 believe, he would have been glad to have had 
 both armies surrounded with a wall or intrench- 
 ment, and to have fought in that enclosure. In- 
 deed, had he not already attained to such a height 
 of glo^, had he not given so many proofs of his 
 equalling the best generals in prudence and dis- 
 cretion, I should think he gave way to a sanguine 
 and extravagant ambition, unsuitable to his years ; 
 for he was above sixty when he entered upon his 
 fifth consulate. 
 
 At last, the expiatory sacrifices being such as 
 the soothsayers approved, he set out, with his 
 colleague, to prosecute the war, and fixed his 
 camp between Bantia and Venusia. There he 
 tried every method to provoke Hannibal to a 
 battle, which he constantly declined. But the 
 C^thapnian perceiving that the consuls had 
 ordered some troops to go and lay siege to the 
 city of the Epizephyria^is, or western Locrians,t 
 
 * They said, if the temple should be struck 
 with thunder and lightning, or any other prodigy 
 should happen to it that wanted expiation, they 
 should not know to which of the deities they 
 ought to offer the expiatory sacrifice. Marcellus, 
 therefore, to satisfy the priests, began another 
 temple, and the work was carried on with great 
 diligence ; but he did not live to dedicate it. 
 His son consecrated both the temples about four 
 years after. 
 
 t This was not a detachment from the forces of 
 the consuls, which they did not choose to weaken 
 when in the sight of such an enemy as Hannibal. 
 
225 
 
 PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 he laid an ambuscade on their way, under the 
 hill of Petelia, and killed 2500 of them. This 
 added stings to Marcellus’s desire of an engage- 
 ment, and made him draw nearer to the enemy. 
 
 Between the two armies was a hill, which 
 afforded a pretty strong post ; it was covered with 
 thickets, and on both sides were hollows, from 
 whence issued springs and rivulets. The Romans 
 were surprised that Hannibal, who came first to 
 so advantageous a place, did not take possession 
 of it, but left it for the enemy. He did, indeed, 
 think it a good place for a camp, but a better for 
 an ambuscade, and to that use he chose to put 
 it. He filled, therefore, the thickets and hollows 
 with a good number of archers and spearmen, 
 assuring himself that the convenience of the post 
 would draw the Romans to it. Nor was he 
 mistaken in his conjecture. Presently nothing 
 was talked of in the Roman army, but the ex- 
 pediency of seizing this hill ; and, as if they had 
 been all generals, they set forth the many advan- 
 tages they should have over the enemy, by en- 
 camping, or, at least, raising a fortification upon 
 it. Thus Marcellus was induced to go with a few 
 horse to take a view of the hill ; but, before he 
 went, he offered sacrifice. In the first victim 
 that was slain, the diviner showed him the liver 
 without a head ; in the second, the head was very 
 plump and large, and the other tokens appearing 
 remarkably good, seemed sufficient to dispel the 
 fears of the first ; but the diviners declared, they 
 were the more alarmed on that very account ; 
 for when' favourable signs on a sudden follow 
 threatening and inauspicious ones, the strangeness 
 of the alteration should rather be suspected. But 
 as Pindar says — 
 
 N or fire, nor walls of triple brass 
 Control the high behests of Fate. 
 
 He therefore set out to view the place, taking 
 with him his colleague Crispinus, his son Mar- 
 cellus, who was a tribune, and only 220 horse, 
 among whom there was not one Roman ; they 
 were all Tuscans, except forty Fregellanians, of 
 whose courage and fidelity he had sufficient ex- 
 perience. On the summit of the hill, which,' as 
 we said before, was covered with trees and 
 bushes, the enemy had placed a sentinel, who, 
 without being seen himself, could see every 
 movement in the Roman camp. Those that lay 
 in ambush having intelligence from him of what 
 was doing, lay close till Marcellus came very 
 near, and then all at once rushed out, spread 
 themselves about him, let fly a shower of arrows, 
 and charged him with their swords and spears. 
 Some pursued the fugitives, and others attacked 
 those that stood their ground. The latter were 
 the forty Fregellanians ; for, the Tuscans taking 
 to flight at the first charge, the others closed 
 together in a body to defend the consuls : and 
 they continued the fight till Crispinus, wounded 
 with two arrows, turned his horse to make his 
 escape, and Marcellus being run through be- 
 tween the shoulders with a lance, fell down dead. 
 Then the few Fregellanians that remained, leav- 
 ing the body of Marcellus, carried off his son, 
 who was wounded, and fled with him to the 
 camp. 
 
 In this skirmish there were not many more than 
 
 It consisted of troops drawn from Sicily, and from 
 the garrison of Tarentum. 
 
 forty men killed ; eighteen were taken prisoners, 
 besides five lictors. Crispinus died of his wounds 
 a few days after.* This was a most unparalleled 
 misfortune ; the Romans lost both the consuls in 
 one action. 
 
 Hannibal made but little account of the rest, 
 but when he knew that Marcellus was killed, he 
 hastened to the place, and, standing over the 
 body a long time, surveyed its size and mien ; 
 but without speaking one insulting word, or 
 showing the least sign of joy, which might have 
 been expected at the fall of so dangerous and 
 formidable an enemy. He stood, indeed, awhile 
 astonished at the strange death _ of so great a 
 man ; and at last taking his signet from his 
 finger,! he caused his body to be magnificently 
 att.red and burned, and the ashes to be put in a 
 silver urn, and then placed a crown of gold upon 
 it, and sent it to his son. But certain Numidians 
 meeting those that carried the urn, attempted to 
 take it from them, and as the others stood upon 
 their guard to defend it, the ashes were scattered 
 in the struggle. When Hannibal was informed 
 of it, he said to those who were about him, “You 
 see it is impossible to do anything against the 
 will of God.” He punished the Numidians, in- 
 deed, but took no farther care about collecting 
 and sending the remains of Marcellus, believing 
 that some deity had ordained that Marcellus 
 should die in so strange a manner, and that his 
 ashes should be denied burial. This account of 
 the matter we have from Cornelius Nepos and 
 Valerius Maximus ; but Livy J and Augustus 
 Caesar affirm, that the urn was carried to his son, 
 and that his remains were interred with great 
 magnificence. 
 
 Marcellus’s public donations, besides those he 
 dedicated at Rome, were a Gymnasium, which 
 he built at Catata in Sicily ; and several statues 
 and paintings, brought from Syracuse, which he 
 set up in the temple of the Cabiri in Samothrace, 
 and in that of Minerva at Lindus. In the latter 
 of these, the following verses, as Posidonius tells 
 us, were inscribed on the pedestal of his statue ; 
 
 The light of Rome, Marcellus here behold, ^ 
 
 For birth, for deeds of arms, by fame enroll’d. _ 
 Seven times his fasces graced the martial plain. 
 And by his thundering arm were thousands slain. 
 
 * He did not die till the latter end of the year, 
 having named T. Manlius Torquatus, dictator, 
 to hold the comitia. Some say he died at 
 Tarentum ; others in Capania. 
 
 t Hannibal imagined he should have some 
 opportunity or other of making use of this seal to 
 his advantage. But Crispinus despatched mes- 
 sengers to all the neighbouring cities, in the 
 interest of Rome, acquainting them that Mar- 
 cellus was killed, and Hannibal master of his 
 ring. This precaution preserved Salapia, in 
 Apulia. Nay, the inhabitants turned the artifice 
 of the Carthaginian upon himself. For admitting, 
 upon a letter sealed with that ring, 600 of 
 Hannibal’s men, most of them Roman deserters, 
 into the town, they on a sudden pulled up the 
 draw-bridges, cut in pieces those who had 
 entered, and, with a shower of darts from the 
 ramparts, drove back the rest. Liv. 1 . xxvii. 
 c. 28. 
 
 X Livy tells us, that Hannibal buried the body 
 of Marcellus on the hill where he was slain. 
 
FELOFIBAS AND MARCELLUS COMFARED. 
 
 229 
 
 The author of this inscription adds to his five 
 consulates the dignity of proconsul, with which 
 he was twice honoured. His posterity continued 
 in great splendour down to Marcellus, the son of 
 Caius Marcellus and Octavia the sister of Augus- 
 tus.* He died very young, in the office of cedile^ 
 
 * His family continued after his death a 
 hundred and eighty-five years ; for he was slain 
 in the first year of the hundred and forty-third 
 olympiad, in the five hundred and forty-fifth year 
 of Rome, and two hundred and six years before 
 
 soon after he had married Julia, the emperor’s 
 daughter. To do honour to his memory, Octavia 
 dedicated to him a library,! and Augustus a 
 theatre, and both these public works bore his 
 name. 
 
 the Christian era : and young Marcellus died in 
 the second year of the hundred and eighty-ninth 
 olympiad, and seven hundred and thirtieth of 
 Rome. 
 
 *}• According to Seutonius and Dion, it was not 
 Octavia but Augustus that dedicated this library. 
 
 PELOPIDAS AND MARCELLUS COMPARED. 
 
 These are the particulars which we thought 
 worth reciting from history concerning Marcellus 
 and Pelopidas ; between whom there was a perfect 
 resemblance in the gifts of nature, and in their 
 lives and manners. For they were both men of 
 heroic strength, capable of enduring the greatest 
 fatigue, and in courage and magnanimity they 
 were equal. The sole difference is, that Mar- 
 cellus, in most of the cities which he took by 
 assault, committed great slaughter, whereas Epa- 
 minondas and Pelopidas never spilt the blood of 
 any man they had conquered, nor enslaved any 
 city they had taken. And it is affirmed, that if 
 they had been present, the Thebans would not 
 have deprived the Orchomenians of their liberty. 
 
 As to their achievements, among those of Mar- 
 cellus there was none greater or more illustrious 
 than his beating such an army of Gauls, both 
 horse and foot, with a handful of horse only, of 
 which you will scarce meet with another instance, 
 and his slaying their prince with his own hand. 
 Pelopidas hoped to have done something of the 
 like nature, but miscarried, and lost his life in 
 the attempt. However, the great and glorious 
 battles of Leuctra and Tegyrse may be compared 
 with these exploits of Marcellus. And, on the 
 other hand, there is nothing of Marcellus’s effected 
 by stratagem and surprise, which can be set 
 against the happy management of Pelopidas, at 
 his return from exile, in taking off the Theban 
 tyrants. Indeed, of all the enterprises of the 
 secret hand of art, that was the masterpiece. 
 
 If it be said that Hannibal was a formidable 
 enemy to the Romans, the Lacedaemonians were 
 certainly the same to the Thebans. And yet it is 
 agreed on all hands, that they were thoroughly 
 beaten by Pelopidas, at Leuctra and Tegyrae ; 
 whereas, according to Polybius, Hannibal was 
 never pnce defeated by Marcellus, but continued 
 invincible till he had to do with Scipio. How- 
 ever, we rather believe with Livy, Caesar, and 
 Cornelius Nepos, among the Latin historians, 
 and with king JubaJ among the Greek, that 
 Marcellus did sometimes beat Hannibal, and 
 even put his troops to flight, though he gained 
 no advantage of him sufficient to turn the balance 
 considerably on his side : so that one might even 
 
 X This historian was the son of Juba, king of 
 Numidia, who, in the civil war, sided with 
 Pompey, and was slain by Petreius in single 
 combat. The son, mentioned here, was brought 
 in triumph by Caesar to Rome, where he was 
 educated in the learning of the Greeks and 
 Romans. 
 
 think, that the Carthaginian then acted with the 
 art of a wrestler, who sometimes suffers himself 
 to be thrown. But what has been very justly 
 admired in Marcellus is, that, after such great 
 armies had been routed, so many generals slain, 
 and the whole empire almost totally subverted, 
 he found means to inspire his troops with courage 
 enough to make head against the enemy. He 
 was the only man that from a state of terror and 
 dismay, in which they had long remained, raised 
 the army to an eagerness for battle, and infused 
 into them such a spirit, that, far from tamely 
 giving up the victory, they disputed it with the 
 greatest obstinacy. For those very men, who 
 had been accustomed by a run of ill success to 
 think themselves happy if they could escape 
 Hannibal by flight, were taught by Marcellus to 
 be ashamed of coming off with disadvantage, to 
 blush at the very thought of giving way, and 
 to be sensibly afected if they gained not the 
 victory. 
 
 As Pelopidas never lost a battle in which he 
 commanded in person, and Marcellus won more 
 than any Roman of his time, he who performed 
 so many exploits, and was so hard to conquer, 
 may, perhaps, be put on a level with the other, 
 who was never beaten. On the other hand, it 
 may be observed, that Marcellus took Syracuse, 
 whereas Pelopidas failed in his attempt upon 
 Sparta. Yet, I think, even to approach Sparta, 
 and to be the first that ever passed the Eurotas 
 in a hostile manner, was a greater achievement 
 than the conquest of Sicily ; unless it may be 
 said, that the honour of this exploit, as well as 
 that of Leuctra, belongs rather to Epaminondas 
 than to Pelopidas, whereas the glory Marcellus 
 gained was entirely his own. For he alone took 
 Syracuse : he defeated the Gauls without his 
 colleague ; he made head against Hannibal, not 
 only without the assistance, but against the 
 remonstrances, of the other generals ; and, 
 changing the face of war, he first taught the 
 Romans to meet the enemy with a good coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 As for their deaths, I praise neither the one 
 nor the other, but it is with concern and indigna- 
 tion that I think of the strange circumstances 
 that attended them. At the same time I admire 
 Hannibal, who fought such a number of battles 
 as it would be a labour to reckon, without ever 
 receiving a wound : and I greatly approve the 
 behaviour of Chrysantes, in the Cyropcedia, who 
 having his sword lifted up and ready to strike, 
 upon hearing the trumpets sound a retreat, calmly 
 and modestly retired without giving the stroke. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 Pelopidas, however, was somewhat excusable, 
 because he was not only warmed with the heat 
 of battle, but incited by a generous desire of 
 revenge. And, as Euripides says — 
 
 The first of chiefs is he who laurels gains. 
 
 And buys them not with life : the next is he 
 Who dies, but dies in Virtue’s arms. 
 
 In such a man, dying is a free and voluntary 
 act, not a passive submission to fate. But beside 
 his resentment, the end Pelopidas proposed to 
 himself in conquering, which was the death of 
 a tyrant, with reason animated him to uncommon 
 efforts ; for it was not easy to find another cause 
 so great and glorious wherein to exert himself. 
 But Marcellus, without any urgent occasion, 
 without that enthusiasm which often pushes men 
 beyond the bounds of reason in time of danger, 
 unadvisedly exposed himself, and died not like 
 a general, but like a spy ; risking his five con- 
 sulates, his three triumphs, his trophies _ and 
 spoils of kings against a company of Spaniards 
 and Numidians, who had bartered with the 
 Carthaginians for their lives and services. An 
 
 accident so strange, that those very adventurers 
 could not forbear grudging themselves such suc- 
 cess, when they found that a man the most dis- 
 tinguished of all the Romans for valour, as well 
 as power and fame, had fallen by their hands, 
 amidst a scouting party of Fregellanians. 
 
 Let not this, however, be deemed an accusation 
 against these great men, but rather a complaint 
 to them of injury done themselves, by sacrificing 
 all their other virtues to their intrepidity, and a 
 free expostulation with them for being so prodigal 
 of their blood as to shed it for their own sakes, 
 when it ought to have fallen only for their country, 
 their friends, and their allies. 
 
 Pelopidas was buried by his friends, in whose 
 cause he was slain, and Marcellus by those 
 enemies that slew him. The first was a happy 
 and desirable thing, but the other was greater 
 and more extraordinary ; for gratitude in a friend 
 for benefits received, is not equal to an enemy’s 
 admiring the virtue by which he suffers. In the 
 first case there is more regard to interest than to 
 merit ; in the latter, real worth is the sole object 
 of the honour paid. 
 
 ARISTIDES. 
 
 Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, was of the 
 tribe of Antiochus, and the ward of Alopece. 
 Of his estate we have different accounts. Some 
 say, he was always very poor, and that he left 
 tv/o daughters behind him, who remained a long 
 time unmarried, on account of their poverty.* 
 But Demetrius the Phalerean contradicts this 
 general opinion in his Socrates, and says there 
 was a farm at Phalera which went by the name 
 of Aristides, and that there he was buried. _ And 
 to prove that there was a competent estate in his 
 family, he produces three arguments. The first 
 is taken from the office of archon,f which made 
 the year bear his name ; and which fell to him 
 by lot ; and for this none took their chance but 
 such as had an income of the first degree, con- 
 sisting of 500 measures of corn, wine, and oil, who 
 therefore were called Pentacosio 7 nedimni. The 
 second argument is founded on the Ostracism, 
 by which he was banished, and which was 
 never inflicted on the meaner sort, but only upon 
 persons of quality, whose grandeur and family 
 pride made them obnoxious to the people. The 
 third and last is drawn from the Tripods, which 
 Aristides dedicated in the_ temple of Bacchus, 
 on account of his victory in the public games, 
 and which are still to be seen, with this inscrip- 
 tion, “ The tribe of Antiochus gained the victory, 
 Aristides defrayed the charges, and Archestratus 
 was the author of the play.” 
 
 But this last argument, though in appearance 
 the strongest of all, is really a very weak one. 
 
 And yet, according to a law of Solon’s, the 
 bride was to carry with her only three suits of 
 clothes, and a little household stuff of small 
 value. 
 
 t At Athens they reckoned their years by 
 Archons, as the Romans did theirs by Consuls. 
 One of the nine Archons, who all had estates of 
 the first degree, was for this purpose chosen by 
 lot out of the rest, and his name inscribed in 
 the public registers. 
 
 For Epaminondas, who, as everybody knows, 
 lived and died poor, and Plato the philosopher, 
 who was not rich, exhibited very splendid shows : 
 the one was at the expense of a concert of flutes 
 at Thebes, and the other of an entertainment 
 of singing and dancing performed by boys at 
 Athens ; Dion having furnished Plato with the 
 money, and Pelopidas supplied Epaminondas. 
 For why should good men, be always averse to 
 the presents of their friends ? While they think 
 it mean and ungenerous to receive anything for 
 themselves, to lay up, or to gratify an avaricious 
 temper, they need not refuse such offers as serve 
 the purposes of honour and magnificence, without 
 any views of profit. 
 
 As to the Tripods, inscribed with Aristides, 
 Panaetius shows plainly that Demetrius was de- 
 ceived by the name. For, according to the 
 registers, from the Persian to the end of the Pelo- 
 ponnesian war, there were only two of the name 
 of Aristides who carried the prize in the choral 
 exhibitions, and neither of them was the son of 
 Lysimachus : for the former was son to Xe- 
 nophilus, and the latter lived long after, as 
 appears from the characters, which were not in 
 use till after Euclid’s time, and likewise from the 
 name of the poet Archestratus, which is not 
 found in any record or author during the Persian 
 wars ; whereas mention is often made of a poet 
 of that name, who brought his pieces upon the 
 stage in the time of the Peloponnesian war.* 
 But this argument of Panaetius should not be 
 admitted without farther examination. 
 
 And as for the Ostracism, every man that was 
 distinguished by birth, reputation, or eloquence, 
 was liable to suffer by it ; since it fell even upon 
 Damon, preceptor to Pericles, because he was 
 
 * It is very possible for a poet, in his own 
 lifetime, to have his plays acted in the Pelo- 
 ponnesian war, and in the Persian too. And 
 therefore the inscription which Plutarch mentions 
 might belong to our Aristides. 
 
ARISTIDES, 231 
 
 looked upon as a man of superior parts and 
 policy. Besides, Idomeneus tells us, that 
 Aristides came to be Archon not by lot, but by 
 particular appointment of the people. And 
 if he was Archon after the battle of Platma* 
 as Demetrius himself writes, it is very pro- 
 bable that, a. ter such great actions, and so much 
 glory, his virtue might gain him that office which 
 others obtained by their wealth. But it is plain 
 that Demetrius laboured to take the imputation 
 of poverty, as if it were some great evil, not 
 only from Aristides, but from Socrates too ; who 
 he says, besides a house of his own, had seventy 
 minaet at interest in the hands of Crito. 
 
 Aristides had a particular friendship for Clis- 
 thenes, who settled the popular government at 
 Athens, after the expulsion of the tyrants, J yet 
 he had, at the same time, the greatest veneration 
 for Lycurgus, the Lacedmmonian, whom he 
 considered as the most excellent of lawgivers : 
 and this led him to be a favourer of aristocracy, 
 in which he was always opposed by Themistocles, 
 who listed in the party of the commons. Some, 
 indeed, say, that being brought up together from 
 their infancy, when boys, they were always at 
 variance, not only in serious matters, but in 
 their very sports and diversions ; and their tem- 
 pers were discovered from the first by that opposi- 
 tion. The one was insinuating, daring, and artful, 
 variable, and at the same time impetuous in his 
 pursuits : the other was solid and steady, in- 
 fiexibly just, incapable of using any falsehood, 
 flattery, or deceit, even at play. But Aristo of 
 Chios § writes, that their enmity, which afterwards 
 came to such a height, took its rise from love. 
 
 ■ae. -ifi Ki i(i -n. 
 
 Themistocles, who was an agreeable companion, 
 gained many friends, and became respectable in 
 the strength of his popularity. Thus when he 
 was told, that he would govern the Athenians 
 extremely well, if he would but do it without 
 respect of persons, he said, May I never sit 
 on a tribunal where my friends shall not find more 
 favour from me than strangers. ” 
 
 Aristides, on the contrary, took a method of 
 his own in conducting the administration. For 
 he would neither consent to any injustice to oblige 
 his friends, nor yet disoblige them, by denying 
 all they asked : and as he saw that many, depend- 
 ing on their interest and friends, were tempted to 
 do unwarrantable things, he never endeavoured 
 after that support, but declared, that a good 
 
 citizen should place his whole strength and 
 security in advising and doing what is just and 
 right. Nevertheless, as Themistocles made many 
 rash and dangerous motions, and endeavoured to 
 break his measures in every step of government, 
 he was obliged to oppose him as much in his turn, 
 partly by way of self-defence, and partly to lessen 
 his power, which daily increased through the 
 favour of the people. For he thought it better 
 that the commonwealth should miss some adv'an- 
 tages, than that Themistocles, by gaining his 
 point, should come at last to carry all before him. 
 Hence it was, that one day when Themistocles 
 proposed something advantageous to the public, 
 Aristides opposed it strenuously, and with success ; 
 but as he went out of the assembly, he could not 
 forbear saying, “ The affairs of die Athenians 
 cannot prosper, except they throw Themistocles 
 and myself into the barathrum.” * Another time, 
 when he intended to propose a decree to the 
 people, he found it strongly ^sputed in the coimdl, 
 but at last he prevailed ; perceiving its incon- 
 veniences, however, by the preceding debates, he 
 put a stop to it, just as the president was going 
 to put it to the question, in order to its being con- 
 firmed by the people. Very often he offered his 
 sentiments by a third person, lest by the opposition 
 of Themistocles to him, the public good should 
 be obstructed. 
 
 In the changes and fluctuations of the govern- 
 ment, his firmness was wonderful Neither elated 
 with honours, nor discomposed with ill success, 
 he went on in a moderate and steady manner, 
 persuaded that his country had a claim to his 
 services, without the reward either of honour or 
 profit. Hence it was that when those verses of 
 riEschylus concerning Amphiaraus were repeated 
 on the stage — 
 
 To be, and not to seem, is this man’s maxim ; 
 
 His mind reposes on its proper wisdom, 
 
 And wants no other praise,! 
 
 the e^-es of the people in general were fixed on 
 Aristides, as the man to whom this great encomium 
 was most applicable. Indeed, he was capable of 
 resisting the suggestions, not only of favour and 
 affection, but of resentment and enmity too, j 
 wherever justice was concerned. For it is said, ; 
 that when he was carrying on a prosecution j 
 against his enemy, and after he had brought his [ 
 charge, the judges were going to pass sentence, ! 
 without hearing the person accused, he rose up : 
 to his assistance, entreating that he might be j 
 heard, and have the privilege which the laws 
 allowed. Another time when he himself sat I 
 judge between two private persons, and one of i 
 them observed that his adversary had done many 
 injuries to Aristides. “Tell me not that,” said 
 he, “but what injury he has done to thee; for 
 it is thy cause I am judging, not my own.” 
 
 WTen appointed public treasurer, he made it 
 appear, that not only those of his time, but the 
 officers that preceded him, had applied a great 
 
 * But Demetrius was mistaken ; for Aristides 
 was never Archon after the battle of Plataea, 
 which was fought in the second year of the 
 seventy-fifth olympiad. In the list of Archons 
 the name of Aristides is found in the fourth year 
 of the seventy-second olympiad, a year or two 
 after the battle of Marathon, and in the second 
 year of the seventy-fourth olympiad, four years 
 before the battle of Plataea. 
 
 t But Socrates himself declares, in his apology 
 to has judges, that, considering his poverty, they 
 could not in reason fine him more than one 
 mina 
 
 ♦ These tyrants were the Pisistratidse, who 
 were driven out about the sixty-sixth olympiad. 
 
 § Dacier thinks it was rather Aristo of Ceos, 
 bemuse, as a peripatetic, he was more likely to j 
 write treatises of love than the other, who was a 
 stoic. j 
 
 * The barathrum was a very deep pit, into 
 which condemned persons were thrown headlong. 
 
 t These verses are to be found in the ‘ ‘ Siege 
 of Thebes by the Seven Captains.” They are a 
 description of the genius and temper of Amphia- 
 raus, w'hich the courier, who brings an account 
 of the enemy’s attacks, and of the characters of 
 the commanders, gives to Eteocles. 
 
232 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 deal of the public money to their own use ; and 
 particulaidy Themistocles ; 
 
 For he, with all his wisdom, 
 
 Could ne’er command his hands. 
 
 For this reason, when Aristides gave in his ac- 
 counts, Themistocles raised a strong party against 
 him, accused him of misapplying the public money, 
 and (according to Idomeneus)gothim condemned. 
 But the principal and most respectable of the 
 citizens,* * * * § incensed at this treatment of Aristides, 
 interposed and prevailed, not only that he might 
 be excused the fine, but chosen again chief trea- 
 surer. He now pretended that his former pro- 
 ceedings were too strict, and carrying a gentler 
 hand over those that acted under him, suffered 
 them to pilfer the public money, without seeming 
 to find them out, or reckoning strictly with them : 
 so that fattening on the spoils of their country, 
 they lavished their praises on Aristides, and 
 heartily espousing his cause, begged of the people 
 to continue him in the same department. But 
 when the Athenians were going to confirm it to 
 him by their suffrages, he gave them this severe 
 rebuke : “ While I managed your finances with 
 all the fidelity of an honest man, I was loaded with 
 calumnies ; and now when I suffer them to be a 
 prey to public robbers, I am become a mighty good 
 citizen : but I assure you, I am more ashamed of 
 the present honour, than I was of the former dis- 
 grace ; and it is with indignation and concern that 
 I see you esteem it more meritorious to oblige 
 ill men, than to take proper care of the public 
 revenue.” By thus speaking and discovering 
 their frauds, he silenced those that recommended 
 him with so much noise and bustle, but at the 
 same time received the truest and_ most valuable 
 praise from the worthiest of the citizens. 
 
 About this time Datis, who was sent by 
 Darius, under pretence of chastising the Athe- 
 nians for burning Sardis, but in reality to subdue 
 all Greece, arrived with his fleet at Marathon, 
 and began to ravage the neighbouring country. 
 Among the generals to whom the Athenians gave 
 the management of this war, Mjltiades was first 
 in dignity, and the next to him in reputation and 
 authority was Aristides. In a council of war that 
 was then held, Miltiades voted for giving the 
 enemy battle,! and Aristides seconding him, 
 added no little weight to his scale. The generals 
 commanded by turns, each his day ; but when it 
 came to Aristides’s turn, he gave up his right to 
 Miltiades, thus showing his colleagues that it was 
 no disgrace to follow the directions of the wise, 
 but that, on the contrary, it answered several 
 honourable and salutary purposes. By this 
 means, he laid the spirit of contention, and 
 bringing them to agree in, and follow the best 
 
 * The court of Areopagus interposed in his 
 behalf. . ^ , 
 
 t According to Herodotus ( 1 . vi. c. 109), the 
 generals were very much divided in their opinions ; 
 some were for fighting, others not ; Miltiades ob- 
 serving this, addressed himself to Callimachus of 
 Aphidnss, who was Polemarch, and whose power 
 was equal to that of all the other generals. Calli- 
 machus, whose voice was decisive according to 
 the Athenian laws, joined directly with Miltiades, 
 and declared for giving battle immediately.^ Pos- 
 sibly Aristides might have some share in bringing 
 Callimachus to this resolution. 
 
 opinion, he strengthened the hands of Miltiades, 
 who now had the absolute and undivided com- 
 mand ; the other generals no longer insisting on 
 their days, but entirely submitting to his orders.* 
 In this battle, the main body of the Athenian 
 army was pressed the hardest,! because there, for 
 a long time, the barbarians made their greatest 
 efforts against the tribes Leontis, and Antiochis ; 
 and Themistocles and Aristides, who belonged to 
 those tribes, exerting themselves, at the head of 
 them, with all the spirit of emulation, behaved 
 with so much vigour, that the enemy were put to 
 flight, and driven back to their ships. But the 
 Greeks perceiving that the barbarians, instead of 
 sailing to the isles, to return to Asia, were driven 
 in by the wind and currents towards Attica, J and 
 fearing that Athens, unprovided for its defence, 
 might become an easy prey to them, marched 
 home with nine tribe.s, and used such expedition, 
 that they reached the city in one day.§ 
 
 Aristides was left at Marathon with his own 
 tribe, to guard the prisoners and the spoils ; and 
 he did not disappoint the public opinion ; for 
 though there was much gold and silver scattered 
 about, and rich garments and other booty in 
 abundance were found in the tents and ships 
 which they had taken, yet he neither had an 
 inclination to touch anything himself, nor per- 
 mitted others to do it. But notwithstanding his 
 care, some enriched themselves unknown to him : 
 among whom was Callias the torch-bearer. || One 
 of the barbarians happening to meet him in a 
 private place, and probably taking him for a 
 king, on account of his long hair and the fillet 
 which he wore,*0 prostrated himself before him ; 
 
 * Yet he would not fight until his own proper 
 day of command came about, for fear that through 
 any latent sparks of jealousy and envy, any of the 
 generals should be led not to do their duty. 
 
 ! The Athenians and Platseans fought with 
 such obstinate valour on the right and left, that 
 the barbarians were forced to fly on both sides. 
 The Persians and Sacse, however, perceiving that 
 the Athenian centre was weak, charged with such 
 force, that they broke through it : this those on 
 the right and left perceived, but did not attempt 
 to succour it, till they had put to flight both the 
 wings of the Persian army ; then bending the 
 points of the wings towards their own centre, 
 they enclosed the hitherto victorious Persians, 
 and cut them to pieces. 
 
 ! It was reported in those times, that the 
 Alcmeonidse encouraged the Persians to make 
 a second attempt, by holding up, as they ap- 
 proached the shore, a shield for a signal. How- 
 ever it was, the Persian fleet endeavoured to 
 double the cape of J unium, with a view to sur- 
 prise the city of Athens before the army could 
 return. Herodot. 1. vi. c. loi, etc. 
 
 § From Marathon to Athens is about forty 
 miles. 
 
 II Torch -bearers, styled in Greek deduchi, were 
 persons dedicated to the service of the gods, and 
 admitted even to the most sacred mysteries. Pau- 
 sanias speaks of it as a great happiness to a 
 woman, that she had seen her brother, her hus- 
 band, and her son, successively enjoy this office. 
 
 H Both priests and kings wore fillets or diadems. 
 It is well known, that in ancient times those two 
 dignities were generally vested in the same per- 
 son ; and such nations as abolished the kingly 
 
ARISTIDES. 233 
 
 and taking him by the hand, showed him a great 
 quantity of gold that was hid in a well. But 
 Callias, not less cruel than unjust, took away the 
 gold, and then killed the man that had given him 
 information of it, lest he should mention the thing 
 to others. Hence, they tell us, it was, that the 
 comic writers called his family Laccophctiy i.e. , 
 enriched by the welly jesting ^upon the place from 
 whence their founder drew his wealth. 
 
 The year following, Aristides was _ appointed 
 to the office of Archo 7 iy which gave his name to 
 that year; though, according to Demetrius the 
 Phalerean, he was not archon till after the battle 
 of Plataea, a little before his death. But in the 
 public registers we find not any of the name of 
 Aristides in the list of archons, after Xanthippides, 
 in whose archonship Mardonius was beaten at 
 Platsea ; whereas his name is on record imme- 
 diately after Phanippus,* * who was archon the 
 same year that the battle was gained at Mara- 
 thon. 
 
 Of all the virtues of Aristides, the people were 
 most struck with his justice, because the public 
 utility was the most promoted by it. Thus he, 
 though a poor man and a commoner, gained the 
 royal and divine title of the Just, which kings 
 and tyrants have never been fond of. It has 
 been their ambition to be styled Poliorcetiy takers 
 of cities; Cerauniy thunder-bolts; Nicanorsy 
 conquerors. Nay, some have chosen to be called 
 Eagles and VtdtureSy preferring the fame of 
 power to that of virtue. Whereas the Deity him- 
 self, to whom they want to be compared, is dis- 
 tinguished by three things, immortality, power, 
 and virtue ; and of these, virtue is the most ex- 
 cellent and divine. For space and the elements 
 are everlasting, earthquakes, lightning, storms, 
 and torrents have an amazing power ; but as for 
 justice, nothing participates of that, without 
 reasoning and thinking of God. And whereas 
 men entertain three different sentiments with 
 respect to the gods, namely, admiration, fear, 
 and esteem, it should seem that they admire and 
 think them happy by reason of their freedom 
 from death and corruption, that they fear and 
 dread them because of their power and sove- 
 reignty, and that they love, honour, and reverence 
 them for their justice. Yet, though affected 
 these three different ways, they desire only the 
 two first properties of the Deity ; immortality 
 which our nature will not admit of, and power 
 which depends chiefly upon fortune ; while they 
 foolishly neglect virtue, the only divine quality 
 in their power ; not considering that it is justice 
 alone, which makes the life of those flourish most 
 in prosperity and high stations, heavenly and 
 divine, while injustice renders it grovelling and 
 brutal. 
 
 Aristides at first was loved and respected for 
 his surname of the Jtcst, and afterwards envied 
 as much ; the latter, chiefly by the management 
 of Themistocles, who gave it out among the 
 people, that Aristides had abolished the courts 
 
 office, kept the title of king for a person who 
 ministered in the principal functions of the 
 priesthood. 
 
 * From the registers it appears, that Phanippus 
 was archon in the third year of the seventy- 
 second olympiad. It was therefore in this year 
 that the battle of Marathon was fought, 490 j^ears 
 before the birth of Christ. 
 
 of judicature, by drawing the arbitration of all 
 causes to himself, and so was insensibly gaining 
 sovereign power, though without guards and the 
 other ensigns of it. The people, elevated with 
 the late victory, thought themselves capable of 
 everything, and the highest respect little enough 
 for them. Uneasy therefore at finding that any 
 one citizen rose to such extraordinary honour and 
 distinction, they assembled at Athens from all 
 the towns in Attica, and banished Aristides by 
 the Ostracism ; disguising their envy of his cha- 
 racter under the specious pretence of guarding 
 against tyranny. 
 
 For the Ostracism was not a punishment for 
 crimes and misdemeanors, but was very decently 
 called a humbling and lessening of some excessive 
 influence and power. In reality it was a mild 
 gratification of envy ; for by this means, whoever 
 was offended at the growing greatness of another, 
 discharged his spleen, not in anything cruel or 
 inhuman, but only in voting a ten years’ banish- 
 ment. But when it once began to fall upon mean 
 and profligate persons, it was for ever after en- 
 tirely laid aside ; Hyperbolus being the last that 
 was exiled by it. 
 
 The reason of its turning upon such a wretch 
 was this. Alcibiades and Nicias, who were per- 
 sons of the greatest interest in Athens, had each 
 his party ; but perceiving that the people were 
 ^oing to proceed to the Ostracism, and that one 
 of them was likely to suffer by it, they consulted 
 together, and joining interests, caused it to fall 
 upon Hyperbolus. _ Hereupon the people, full of 
 indignation at finding this kind of punishment 
 dishonoured and turned into ridicule, abolished it 
 entirely. 
 
 The Ostracism (to give a summary account of 
 it) was conducted in the following manner. Every 
 citizen took a piece of a broken pot, or a shell, on- 
 which he wrote the name of the person he wanted 
 to have banished, and carried it to a part of the 
 market-place that was enclosed with wooden rails. 
 The magistrates then counted the number of the 
 shells : and if it amounted not to 6000, the Ostra- 
 cism stood for nothing : if it did, they sorted the 
 shells, and the person whose name was found on 
 the greatest number, was declared an exile for 
 ten years, but with permission to enjoy his estate. 
 
 At the time that Aristides was banished, when 
 the people v/ere inscribing the names on the 
 shells, it is reported that an illiterate burgher 
 came to Aristides, whom he took for some ordinary 
 person, and giving him his shell, desired him to 
 write Aristides upon it. The good man, surprised 
 at the adventure, asked him whether Aristides 
 had ever injured him. “No,” said he, “nor do 
 I even know him ; but it vexes me to hear him 
 everywhere called the ftist.” Aristides made no 
 answer, but took the shell, and having written 
 his own name upon it, returned it to the man. 
 When he quitted Athens, he lifted up his hands 
 towards heaven, and agreeably to his character, 
 made a prayer, very different from that of 
 Achilles ; namely, that the people of Athens 
 might never see the day, which should force them 
 to remember Aristides. 
 
 Three years after, when Xerxes was passing 
 through Thessaly and Boeotia by long marches 
 to Attica, the Athenians reversed this decree, and 
 by a public ordinance recalled all the exiles. The 
 principal inducement was their fear of Aristides ; 
 for they were apprehensive that he would join 
 
234 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 the enemy, corrupt great part of the citizens, and 
 draw them over to the interests of the barbarians. 
 But they little knew the man. Before this ordi- 
 nance of theirs, he had been exciting and en- 
 couraging the Greeks to defend their liberty ; 
 and after it, when Themistocles was appointed to 
 the command of the Athenian forces, he assisted 
 him both with his person and counsel ; not dis- 
 daining to raise his worst enemy to the highest 
 pitch of glory, for the public good. For when 
 Eurybiades, the commander in chief, had resolved 
 to quit Salamis,* and before he could put his 
 purpose into execution, the enemy’s fleet, taking 
 advantage of the night, had surrounded the 
 islands, and in a manner blocked up the straits, 
 without any one’s perceiving that the confederates 
 were so hemmed in. Aristides sailed the same 
 night from iEgina, and passed with the utmost 
 danger through the Persian fleet. As soon as'he 
 reached the tent of Themistocles, he desired to 
 speak with him in private, and then addressed 
 him in these terms. “You and I, Themistocles, 
 if we are wise, shall now bid adieu to our vain 
 and childish disputes, and enter upon a nobler 
 and more salutary contention, striving which of 
 us shall contribute most to the preservation of 
 Greece ; you, in doing the duty of a general, and 
 I in assisting you with my service and advice. I 
 And that you alone have hit upon the best 
 measures, in advising to come immediately to an- 
 engagement in the straits. And though the allies 
 oppose your design, the enemy promote it. For 
 the sea on all sides is covered with their ships, so 
 that the Greeks, whether they will or not, must 
 come to action, and acquit themselves like men, 
 there being no room left for flight.” 
 
 Themistocles answered, “ I could have wished, 
 Aristides, that you had not been beforehand with 
 -me in this noble emulation ; but I will endeavour 
 to outdo this happy beginning of yours by my 
 future actions.” At the same time he acquainted 
 him with the stratagem he had contrived to en- 
 snare the barbarians, f and then desired him to go 
 and make it appear to Eurybiades, that there 
 could be no safety for them without venturing a 
 sea-fight there ; for he knew that Aristides had 
 much greater influence over him than he. In 
 the council of war assembled on this occasion, 
 Cleocritus the Corinthian said to Themistocles, 
 “ Your advice is not agreeable to Aristides, since 
 he is here present and says nothing.” “ You are 
 mistaken,” said Aristides, “ for I should not have 
 been silent, had not the counsel of Themistocles 
 been the most eligible. And I now hold my 
 peace, not out of regard to the man, but because 
 I approve his sentiments.” This, therefore, was 
 what the Grecian officers fixed upon. 
 
 Aristides then perceiving that the little island 
 of Psyttalia, which lies in the straits over against 
 
 * Eurybiades was for standing away for the 
 gulf of Corinth, that he might be near the land 
 army. But Themistocles clearly saw, that in the 
 straits of Salamis they could fight the Persian 
 fleet, which was so vastly superior in numbers, 
 with much greater advantage than in the gulf of 
 Corinth, where there was an open sea. 
 
 i* The stratagem was to send one to acquaint 
 the enemy that the Greeks were going to quit the 
 straits of Salamis, and therefore if the Persians 
 were desirous to crush them at once, they must 
 fall upon them immediately before they dispersed. 
 
 Salamis, was full of the enemy’s troops, put on 
 board the small transports -a number of the 
 bravest and most resolute of his countrymen, and 
 made a descent upon the island ; where he attacked 
 the barbarians with such fury that they were all 
 cut in pieces, except some of the principal persons 
 who were made prisoners. Among the latter 
 were three sons of Sandauce the king’s sister, 
 whom he sent immediately to Themistocles ; and 
 it is said, that by the direction of Euphrantides 
 the diviner, in pursuance of some oracle, they 
 were all sacrificed to Bacchus Omestes. After 
 this, Aristides placed a strong guard round the 
 island, to take notice of such as were driven 
 ashore there, that so none of his friends might 
 perish, nor any of the enemy escape. For about 
 Psyttalia the battle raged the most,* and the 
 greatest efforts were made ; as appears from the 
 trophy erected there. 
 
 When the battle was over, Themistocles, by 
 way of sounding Aristides, said that great things 
 were already done, but greater still remained ; 
 for they might conquer Asia in Europe, by 
 making all the sail they could to the Hellespont, 
 to break down the bridge. But Aristides ex- 
 claimed against the proposal, and bade him think 
 no more of it, but rather consider and inquire 
 what would be the speediest method of driving the 
 Persians out of Greece, lest, finding himself shut 
 up with such immense forces, and no way left to 
 escape, necessity might bring him to fight with 
 the most desperate courage. Hereupon, Themis- 
 tocles sent to Xerxes the second time, by the 
 Eunuch Arnaces, one of the prisoners,! to acquaint 
 him privately, that the Greeks were strongly 
 inclined to make the best of their way to the 
 Hellespont to destroy the bridge which he had 
 left there ; but that in order to save his royal 
 person, Themistocles was using his best en- 
 deavours to dissuade them from it. Xerxes, 
 terrified at this news, made all possible haste to 
 the Flellespont ; leaving Mardonius behind him 
 with the land forces, consisting of 300,000 of his 
 best troops. 
 
 In the strength of such an army Mardonius 
 was very formidable ; and the fears of the Greeks 
 were heightened by his menacing letters, which 
 were in this style : “At sea in your wooden 
 towers you have defeated landmen, unpractised 
 at the oar ; but there are still the wide plains of 
 Thessaly and the fields of Boeotia, where both 
 horse and foot may fight to the best advantage.” 
 To the Athenians he wrote in particular, being 
 authorised by the king to assure them, that their 
 city should be rebuilt, large sums bestowed upon 
 them, and the sovereignty of Greece put in their 
 hands, if they would take no farther share in the 
 war.f 
 
 As soon as the Lacedaemonians had intelligence 
 of these proposals, they were greatly alarmed. 
 
 * The battle of Salamis was fought in the year 
 before Christ 480. 
 
 t This expedient answered two purposes. By 
 it he drove the king of Persia out of Europe ; and 
 in appearance conferred an obligation upon him, 
 which might be remembered to the advantage of 
 Themistocles, when he came to have occasion 
 for it. 
 
 f He made these proposals by Alexander, 
 king of Macedon, who delivered them in a set 
 speech. 
 
ARISTIDES, 235 
 
 and sent ambassadors to Athens, to entreat the 
 people to send their wives and children to Sparta,"* 
 and to accept from them what was necessary for 
 the support of such as were in years ; for the 
 Athenians having lost both their city and their 
 country, were certainly in great distress. Yet 
 when they had heard what the ambassadors had 
 to say, they gave them such an answer, by the 
 direction of Aristides, as can never be sufficiently 
 admired. They said, they could easily forgive 
 their enemies for thinking that everything was to 
 be purchased with silver and gold, because they 
 had no idea of anything more excellent : but they 
 could not help being displeased that the Lacedae- 
 monians should regard only their present poverty 
 and distress, and, forgetful of their virtue and 
 magnanimity, call upon them to fight for Greece 
 for the paltry^ consideration of a supply of pro- 
 visions. Aristides having drawn up his answer 
 in the form of a decree, and called all the am- 
 bassadors to an audience in full assembly, bade 
 those of Sparta tell the Lacedaemonians, that 
 the people of Athens would not take all the gold 
 either above or under ground for the liberties of 
 Greece. 
 
 As for those of Mardonius, he pointed to the 
 sun, and told them, “ As long as this luminary 
 shines so long^ will the Athenians carry on war 
 with the Persians for their country which has 
 been laid waste, and for their temples which have 
 been profaned and burned.” He likewise pro- 
 cured an order, that the priests should solemnly 
 execrate all that should dare to propose an 
 embassy to the Medes, or talk of deserting the 
 alliance of Greece. 
 
 _ When Mardonius had entered Attica the second 
 time, the Athenians retired again to Salamis. 
 And Aristides, who on that occasion went am- 
 bassador to Sparta, complained to the Lacedae- 
 monians of their delay and neglect in abandoning 
 Athens once more to the barbarians ; and pressed 
 ^em to hasten to the succour of that part of 
 Greece which was not yet fallen into the enemy's 
 hands. The Ephori gave him the hearing,! but 
 seemed attentive to nothing but mirth and 
 diversion, for it was the festival of Hyacinthus. \ 
 At night, however, they selected 5000 Spartans, 
 with orders to take each seven helots with him, 
 and to march before morning, unknown to the 
 Athenians. When Aristides came to make his 
 remonstrances again, they smiled, and told him, 
 that he did but trifle or dream, since their army 
 was at that time as far as Orestium, on their 
 
 march against the foreigners ; for so the Lacedae- 
 monians called the ^rbarians. Aristides told 
 them, it was not a time to jest, or to put their 
 stratagems in practice upon their friends, but on 
 their enemies. This is the account Idomeneus 
 gives of the matter ; but in Aristides’s decree, 
 Cimon, Xanthippus, and Myronides are said to 
 have gone upon the embassy, and not Aristides. 
 
 Aristides, however, was appointed to command 
 the Athenians in the battle that was expected, and 
 marched with 8000 foot to Plataea. There Pau- 
 sanias, who was commander in chief of all the 
 confederates, joined him with his Spartans, and 
 the other Grecian troops arrived daily in great 
 numbers. The Persian army which was encamped 
 along the river Asopas, occupied an immense tract 
 of ground : and they had fortified a spot ten 
 furlongs square, for their baggage and other 
 things of value. 
 
 In the Grecian army there was a diviner of Elis, 
 named Tisamenus,* who foretold certain victory 
 to Pausanias and the Greeks in general, if they 
 did not attack the enemy, but stood only upon 
 the defensive. And Aristides, having sent to 
 Delphi, to inquire of ^ the oracle, received this 
 answer: “The Athenians shall be victorious, if 
 they address their prayers to Jupiter, to Juno 
 of Cithseron, to Pan, and to the nymphs Sphra- 
 gltides;! if they sacrifice to the heroes Andro- 
 crates, Leucon, Pisander, Democrates, Hypsion, 
 Actseon, and Polydius ; and if they fight only in 
 their own country, on the plain of the Eleusinian 
 Ceres and of Proserpine.” This oracle perplexed 
 Aristides not a little. For the heroes to whom he 
 was commanded to sacrifice were the ancestors of 
 the Platseans, and the cave of the nymphs Sphra- 
 gitides in one of the summits of Mount Cithseron, 
 opposite the quarter where the sun sets in the 
 summer ; and it is said, in that cave there was 
 formerly an oracle, by which many who dwelt in 
 those parts were inspired, and therefore called 
 Nympholepti. On the other hand, to have the 
 promise of victory only on condition of fighting 
 in their own country, on the plain of the Eleu- 
 sinian Ceres, was calling the Athenians back to 
 Attica, and removing the seat of war. 
 
 In the mean time Arimnestus, general of the 
 Platseans, dreamt that Jupiter the Preserver 
 asked him what the Greeks had determined to 
 do. To which he answered, “To-morrow they 
 will decamp and march to Eleusis, to fight the 
 barbarians there, agreeably to the oracle.” The 
 god replied, “They quite mistake its meaning; 
 for the place intended by the oracle is in the en- 
 virons of Platsea, and if they seek for it, they will 
 find it.” The matter being so clearly revealed to 
 
 * They did not propose to the Athenians to 
 send their wives and children to Sparta, but only 
 offered to maintain them during the war. They 
 observed, that the original quarrel was between 
 the Persians and Athenians ; that the Athenians 
 were always wont to be the foremost in the cause 
 u that there was no reason to believe 
 
 the Persians would observe any terms with a 
 people they hated. 
 
 ‘J’ They put off their answer from time to time 
 • y gained ten days ; in which time 
 
 they finished the wall across the Isthmus, which 
 secured them against the barbarians. 
 
 X Among the Spartans the feast of Hyacinthus 
 lasted three days ; the first and last were days of 
 sorrow and inourning for Hyacinthus’s death, 
 but the second was a day of rejoicing, celebrated 
 With all manner of diversions. 
 
 * The oracle having promised Tisamenus five 
 great victories ; the Lacedsemonians were desirous 
 of having him for their diviner, but he demanded 
 to be admitted a citizen of Sparta, which was 
 refused at first. However, upon the approach of 
 the Persians, he obtained that privilege both for 
 himself and his brother Hegias. This would 
 scarce have been worth mentioning, had not those 
 two been the only strangers that were ever made 
 citizens of Sparta. 
 
 t The nymphs of Mount Cithaeron were called 
 Sphragitides from the cave Sphragidion, which 
 probaffiy had its name from the silence observed 
 in it by the persons who went thither to be inspired ; 
 silence being described by sealing the lips. 
 
236 
 
 PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 Arimnestus, as soon as he awoke he sent for the 
 oldest and most experienced of his countrymen ; 
 and having advised with them and made the best 
 inquiry, he found that near Husise, at the foot of 
 hlount Cithseron, there was an ancient temple 
 called the temple of the Eleusinian Ceres and 
 Proserpine. He immediately conducted Aristides 
 to the place, which appeared to be very commo- 
 dious for drawing up an army of foot, that was 
 deficient in cavalry, because the bottom of hlount 
 Cithseron extending as far as the temple, made 
 the extremities of the field on that side inacces- 
 sible to the horse. In that place was also the 
 chapel of the hero Androcrates, quite covered 
 with thick bushes and trees. And that nothing 
 might be wanting to fulfil the oracle, and confirm 
 their hopes of victory, the Platseans resolved, 
 at the motion of Arimnestus, to remove their 
 boundaries between their country and Attica, 
 and, for the sake of Greece, to make a grant of 
 those lands to the Athenians, that, according to 
 the oracle, they might fight in their own terri- 
 tories. This generosity of the Platseans gained 
 them so much renown, that many years after, 
 when Alexander had conquered Asia, he ordered 
 the walls of Platsea to be rebuilt, and proclama- 
 tion to be made by an herald at the Olympic 
 games, that the king granted the Platseans this 
 favour on account of their virtue and generosity, 
 in giving up their lands to the Greeks in the 
 Persian war, and otherwise behaving with the 
 greatest vigour and spirit. 
 
 When the confederates came to have their 
 several posts assigned them, there was a great 
 dispute between, the Tegetse and the Athenians : 
 the Tegetse insisting, that, as the Lacedaemonians 
 were posted in the right wing, the left belonged 
 to them, and, in support of their claim, setting 
 forth the gallant actions of their_ ancestors. As 
 the Athenians expressed great indignation at this, 
 Aristides stepped forward and said, “The time 
 will not permit us to contest with the Tegetse 
 the renown of their ancestors and their personal 
 bravery : but to the Spartans and to the rest of 
 the Greeks we say, that the post neither gives 
 valour nor takes it away ; and whatever post you 
 assign us, w’^e will endeavour to do honour to it, 
 and take care to reflect no disgrace upon our 
 former achievements. For we are not come 
 hither to quarrel wflth our allies, but to fight our 
 enemies ; not to make encomiums upon our fore- 
 fathers, but to approve our own courage in the 
 cause of Greece. And the battle will soon show 
 what value our country should set on every state, 
 every general, and private man. _ After this 
 speech, the council of war declared in favour of 
 the Athenians, and gave them the command of 
 the left wing. 
 
 While the fate of Greece was in suspense, the 
 affairs of the Athenians were in a very dangerous 
 posture. For those of the best families and 
 fortunes, being reduced by the war, and seeing 
 their authority in the state and their distinction 
 gone wuth their wealth, and others rising to 
 honours and employments, asseinbled privately 
 in a house at Plataea, and conspired to abolish 
 the democracy ; and, if that did not succeed, to 
 ruin all Greece, and betray it to the barbarians. 
 When Aristides got intelligence of the conspiracy 
 thus entered into in the camp, and found that 
 numbers were corrupted, he was greatly alarmed 
 at its happening at such a crisis, and unresolved 
 
 at first how to proceed. At length he determined 
 neither to leave the matter uninquired into, nor 
 yet to sift it thoroughly, because he knew not 
 how far the contagion had_ spread, and thought 
 it advisable to sacrifice justice, in some degree, to 
 the public good, by forbearing to prosecute many 
 that were guilty. He, therefore, caused eight 
 persons only to be apprehended, and of those 
 eight no more than two, who were most guilty, 
 to be proceeded against ; iEschines of Lampra, 
 and Agesias of Acharnae : and even they made 
 their escape during the prosecution. As for the 
 rest he discharged them : and gave them, and all 
 that were concerned in the plot, opportunity to 
 recover their spirits and change their sentiments, 
 as they might imagine that nothing was made out 
 against them : but he admonished them at the 
 same time, that the battle was the great tribunal, 
 where they might clear themselves of the charge, 
 and show that they had never followed any 
 counsels but such as were just and useful to 
 their country. 
 
 After this,* Mardonius, to make a trial of the 
 Greeks, ordered his cavalry, in which he was 
 strongest to skirmish with them. The Greeks 
 were all encamped at the foot of Mount Cithseron, 
 in strong and stony places; except the Mega- 
 rensians, who to the number of 3000, were posted 
 on the plain, and by this means suffered m.uch by 
 the enemy’s horse, who charged them on every 
 side. Unable to stand against such superior num- 
 bers, they despatched a messenger to Pausanias, 
 for assistance. Pausanias hearing their request, 
 and seeing the camp of the Megarensians dark- 
 ened with the shower of darts and arrows, and 
 that they were forced to contract themselves 
 within a narrow compass, was at a loss what to 
 resolve on ; for he knew that his heavy-armed 
 Spartans were not fit to act against cavalry. He 
 endeavoured, therefore, to awaken the emulation 
 of the generals and other officers that were about 
 him, that they might make it a point of honour 
 voluntarily to undertake the defence and succour 
 of the Megarensians. But they all declined it, 
 except Aristides, who made an offer of his Athe- 
 nians, and gave immediate orders to Olympio- 
 dorus, one of the most active of his officers, to 
 advance with his select band of 300 men and some 
 archers intermixed. They were all ready in a 
 moment, and ran to attack the barbarians. Ma- 
 sistius, general of the Persian horse, a man dis- 
 tinguished for his strength and graceful mien, no 
 sooner saw them advancing, than he spurred^ his 
 horse against them. The Athenians received 
 him with great firmness, and a sharp conflict 
 ensued ; for they considered this as a specimen 
 of the success of the whole battle. At last Ma- 
 sistius’s horse was wounded with an arrow, and 
 threw his rider, who could not recover himself 
 because of the weight of his armour, nor yet be 
 easily slain by the Athenians that strove which 
 
 * The battle of Platsea was fought in the year 
 before Christ 479, the year after that of Salamis. 
 Herodotus Was then about nine or ten years old, 
 and had his accounts from persons that were 
 present in the battle. And he informs us, that 
 the circumstance here related by Plutarch hap- 
 pened before the Greeks left their camp at 
 Erythrse, in order to encamp round to Platsea, 
 and before the contest between the Tegetse and 
 the Athenians. Lib. ix. 29, 30, etc. 
 
ARISTIDES. 
 
 237 
 
 should do it first, because not only his body and 
 his head, but his legs and arms, were covered 
 with plates of gold, brass, and iron. But the 
 vizor of his helmet leaving part of his face open, 
 one of them pierced him in the eye with the staff 
 of his spear, and so despatched him. The Per- 
 sians then left the body and fled. 
 
 The importance of this achievement appeared 
 to the Greeks, not by the number of their enemies 
 lying dead upon the field, for that was but small, 
 but by the mourning of the barbarians, who, in 
 their grief for Masistius, cut off their hair, and 
 the manes of their horses and mules, and filled 
 all the plain with their cries and groans, as having 
 lost the man that was next to Mardonius in 
 courage and authority. 
 
 After this engagement with the Persian cavalry, 
 both sides forbore the combat a long time ; for 
 the diviners, from the entrails of the victims, 
 equally assured the Persians and the Greeks of 
 victory, if they stood upon the defensive, and 
 threatened a total defeat to the aggressors. But 
 at length Mardonius, seeing but a few days’ pro- 
 vision left, and that the Grecian forces increased 
 daily by the arrival of fresh troops, grew uneasy 
 at the delay, and resolved to pass the Asopus 
 next morning by break of day, and fall upon the 
 Greeks, whom he hoped to find unprepared. For 
 this purpose he gave his orders over night. But 
 at midnight a man on horseback softly approached 
 the Grecian camp, and, addressing himself to the 
 sentinels, bade them call Aristides the Athenian 
 general to him. Aristides came immediately, 
 and the unknown person said, “ I am Alexander, 
 king of Macedon, who, for the friendship I bear 
 you, have exposed myself to the greatest dangers, 
 to prevent your fighting under the disadvantage 
 of a surprise. For Mardonius will give you battle 
 to-morrow : not that he is induced to it by any 
 well-grounded hope or prospect of success, but 
 by the scarcity of provisions ; for the soothsayers 
 by their ominous sacrifices and ill-boding oracles 
 endeavour to divert him from it ; but necessity 
 forces him either to hazard a battle, or to sit still, 
 and see his whole army perish through want.” 
 Alexander, having thus opened himself to Aris- 
 tides, desired him to take notice and avail himself 
 of the intelligence, but not to communicate it to 
 any other person.* Aristides, however, thought 
 it wrong to conceal it from Pausanias, who was 
 commander in chief: but he promised not to 
 mention the thing to any one besides, until after 
 the battle ; and assured him at the same time, 
 that if the Greeks proved victorious, the whole 
 army should be acquainted with this kindness and 
 glorious daring conduct of Alexander. 
 
 The king of Macedon, having despatched this 
 affair, returned, and Aristides went immediately 
 to the tent of Pausanias, and laid the whole 
 before him ; whereupon the other officers were 
 sent for, and ordered to put the troops under 
 arms, and have them ready for battle. At the 
 same time, according to Herodotus, Pausanias 
 informed Aristides of his design to alter the dis- 
 position of the army, by removing the Athenians 
 from the left wing to the right, and setting them 
 to oppose the Persians : against whom they would 
 
 * According to Herodotus, Alexander had ex- 
 cepted Pausanias out of this charge of secrecy ; 
 and this is most probable because Pausanias was 
 commander in chief. 
 
 act with the more braver^’’, because they had made 
 proof of their manner of fighting ; and with greater 
 assurance of success, because they had already 
 succeeded. As for the left wing, which would 
 have to do wkh those Greeks that had embraced 
 the Median interest, he intended to command 
 there himself.* The other Athenian officers 
 thought Pausanias carried it with a partial and 
 high hand, in moving them up and down, like so 
 many helots, at his pleasure, to face the boldest 
 of the enemy’s troops, while he left the rest of the 
 confederates in their posts. But Aristides told 
 them, they were under a great mistake. “You 
 contended,” said he, “ a few days ago with the 
 Tegetae for the command of the left wing, and 
 valued yourselves upon the preference ; and now, 
 when the Spartans voluntarily offer you the right 
 wing, which is in effect giving up to you the 
 command of the whole army, you are neither 
 pleased with the honour, nor sensible of the 
 advantage, of not being obliged to fight against 
 your countrymen and those who have^the same 
 origin with you, but against barbarians, your 
 natural enemies.” 
 
 These words had such an effect upon the Athe- 
 nians, that they readily agreed to change posts 
 with the Spartans, and nothing was heard among 
 them but mutual exhortations to act with bravery. 
 They observed, that the enemy brought neither 
 better arms nor bolder hearts than they had at 
 Marathon, but came with the same bows, the 
 same embroidered vests and profusion of gold, 
 the same effeminate bodies, and the same un- 
 manly souls. “ For our part,” continued they, 
 “ v/e have the same weapons and strength of-body, 
 together with additional spirits from our victories ; 
 and we do not, like them, fight for a tract of land 
 or a single city, but for the trophies of Marathon 
 and Salamis, that the people of Athens, and not 
 Miltiades and fortune, may have the glory of 
 them.” 
 
 While they were thus encouraging each other, 
 they hastened to their new post. But the 
 Thebans being informed of it by deserters, sent 
 and acquainted Mardonius ; who, either out of 
 fear of the Athenians, or from an ambition to try 
 his strength with the Lacedaemonians, imme- 
 diately moved the Persians to his right wing, and 
 the Greeks that were of his party to the left, 
 opposite to the Athenians. This change in the 
 disposition of the enemy’s army being known, 
 Pausanias made another movement, and passed 
 to the right ; which Mardonius perceiving, 
 returned to the left, and so still faced the Lace- 
 daemonians. Thus the day passed without any 
 action at all. In the evening the Grecians held 
 a council of war, in which they determined to 
 decamp, and take possession of a place more 
 commodious for water, because the springs of 
 their present camp were disturbed and spoiled by 
 the enemy’s horse. 
 
 When night was come,t and the officers began 
 
 * Herodotus says the contrary ; namely, that 
 all the Athenian officers were ambitious of that 
 post, but did not think proper to propose it for 
 fear of disobliging the Spartans. 
 
 t On this occasion Mardonius did not fail to 
 insult Artabazus, reproaching him with his 
 cowardly prudence, and the false notion he had 
 conceived of the Lacedaemonians, who, as he 
 pretended, never fled before the enemy. 
 
238 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 to march at the head of their troops to the place 
 marked out for a new camp, the. soldiers followed 
 unwillingly, and could not without great difficulty 
 be kept together ; for they were no sooner out of 
 their first entrenchments, than many of them made 
 off to the city of Platsea, and, either dispersing 
 there, or pitching their tents without any regard 
 to discipline, were in the utmost confusion. It 
 happened that the Lacedaemonians alone were 
 left behind, though against their will. For 
 Amompharetus, an intrepid man, who had long 
 been eager to engage, and uneasy to see the 
 battle so often put off and delayed, plainly called 
 this decampment a disgraceful flight, and de- 
 clared he would not quit his post, but remain 
 there with his troops, and stand it out against 
 Mardonius, And when Pausanias represented 
 to him, that this measure was taken in pursuance 
 of the counsel and determination of the con- 
 federates, he took up a large stone with both 
 his hands, and throwing it at Pausanias’s feet, 
 said, “ This is my ballot for a battle ; and I 
 despise the timid counsels and resolves of others.” 
 Pausanias was at a loss what to do, but at last 
 sent to the Athenians who by this time were 
 advancing, and desired them to halt a little, that 
 they might all proceed in a body : at the same 
 time he marched with the rest of the troops 
 towards Platsea, hoping by that means to draw 
 Amompharetus after him. 
 
 By this time it was day, and Mardonius,* who 
 was not ignorant^ that the Greeks had quitted 
 their camp, put his army in order of battle, and 
 bore down upon the Spartans ; the barbarians 
 setting up such shouts, and clanking their arms in 
 such a manner, as if they expected to have only 
 the plundering of fugitives, and not a battle. 
 And indeed it was like to have been so. For 
 though Pausanias, upon seeing this motion of 
 Mardonius, stopped, and ordered every one to his 
 post, yet, either confused with his resentment 
 against Amompharetus, or with the sudden attack 
 of the Persians, he forgot to give his troops the 
 word : and for that reason they neither engaged 
 readily, nor in a body, but continued scattered in 
 small parties, even after the fight was begun. 
 
 Pausanias in the mean time offered sacrifice; 
 but seeing no auspicious tokens, he commanded 
 the Lacedaemonians to lay down their shields at 
 their feet, and to stand still, and attend his orders, 
 without opposing^ the enemy. After this he 
 offered other sacrifices, the Persian cavalry still 
 advancing. They were now within bow-shot, 
 and some of the Spartans were wounded : among 
 whom was Callicrates, a man that for size and 
 
 * Having passed the Asopus, he came up with 
 the Lacedaemonians and Tegetse, who were 
 separated from the body of the army, to the 
 number of 53,000. Pausanias, finding himself 
 thus attacked by the whole Persian army, de- 
 spatched a messenger to acquaint the Athenians, 
 who had taken another route, with the danger he 
 was in. The Athenians immediately put them- 
 selves on their march to succour their distressed 
 allies ; but were attacked, and, to their great 
 regret, prevented by those Greeks who sided with 
 the Persians. The battle being thus fought in 
 two different places, the Spartans were the first 
 who broke into the centre of the Persian army, 
 and, after a most obstinate resistance, put them 
 to flight. 
 
 beauty exceeded the whole army. This brave 
 soldier being shot with an arrow, and ready to 
 expire, said he did not lament his death, because 
 he came out resolved to shed his blood for Greece ; 
 but he was sorry to die without having once 
 drawn his sword against the enemy. 
 
 If the terror of this situation was great, the 
 steadiness and patience of the Spartans was 
 wonderful : for they made no defence against the 
 enemy’s charge, but, waiting the time of heaven 
 and their general, suffered themselves to be 
 wounded and slain in their ranks. 
 
 Some say, that, as Pausanias was sacrificing 
 and praying at a little distance from the lines, 
 certain Lydians coming suddenly upon him, 
 seized and scattered the sacred utensils, and 
 that Pausanias and those about him, having no 
 weapons, drove them away with rods and 
 scourges. And they will have it to be in imitation 
 of this assault of the Lydians, that they celebrate 
 a festival at Sparta now, in which boys are 
 scourged round the altar, and which concludes 
 with a march called the Lydian march. 
 
 Pausanias, extremely afflicted at these circum- 
 stances, while the priest offered sacrifice upon 
 sacrifice, turning towards the temple of Juno, and 
 with tears trickling from his eyes, and uplifted 
 hands, prayed to that goddess the protectress of 
 Cithaeron, and to the other tutelar deities of the 
 Platseans. that if the fates had not decreed that 
 the Grecians should conquer, they might at least 
 be permitted to sell their lives dear ; and show 
 the enemy by their deeds, that they had brave 
 men and experienced soldiers to deal with. 
 
 The very moment that Pausanias was uttering 
 this prayer,^ the tokens so much desired appeared 
 in the victim, and the diviners announced him 
 victory. Orders were immediately given the 
 whole army to come to action, and the Spartan 
 phalanx all at once had the appearance of some 
 fierce animal, erecting his bristles, and preparing 
 to exert his strength. The barbarians then saw 
 clearly that they had to do with men who were 
 ready to spill the last drop of their blood : and 
 therefore, covering themselves with their targets, 
 shot their arrows against the Lacedaemonians. 
 The Lacedaemonians moving forward in a close 
 conipact body, fell upon the Persians, and forcing 
 their targets from them, directed their pikes 
 against their faces and breasts, and brought many 
 of them to the ground. However, when they 
 were down, they continued to give proofs of 
 their strength and courage ; for they laid hold 
 on the pikes with their naked hands and broke 
 them ; and then springing up betook themselves 
 to their swords and battleaxes, and, wresting away 
 their enemies’ shields and grappling close with 
 them, made a long and obstinate resistance. 
 
 The Athenians all this while stood still, expect- 
 ing the Lacedaemonians ; but when the noise of 
 the battle reached them, and an officer, as we are 
 told, despatched by Pausanias, gave them an 
 account that the engagement was begun, they 
 hastened to his assistance : and as they were 
 crossing the plain towards the place where the 
 noise was heard, the Greeks who sided with the 
 enemy, pushed against them. As soon as Aris- 
 tides saw them, he advanced a considerable way 
 before his troops, and calling out to them with all 
 his force, conjured them by the gods of Greece, 
 to renounce this impious war, and not oppose the 
 Athenians who were running to the succour of 
 
those that were now the first to hazard their lives 
 for the safety of Greece. But finding that, 
 instead of hearkening to him, they approached in 
 a hostile manner, he quitted his design of going 
 to assist the Lacedaemonians, and joined battle 
 with these Greeks, who were about 5000 in 
 number. But the greatest part soon gave way 
 and retreated, especially when they heard that 
 the barbarians were put to flight. The sharpest 
 part of this action is said to have been with the 
 Thebans ; among whom the first in quality and 
 power, having embraced the Median interest, by 
 their authority carried out the common people 
 against their inclination. 
 
 ^ The battle, thus divided into two parts, the 
 Lacedaemonians first broke and routed the 
 Persians ; and Mardonius * * himself was slain by 
 a Spartan named Arimnestus,f who broke his 
 skull with a stone, as the oracle of Amphiaraus 
 had foretold him. For Mardonius had sent a 
 Lydian to consult this oracle, and at the same time 
 a Carian to the cave of Trophonius. t The priest 
 of Trophonius answered the Carian in his own 
 language : but the Lydian, as he slept in the 
 temple of Amphiaraus,§ thought he saw a minister 
 of the god approach him, who commanded him 
 to be gone, and, upon his refusal, threw a great 
 stone at his head, so that he believed himself 
 killed by the blow. Such is the account we have 
 of that affair. 
 
 The barbarians, flying before the Spartans, 
 were pursued to their camp which they had 
 fortified with wooden walls. And soon after the 
 Athenians routed the Thebans, killing 300 persons 
 of the first distinction on the spot. Just as the 
 Thebans began to give way, news was brought 
 that the barbarians were shut up and besieged in 
 their wooden fortification ; the Athenians, there- 
 fore, suffering the Greeks to escape, hastened to 
 assist in the siege ; and finding that the Lacedae- 
 monians, unskilled in the storming of walls, made 
 but a slow progress, they attacked and took the 
 camp, II with a prodigious slaughter of the enemy. 
 For it is said that of 300,000 men, only 40,000 
 escaped with Artabazus . ^ whereas of those that 
 
 ^ * Mardonius, mounted on a white horse, 
 signalized himself greatly, and, at the head of 
 1000 chosen men, killed a great number of the 
 enemy ; but when he fell, the whole Persian army 
 was easily routed. 
 
 t In some copies he is called Diamnestus. 
 Arimnestus was general of the Plataeans. 
 
 t The cave of Trophonius was near the city of 
 Labadia in Boeotia, above Delphi. Mardonius 
 had sent to consult, not only this oracle, but 
 almost all the other oracles in the country, so 
 restless and uneasy was he about the event of the 
 war. 
 
 § Amphiaraus, in his lifetime, had been a great 
 interpreter of dreams, and therefore, after his 
 death, gave his oracles by dreams : for which 
 purpose those that consulted him slept in his 
 temple, on the skin of a ram, which they had 
 sacrificed to him. 
 
 II The spoil was immense, consisting of vast 
 sums of money, of gold and silver cups, vessels, 
 tables, bracelets, rich beds, and all sorts of furni- 
 ture. They gave the tenth of all to Pausanias. 
 
 ^ Artabazus, who, from Mardonius's imprudent 
 conduct, had but too well foreseen the misfortune 
 that befell him, after having distinguished himself 
 
 fought in the cause of Greece, no more were slain 
 than 1360 ; among whom were fifty- two Athenians, 
 all,_ according to Clidemus, of the tribe of Aiantis, 
 which greatly distinguished itself in that action. 
 And therefore, by order of the Delphic oracle, the 
 Aiantidse offered a yearly sacrifice of thanksgiving 
 for the victory to the nympLs SphragUides, having 
 the expense defrayed out of the treasury. The 
 Lacedsemonians lost ninety-one, and the Tegetse 
 sixteen. But it is surprising, that Herodotus 
 should say that these were the only Greeks that 
 engaged the barbarians, and that no other were 
 concerned in the action. For both the number of 
 the slain and the monuments show, that it was 
 the common achievement of the confederates ; 
 and the altar erected on that occasion would not 
 have had the following inscription, if only three 
 states had engaged, and the rest had sat still : 
 
 The Greeks, their country freed, the Persians 
 slain. 
 
 Have rear’d this altar on the glorious field. 
 
 To freedom’s patron, Jove. 
 
 This battle was fought on the fourth of Boe- 
 dromion \_September\ according to the Athenian 
 way of reckoning ; but, according to the Boeotian 
 computation, on the twenty-fourth of the month 
 Pa 7 ie 7 mcs. And on that day there is still a general 
 assembly of the Greeks at Platsea, and the 
 Platseans sacrifice to Jupiter deliverer, for the 
 victory. Nor is this difference of days in the 
 Grecian months to be wondered at, since even 
 now, when the science of astronomy is so much 
 improved, the months begin and end differently 
 in different places. 
 
 This victory went near to be the ruin of Greece. 
 For the Athenians, unwilling to allow the Spartans 
 the honour of the day, or to consent that they 
 should erect the trophy, would have referred it to 
 the decision of the sword, had not Aristides taken 
 great pains to explain the matter, and pacify the 
 other generals, particularly Leocrates and My- 
 ronides ; persuading them to leave it to the 
 judgment of the Greeks. A council was called 
 accordingly, in which Theogiton gave it as his 
 opinion, that those two states should give up the 
 palm to a third, if they desired to prevent a civil 
 war. _ Then Cleocritus the Corinthian rose up, 
 and it was expected he would set forth the pre- 
 tensions of Corinth to the prize of valour, as the 
 city next in dignity to Sparta and Athens ; but 
 they were most agreeably surprised when they 
 found that he spoke in behalf of the Plataeans, 
 and proposed, that, all disputes laid aside, the 
 palm should be adjudged to them, since neither of 
 the contending parties could be jealous of them. 
 Aristides was the first to give up the point for the 
 Athenians, and then Pausanias did the same for 
 the Lacedaemonians.* 
 
 The confederates thus reconciled, eighty talents 
 
 in the engagement, made a timely retreat with 
 the 40,000 men he commanded, arrived safe at 
 Byzantium, and from thence passed over into 
 Asia. Beside these, only 3000 men escaped. 
 Hero^ot. 1 . ix. c. 31-69. 
 
 * As to individuals, when they came to deter- 
 mine which had behaved with most courage, they 
 all gave judgment in favour of Aristodemus, who 
 was the only one that had saved himself at Ther- 
 mopylae, and now wiped oflf the blemish of his 
 former conduct by a glorious death. 
 
240 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 were set apart for the Platseans, with which they 
 built a temple, and erected a statue to Minerva ; 
 adorning the temple with paintings, which to this 
 day retain their original beauty and lustre. Both 
 the Lacedaemonians andAthenians erected trophies 
 separately ; and sending to consult the oracle at 
 Delphi, about the sacrifice they were to offer, 
 they were directed by Apollo to build an altar to 
 Jupiter the deliverer, but not to offer any sacidfice 
 upon it till they had extinguished all the fire in 
 the country (because it had been polluted by the 
 barbarians), and supplied themselves with pure 
 fire from the common altar at Delphi. Hereupon 
 the Grecian generals went all over the country, 
 and caused the fires to be put out ; and Euchidas 
 a Platsean, undertaking to fetch fire, with all 
 imaginable speed, from the altar of the god, went 
 to Delphi, sprinkled and purified himself there 
 with water, put a crown of laurel on his head, 
 took fire from the altar, and then hastened back 
 to Platsea, where he arrived before sunset, thus 
 performing a journey of 1000 furlongs in one day. 
 But, having saluted his fellow-citizens, and de- 
 livered the fire, he fell down on the spot, and 
 presently expired. The Platseans carried him to 
 the temple of Diana, surnamed Eucleia, and 
 buried him there, putting this short inscription on 
 his tomb : 
 
 Here lies Euchidas, went to Delphi, and returned 
 the same day. 
 
 As for Eucleia, the generality believe her to be 
 Diana, and call her by that name ; but some say, 
 she was daughter to Hercules, and Myrto the 
 daughter of Menoeceus, and sister of Patroclus ; 
 and that dying a virgin, she had divine honours 
 paid her by the Boeotians and Leocrians. For in 
 the market-place of every city of theirs she has a 
 statue and an altar, where persons of both sexes 
 that are betrothed offer sacrifice before marriage. 
 
 In the first general assembly of the Greeks 
 after this victory, Aristides proposed a decree, 
 that deputies from all the states of Greece should 
 meet annually at Platsea, to sacrifice to Jupiter 
 the deliverer, and that every fifth year they 
 should celebrate the games of liberty; that a 
 general levy should be made through (jreece of 
 10,000 foot, 1000 horse, and 100 ships, for the war 
 against the barbarians; and that the Platseans 
 should be exempt, being set apart for the service 
 of the god, to propitiate him in behalf of Greece, 
 and consequently their persons to be esteemed 
 sacred. 
 
 These articles passing into a law, the Platseans 
 undertook to celebrate the anniversary of those 
 that were slain and buried in that place, and they 
 continue it to this day. The ceremony is as 
 follows : On the sixteenth day of Maimacterion 
 \_November\, which with the Boeotians is the 
 month Alalco 7 nenhis, the procession begins at 
 break of day, preceded by a trumpet which 
 sounds the signal of battle. Then follow several 
 chariots full of garlands and branches of myrtle, 
 and next to the chariots is led a black bull. Then 
 come some young men that are free-born, carry- 
 ing vessels full of wine and milk, for the libations, 
 and cruets of oil and perfumed essences: no 
 slave being allowed to have any share in this 
 ceremony, sacred to the memory of men that died 
 for liberty. The procession closes with the Archon 
 of Plataea, who at other times is not allowed 
 either to touch iron, or to wear any garments 
 
 but a white one ; but that day he is clothed with 
 a purple robe, and girt with a sword : and carry- 
 ing in his hand a water-pot, taken out of the 
 public hall, he walks through the midst of the 
 city to the tombs. Then he takes water in the 
 pot out of a fountain, and, with his own hands, 
 washes the little pillars of the monuments,* and 
 rubs them with essences. After this he kills the 
 bull upon a pile of wood ; and having made his 
 supplications to the terrestrial Jupiter, f and to 
 Mercury, he invites those brave men who fell in 
 the cause of Greece to the funeral banquet, and 
 the steams of blood.^ Last of all, he fills a bowl 
 with wine, and pouring it out he says, “ I present 
 this bowl to the men who died for the liberties of 
 Greece.” Such is the ceremony still observed by 
 the Platseans. 
 
 When the Athenians were returned home, Aris- 
 tides, observing that they used their utmost 
 endeavours to make the government entirely 
 democratical, considered, on one side, that the 
 people deserved some attention and respect, on 
 account of their gallant behaviour ; and, on the 
 other, that being elated with their victories, it 
 would be difficult to force them to depart from 
 their purpose ; and therefore he caused a decree 
 to be made, that all the citizens should have a 
 share in the administration, and that the Archo^is 
 should be chosen out of the whole body of them. 
 
 Themistocles having one day declared to the 
 general assembly that he had thought of an ex- 
 pedient which was very salutary to Athens, J but 
 ought to be kept secret, he was ordered to com- 
 municate it to Aristides only, and abide by his 
 judgment of it. Accordingly, he told him his 
 project was to burn the whole fleet of the con- 
 federates ; by which means the Athenians would 
 be raised to the sovereignty of all Greece. Aris- 
 tides then returned to • the assembly, and ac- 
 quainted the Athenians, that nothing could be 
 more advantageous than the^ project of Themis- 
 tocles, nor anything more unjust. And upon his 
 report of the matter, they commanded Themis- 
 tocles to give over all thoughts of it. Such regard 
 had that people for justice, and so much confidence 
 in the integrity of Aristides. 
 
 Some time after this § he was joined in com- 
 mission with Cimon, and sent against the bar- 
 barians; where, observing that Pausanias and 
 the other Spartan generals behaved with excessive 
 haughtiness, he chose a quite different^ manner, 
 showing much mildness and condescension in his 
 whole conversation and address, and prevailing 
 with Cimon to behave with equal goodness and 
 affability to the whole league. Thus he insensibly 
 
 '* It appears from an epigrani of Callimachus, 
 that it was customary to place little pillars upon 
 the monuments, which the friends of the deceased 
 perfumed with essences and crowned with flowers. 
 
 t The terrestrial Jupiter is Pluto, who, as well 
 as the celestial, had his Mercury, or else borrowed 
 the messenger of the gods of his brother. To be 
 sure, there might be as well two Mercuries as two 
 Jupiters ; but the conducting of souls to the 
 shades below, is reckoned part of the office of 
 that Mercury who waits upon the Jupiter of the 
 
 This was before the battle of Plataea, at the 
 time when Xerxes was put to flight, and driven 
 back into Asia. 
 
 § Eight years after. 
 
ARISTIDES. 
 
 241 
 
 drew the chief command from the Lacedaemonians, 
 not by force of arms, horses, or ships, but by his 
 gentle and obliging deportment. For the justice 
 of Aristides, and the candour of Cimon, having 
 made the Athenians very agreeable to the con- 
 federates, their regard was increased by the 
 contrast they found in Pausanias’s avarice and 
 severity of manners. For he never spoke to the 
 officers of the allies but with sharpness and anger, 
 and he ordered many of their men to be flogged, 
 or to stand all day with an iron anchor on their 
 shoulders. He would not suffer any of them to 
 provide themselves with forage, or straw to lie 
 on, or to go to the springs for water, before the 
 Spartans were supplied, but placed his servants 
 there with rods, to drive away those that should 
 attempt it. And when Aristides was going to 
 remonstrate with him upon it, he knit his brows, 
 and telling him he was not at leisure, refused to 
 hear him. 
 
 From that time the sea-captains and land- 
 officers of the Greeks, particularly those of Chios, 
 Samos, and Lesbos, pressed Aristides to take 
 upon him the command of the confederate forces, 
 and to receive them into his protection, since 
 they had long desired to be delivered from the 
 Spartan yoke, and to act under the orders of the 
 Athenians. He answered, that he saw the 
 necessity and justice of what they proposed, but 
 that the proposal ought first to be confirmed by 
 some act, which would make it impossible for the 
 troops to depart from their resolution. Hereupon 
 Uliades of Samos, and Antagoras of Chios, con- 
 spiring together, went boldly and attacked Pau- 
 sanias’s galley at the head of the fleet. Pausanias, 
 upon this insolence, cried out, in a menacing tone, 
 he would soon show those fellows they had not 
 offered this insult to his ship, but to their own 
 countries. But they told him, the best thing he 
 could do was to retire, and thank fortune for 
 fighting for him at Platsea ; for that nothing but 
 the regard they had for that great action re- 
 strained the Greeks from wreaking their just 
 vengeance on him. The conclusion was, that 
 they quitted the Spartan banners, and ranged 
 themselves under those of the Athenians. 
 
 On this occasion, the magnanimity of the 
 Spartan people appeared with great lustre. For 
 as soon as they perceived their generals were 
 spoiled with too much power, they sent no more, 
 but voluntarily gave up their pretensions to the 
 chief command ; choosing rather to cultivate in 
 their citizens a principle of modesty and tena- 
 ciousness of the laws and customs of their coun- 
 try, than to possess the sovereign command of 
 Greece, 
 
 While the Lacedaemonians had the command, 
 the Greeks paid a certain tax towards the war ; 
 and now, being desirous that every city might be 
 more equally rated, they begged the favour of 
 the Athenians that Aristides might take it upon 
 him, and gave him instructions to inspect their 
 lands and revenues in order to proportion the 
 burden of each to its ability. 
 
 Aristides, invested with this authority, which, 
 in a manner, made him master of all Greece, did 
 not abuse it. For though he went out poor, he 
 returned poorer, having settled the quotas of the 
 several states, not only justly and disinterestedly, 
 but with so much tenderness and humanity, that 
 his assessment was agreeable and convenient to 
 all. And as the ancients praised the times of 
 
 Saturn, so the allies of Athens blessed the settle- 
 ments of Aristides, calling it “ the happy fortune 
 of Greece a compliment which soon after ap- 
 peared still more just, when this taxation was 
 twice or three times as high. For that of Aris- 
 tides amounted only to 460 talents ; and Pericles 
 increased it almost one-third : for .Thucydides 
 writes, that at the beginning of the war, the 
 Athenians received from their allies 600 talents ; 
 and after the death of Pericles, those that had the 
 administration in their hands raised it by little 
 and little to the sum of 1300 talents. Not that 
 the war grew more expensive, either by its length 
 or want of success, but because they had accus- 
 tomed the people to receive distributions of money 
 for the public spectacles and other purposes, and 
 had made them fond of erecting magnificent 
 statues and temples. 
 
 _ The great and illustrious character which Aris- 
 tides acquired by the equity of this taxation, 
 piqued Themistocles ; and he endeavoured to 
 turn the praise bestowed upon him into ridicule, 
 by saying, it was not the praise of a man, but of 
 a money-chest, to keep treasure without diminu- 
 tion. By this he took but a feeble revenge for 
 the freedom of Aristides. For, one day, Themis- 
 tocles happening to say that he looked upon it as 
 the principal excellence of a general to know and 
 foresee the designs of the enemy; Aristides an- 
 swered, “ That is indeed a necessary qualifica- 
 tion ; but there is another very excellent one, 
 and h’ghly becoming a general, and that is, to 
 have clean hands.” 
 
 _ When Aristides had settled the articles of al- 
 liance, he called upon the confederates to confirm 
 them with an oath ; which he himself took on the 
 part of the Athenians ; and, at the same time that 
 he uttered the execration on those who should 
 break the articles, he threw red-hot pieces of iron 
 into the sea.* However, when the urgency of 
 affairs after^vards required the Athenians to 
 govern Greece with a stricter hand than those 
 conditions justified, he advised them to let the 
 consequences of the perjury rest with him, and 
 pursue the path which expediency pointed out.*{* 
 Upon the whole, Theophrastus says, that in all 
 his own private concerns, and in those of his 
 fellow-citizens, he was inflexibly just ; but in 
 affairs of state, he did many things according 
 to the exigency of the case, to serve his country’-, 
 which seemed to have need of the assistance of 
 injustice. And he relates, that when it was de- 
 bated in council, whether the treasure deposited 
 at Delos should be brought to Athens, as the 
 Samians had advised, though contrary’- to treaties, 
 on its coming to his turn to speak, he said it was 
 not just, but it was expedient. 
 
 This must be said, notwithstanding, that though 
 
 * As much as to say, as the fire in these pieces 
 of iron is extinguished in a moment, so may their 
 days be extinct who break this covenant. 
 
 t Thus even the just, the upright Aristides 
 made a distinction between his private and po- 
 litical conscience. A distinction which has no 
 manner of foundation in truth or reason, and 
 which in the end will be productive of ruin rather 
 than advantage ; as all those nations will find 
 who avail themselves of injustice to serve a 
 present occasion. For so much reputation is so 
 much power ; and states, as well as private per- 
 sons, are respectable only in their character. 
 
 R 
 
242 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 hi extended the dominions of Athens over so 
 many people, he himself still continued poor, 
 and esteemed his poverty no less a glory than 
 all the laurels he had won. The following is a 
 clear proof of it. Callias the torch-bearer, who 
 was his near relation, was prosecuted in a capital 
 cause by his enemies. When they had alleged 
 what they had against him, which was nothing 
 very flagrant, they launched out into something 
 foreign to their own charge, and thus addressed 
 the judges: “You know Aristides, the son of 
 L^’-simachus, who is justly the admiration of all 
 Greece. ^ When you see with what a garb he 
 appears in public, in what manner do you think 
 he must live at home? Must not he who shivers 
 here with cold for want of clothing, be almost 
 famished there, and destitute of all necessaries? 
 Yet this is the man, whom Callias, his cousin- 
 german, and the richest man in Athens, abso- 
 lutely neglects, and leaves, with his wife and 
 children, in such wretchedness ; though he has 
 often made use of him, and availed himself of 
 his interest with you.” Callias perceiving that 
 this point affected and exasperated his judges 
 more than anything else, called for Aristides 
 to testify before the court, that he had many 
 times offered him considerable sums, and strongly 
 pressed him to accept them, but he had always 
 refused them, in such terms as these : “It better 
 becomes Aristides to glory in his poverty, than 
 Callias in his riches ; for we see every day many 
 people make a good as well as a bad use of riches, 
 but it is hard to find one that bears poverty with 
 a noble spirit ; and they only are ashamed of it, 
 who are poor against their will.” When Aristides 
 had given in his evidence, there was not a man in 
 the court who did not leave it with an inclination 
 rather to be poor with him than rich with Callias. 
 This particular we have from .(Eschines, the dis- 
 ciple of Socrates. And Plato, among all that 
 were accounted great and illustrious men in 
 Athens, judged none but Aristides worthy of 
 real esteem. As for Themistocles, Cimon, and 
 Pericles, they filled the city with magnificent 
 buildings, with wealth, and the vain superfluities 
 of life ; but virtue was the only object that Aris- 
 tides had in view in the whole course of his ad- 
 ministration. 
 
 We have extraordinary instances of the candour 
 with which he behaved towards Themistocles. 
 For though he was his constant enemy in all 
 affairs of government, and the means of his ban- 
 ishment, yet when Themistocles was accused of 
 capital crimes against the state, and he had an 
 opportunity to pay him in kind, he indulged not 
 the least revenge ; but while Alcmseon, Cimon, 
 and many others, were accusing him and driving 
 him into exile, Aristides alone neither did nor 
 said anything to his disadvantage : for, as he had 
 not envied his prosperity, so now he did not re- 
 joice in his misfortunes. 
 
 As to the death of Aristides, some say it hap- 
 pened in Pontus, whither he had sailed about 
 some business of the state ; others say he died at 
 A.thens, full of days, honoured and admired by 
 his fellow-citizens : but Craterus the Macedonian 
 gives us another account of the death of this great 
 man. _ He tells us,^ that after the banishment of 
 Themistocles, the insolence of the people gave 
 encouragement to a number of villainous in- 
 formers, who, attacking the greatest and best 
 men, rendered them obnoxious to the populace, 
 
 now much elated with prosperity And power. 
 Aristides himself was not spared, but on a charge 
 brought against him by Diophantus of Amphi- 
 trope, was condemned for taking a bribe of the 
 lonians, at the time he levied the tax. He adds, 
 that being unable to pay his fine, which was fifty 
 mznce, he sailed to some part of Ionia, and there 
 died. But Craterus gives us no written proof of 
 this assertion, nor does he allege any register of 
 court or decree of the people, though on other 
 occasions he is full of such proofs, and constantly 
 cites his author. The other historians, without 
 exception, who have given us accounts of the 
 unjust behaviour of the people of Athens to their 
 generals, among m.any other instances dwell upon 
 the banishment of Themistocles, the imprison- 
 ment of Miltiades, the fine imposed upon Pericles, 
 and the death of Paches, who, upon receiving 
 sentence, killed himself in the judgment-hall, at 
 the foot of the tribunal. N or do they forget the 
 banishment of Aristides, but they say not one 
 word of this condemnation. 
 
 Besides, his monument is still to be seen at 
 Phalereum, and is said to have been erected at 
 the public charge, because he did not leave 
 enough to defray the expenses of his funeral. 
 They inform us too, that the city provided for 
 the marriage of his daughters, and that each of 
 them had 3000 drachintB to her portion out of the 
 treasury : and to his son Lysimachus the people 
 of Athens gave 100 vtince of silver, and a planta- 
 tion of as many acres of land, with a pension of 
 four drachmae a day ; * the whole being confirmed 
 to him by a decree drawn up by Alcibiades. Cal- 
 listhenes adds, that Lysimachus at his death 
 leaving a daughter named Polycrite, the people 
 ordered her the same subsistence with those that 
 had conquered at the Olympic games. Demetrius 
 the Phalerean, Hieronymus of Rhodes, Aristo- 
 xenus the musician, and Aristotle himself (if the 
 treatise concerning nobility is to be reckoned 
 among his genuine works), relate, that Myrto, 
 a grand-daughter of Aristides, was married to 
 Socrates the philosopher, who had another wife 
 at the same time, but took her, because she was 
 in extreme want, and remained a widow on 
 account of her poverty. But this is sufficiently con- 
 futed by Pansetius, in his life of that philosopher. 
 
 The same Demetrius, in his account of Socrates, 
 tells us, he remembered one Lysimachus, grand- 
 son to Aristides, who plied constantly near the 
 tem.ple of Bacchus, having certain tables by 
 which he interpreted dreams for a livelihood : 
 and that he himself procured a decree, by which 
 his mother and aunt had three oboli a day each 
 allowed for their subsistence. He further ac- 
 quaints us, that when afterwards he undertook 
 to reform the Athenian laws, he ordered each of 
 these women a drachma a day. Nor is it to be 
 wondered at that this people took so much care 
 of those that lived with them in Athens, when 
 having heard that a grand-daughter of Aristogiton 
 lived in mean circumstances in Lemnos, and con- 
 
 * Though this may seem no extraordinary 
 matter to us, being only about half-a-crown of 
 our money, yet in those days it was. For an 
 ambassador was allowed only two drachmae a 
 day, as appears from the Acharnenses of Aris- 
 tophanes. The poet_ indeed speaks of one sent 
 to the king of Persia, at whose court an am- 
 bassador was pretty sure to be enriched. 
 
CATO THE CENSOR, 
 
 243 
 
 tinued unmarried by reason of her poverty, they 
 sent for her to Athens, and married her to a nmn 
 of a considerable family, giving her for a portion 
 an estate in the borough of Potamos. That city. 
 
 even in our days, continues to give so many 
 proofs of her benevolence and humanity, that 
 she is deservedly admired and applauded by all 
 the world. 
 
 CATO THE CENSOR. 
 
 It is said that Marcus Cato was bom at Tusculum, 
 of which place his family originally was, and that 
 be!"ore he was concerned in civil or military affairs, 
 he lived upon an estate which his father left him 
 near the country of the Sabines. Though his 
 ancestors were reckoned to have been persons of 
 no note, yet Cato himself boasts of his father as 
 a brave man and an excellent soldier, and assures 
 us, that his grandfather Cato received several 
 military rewards, and that having had five horses 
 killed under him, he had the value of them paid 
 him out of the treasury, as an acknowledgment 
 of his gallant behaviour. As the Romans always 
 gave the appellation of new men* to those who, 
 having no honours transmitted to them from their 
 ancestors, began to distinguish themselves, they 
 mentioned Cato by the same style : but he used 
 to say, he was indeed rtew with respect to offices 
 and dignities, but with regard to the services and 
 virtues of his ancestors, he was very ancient. 
 
 His third name, at first, was not Cato, but 
 Priscus. It was afterwards changed to that of 
 Cato, on account of his great wisdom; for the 
 Romans call wise men Catos. He had red hair 
 and grey eyes, as this epigram ill-naturedly 
 enough declares : 
 
 With eyes so grey and hair so red. 
 
 With tusks so sharp and keen, 
 
 Thou’lt fright the shades when thou art dead. 
 And hell won’t let thee in. 
 
 Inured to labour and temperance, and brought 
 up, as it were, in camps, he had an excellent con- 
 stitution with respect to strength as well as health. 
 And he considered eloquence as a valuable con- 
 tingent, an instrument of great things, not only 
 useful but necessary for every man who does not 
 choose to live obscure and inactive ; for which 
 reason he exercised and improved that talent in 
 the neighbouring boroughs and villages, by under- 
 taking the causes of such as applied to him ; so 
 that he was soon allowed to be an able pleader, 
 and afterwards a good orator. 
 
 From this time, all that conversed with him 
 discovered in him such a gravity of behaviour, 
 such a dignity and depth of sentiment, as qualified 
 him for the greatest affairs in the most respectable 
 
 * The jus imaginum was annexed to the great 
 offices of state, and none had their statues or 
 pictures but such as had borne those offices. 
 Therefore he who had the pictures of his ances- 
 tors, was called noble, he who had only his own, 
 was called a new man ; and he who had neither 
 the one nor the other, was called ignoble. So 
 says Asconius. But it does not appear, that a 
 man who had borne a great office, the consulate 
 for instance, was ignoble because he had not his 
 ^atue or picture ; for he might not choose it. 
 Cato himself did not choose it : his reason we 
 suppose was because he had none of his ances- 
 tors ; though he was pleased to assign another. 
 
 government in the world. For he was not only 
 so disinterested as to plead without fee or reward, 
 but it appeared that the honour to be gained in 
 that department was not his principal view. His 
 ambition was military glory ; and when yet but 
 a youth, he had fought in so many battles that 
 his breast was full of scars. He himself tells us, 
 he made his first campaign at seventeen years of 
 age, when Hannibal in the height of his prosperity 
 was laying Italy waste with fire and sword. In 
 battle he stood firm, had a sure and executing 
 hand, a fierce countenance, and spoke to his 
 enemy in a threatening and dreadful accent ; for 
 he rightly judged, and endeavoured to convince 
 others, that such a kind of behaviour often strikes 
 an adversary with greater terror than the sword 
 itself. He always marched on foot, and carried 
 his own arms, followed only by one servant who 
 carried his provisions. And it is said, he never 
 was angry or found fault with that servant, what- 
 ever he set before him; but when he was at 
 leisure from niilitary duty, would ease and assist 
 him in dressing it. All the time he was in the 
 army, he drank nothing but v/ater, except that 
 when almost burned up with thirst he would ask 
 for a little vinegar, or when he found his strength 
 and spirits exhausted he would take a little wine. 
 
 Near his country-seat was a cottage, which 
 formerly belonged to Manius Curius,* who was 
 thrice honoured with a triumph. Cato often 
 walked thither, and reflecting on the smallness 
 of the farm and the meanness of the dwelling, 
 used to think of the peculiar virtues of Dentatus, 
 who, though he was the greatest man in Rome, 
 had subdued the most warlike nations, and driven 
 Pyrrhus out of Italy, cultivated this little spot 
 of ground with his own hands, and after three 
 triumphs lived in this cottage. Here the am- 
 bassadors of the Samnites found him in the 
 chimney-corner dressing turnips, and offered him 
 a large present of gold ; but he absolutely refused 
 it, and gave them this answer : “A man who can 
 be satisfied with such a supper has no need of 
 gold ; and I think it more glorious to conquer 
 the owners of it, than to have it myself.” Full 
 of these thoughts, Cato returned home, and taking 
 a view of his own estate, his servants, and manner 
 of living, added to his own labour, and retrenched 
 his unnecessary expenses. 
 
 When Fabius Maximus took the city of Taren- 
 tum, Cato, who was then very young, t served 
 
 * Manius Curius Dentatus triumphed twice in 
 his first consulate, in the four hundred and sixty- 
 third year of Rome, first over the Samnites, and 
 afterwards over the Sabines. And eight years 
 after that, in his third consulate, he triumphed 
 over Pyrrhus. After this, he led up the less 
 triumph, called Ovation, for his victory over the 
 Lucanians. 
 
 t Fabius Maximus took Tarentum in his fifth 
 consulate, in the year of Rome 544. Cato was 
 
244 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 under him. Happening at that time to lodge 
 with a Pythagorean philosopher named Near- 
 chus, he desired to hear some of his doctrine ; 
 and learning from him the same maxims which 
 Plato advances, — that pleasure is the greatest 
 incentive to evil ; that the greatest burden and 
 calamity to the soul is the body, from which she 
 cannot disengage herself, but by such a wise use 
 of reason as shall wean and separate her from all 
 corporeal passions, — he became still more attached 
 to frugality and temperance. Yet it is said that 
 he learned Greek very late, and was considerably 
 advanced in years when he began to read the 
 Grecian writers, among whom he improved his 
 eloquence, somewhat by Thuc5'’dides, but by De- 
 mosthenes very greatly. Indeed his own writings 
 are sufficiently adorned with precepts and ex- 
 amples borrowed from the Greek, and among 
 his maxims and sentences we find niany that 
 are literally translated from the same originals. 
 
 At that time there flourished a Roman noble- 
 man of great power and eminence, called Valerius 
 Flaccus, whose penetration enabled him to dis- 
 tinguish a rising genius and virtuous disposition, 
 and whose benevolence inclined him to encourage 
 and conduct it in the path of glory. This noble- 
 man had an estate contiguous to Cato’s where he 
 often heard his servants speak of his neighbour’s 
 laborious and temperate manner of life. They 
 told him that he used to go early in the morning 
 to the little towns in the neighbourhood, and 
 defend the causes of such as applied to him ; that 
 from thence he would return to his farm, where, 
 in a coarse frock if it was winter, and naked if it 
 was summer, he would labour with his domestics, 
 and afterwards sit down with them, and eat the 
 same kind of bread, and drink of the same wine. 
 They related also many other instances of his 
 condescension and moderation, and mentioned 
 several of his short sayings that were full of wit 
 and good sense. Valerius, charmed with his 
 character, sent him an invitation to dinner. From 
 that time, by frequent conversation, he found in 
 him so much sweetness of temper and ready wit, 
 that he considered him as an excellent plant, 
 which wanted only cultivation, and deserved to 
 be removed to a better soil. He therefore per- 
 suaded him to go to Rome, and apply himself 
 to affairs of state. 
 
 There his pleadings soon procured him friends 
 and admirers ; the interest of Valerius, too, 
 greatly assisted his rise to preferment ; so that he 
 was first made a tribune of the soldiers, and after- 
 wards quaestor. And having gained great repu- 
 tation and honour in those employments, he was 
 joined with Valeiius himself in the highe.st 
 dignities, being his colleague both as consul and 
 as censor. 
 
 Among all the ancient senators, he attached 
 himself chiefly to Fabius Maximus, not so much 
 on account of the great power and honour he had' 
 acquired, as for the sake of his life and manners, 
 which Cato considered as the best model to form 
 himself upon. So that he made no scruple of 
 differing with the great Scipio, who, though at 
 that time but a young man, yet actuated by a 
 spirit of emulation, was the person who most 
 opposed the power of Fabius. For being sent 
 
 quaestor with Scipio to the war in Africa, and 
 perceiving that he indulged himself, as usual, in 
 an unbounded expense, and lavished the public 
 money upon the troops, he took the liberty to 
 remonstrate ; observing, that the expense itself 
 was not the greatest evil, but the consequence of 
 that expense, since it corrupted the ancient 
 simplicity of the soldiery, who when they had 
 more money than was necessary for their sub- 
 sistence, were sure to bestow it upon luxury and 
 riot. Scipio answered, he had no need of a very 
 exact and frugal treasurer, because he intended to 
 spread all his sails in the ocean of war, and be- 
 cause his country expected from him an account 
 of services performed, not of money expended. 
 Upon this Cato left Sicily, and returned to Rome, 
 where, together with Fabius, he loudly complained ' 
 to the senate of Scipio’s immense profusion, and 
 of his passing his time, like a boy, in wrestling- 
 rings and theatres, as if he had not been sent out 
 to make war, but to exhibit games and shows. 
 In consequence of this, tribunes were sent to 
 examine into the affair, with orders, if the accusa- 
 tion proved true, to bring Scipio back to Rome. 
 Scipio represented to them, that success depended 
 entirely upon the greatness of the preparations, 
 and made them sensible, that though he spent his 
 hours of leisure in a cheerful manner with his 
 friends, his liberal way of living had not caused 
 him to neglect any great or important business. 
 With this defence the commissioners were satis- 
 fied, and he set sail for Africa. 
 
 As for Cato, he continued to gain so much in- 
 fluence and authority by his eloquence, that he 
 was commonly called the Roman Demosthenes ; 
 but he was still more celebrated for his manner of 
 living. His excellence as a speaker awakened a 
 general emulation among the youth to distinguish 
 themselves the same way, and to surpass each 
 other ; but few were willing to imitate him in the 
 ancient custom of tilling the field with their own 
 hands, in eating a dinner prepared without fire, 
 and a spare frugal supper ; few, like him, could 
 be satisfied with a plain dress and a poor cottage, 
 or think it more honourable not to want the 
 superfluities of life, than to possess them. For 
 the commonwealth now no longer retained its 
 primitive purity and integrity, by reason of the 
 vast extent of its dominions : the many different 
 affairs under its management, and the^ infinite 
 number of people that were subject to its com- 
 mand, had introduced a great variety of customs 
 and inodes of living. J ustly, therefore, was Cato 
 entitled to admiration, when the other citizens 
 were frightened at labour, and enervated by 
 pleasure, and he alone was unconquered by either, 
 not only while young and ambitious, but when 
 old and grey-haired, after his consulship and 
 triumph ; like a brave wrestler, who after he has 
 come off conqueror, observes the common rules, 
 and continues his exercises to the last. 
 
 He himself tells us that he never wore a garment 
 that cost him more than loo drachmas ; that even 
 when praetor or consul he drank the same wine 
 with his slaves ; that a dinner never cost him from 
 the market above thirty ases ; and that he was 
 thus frugal for the sake of his country, that he 
 might be able to endure the harder services in 
 war. He adds, that having got among some 
 goods he was heir to, a piece of Babylonian 
 tapestry, he sold it immediately ; that the walls 
 of his country-houses were neither plastered nor 
 
 then twenty-three years old ; but he had made 
 his first campaign under the same Fabius five 
 years before. 
 
 - -- 
 
CATO THE CENSOR. 
 
 245 
 
 white-washed ; that he never gave more for a 
 slave than 1500 drachmas y as not requiring in his 
 servants delicate shapes and fine faces, but 
 strength and ability to labour, that they might 
 ♦be fit to be employed in his stables, about his 
 cattle, or such like business ; and these he thought 
 proper to sell again when they grew old, * that he 
 might have no useless persons to maintain. In a 
 word, he thought nothing cheap that was super- 
 fluous ; that what a man has no need of is dear 
 even at a penny ; and that it is much better to 
 have fields where the plough goes or cattle feed, 
 than fine gardens and walks that require much 
 watering and sweeping. 
 
 Some imputed these things to a narrowness of 
 spirit, while others supposed that he betook him- 
 self to this contracted manner of living, in order 
 to correct by his example the growing luxury of 
 the age. For my part, I cannot but charge his 
 using his servants like so many beasts of burden, 
 and turning them off, or selling them, when grown 
 old, to the account of a mean and ungenerous 
 spirit, which thinks that the sole tie between man 
 and man is interest or necessity. But goodness 
 moves in a larger sphere than justice : the obliga- 
 tions of law and equity reach only to mankind, 
 but kindness and beneficence should be extended 
 to creatures of every species ; and these still flow 
 from the breast of a well-natured man, as streams 
 that issue from the living fountain. A good man 
 will take care of his horses and dogs, not only 
 while they are young, but when old and past 
 service. Thus the people of Athens, when they 
 had finished the temple called H ecatompedon, set 
 at liberty the beasts of burden that had been 
 chiefly employed in that work, suffering them to 
 pasture at large, free from any further service. It 
 is said, that one of these afterwards came of its 
 own accord to work, and putting itself at the head 
 of the labouring cattle, marched before them to 
 the citadel. This pleased the people, and they 
 made a decree that it should be kept at the public 
 charge as long as it lived. The graves of Cimon’s 
 mares, with which he thrice conquered at the 
 Olympic games, are still to be seen near his own 
 tomb. Many have shown particular marks of 
 regard in burying the dogs which they had 
 cherished and been fond of ; and, among the rest, 
 Xanthippus, of old, whose dog swam by the side 
 of his galley to Salamis, when the Athenians were 
 forced to abandon their city, was afte 3 *wards 
 buried by his master upon a promontory, which 
 to this day is called the dogs grave. We cer- 
 tainly ought not to treat living creatures like 
 shoes or household goods, which, when worn out 
 with use, we throw away ; and were it only to 
 learn benevolence to humankind, we should be 
 merciful to other creatures. For my own part, I 
 would not sell even an old ox that had laboured 
 
 * Cato says in express terms, “A master of a 
 family should sell his old oxen, and all the horned 
 cattle that are of a delicate frame ; all his sheep 
 that are not hardy, their wool, their very pelts ; 
 he should sell his old waggons, and his old instru- 
 ments ot husbandry ; he should sell such of his 
 slaves as are old or infirm, and everything else 
 that is old or useless. A master of a family 
 should love to sell, not to buy.” What a fine 
 contrast there i§ between the spirit of this old 
 stoic, and that of the liberal-minded, the benevo- 
 lent Plutarch ! 
 
 for me ; much less would I remove, for the sake 
 of a little money, a man grown old in my service, 
 from his usual place and diet ; for to him, poor 
 man ! it would be as bad as banishment ; since he 
 could be of no more use to the buyer than he was 
 to the seller. But Cato, as if he took a pride in 
 these things, tells us, that, when consul, he left 
 his war-horse in Spain, to save the public the 
 charge of his freight. Whether such things as 
 these are instances of greatness or littleness of 
 soul, let the reader judge for himself. 
 
 He was, however, a man of wonderful temper- 
 ance. For, when general of the army, he took 
 no more from the public, for himself and those 
 about him, than three Attic medhnni of wheat a 
 month ; and less than a medimnus and a half of 
 barley for his horses. And when he was governor 
 of Sardinia, though his predecessors had put the 
 province to a very great expense for pavilions, 
 bedding, and apparel, and still more by the 
 number of friends and servants they had about 
 them, and by the great and sumptuous entertain- 
 ments the}'- gave, he, on the contrary, was as 
 remarkable for his frugality. Indeed, he put 
 the public to no manner of charge. Instead of 
 making use of a carriage, he walked from one 
 town to another, attended only by one officer, 
 who c^ried his robe and a vessel for libations. 
 But if in these things he appeared plain and easy 
 to those that were under his command, he pre- 
 served a gravity and severity in everj'thing else. 
 For he was inexorable in whatever related to 
 public justice, and inflexibly rigid in the execu- 
 tion of his orders ; so that the Roman government 
 had never before appeared to that people either 
 so awful or so amiable.* 
 
 This contrast was found, not only in his 
 manners, but in his style, which was elegant, 
 facetious, and familiar, and at the same time 
 grave, nervous, and sententious. Thus Plato 
 tells us, “the outside of Socrates was that of a 
 satyr and buffoon, but his soul was all virtue, and 
 from within him came such divine and pathetic 
 things as pierced the heart, and drew tears from 
 the hearers.” And as the same may justly be 
 affirmed of Cato, I cannot comprehend their 
 meaning, who compare his language to that of 
 Lysias. I leave this, however, to be decided 
 by those who are more capable than myself of 
 judging of the several sorts of style used among 
 the Romans : and being persuaded that a man’s 
 disposition may be discovered much better by his 
 speech than by his looks (though some are of a 
 different opinion), I shall set down some of Cato's 
 remarkable sayings. 
 
 One day when the Romans clamoured violently 
 and unseasonably for a distribution of corn, to 
 dissuade them from it, he thus began his address : 
 
 “ It is a difficult task, my fellow-citizens, to speak 
 to the belly, because it hath no ears.” Another 
 time, complaining of the luxury of the Romans, 
 he said, “It was a hard matter to save that city 
 from ruin where a fish was sold for more than an 
 ox.” On another occasion, he said the Roman 
 people were “like sheep, for as those can scarce 
 be brought to stir singly, but all in a body readily 
 
 * His only amusement was to hear the instruc- 
 tions of the poet Ennius, under whom ne learned 
 the Greek sciences. He banished usurers from 
 his province, and reduced the interest upon loans 
 almost to nothing. 
 
246 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 follow their leaders, just such are ye. The men 
 whose counsel you would not take as individuals, 
 lead you with ease in a crowd.” Speaking of the 
 power of women, he said, “All men naturally 
 govern the women, we govern all men, and our 
 wives govern us.” But this might be taken from 
 the Apothegms of Themistocles. For, his son 
 directing in most things through his mother, he 
 said, “The Athenians govern the Greeks, I 
 govern the Athenians, you, wife, govern me, and 
 your son governs you ; let him then use that 
 power with moderation, which, child as he is, 
 sets him above all the Greeks.” Another of 
 Cato’s sayings was, that the Roman people fixed 
 the value, not only of the several kinds of colours, 
 but of the arts and sciences. “ For,” added he* 
 “as the dyers dye that sort of purple which is 
 most agreeable to you, so our youth only study 
 and strive to excel in such things as you esteem 
 and commend.” Exhorting the people to virtue 
 he said, “ If it is by virtue and temperance that 
 j^ou are become great, change not for the worse ; 
 but if by intemperance and vice, change for the 
 better ; for you are already great enough by such 
 means as these.” Of such as were perpetually 
 soliciting for great offices, he said that, like men 
 who knew not their way, they wanted lictors 
 always to conduct them. He found fault with 
 the people for often choosing the same persons 
 consuls; “You either,” said he, “think the con- 
 sulate of little worth, or that there are but few 
 worthy of the consulate.” Concerning one of his 
 enemies who led a very profligate and infamous 
 life, he said, “ His mother takes it for a curse 
 and not a prayer, when any one wishes this son 
 may survive her.” Pointing to a man who had 
 sold a paternal estate near the sea-side, he pre- 
 tended to admire him, as one that was stronger 
 than the sea itself; “For,” said he, “what the 
 sea could not have swallowed without difficulty, 
 this man has taken down with all the ease imagin- 
 able.” When king Eumenes* came to Rome, 
 the senate received him with extraordinary re- 
 spect, and the great men strove which should do 
 him the most honour, but Cato visibly neglected 
 and shunned him. Upon which somebody said, 
 
 “ Why do you shun Eumenes, who is so good 
 a man, and so great a friend to the Romans?” 
 "That may be,” answered Cato, “but I look 
 upon a king as a creature that feeds upon human 
 flesh ; and of all the kings that have been so 
 much cried up, I find not one to be compared 
 with an Epaminondas, a Pericles, a Themistocles, 
 a Manius Curius, or with Hamilcar surnamed 
 Barcas.” He used to say, that his enemies hated 
 him, because he neglected his own concerns, and 
 rose before day to mind those of the public : but 
 that he had rather his good actions should go 
 unrewarded, than his bad ones unpunished ; and 
 that he pardoned everybody’s faults sooner than 
 his own. The Romans having sent three am- 
 bassadors to the king of Bythinia, of whom one 
 had the gout, another had his skull trepanned, 
 and the third was reckoned little better than a 
 fool, Cato smiled, and said, they had sent an em- 
 bassy which had neither feet, head, nor heart. 
 When Scipio applied to him, at the request of 
 Polybius, in behalf of the Achaean exiles,! and 
 
 the matter was much canvassed in the senate 
 some speaking for their being restored, and some 
 against it, Cato rose up, and said, “As if we had 
 nothing else to do, we sit here all day debatino- 
 whether a few poor old Greeks shall be buried by 
 our grave-diggers or those of their own country ” 
 The senate then decreed, that the exiles should 
 return home; and Polybius, some days after 
 endeavoured to procure another meeting of that 
 respectable body, to restore those exiles to their 
 former honours in Achaia. Upon this affair he 
 sounded Cato, who ans's^^ered, smiling “This 
 was just as if Ulysses should have wanted to 
 enter the Cyclops’ cave again for a hat and a 
 belt which he had left behind.” It was a saying 
 men learn more from fools, 
 than fools from the wise ; for the wise avoid the 
 error of fools, while fools do not profit by the 
 examples of the wise.” Another of his sayings 
 was, that he liked a young man that blushed, 
 more than one that turned pale ; and that he did 
 not like a soldier who moved his hands in march- 
 ing and his feet in fighting, and who snored 
 louder in bed than he shouted in battle. Jestinc^ 
 upon a very fat man, he said, “ Of what servicS 
 to his country can such a body be, which is 
 nothing but belly?” When an epicure desired 
 to be admitted into his friendship, he said he 
 could not live with a man whose palate had 
 quicker sensations than his heart. He used to 
 say, the soul of a lover lived in the body of 
 another : and that in all his life he never repented 
 but of three things— the first was, that he had 
 trusted a woman with a secret ; the second, that 
 he had gone by sea, when he might have gone by 
 land , and the third, that he had passed one day 
 without having a will by him.* * To an old 
 debauchee, he said, “ Old age has deformities 
 enough of its own : do not add to it the deformity 
 of vice.” A tribune of the people, who had the 
 character of a poisoner, proposing a bad law, and 
 taking great pains to have it passed, Cato said to 
 him, “Young man, I know not which is most 
 dangerous, to drink what you mix, or to enact 
 what you propose.” Being scurrilously treated 
 by a man who led a dissolute and infamous life, 
 he said, “ It is upon very unequal terms that I 
 contend with you ; for you are accustomed to be 
 spoken ill of, and can speak it with pleasure; but 
 with me it is unusual to hear it, and disagree- 
 able to speak it.” Such was the manner of his 
 repartees and short sayings. 
 
 Being appointed consul along with his friend 
 Valerius Flaccus, the government of that part of 
 Spain vvhich the Romans call citerior, hither, 
 fell to his lot.t While he was subduing some of 
 
 * Eumenes went to Rome in the year of Rome 
 581. Cato was then thirty-nine years old. 
 t The Achseans, in the first year of the hundred 
 
 and fifty-third olympiad, entered into measures 
 for delivering up their country to the king of 
 Persia, but, being discovered, a thousand of them 
 were seized, and compelled to live exiles in Italy. 
 There they continued seventeen years ; a;ter 
 which, about three hundred, who were still living, 
 were restored by a decree of the senate, which 
 was particularly made in favour of Polybius, who 
 was one of the number. 
 
 * This has been misunderstood by all the 
 translators, who have agreed in rendering it, 
 “ that he had passed one day idly.” 
 
 t As Cato’s troops consisted, f^or the most part, 
 of raw soldiers, he took great pains to discipline 
 them, considering that they had to deal with the 
 
CATO THE CENSOR. 
 
 247 
 
 the nations there by arms, and winning others 
 by kindness, a great army of barbarians fell upon 
 him, and he was in danger of being driven out 
 in dishonour. On this occasion he sent to desire 
 succours of his neighbours the Celtiberians, who 
 demanded 200 talents for that service. All the 
 officers of his army thought it intolerable, that 
 the Romans should be obliged to purchase assist- 
 ance of the barbarians ; but Cato said, “It is no 
 such great hardship ; for if we conquer, we shall 
 pay them at the enemy’s expense ; and if we are 
 conquered, there will be nobody either to pay or 
 make the demand.” He gained the battle, and 
 everything after\vards succeeded to his wish. 
 Polybius tells us, that the walls of all the Spanish 
 towns on this side the river Baetis were razed by 
 his command in one day,* * notwithstanding the 
 towns were numerous, and their inhabitants 
 brave ; Cato himself says, he took more cities 
 than he spent days in Spain : nor is it a vain 
 boast ; for they were actually no fewer than 400. 
 Though this campaign afforded the soldiers great 
 booty, he gave each of them a pound weight of 
 silver besides, saying, it was better that many 
 of the Romans should return with silver in their 
 pockets, than a few with gold. And for his own 
 part, he assures us, that of all that was taken in 
 the war, nothing came to his share but what he 
 ate and drank. “Not that I blame,” says he, 
 “ those that seek their own advantage in these 
 things ; but I had rather contend for valour with 
 the brave, than for wealth with the rich, or in 
 rapaciousness with the covetous. ” And he not 
 only kept himself clear of extortion, but all that 
 were immediately under his direction. He had 
 five servants with him in this expedition, one of 
 whom, named Paccus, had purchased three boys 
 that were among the prisoners : but when he 
 knew that his master was informed of it, unable 
 to bear the thoughts of coming into his presence, 
 he hanged himself. Upon which Cato sold the 
 boys and put the money into the public treasury'. 
 
 While he was settling the affairs of Spain, Scipio 
 the Great, who was his enemy, and wanted to 
 break the course of his success, and have the 
 finishing of the war himself, managed matters so 
 as to get himself appointed his successor. After 
 which he made all possible haste to take the 
 command of the army from him. But Cato hear- 
 ing of his march, took five companies of foot, 
 and 500 horse, as a convoy to attend upon Scipio, 
 and as he went to meet him, defeated the Lace- 
 
 Spaniards, who, in their wars with the Romans 
 and Carthaginians, had learned the military art, 
 and were naturally brave and courageous. Before 
 he came to action, he sent away his fleet, that 
 his soldiers might place all their hopes in their 
 valour. With the same view, when he came 
 near the enemy, he took a compass, and posted 
 his army behind them in the plain ; so that the 
 Spaniards were between him and his camp. 
 
 * As the dread of his name procured him 
 great respect in all the provinces beyond the 
 Iberus, he wrote the same day private letters to 
 the commanders of several fortified towns, order- 
 ing them to demolish without delay their fortifica- 
 tions ; and assuring them that he would pardon 
 none but such as readily complied with his orders. 
 Every one of the commanders believing the orders 
 to be sent only to himself, immediately beat 
 down their walls and towers. Liv. 1 . xxxiv. c. 15. 
 
 tanians, and took among them 600 Roman 
 deserters, whom he caused to be put to death. 
 And upon Scipio s expressing his displeasure at 
 this, he answered ironically, that Rome would 
 be great indeed, if men of birth would not yield 
 the palm of \nrtue to the commonalty, and if 
 plebeians, like himself, would contend for excel- 
 lence with men of birth and quality. Besides, 
 as the senate had decreed that nothing should’ 
 be altered which Cato had ordered and established, 
 the post which Scipio had made so much interest 
 for, rather tarnished his own glory than that 
 of Cato ; for he continued inactive during that 
 government. 
 
 In the mean time, Cato was honoured with a 
 triumph. But he did not act aftei^vards like 
 those whose ambition is only for fame, and not 
 for virtue, and who having reached the highest 
 honours, borne the office of consul and led up 
 triumphs, withdraw from public business, and 
 give up the rest of their days to ease and plea- 
 sure. On the contrary, like those who are just 
 entered upon business, and thirst for honour and 
 renown, he exerted himself as if he was beginning 
 his race anew, his services being always ready 
 both for his friends in particular, and for the 
 citizens in general, either at the bar or in the 
 field. For he went with the Consul Tiberius 
 Sempronius to Thrace and the Danube*, as his 
 lieutenant. And, as a legionary Tribune, he 
 attended Manius Acilius Glabrio into Greece, in 
 the war 'against Antiochus the Great ; who, next 
 to Hannibal, was the most formidable enemy the 
 Romans ever had. For having recovered almost 
 all the pro\nnces of Asia which Seleucus Nicanor 
 had possessed, and reduced many warlike nations 
 of barbarians, he was so much elated as to think 
 the Romans the only match for him in the field. 
 Accordingly he crossed the sea with a powerful 
 army, colouring his design with the specious 
 pretence of restoring liberty to the Greeks, of 
 which, however, they stood in no need ; for, being 
 lately delivered by the favour of the Romans 
 from the yoke of Philip and the ^lacedonians, 
 they were free already, and were governed by 
 their o^vn laws. 
 
 At his approach, all Greece was in great com- 
 motion, and unresolved how to act ; being 
 corrupted with the splendid hopes infused by the 
 orators whom Antiochus had gained. Acilius, 
 therefore, sent ambassadors to the several states ; 
 ffitus Flaminius appeased the disturbances, and 
 kept most of the Greeks in the Roman interest, 
 without^ using any violent means, as I have 
 related in his life ; and Cato confirmed the people 
 of Corinth, as well as those of Patrae and .^gium 
 in their duty. He also made a considerable 
 stay at Athens ; and it is said, there is still extant 
 a speech of his, which he delivered to the 
 Athenians in Greek, expressing his admiration 
 of the virtue of their ancestors, and his satisfac- 
 tion in beholding the beauty and grandeur of their 
 city. But this account is not true, for he spoke 
 to them by an interpreter. Not that he was 
 ignorant of Greek ; but chose to adhere to the 
 customs of his country, and laugh at those who 
 admired nothing but what was Greek. He, 
 therefore, ridiculed Posthumius Albanus, who 
 had written a history in that language, and made 
 
 * The year after his Consulship, and the second 
 year of the hundred and forty-sixth olympiad. 
 
I^LUTARCJI^S LIVES. 
 
 248 
 
 an apology for the improprieties of expression, 
 saying, he ought to be pardoned, if he wrote it 
 by command of the ^ Amphictyons. We are 
 assured that the Athenians admired the strength 
 and conciseness of his language ; for what he 
 delivered in few words, the interpreter was 
 obliged to make use of many to explain ; inso- 
 much that he left them in the opinion, that the 
 expressions of the Greeks flowed only from the 
 lips, while those of the Romans came from the 
 heart.* 
 
 having blocked up the narrow pass 
 01 IPermopylse with his troops, and added walls 
 and entrenchments to the natural fortifications of 
 the place, sat down there unconcerned, thinking 
 ^e war could not touch him. And indeed the 
 Romans despaired of forcing the pass. But Cato 
 recollecting the circuit the Persians had taken on 
 a like occasion,! set out in the night with a 
 proper detachment. 
 
 When they had advanced a considerable height, 
 the guide, who was one of the prisoners, missed 
 his way, and wandering about among imprac- 
 ticable places and precipices, threw the soldiers 
 into inexpressible dread and despair. Cato seeino- 
 the danger, ordered his forces to halt, while h^ 
 with one Lucius Manlius, who was dexterous in 
 climbing the steep mountains, J went forward 
 with great difficulty and at the hazard of his life 
 at midnight without any moon ; scrambling among 
 wild olive-trees and steep rocks that still more 
 impeded his view, and added darkness to the 
 obscurity. At last they hit upon a path which 
 seemed to lead down to the enemy’s camp. There 
 they set up marks upon some of the most con- 
 spicuous rocks on the top of the mountain Calli- 
 dromus ; and returning the same way, took the 
 whole pany with them ; whom they conducted 
 by the direction of the marks, and so regained 
 tiie little path ; where they made a proper dis- 
 position of the troops. They had marched but 
 a little farther, when the path failed them, and 
 they saw nothing before them but a precipice 
 which distressed them still more ; for they could 
 not yet perceive that they were near the enemy. 
 
 i he day now began to appear, when one of 
 them thought he heard the sound of human voices 
 a little after they saw the Grecian camp, and 
 the advanced guard at the foot of the rock. Cato, 
 mereffire, made a halt, and sent to acquaint the 
 F irmians that he wanted to speak with them in 
 private. § These were troops whose fidelity and 
 
 n 
 
 There cannot be a stronger instance than 
 this, that the brief expression of the Spartans was 
 native simplicity of their manners, 
 and the sincerity of their hearts. It was the ex- 
 pression of nature — Artificial and circumlocutory 
 expression, like licentious paintings, are the con- 
 sequenees of licentious life. 
 
 t In the Persian war, Leonidas, with 300 Spar- 
 tans only, sustained the shock of an innumerable 
 multitude in the pass of Thermopylae, until the 
 barbarians, fetching a compass round the moun- 
 tains by by-ways, came upon him behind, and 
 cut his party in pieces. 
 
 X The mountains to the east of the Straits of 
 Ih^mopylae are comprehended under the name 
 of Oeta, and the highest of them is called Calli- 
 dromus, at the foot of which is a road sixty feet 
 broad. Liv. xxxvi. c. 15. 
 
 § Firmium was a Roman colony in Picene. 
 
 courage he had ^perienced on the most danger- 
 hastened into his presence, 
 when he thus addressed them : “I want to take 
 one of the enemy alive, to learn of him who they 
 are that compose this advanced guard, and how 
 many m number ; and to be informed what is the 
 disposition and order of their whole army and 
 what preparations they have made to receive us : 
 but the business requires the speed and impetu- 
 bSL°” rush mto a herd of timorous 
 
 speaking, the Firmians, 
 without further preparation, poured down the 
 mountain, surprised the advanced guard, dis- 
 persed them, took one armed man, and brought 
 him to Cato The prisoner informed him, that 
 the mam body of the army was encamped with 
 tfie king m the narrow pass, and that the detach- 
 ment which guarded the heights consisted of 600 
 select .^tohans. Cato, despising these troops, as 
 well on account of their small number, as their 
 negligence, drew his sword, and rushed upon 
 ^ alarm of voices and trumpets. 
 
 1 be .ditolians no sooner saw him descend from 
 the mountains, than they fled to the main body, 
 and put the whole in the utmost confusion 
 At the same time, Manius forced the entrench- 
 ments of Antiochus below, and poured into the 
 pass witn_ his army. Antiochus himself being 
 wounded in the mouth with a stone, and having 
 some of his teeth struck out, the anguish obliged 
 him to turn his horse and retire. After his re- 
 treat, no part of his army could stand the shock 
 01 the Romans; and though there appeared no 
 hopes of escapmg by flight, by reason of the 
 straitness of the road, the deep marshes on one 
 side and rocky precipices on the other, yet they 
 crowded along through those narrow passages, 
 and pushing each other down, perished miserably 
 out of fear of being destroyed by the Romans. 
 
 Cato, who was never sparing in his own praises, 
 and thought boasting a natural attendant on great 
 actions, IS very pompous in his account of this ex- 
 ploit. He says that those who .saw him charging- 
 the enemy, routing and pursuing them, declared, 
 that Cato owed less to the people of Rome, than 
 me people of Rome owed to Cato ; and that the 
 Consul Manius himself, coming hot From the 
 hght, took him in his arms as he too came panting 
 from the action, and embracing him a long time, 
 cried out, in a transport of joy, that neither he 
 nor the whole Roman people could sufficiently 
 reward Cato’s merit. 
 
 Immediately after the battle, the Consul sent 
 him with an account of it to Rome, that he might 
 be the first to carry the news of his own achieve- 
 ments. With a favourable wind he sailed to 
 Brundusium ; from thence he reached Tarentum 
 in one day : and having travelled four days more, 
 he arrived at Rome the fifth day after he landed, 
 and was the first that brought the news of the 
 victory. His arrival filled the city with sacrifices 
 and other testimonies of joy, and gave the people 
 so high an opinion of themselves, that they now 
 believed there could be no bounds to their empire 
 or their power. 
 
 These are the most remarkable of Cato*s actions; 
 and with respect to civil affairs, he appears to have 
 thought the impeaching of offenders, and bringing 
 them to justice, a thing that well deserved his 
 attention. For he prosecuted several, and en- 
 couraged and assisted others in carrying on their 
 
CATO THE CENSOR, 
 
 249 
 
 prosecutions. Thus he set up Petilius against 
 Scipio the Great ; but secure in the dimity of his 
 famil5>-, and his own greatness of mind, Scipio 
 treated the accusation with the utmost contempt. 
 Cato perceiving he wmuld not be capitally con- 
 demned, dropped the prosecution ; but with some 
 others who assisted him in the cause, impeached 
 hi brother Lucius Scipio, who was sentenced to 
 pay a fine which his circumstances could not 
 answer, so that he was in danger of imprison- 
 ment ; and it was not without great difficulty and 
 appealing to the Tribunes, that he w'as dismissed. 
 
 We have also an account of a young man who 
 had procured a verdict against an enemy of his 
 father who was lately dead, and had him stigma- 
 tized. Cato met him as he was passing through 
 the forum, and taking him by the hand, addressed 
 him in these words : ‘^It is thus we are to sacri- 
 fice to the manes of our parents, not with the 
 blood of goats and lambs, but with the tears and 
 condemnation of their enemies.” 
 
 Cato, however, did not escape these attacks ; 
 but when in the business of the state he gave the 
 least handle, was certainly prosecuted, and some- 
 times in danger of being condemned. For it is 
 said that near fifty impeachments were brought 
 against him, and the last, when he was eighty-six 
 years of age : on which occasion he made use of 
 that memorable expression, ‘‘It is hard that I 
 who have lived with men of one generation, 
 should be obliged to make my defence to those 
 of another.” Nor was this the end of his contests 
 at the bar; for, four years after, at the age of 
 ninety,* he impeached Servihus Galba : so that, 
 like Nestor, he lived three generations, and, like 
 him, was always in action. In short, after having 
 constantly opposed Scipio in matters of govern- 
 ment, he lived until the time of young Scipio, his 
 adopted grandson, and son of Paulus iFmilius, 
 who conquered Perseus and the Macedonians. 
 
 Ten 5’ears after his Consulship, Cato stood for 
 the ofi 5 ce of Censor, which was the highest dignity 
 in the republic. For, beside the other power and 
 authority that attended this ofiSce, it gave the 
 magistrate a right of inquiry into the fives and 
 manners of the citizens. The Romans did not 
 think it proper that any one should be left to 
 follow his own inclinations without inspection or 
 control, either in marriage, in the procreation of 
 children, in his table, or in the company he kept. 
 But, convinced that in these private scenes of life 
 a man’s real character was much more distinguish- 
 able than in his public and politcal transactions, 
 they appointed two magistrates, the one out of 
 the Patricians, and the other out of the Plebeians, 
 to inspect, to correct, and to chastise such as they 
 found giving into dissipation and licentiousness, 
 and deserting the ancient and established manner 
 of living. These great officers they called Cen- 
 
 * Plutarch here is not consistent with himself. 
 Towards the beginning of his fife he says that 
 Cato was but seventeen years old at the time of 
 Hannibal’s success in Italy; and at the conclusion 
 he tells that Cato died just at the beginning of 
 the third Punic war. But Hannibal came into 
 Italy in the year of Rome 534 ; and the third 
 Punic war broke out seventy years after, in the 
 year of Rome 604. According to this compu- 
 tation, Cato could not be more than eighty-seven 
 years old when he died ; and this account is con- 
 firmed by Cicero. 
 
 sore : and they had power to deprive a P^oman 
 knight of his horse, or to expel a senator that led 
 a vicious and disorderly life. They likewise took 
 an estimate of each citizen’s estate, and enrolled 
 them according to their pedigree, quality, and 
 condition. 
 
 This office has several other great prerogatives 
 annexed to it and therefore when Cato solicited 
 it, the principal senators opposed him. The 
 motive to this opposition with some of the Patri- 
 cians was envy : for they imagined it w'ould be a 
 disgrace to the nobility, if persons of a mean and 
 obscure origin were elevated to the highest honour 
 in_ the state ; \rith others it was fear : for, con- 
 scious that their lives were vicious, and that they 
 had departed from the ancient simplicity of man- 
 ners, they dreaded the austerity of Cato ; because 
 they believed he w'ould be stem and inexorable in 
 his office. Having consulted and prepared their 
 measures, they put up seven candidates in oppo- 
 sition to Cato ; and imagining that the people 
 wanted to be governed with an easy hand, they 
 soothed them with hopes of a mild Censorship. 
 Cato, on the contraiy% without condescending to 
 the least flattery or complaisance, in his speeches 
 from the rostmm, professed his resolution to 
 punish every instance of vice ; and loudly de- 
 claring that the city wanted great reformation, 
 conjured the people, if they were wise, to choose, 
 not the mildest, but the severest physician. He 
 told them that he was one of that character, and, 
 among the Patricians, Valerius Flaccus was an- 
 other ; and that with him for liis colleague, and 
 him only, he could hope to render good service to 
 the commonwealth, by efi'ectually cutting off, like 
 another hydra, the spreading luxury and effemi- 
 nacy of the times. He added,_ that he saw others 
 pressing into the Censorship, in order to exercise 
 that_ office in a bad manner, because they were 
 afraid of such as w’ould discharge it faithfully. 
 
 The Roman people, on this occasion, showed 
 themselves tmly great, and worthy of the best of 
 leaders ; for, far from dreading the severity of 
 this mflexible man, they rejected those smoother 
 candidates that seemed ready to consult their 
 pleasure in eveiyuhing, and chose Valerius Flaccus 
 w'ith Cato ; attending to the latter not as a man 
 that solicited the office of Censor, but as one who, 
 already possessed of it, gave out his orders b}* 
 virtue of his authority. 
 
 The first thing Cato did, was to name his friend 
 and colleague, Lucius Valerius Flaccus, chief of 
 the senate, and to expel many others the house ; 
 particularly Lucius Quintius, who had been 
 Consul seven years before, and, what w'as still a 
 greater honour, w^as brother to Titus Flaminius,* 
 who overthrew king Philip. 
 
 ^ ^ ^ It- if. 
 
 He expelled also Manifius, another senator, 
 whom the general opinion had marked out for 
 Consul, because he had given his w^ife a kiss in 
 the day-time in the sight of his daughter. “ For 
 his own part,” he said, “ his wife never embraced 
 him but wffien it thundered dreadfully,” adding, 
 by way of joke, that he was happy when Jupiter 
 pleased to thunder. 
 
 He w'as censured as having merely indulged 
 his envj’-, when he degraded Lucius, who w’as 
 brother to Scipio the Great, and had been 
 
 * Polybius, Li\ty, and Cicero make the surname 
 of this family Flaminius. 
 
honoured with a triumph ; for he took from him 
 his horse ; and it was believed he did it to insult 
 the memory of Scipio Africanus. But there was 
 another thing that rendered him more generally 
 obnoxious, and that was the reformation he intro- 
 duced in point of luxury. It was impossible for 
 him to begin his attack upon it openly, because 
 the whole body of the people was infected, and 
 therefore he took an indirect method. He caused 
 an estimate to be taken of all apparel, carriages, 
 female ornaments, furniture and utensils ; and 
 whatever exceeded 1500 drachmas in value, he 
 rated at ten times as much, and imposed a tax 
 according to that valuation. For every thousand 
 ases he made them pay three ; that finding them- 
 selves burdened with the tax, while the modest 
 and frugal, with equal substance, paid much less 
 to the public, they might be induced to retrench 
 their appearance. This procured him many 
 enemies, not only among those who, rather than 
 part with their luxury, submitted to the tax, but 
 among those who lessened the expense of their 
 figure, to avoid it. F or the generality of mankind 
 think that prohibition to show their wealth is the 
 same thing as taking it away, and that opulence 
 is seen in the superfluities, not in the necessaries 
 of life. And this (we are told) was what suiprised 
 Aristo the philosopher ; for he could not compre- 
 hend why those that are possessed of superfluities 
 should be accounted happy, rather than such as 
 abound in what is necessary and useful. But 
 Scopas the Thessalian, when one of his friends 
 asked him for something that could be of little 
 use to him, and gave him that as a reason why he 
 should grant his request, made answer, “ It is in 
 these useless and superfluous things that I am 
 rich and happy.” Thus the desire of wealth, far 
 from being a natural passion, is a foreign and 
 adventitious one, arising from vulgar opinion. 
 
 Cato paid no regard to these complaints, but 
 became still more severe and rigid. He cut off 
 the pipes by which people conveyed water from 
 the public fountains into their houses and gardens, 
 and demolished all the buildings that projected 
 out into the streets. He lowered the price of 
 public works, and farmed out the public revenues 
 at the highest rate they could bear. By these 
 things he brought upon himself the hatred of vast 
 numbers of people : so that Titus Flaminius and 
 his party attacked him, and prevailed with the 
 senate to annul the contracts he had made for 
 repairing the temples and public ‘buildings, as 
 detrimental to the state. Nor did they stop here, 
 but incited the boldest of the Tribunes to accuse 
 him to the people, and fine him two talents. 
 They likewise opposed him very much in his 
 building, at the public charge, a hall below the 
 senate-house by the foru 7 n, which ^ he finished 
 notwithstanding, and called the Porcian hall. 
 
 The people however, appear to have been 
 highly pleased with his behaviour in his office. 
 For when they erected his statue in the temple 
 of Health, they made no mention on the pedestal 
 of his victories and his triumph, but the inscrip- 
 tion was to this effect * “In honour of Cato the 
 Censor, who, when the Roman commonwealth 
 was degenerating into licentiousness, by^^ good 
 discipline and wise institutions restored it.” 
 Before this, he laughed at those who were 
 fond of such honours, and said they were not 
 aware that they plumed themselves upon the 
 workmanship of founders, statuaries, and painters, 
 
 while the Romans bore about a more glorious 
 image of him in their hearts. And to those that 
 expressed their wonder, that while many persons 
 of little note had their statues, Cato had none, 
 he said he had much rather it should be asked, 
 why he had not a statue, than why he had one. 
 In short, he was of opinion that a good citizen 
 should not even accept of his due praise, unless 
 it tended to the advantage of the communit)'. 
 Yet of all men he was the most forward to com- 
 mend himself : for he tells us, that those who 
 were guilty of misdemeanors, and afterwards 
 reproved for them, used to say they were ex- 
 cusable ; they were not Catos ; and that such as 
 imitated some of his actions, but did it awk- 
 wardly, were called left-harided Catos. He adds, 
 that the senate, in difficult and dangerous times, 
 used to cast their eyes upon him, as passengers 
 in a ship do upon the pilot in a storm : and that 
 when he happened to be absent, they frequently 
 put off the consideration of matters of import- 
 ance. These particulars, indeed, are confirmed 
 by other writers ; for his life, his eloquence, and 
 his age, gave him great authority in Rome. 
 
 He was a good father, a good husband, and an 
 excellent economist. And as he did not think 
 the care of his family a mean and trifling thing, 
 which required only a superficial attention, it 
 may be of use to give some account of his con- 
 duct in that respect. 
 
 He chose his wife rather for her family than 
 her fortune ; persuaded, that though both the 
 rich and the high-born have their pride, yet 
 women of good families are more ashamed of 
 any base and unworthy action, and more obedient 
 to their husbands in everything that is good and 
 honourable. He used to say, that they who 
 beat their wives or children, laid their sacrilegious 
 hands on the most sacred things in the world ; 
 and that he preferred the character of a good 
 husband to that of a great senator. And he 
 admired nothing more in Socrates than his living 
 in an easy and quiet manner with an ill-tempered 
 wife and stupid children. When he had a son 
 born, no business, however urgent, except it 
 related to the public, could hinder him from 
 being present while his wife washed and swaddled 
 the infant. For she suckled it herself ; nay, she 
 often gave the breast to the sons of her servants, 
 to inspire them with a brotherly regard for her 
 own. 
 
 As soon as the dawn of understanding ap- 
 peared, Cato took upon him the office of school- 
 master to his son, though he had a slave named 
 Chilo, who was a good grammarian, and taught 
 several other children. But he tells us, he did 
 not choose that his son should be reprimanded 
 by a slave, or pulled by the ears, if he happened 
 to be slow in learning : or that he should be 
 indebted to so mean a person for his education. 
 He was, therefore, himself his preceptor in 
 grammar, in law, and in the necessary exercises. 
 For he taught him not only how to throw a dart, 
 to fight hand to hand, and to ride, but to box, to 
 endure heat and cold, and to swim the most rapid 
 rivers. He farther acquaints us, that he wrote 
 histories for him with his own hand, in large 
 characters, that, without stirring out of his 
 father’s house, he might gain a knowledge of 
 the great actions of the ancient Romans and of 
 the customs of his country. He was as careful 
 not to utter an indecent word before his son, as 
 
CATO THE CENSOR. 2i;i 
 
 he would have been in the presence of the vestal 
 virgins ; nor did he ever bathe with him. A 
 regard to decency in this respect was indeed at 
 that time general among the Romans. For even 
 sons-in-law avoided bathing with their fathers-in- 
 law, not choosing to appear naked before them ; 
 but afterwards the Greeks taught them not to be 
 so scrupulous in uncovering themselves, and they 
 in their turn taught the Cheeks to bathe naked 
 even before the women. 
 
 While Cato was taking such excellent mea- 
 sures for forming his son to virtue, he found him 
 naturally ductile both in genius and inclination ; 
 but as his body was too weak to undergo much 
 hardship, his father was obliged to relax the 
 severity of his discipline, and to indulge him a 
 little in point of diet. Yet, with this constitution, 
 he was an excellent soldier, and particularly 
 distinguished lumself under Paulus ^milius in 
 the battle against Perseus. On this occasion, 
 his sword happening to be struck from his hand, 
 the moisture of which prev'ented him from grasp- 
 ing it firmly, he turned to some of his com- 
 panions with great concern, and begged their 
 assistance in recovering it. He then rushed 
 with them into the midst of the enemy, and 
 having, with extraordinary efforts, cleared the 
 place where the sword was lost, he found it, with 
 much difficulty, under heaps of arms, and dead 
 bodies of friends, as well as enemies, piled upon 
 each other. ^ Paulus yRmilius admired this gallant 
 action of the young man ; and there is a letter 
 still extant, written by Cato to his son, in which 
 he extremely commends his high sense of honour 
 expressed in the recovery of that sword. The 
 young man afterwards married Tertia, daughter 
 to Paulus iEmilius, and sister to young Scipio ; 
 the honour of which alliance was as much owing 
 to his own as to his father’s merit. Thus Cato’s 
 care in the education of his son answered the end 
 proposed. 
 
 He had many slaves which he purchased 
 among the captives taken in war, always choos- 
 in^g the youngest and such as were most capable 
 of instruction, like whelps or colts that may be 
 trained at pleasure. None of these slaves ever 
 went into any other man’s house, except they 
 were sent by Cato or his wife, and if any of them 
 was asked what his master was doing, he always 
 answered he did not know. For it was a rule 
 'v^th Cato to have his slaves either employed in 
 the house or asleep, and he liked those best that 
 slept the most kindly, believing that they were 
 better tempered than others that had not so 
 niuch of that refreshment, and fitter for any kind 
 of business. And as he knew that slaves will 
 stick at nothing to gratify their passion for 
 woinen, he allowed them to have the company of 
 ms feniale slaves, upon paying a certain price ; 
 but under a strict prohibition of approaching anv 
 other woman. o 
 
 When he was a young soldier, and as yet in 
 low circumstances, he never found fault with 
 anything that was served up to his table, but 
 thought It a shame to quarrel with a servant on 
 account of his palate. Yet afterwards, when he 
 possessed of an easy fortune, and made 
 emertainments for his friends and the principal 
 dinner was over, he never 
 leathern thongs such of his 
 attendance, or had 
 suffered anything to be spoiled. He contrived 
 
 means to raise quarrels among his servants, and 
 to keep them at variance, ever suspecting and 
 fearing some bad consequence from their una- 
 nimity. And, 
 
 When any of them were guilty of a capital 
 crime, he gave them a formal trial, and put them 
 to death m the presence of their fellow-servants. 
 As his thirst after wealth increased, and he found 
 that agriculture was rather amusing than profit- 
 able, he turned his thoughts to surer depend- 
 encies, and employed his money in purchasing 
 ponds, hot-baths, places proper for fullers, and 
 estates in good condition, having pasture ground 
 and woodlands. From these he had a great 
 revenue ; such a one, he used to say, as Jupiter 
 himself could not disappoint him of. 
 
 1.1 practised usury upon ships in the most 
 
 blamable manner. His method was to insist, 
 that those whom he furnished with money, should 
 take a great number into partnership. When 
 there were full fifty of them, and as many ships, 
 he demanded one share for himself, which he 
 man^aged by Quintio, hisfreedman, who sailed and 
 trafficked along with them. Thus, though his 
 gain was great, he did not risk his capital, but 
 only a small part of it. 
 
 He likewise lent money to such of his slaves as 
 chose it; and they employed it in purchasing 
 boys who were afterwards instructed and fitted 
 for service at Cato’s expense ; and being sold at 
 the year s end by auction, Cato took several of 
 them himself, at the price of the highest bidder 
 deducting it out of what he had lent. To incline 
 his son to the same economy, he told him that to 
 dimmish his substance was not the part of a man, 
 but of a widow-woman. Yet he carried the thing 
 to extravagance, when he hazarded this assertion 
 —that the man truly wonderful and godlike, and 
 fit to be registered in the lists of glory, was he, by 
 whose accounts it should at last appear that he 
 had more than doubled what he had received 
 from his ancestors. 
 
 When Cato was very far advanced in years 
 there amved at Rome, two ambassadors from 
 Athens, Cameades the Academic, and Diogenes 
 the Stoic. They were sent to beg off a fine of 
 500 talents wnich had been imposed on the Athe- 
 nians, for contumacy, by the Sicyonians, at the 
 suit of the people of Oropus.f Upon the arrival 
 of these philosophers, such of the Roman j'outh as 
 had a taste for learning went to wait on them 
 and heard them with wonder and delight. Above 
 all, they were charmed with the graceful manners 
 ot Carneades, the force of whose eloquence beincr 
 great and his reputation equal to his eloquence*^ 
 had drawn an audience of the most considerable 
 and the politest persons in Rome ; and the sound 
 ° u 1 ^ mighty wind, had filled the 
 
 whole city. The report ran, that there was come 
 from Greece a man of astonishing powers, whose 
 eloquence, more than human, was able to soften 
 and disarm the fiercest passions, and who had 
 made so strong an impression upon the youth, 
 that, forgetting all other pleasures and diversions. 
 
 * Aulus Gellius mentions a third ambassador 
 Cntolaus the Peripatetic. 
 
 t The Athenians had plundered the city of 
 Oropus, Upon complaint made by the inhabi- 
 tants, the affair was referred to the determination 
 of the Sicyonians, and the Athenians not appear- 
 mg to justify themselves, were fined 500 talents. 
 
252 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 they were quite possessed with an enthusiastic 
 love of philosophy. 
 
 The Romans were delighted to find it so ; nor 
 could they without uncommon pleasure behold 
 their sons thus fondly receive the Grecian litera- 
 ture, and follow these wonderful men. But Cato, 
 from the beginning, was alarmed at it. He no 
 sooner perceived this passion for the Grecian 
 learning prevail, but he was afraid that the youth 
 would turn their ambition that way, and prefer 
 the glory of eloquence to that of deeds of arms. 
 But when he found that the reputation of these 
 philosophers rose still higher, and their first 
 speeches were translated into Latin, by Caius 
 Acilius, a senator of great distinction, who had 
 earnestly begged the favour of interpreting them, 
 he had no longer patience, but resolved to dis- 
 miss these philosophers upon some decent and 
 specious pretence. 
 
 He went, therefore, to the senate, and com- 
 plained of the magistrates for detaining so long 
 such ambassadors as those, who could persuade 
 the people to whatever they pleased. “You 
 ought," said he, “ to determine their affair as 
 speedily as possible, that returning to their 
 schools they may hold forth to the Grecian youth, 
 and that our young men may again give attention 
 to the laws and the magistrates.” Not that Cato 
 was induced to this by any particular pique to 
 Carneades, which some suppose to have been the 
 case, but by his aversion to philosophy, and his 
 making it a point to show his contempt of the 
 polite studies and learning of the Greeks. Nay, 
 he scrupled not to affirm, that Socrates himself 
 was a prating seditious fellow, who used his 
 utmost endeavours to tyrannize over his country, 
 by abolishing its customs, and drawing the people 
 oyer to opinions contrary to the laws. And, to 
 ridicule the slow methods of Isocrates’s teaching, 
 he said that his scholars grew old in learning 
 their art, as if they intended to exercise it in the 
 shades below, and to plead causes there. And to 
 dissuade his son from those studies, he told him 
 in a louder tone than could be expected from a 
 man of his age, and, as it were, in an oracular 
 and prophetic way, that when the Romans came 
 thoroughly to imbibe the Grecian literature, they 
 would lose the empire of the world. But time 
 hq^ shown the vanity of that invidious assertion ; 
 for Rome was never at a higher pitch of great- 
 ness, than when she. was most perfect in the 
 Grecian erudition, and most attentive to all 
 manner of learning.* 
 
 Nor was Cato an enemy to the Grecian philo- 
 sophers only, but looked upon the physicians also 
 with a suspicious eye. He had heard, it seems, of 
 the answer which Hippocrates gave the king of 
 Persia, when he sent for him, and offered him a 
 reward of many talents, “I will never make use 
 of my art in favour of barbarians who are enemies 
 to the Greeks." This he had said was an oath 
 which all the physicians had taken, and there- 
 fore he advised his son to beware of them all. 
 He added, that he himself had written a little 
 treatise, in which he had set down his method of 
 
 * Rome had indeed a very extensive empire in 
 the Augustan age, but, at the same time, she lost 
 her ancient constitution and her liberty. Not 
 that the learning- of the Romans contributed to 
 that loss, but their irreligion, their luxury, and 
 corruption, occasioned it. 
 
 cure,* and the regimen he prescribed, when any of 
 his family were sick ; that he never recommended 
 fasting, but allowed them herbs, with duck, 
 pigeon, or hare : such kind of diet being light 
 and suitable for sick people, having no other in- 
 convenience but its making them dream ; and 
 that with these remedies and this regimen, he 
 preserved himself and his family. But his self- 
 sufficiency in this respect went not unpunished ; 
 for he lost both his wife and son. He himself, 
 indeed, by his strong make and good habit of 
 body, lasted long ; so that even in old age he 
 frequently indulged his inclination for the sex, 
 and at an unseasonable time of life married a 
 young woman. It was on the following pretence. 
 
 After the death of his wife, he married his son 
 to the daughter of Paulus ^Emilius, the sister of 
 Scipio ; and continued a widower, but had a 
 young female slave that came privately to his bed. 
 It could not, however, be long a secret in a small 
 house, with a daughter-in-law in it ; and one day 
 as the favourite slave passed by with a haughty 
 and flaunting air, to go to the Censor’s chamber, 
 young Cato gave her a severe look, and turned 
 his back upon her, but said not a word. The old 
 man was soon informed of this circumstance, and 
 finding that this kind of commerce displeased his 
 son and his daughter-in-law, he did not expostu- 
 late with them, nor take the least notice. Next 
 morning he went to the forum, according to cus- 
 tom, with his friends about him ; and as he went 
 along, he called aloud to one Salonius, who 
 had been his secretary, and now was one of his 
 train, and asked him whether he had provided a 
 husband for his daughter? Upon his answer- 
 ing, that he had not, nor should without con- 
 sulting his best friend ; Cato said, “ Why, then, 
 
 I have found out a very fit husband for her, if 
 she can bear with the disparity of age : for in 
 other respects he is unexceptionable, but he is 
 very old.” Salonius replying, that he left the 
 disposal of her entirely to him, for she was under 
 his protection, and had no dependence but upon 
 his bounty ; Cato said without farther cere- 
 mony, “ Then I will be your son-in-law." The 
 man at first was astonished at the proposal, as 
 may easily be imagined ; believing Cato past the 
 time of life for marrying, and knowing himself 
 far beneath an alliance with a family that had 
 been honoured with the consulate and a triumph. 
 But when he saw that Cato was in earnest, he 
 embraced the offer with joy, and the marriage 
 contract was signed as soon as they came to the 
 fortim. 
 
 While they were busied in preparing for the 
 nuptials, young Cato, taking his relations with 
 him, went and asked his father what offence 
 he had committed, that he was going to put 
 a mother-in-law upon him. Cato immediately 
 answered, “ Ask not such a question, my son ; 
 for, instead of being offended, I have reason to 
 praise your whole conduct : I am only desirous 
 
 Cato was a worse quack than Dr. Hill. His 
 medical receipts, which may be found in his 
 treatise of country affairs, are either very simple, 
 or very dangerous ; and fasting, which he ex- 
 ploded, is better than them all. Duck, pigeon, 
 and hare, which, if we may believe Plutarch, he 
 gave his sick people as a light diet, are certainly 
 the strongest and most indigestible kinds of food, 
 and their making them dream was a proof of it. 
 
CATO THE CENSOR. 
 
 253 
 
 of having more such sons, and leaving more such 
 citizens to my country.” But this answer is said 
 to have been given long before, by Pisistratus the 
 Athenian tyrant, who, when he had sons by a 
 former wife already grown up, married a second, 
 Timonassa of Argos, by whom he is said to have 
 had two sons more, Jophon and Thessalus. 
 
 By this wife Cato had a son, whom he called 
 Salonius after his mother’s father. As for his 
 eldest son Cato, he died in his prsetorship. ^ His 
 father often makes mention of him in his writings 
 as a brave and worthy man. He bore this loss 
 with the moderation of a philosopher, applying 
 himself with his usual activity to ^airs of state. 
 For he did not, like Lucius Lucullus afterw'ards, 
 and Metellus Pius, think age an exemption from 
 the service of the public, but considered that 
 service as his indispensable duty ; nor yet did he 
 act as Scipio Africanus had done, who finding 
 himself attacked and opposed by_ envy in his 
 course of glory, quitted the administration, and 
 spent the remainder of his days in retirement and 
 inaction. But, as one told Dionysius, that the 
 most honourable death was to die in possession of 
 sovereign power, so Cato esteemed that the most 
 honourable old age, which was spent in serving 
 the commonwealth. The amusements in which he 
 passed his leisure hours, were the vuiting of 
 books and tilling the ground: ^d this is the 
 reason of our having so many treatises on various 
 subjects, and histories of his composing,* 
 
 In his younger days he applied himself to 
 agriculture, with a view to profit ; for he used to 
 say, he had only two ways of increasing his 
 income, labozcr and parsutiony : but as he grew 
 old, he regarded it only by way of theory and 
 amusement. H e wrote a book concerning country 
 affairs , t in which, among other things, he gives 
 rules for making cakes and preserv'ing fruit ; for 
 he was desirous to be thought curious and parti- 
 cular in everything. He kept a better table in 
 the country than in the town ; for he always 
 invited some of his acquaintance in the neighbour- 
 hood to sup with him. With these he passed the 
 time in cheerful conversation, making himself 
 agreeable not only to those of lus own age, but to 
 the young ; for he had a thorough knowledge of 
 the world, and had either seen himself, or heard 
 from others, a variety of things that were curious 
 and entertaining. He looked upon the table as 
 one of the best means of forming friendships : and 
 at his, the conversation generally turned upon the 
 praises of great and excellent men among the 
 Romans ; as for the bad and the unworthy, no 
 mention was made of them, for he would not allow 
 in his company one word, either good or bad, to 
 be said of such kind of men. 
 
 The last service he is said to have done the 
 public, was the destruction of Carthage. The 
 younger Scipio indeed gave the finishing stroke 
 to that work, but it was undertaken chiefly by 
 the advice and at the instances of Cato. The 
 
 * Besides 150 orations, and more, that he 
 left behind him, he v\Tote a treatise of military 
 discipline^ and books of antiquities ; in two of 
 these he treats of the foundation of the cities of 
 Italy ; the other five contained the Roman history, 
 particularly a narrative of the first and second 
 Punic war. 
 
 t This is the only work of his that remains 
 entire ; of the rest we have only fragments. 
 
 occasion of the war was this. The Carthaginians 
 and Massinissa, king of Numidia, being at war 
 with each other, Cato was sent into Africa to 
 inquire into the causes of the quarrel. Massinissa 
 from the first had been a friend to the Romans, 
 and the Carthaginians were admitted into their 
 alliance after the great overthrow they received 
 from Scipio the elder, but upon terms which de- 
 prived them of great part of their dominions, and 
 imposed a heavy tribute.* When Cato arrived 
 at Carthage, he found that city^ not in the ex- 
 hausted and humble condition which the Romans 
 imagined, but full of men fit to bear arms, abound- 
 ing in money, in arms, and warlike stores, and 
 not a little elated in the thought of its being so 
 well provided. He concluded, therefore, that it 
 was now time for the Romans to endeavour to 
 settle the points in dispute between the Numidians 
 and Carthage : and that, if they did not soon 
 make themselves masters of that city, which was 
 their old enemy, and retained strong resentments 
 of the usage she had lately received, and which 
 had not only recovered herself after her losses, 
 but was prodigiously increased in wealth and 
 power, they would soon be exposed to all their 
 former dangers. For this reason he returned in 
 all haste to Rome, where he informed the senate, 
 that the ^defeats and other misfortunes which 
 had happened to the Carthaginians, had not so 
 much drained them of their forces, as cured them 
 of their folly ; and that, in all probability, instead 
 of a weaker, they had made them a more skilful 
 and v/arlike enemy : that their war with the 
 Numidians was only a prelude to future combats 
 with the Romans ; and that the late peace was a 
 mere name, for they considered it only as a sus- 
 pension of arms, which they were willing to avail 
 themselves of, till they had a favourable oppor- 
 tunity to renew the war. 
 
 It is said, that at the conclusion of his speech 
 he shook the lap of his gowm, and purposely 
 dropped some Lib^mn figs ; and when he found 
 the senators admired them for their size and 
 beauty, he told them that the country where 
 they grew was but three days sail from Rome. 
 But what is a stronger instanp of his enmity 
 to Carthage, he never gave his opinion in the 
 senate upon any other point whatever, %vith- 
 out adding these words, “And my opinion is, 
 that Carthage should be^ destroyed.” Scipio, 
 sumamed Nasica, made it a point to maintain 
 the contrary, and concluded all his speeches 
 thus, “And my opinion is, that Carthage should 
 be left standing.” It is very likely that this great 
 man, perceiving that the people were come to 
 such a pitch of insolence, as to be led by it 
 into the greatest excesses (so that in the pride of 
 prosperity they could not be restrained by the 
 senate, but by their overgrown power were able 
 to draw the government what way they pleased), 
 thought it best that Carthage should remain to 
 keep them in awe, and to moderate their presump- 
 tion. For he saw that the Carthaginians were not 
 strong enough to conquer the Romans, and yet too 
 
 * Scipio Africanus obliged the Carthaginians, 
 at the conclusion of the second Punic vvar, to 
 deliver up their fleet to the Romans, jdeld to 
 Massinissa part of Syphax’s dominions, and pay 
 the Romans 10,000 talents. This peace was made 
 in the third year of the hundred and forty-fourth 
 olympiad, 200 j'ears before the Christian era. 
 
2S4 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES, 
 
 respectable an enemy to be despised by them. 
 On the other hand, Cato thought it dangerous, 
 while the people were thus inebriated and giddy 
 with power, to suffer a city which had always been 
 great, and which was now grown sober and wise 
 through its misfortunes, to lie watching every 
 advantage against them. It appeared to him, 
 therefore, the wisest course, to have all outward 
 dangers removed from the commonwealth, that 
 it might be at leisure to guard against internal 
 corruption. 
 
 Thus Cato, they tell us, occasioned the third 
 and last war against the Carthaginians. But as 
 soon as it began he died, having first prophesied 
 of the person that should put an end to it ; who 
 was then a young man, and had only a tribune’s 
 command in the army, but was giving extra- 
 ordinary proofs of his conduct and valour. The 
 
 news of these exploits being brought to Rome, 
 Cato cried out — 
 
 He is the soul of council ; 
 
 The rest are shadows vain. 
 
 This Scipio soon confirmed by his actions. 
 
 Cato left one son by his second wife, who, as 
 we have already observed, was surnamed Sa- 
 lonius, and a grandson by the son of his first 
 wife, who died before him. ,Salonius died in his 
 prsetorship, leaving a son named Marcus, who 
 came to be consul, and was grandfather * to Cato 
 the philosopher, the best and most illustrious 
 man of his time. 
 
 This is a mistake in Plutarch ; for Salonius 
 was the grandfather, and Marcus the father of 
 Cato of Utica. 
 
 ARISTIDES AND 
 
 Having thus given a detail of the most memor- 
 able actions of these great men, if we compare 
 the whole life of the one with that of the other, it 
 will not be easy to discern the difference be- 
 tween them, the eye being attracted by^so many 
 striking resemblances. But if we examine the 
 several parts of their lives distinctly,^ as we do 
 a poem or a picture, we shall find, in the first 
 place, this common to them both, that they rose 
 to high stations and great honour in their respec- 
 tive commonwealths, not by the help of family 
 connections, but merely by their own virtue and 
 abilities. It is true, that when Aristides raised 
 himself, Athens was not in her grandeur, and the 
 demagogues and chief magistrates he had to deal 
 with were men of moderate and nearly equal 
 fortunes. For estates of the highest class were 
 then only 500 medimni; of those of the second 
 order, who were knights, 300 ; and of those of 
 the third order, who were called Zeugitce^ 200. 
 But Cato, from a little village and a country life, 
 launched into the Roman government, as into a 
 boundless ocean, at a time when it was not con- 
 ducted by the Curii, the Fabricii, and Hostilii, 
 nor received for its magistrates and orators 
 men of narrow circumstances who worked with 
 their own hands, from the plough and the spade, 
 but was accustomed to regard greatness of family, 
 opulence, distributions among the people, and 
 servility in courting their favour ; for the Romans, 
 elated with their power and importance, loved to 
 humble those who stood for the great offices of 
 state. And it was not the same thing to be 
 rivalled by a Themistocles, who was neither dis- 
 tinguished by birth nor fortune (for he is said not 
 to have been worth more than three, or, at the 
 most five talents, when he first applied himself to 
 public affairs), as to have to contest with a Scipio 
 Africanus, sf Servius Galba, or a Quintius Fla- 
 minius, without any other assistance or support 
 but a tongue accustomed to speak with freedom 
 in the cause of justice. 
 
 Besides, Aristides was only one among ten, that 
 commanded at Marathon and Platsea ; whereas 
 Cato was chosen one of the two consuls, from 
 a number of competitors, and one of the two 
 censors, though opposed by seven candidates, 
 who were some of the greatest and most illustrious 
 men in Rome. 
 
 CATO COMPARED. 
 
 It should be observed, too, that Aristides was 
 never principal in any action ; for Miltiades had 
 the chief honour of the victory at Marathon ; 
 Themistocles of that at Salamis ; and the palm 
 of the important day at Plataea, as Herodotus 
 tells us, was adjudged to Pausanias. Nay, even 
 the second place was disputed with Aristides by 
 Sophanes, Aminias, Callimachus, and Cynse- 
 girus, who greatly distinguished themselves on 
 that occasion. 
 
 On the other hand, Cato not only stood first in 
 courage and conduct, during his own consulate, 
 and in the war with Spain ; but when he acted 
 at Thermopylae only as a tribune, under the 
 auspices of another, he gained the glory of the 
 victory ; for he it was that unlocked the pass for 
 the Romans to rush upon Antiochus, and that 
 brought the war upon the back of the king, who 
 minded only what was before him. That victory, 
 which was manifestly the work of Cato, drove 
 Asia out of Greece, and opened the passage for 
 Scipio to that continent afterwards. 
 
 Both of them were equally victorious in war, 
 but Aristides miscarried in the administration, 
 being banished and oppressed by the faction of 
 Themistocles ; whilst Cato, though he had for anta- 
 gonists almost all the greatest and most powerful 
 men in Rome, who kept contending with him 
 even in his old age, like a skilful wrestler, always 
 held his footing. Often impeached before the 
 people, and often the manager of an impeach- 
 ment, he generally succeeded in his prosecution 
 of others, and was never condemned himself ; 
 secure in that bulwark of life, the defensive and 
 offensive armour of eloquence ; and to this, much 
 more justly than to fortune, or his guardian 
 genius, we may ascribe his maintaining his 
 dignity unblemished to the last. For Antipater 
 bestowed the same encomium upon Aristotle the 
 philosopher, in what he wrote concerning him 
 after his death, that, among his other qualities, 
 he had the very extraordinary one, of persuading 
 people to whatever he pleased. 
 
 That the art of governing cities and common- 
 wealths is the chief excellence of man, admits 
 not of a doubt ; and it is generally agreed that the 
 art of governing a family is no small ingredient 
 in that excellence. For a city, which is only a 
 collection of families, cannot be prosperous in 
 
ARISTIDES AND 
 
 the whole, unless the families that compose it 
 be flourishing and prosperous. And Lycurgus, 
 when he banished gold and silver out of Sparta, 
 and gave the citizens, instead of it, money made 
 of iron, that had been spoiled by the fire, did 
 not design to excuse them from attending to 
 economy, but only to prevent luxury, which is a 
 tumour and inflammation caused by riches ; that 
 every one might have the greater plenty of the 
 necessaries and conveniences of life. By this 
 establishment of his, it appears, that he saw 
 farther than any other legislator ; since he was 
 sensible that every society has more to apprehend 
 from its needy members, than from the rich. 
 For this reason, Cato was no less attentive to 
 the management of his domestic concerns than 
 to that of public affairs ; and he not only in- 
 creased his own estate, but became a guide to 
 others in economy and agriculture, concerning 
 which he collected many useful rules. 
 
 But Aristides by his indigence brought a dis- 
 grace upon justice itself, as if it were the ruin 
 and impoverishment of families, and a quality 
 that is profitable to any one rather than the 
 owner. Hesiod, however, has said a good deal 
 to exhort us both to justice and economy, and 
 inveighs against idleness as the source of in- 
 justice. The same is well represented by 
 Homer • — 
 
 The culture of the field, which fills the stores 
 With happy harvests ; and domestic cares, 
 
 Which rear the smiling progeny, no charms 
 Could boast for me ; ’twas mine, to sail 
 The gallant ship, to sound the trump of war. 
 
 To point the polish'd spear, and hurl the quiver- 
 ing lance. 
 
 By which the poet intimates, that those who 
 neglect their own affairs, generally support them- 
 selves by violence and injustice. For what the 
 physicians say of oil, that used outwardly it is 
 beneficial, but pernicious when taken inwardly, 
 is not applicable to the just man ; nor is it true, 
 that he is useful to others, and unprofitable to 
 himself and his family. The politics of Aristides 
 seem, therefore, to have been defective in this 
 respect, if it is true (as most writers assert) that 
 he left not enough either for the portions of his 
 daughters, or for the expenses of his funeral. 
 
 Tnus Cato’s family produced praetors and 
 consuls to the fourth generation ; for his grand- 
 sons and their children bore the highest offices : 
 whereas, though Aristides was one of the greatest 
 men in Greece, yet the most distressful poverty 
 prevailing among his descendants, some of them 
 were forced to get their bread by showing tricks 
 of sleight of hand, or telling fortunes, and others, 
 to receive public alms, and not one of them 
 entertained a sentiment worthy of their illustrious 
 ancestor. 
 
 It is true, this point is liable to some dispute ; 
 for poverty is not dishonourable in itself, but 
 only when it is tho^ effect of idleness, intem- 
 perance, prodigality, and folly. And when, on 
 the contrary, it is associated with all the virtues, 
 in the sober, the industrious, the just, and valiant 
 ^atesman, it speaks a great and elevated mind. 
 ^ attention to little things renders it im- 
 
 possible to do anything that is great ; nor can he 
 provide for the wa nts of others, whose own are 
 
 * Odyss. 1. iv. 
 
 CATO COMPARED, 255 
 
 numerous and craving. The great and ne^bssary 
 provision for a statesman is, not riches, but a 
 contented mind, which requiring no superfluities 
 for itself, leaves a man at full liberty to serve the 
 commonwealth. God is absolutely exempt from 
 wants ; and the virtuous man, in proportion as 
 he reduces his wants, approaches nearer to the 
 Divine Perfection. For as a body well built for 
 health needs nothing exquisite, either in food or 
 clothing, so a rational way of living, and a well 
 governed family, demands a very moderate sup- 
 port. Our possessions, indeed, should be pro- 
 portioned to the use we make of them ; he that 
 amasses a great deal, and uses but little, is far 
 from being satisfied and happy in his abundance ; 
 for if, while he is solicitous to increase it, he has 
 no desire of those things which wealth can pro- 
 cure, he is foolish : if he does desire them, ard 
 yet out of meanness of spirit will not allow him- 
 self in their enjoyment, he is miserable. 
 
 I would fain ask Cato himself this question, 
 “ If riches are to be enjoyed, wh^^*, when pos- 
 sessed of a great deal, did he plume himself 
 upon being satisfied with a little?” If it be a 
 commendable thing, as indeed it is, to be con- 
 tented with coarse bread, and such wine as our 
 servants and labouring people drink, and not to 
 covet purple and elegantly plastered houses, then 
 Aristides, Epaminondas, Manius Curius, and 
 Caius Fabricius were perfectly right, in neglect- 
 ing to acquire what they did not think proper to 
 use. For it was by no means necessary for a 
 man who, like Cato, could make a delicious meal 
 on turnips, and loved to boil them himself, while 
 his wife baked the bread, to talk so much about 
 a farthing, and to write by what means a man 
 might soonest grow rich. Indeed, simplicity and 
 frugality are then only great things, when they 
 free the mind from the desire of superfluities 
 and the anxieties of care. Hence it was that 
 Aristides, in -the trial of Callias, said it was fit 
 for none to be ashamed of poverty, but those 
 that were poor against their wills ; and that they 
 who, like him, were poor out of choice, might 
 glory in it. For it is ridiculous to suppose that 
 the poverty of Aristides was to be imputed to 
 sloth, since he might, without being guilty of the 
 least baseness, have raised himself to opulence, 
 by the spoil of one barbarian, or the plunder of 
 one tent. But enough of this. 
 
 As to military achievements, those of Cato 
 added but little to the Roman empire, which was 
 already very great ; whereas the battles of Mara- 
 thon, Salamis, and Platsea, the most glorious and 
 important actions of the Greeks, are numbered 
 among those of Aristides. _ And surely Antiochus 
 is not worthy to be mentioned with Xerxes, nor 
 the demolishing of the walls of the Spanish 
 towns, with the destruction of so many thousands 
 of barbarians both by sea and land. On these 
 great occasions Aristides was inferior to none in 
 real service, but he left the glory and the laurels, 
 as he did the wealth, to others who had more 
 need of them, because he was above them. 
 
 I do not blame Cato for perpetually boasting 
 and giving himself the preference to others, 
 though in one of his pieces he says it is absurd 
 for a man either to commend or depreciate him- 
 self ; but I think the man who is often praising 
 himself not so complete in virtue as the modest 
 man who does not even want others to praise 
 him. For modesty is a very proper ingredient in 
 
20 
 
 PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 the niitd and engaging manner necessary for a 
 statesman ; on the other hand, he who demands 
 any extraordinary respect is difficult to please, 
 and liable to envy. Cato was very subject to 
 this fault, and Aristides entirely free from it. 
 For Aristides, by co-operating with his enemy 
 Themistocles in his greatest actions, and being 
 as it were a guard to him while he had the com- 
 mand, restored the affairs of Athens ; whereas 
 Cato, by counteracting Scipio, had well nigh 
 blasted and ruined that expedition of his against 
 Carthage, which brought down Hannibal, who 
 till then was invincible. And he continued to 
 raise suspicions against him, and to persecute 
 him with calumnies, till at last he drove him out 
 of Rome, and got his brother stigmatized with 
 the shameful crime of embezzling the public 
 money. 
 
 As for temperance, which Cato always extolled 
 as the greatest of virtues, Aristides preserved it 
 in its utmost purity and perfection ; while Cato, 
 
 by marrying so much beneath himself, and at an 
 unseasonable time of life, stood justly impeached 
 in that respect. For it was by no means decent, 
 at his great age, to bring home to his son and 
 daughter-in-law, a young wife, the daughter of 
 his secretary, a man who received wages of the 
 public. Whether he did it merely to gratify his 
 appetite, or to revenge the affront which his son 
 put upon his favourite slave, both the cause and 
 the thing were dishonourable. And the reason 
 which he gave to his son was ironical and ground- 
 less. For if he was desirous of having more 
 children like him, he should have looked out 
 before for some woman of family, and not have 
 put off the thoughts of marrying again, till his 
 commerce with so mean a creature was dis- 
 covered ; and when it was discovered, he ought 
 to have chosen for his father-in-law, not the man 
 who would most readily accept his proposals, but 
 one whose alliance would have done him the most 
 honour. 
 
 PHILOPCEMEN, 
 
 At Mantinea there was a man ol great quality 
 and power named Cassander,* * * § * who, being 
 obliged, by a reverse of fortune, to quit his own 
 country, went and settled at Megalopolis. He 
 was induced to fix there, chiefly by the friendship 
 which subsisted between him and Crausis t the 
 father of Philopoemen, who was in all respects an 
 extraordinary man. While his friend lived, he 
 had all that he could wish ; and being desirous, 
 after -his death, to make ^ some return for his 
 hospitality, he educated his orphan son, in the 
 same manner as Homer says Achilles was edu- 
 cated by Phcenix, and formed him from his 
 infancy to generous sentiments and royal virtues. 
 
 But when he was past the years of childhood, 
 Ecdemus and Demophanes J had the principal 
 care of him. They were both JSIegalopolitans ; 
 who, having learned the academic philosophy of 
 Arcesilaus, § applied it, above all the men of their 
 time, to action and affairs of state. They delivered 
 their country from tyranny, by providing persons 
 privately to take off Aristodemus ; they were 
 assisting to Aratus in driving out Necocles the 
 tyrant of Sicyon : and, at the request of the people 
 of Gyrene, whose government was in great dis- 
 order, they sailed thither, settled it on the founda- 
 tion of good laws, and thoroughly regulated the 
 commonwealth. But among all their great actions, 
 they valued themselves most on the education of 
 Philopoemen, as having rendered him, by the ' 
 principles of philosophy, a common benefit to 
 Greece. And indeed, as he came the last of so 
 many excellent generals, Greece loved him ex- 
 
 * Pausanias calls him Clea?ider ; and some 
 manuscripts of Plutarch agree with him. So it 
 is also in the translation of Guarini. _ 
 
 f Craugis in Pausanias ; in the. inscription of 
 a statue of Philopcemen at Tegeae ; and in an 
 ancient collection of epigrams. 
 
 { In Pausanias their names are Ecdelus and 
 Megalophanes. 
 
 § Arcesilaus was founder of the middle Aca- 
 demy, and made some alteration in the doctrine 
 which had obtained. 
 
 I tremely, as the child of her* old age, and, as his 
 reputation increased, enlarged his power. For 
 which reason, a certain Roman calls him the last 
 of the Greeks, meaning, that Greece had not 
 produced one great man, or one that was worthy 
 of her, after him. 
 
 His visage was not very homely, * as some 
 imagined it to have been ; for we see his statue 
 still remaining at Delphi. As for the mistake of 
 his hostess at Megara, it is said to be owing to 
 his easiness of behaviour and the simplicity of his 
 garb. She having word brought that the general 
 of the Achacans was coming to her house, was in 
 great care and hucry to provide his supper, her 
 husband happening to be out of the way. ^ In the 
 mean time Philopoemen came, and, as his habit 
 was ordinary, she took him for one of his own 
 servants, or for a harbinger, and desired him to 
 assist her in the business of the kitchen. He 
 presently threw off his cloak, and began to cleave 
 some wood ; when the master of the house return- 
 ing, and seeing him so employed, said, “ What is 
 the meaning of this, Philopoemen ? ” He replied, 
 in broad Doric. “I am paying the fine of my 
 deformity.” Titus Flaminius rallying him one 
 day upon his make, said, “ What fine hands and 
 legs jmu have ! but then you have no belly : ” and 
 he was indeed very slender in the waist. But this 
 raillery might rather be referred to the condition 
 ! of his fortune: for he had good soldiers, both 
 horse and foot, but very often wanted money to 
 pay them. These stories are subjects of dispu- 
 tations in the schools. 
 
 As to his manners, we find that his pursuits of 
 honour were too much attended with roughness 
 and passion. Epaminondas was the person whom 
 he proposed his pattern; and he succeeded in 
 imitating his activity, his shrewdness, and con- 
 tempt of riches; but his choleric, contentious 
 humour prevented his attaining to the mildness. 
 
 * Pausanias assures us that his visage was 
 homely, but at the same time declares, that in 
 point of size and strength no man in Peloponnesus 
 exceeded him. 
 
PHILOPCEMEN, 
 
 the ^avity, and candour of that great man in 
 political disputes ; so that he seemed rather fit for 
 ! war than for the civil administration. Indeed, from 
 a child he was fond of everything in the military 
 way, and readily entered into the exercises which 
 tended to that purpose, those of riding for instance, 
 
 I and handling of arms. As he seemed well formed 
 for wrestling too, his friends and governors advised 
 him to improve himself in that art ; which gave 
 him occasion to ask, whether that might be con- 
 sistent with his proficiency as a soldier? They 
 told him the truth ; that the habit of body and 
 manner of life, the diet and exercise, of a soldier 
 and a wrestler, were entirely different : that the 
 wrestler must have much sleep and full meals, 
 stated times of exercise and rest, every^ little 
 departure from his rules being very prejudicial to 
 him ; whereas the soldier should be prepared for 
 the most irregular changes of living, and should 
 chiefly endeavour to bring himself to bear the 
 want of food and sleep, without difi5culty. Philo- 
 poemen hearing this, not only avoided and derided 
 the exercise of wrestling himself, but aiterwards, 
 when he came to be general, to the utmost of his 
 power exploded the whole art, by every mark of 
 disgrace and expression of contempt ; satisfied 
 that it rendered persons, who were the most fit for 
 war, quite useless, and unable to fight on neces- 
 sary occasions. 
 
 When his governors and preceptors had quitted 
 their charge, he engaged in those private incur- 
 sions into Laconia which the city of Megalopolis 
 made for the sake of booty ; and in these he was 
 sure to be the first to march out, and the last to 
 return. 
 
 His leisure he spent either in the chase, which 
 increased both his strength and activity, or in the 
 tillage of the field. For he had a handsome estate 
 twenty furlongs from the city, to whmh he went 
 every day after dinner, or after supper ; and, at 
 night, he threw himself upon an ordinary mattress, 
 and slept as one of the labourers. Early in the 
 morning he rose and went to work along with his 
 vine-dressers or ploughmen : after which he re- 
 turned to the town, and employed his time about 
 the public affairs with his friends and with the 
 magistrates. What he gained in the wars he laid 
 out upon horses or arms, or in the redeeming of 
 captives ; but he endeavoured to improve his 
 own estate the justest way in the world, by agri- 
 culture I mean. * * Nor did he apply himself to it 
 in a cursory manner, but in full conviction that 
 the surest way not to touch what belongs to others 
 is to take care of one’s own. 
 
 He spent some time in hearing the discourses 
 and studying the writings of philosophers ; but 
 selected such as he tnought might assist his 
 progress in virtue. Among the poetical images 
 in Homer, he attended to those which seemed to 
 excite and encourage, valour : and as to other 
 authors, he v/as most conversant in the Tactics 
 of Evangelus,t and in the History of Alexander ; 
 
 being persuaded that learning ought to conduce 
 to action, and not be considered as mere pas- 
 time and a useless fund for talk. In the study 
 of Tactics he neglected those plans and diagrams 
 that ^e drawn upon paper, and exemplified the 
 rules in the field ; considering with himself as he 
 travelled, and pointing out to those about him, 
 the difficulties of steep or broken ground ; and 
 how the ranks of any army must be extended or 
 closed, according to the differences made by rivers, 
 ditches, and defiles. 
 
 He seems, indeed, to have set rather too great 
 a value on military knowledge ; embracing war as 
 the most extensive exercise of virtue, and despis- 
 ing those that were not versed in it, as persons 
 entirely useless. 
 
 He was now thirty 3 *ears old, when Cleomenes, * 
 king of the Lacedaemonians, surprised Megalo- 
 polis in the night, and having forced the guards, 
 entered and seized the market-place. Philopoemen 
 ran to succour the inhabitants, but was not able 
 to drive out the enemy, though he fought with the 
 most determined and desperate valour. He pre- 
 vailed, however, so far as to give the people 
 opportunity to steal out of the town, by maintain- 
 ing the combat with the pursuers, and drawing 
 Cleomenes upon himself, so that he retired the 
 last with difficult}’’, and after prodigious efforts ; 
 being wounded and having his horse killed under 
 him. When they had gained Messene, Cleomenes 
 made them an ofer of their city with their lands 
 and goods. Philopoemen perceiving they were 
 glad to accept the proposal, and in haste to return, 
 strongly opposed it, representing to them in a set 
 speech, that _ Cleomenes did not want to restore 
 them their city, but to be master of the citizens, 
 in order that he might be more secure of keeping 
 the place ; that he could not sit still long to watch 
 empty houses and walls, for the very solitude 
 would force him away. By this argument he 
 turned the Megalopolitans from their purpose, but 
 at the same time furnished Cleomenes with a pre- 
 tence to plunder the town and demolish the greatest 
 part of it, and to march off loaded with booty. 
 
 Soon after Antigonas came down to assist the 
 Achaeans against Cleomenes ; and finding that 
 he had possessed himself of the heights of Sdlas a, 
 and blocked up the passages, Antigonus drew up 
 his army near him, with a resolution to force him 
 from his post. Philopoemen, with his citizens, 
 was placed among the cavalry, supported by the 
 Illyrian foot, a numerous and gallant body of 
 men, who closed that extremity. They had 
 orders to wait quietly, until from the other ^\’ing, 
 where the king fought in person, they should see 
 a red robe lilted up upon the point of a spear. 
 The Achaeans kept their ground, as they were 
 directed : but the Ill>-rian officers with their 
 corps attempted to break in upon the Lacedae- 
 monians. Euclidas, the brother of Cleomenes, 
 seeing this opening made in the enemy’s army, 
 immediately ordered a party of his light-armed 
 
 * Columella says, agriculture is next akin to 
 philosophy. It does, indeed, afford a person who 
 is capable of speculation, an opportunity of 
 meditating on nature ; and such meditations 
 enlarge the mind. 
 
 t This author is mentioned by Arrian, who also 
 wrote a discourse on Tactics. He observes, that 
 the treatise of Ev'angelus, as •well as those of 
 several other writers on that subject, "vs'ere become 
 
 of little use in his time, because they had omitted 
 several things as sufficiently known in their days, 
 which, however, then wanted explication. This 
 may ser\^e as a caution to future writers on this 
 and such like subjects. 
 
 * Cleomenes made himself master of Megalo- 
 polis in the second year of the hundred and 
 thirty-ninth olympiad, which was the two hundred 
 and twenty-first before the Christian era. 
 
 S 
 
258 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 infantry to wheel about and attack the rear of the 
 Illyrians, thus separated from the horse. This 
 being put in execution, and the Illyrians harassed 
 and broken, Philopoemen perceived that it would 
 be no difficult matter to drive off that light-armed 
 party, and that the occasion called for it. First 
 he mentioned the thing to the king’s officers, but 
 they rejected the hint, and considered him as no 
 better than a madman, his reputation being not 
 yet respectable enough to justify such a move- 
 ment. He, therefore, with the Megalopolitans, 
 falling upon that light-armed corps himself, at 
 the first encounter put them in confusion, and 
 soon after routed them with great slaughter. 
 Desirous yet further to encourage Antigonus’s 
 troops, and quickly to penetrate into the enemy’s 
 army, which was now in some disorder, he quitted 
 his horse ; and advancing on foot, in his horse- 
 man’s coat of mail and other heavy accoutrements, 
 upon rough uneven ground, that was full of 
 springs and bogs, he was making his way with 
 extreme difficulty, when he had both his thighs 
 struck through with a javelin, so that the point 
 came through on the other side, and the wound 
 was great though not mortal. At first he stood 
 still as if he had been shackled, not knowing 
 what method to take. For the thong in the 
 middle of the javelin rendered it difficult to be 
 drawn out ; nor would any about him venture to 
 do it. At the same time the fight being at the 
 hottest, and likely to be soon over, honour and 
 indignation pushed him on to take his share in it ; 
 and therefore, by moving his legs this way and 
 that, he broke the staff, and then ordered the 
 pieces to be pulled out. Thus set free, he ran, 
 sword in hand, through the first ranks, to charge 
 the enemy ; at the same time animating the troops 
 and firing them with emulation. 
 
 Antigonus, having gained the victory, to try 
 his Macedonian officers, demanded of them why 
 they had brought on the cavalry before he gave 
 them the signal? By way of apology, they said 
 they were obliged, against their will, to come to 
 action, because a young man of Megalopolis had 
 begun the attack too soon. “That young man,” 
 replied Antigonus, smiling, “has performed the 
 office of an experienced general.” 
 
 This action, as we may easily imagine, lifted 
 Philopoemen into great reputation, so that Anti- 
 gonus was very desirous of having his service in 
 the wars, and offered him a considerable command 
 with great appointments : but he declined it, 
 because he knew he could not bear to be under 
 the direction of another. Not choosing, however, 
 to be idle, and hearing there was a war in Crete, 
 he sailed thither, to exercise and improve his 
 military talents. When he had served there a 
 good while, along with a set of brave • men, who 
 were not only versed in all the stratagerns of war, 
 but temperate besides, and strict in their manner 
 of living, he returned with so much renown to the 
 Achseans, that they immediately appointed him 
 general of horse. He found that the cavalry 
 made use of small and mean horses, which they 
 picked up as they could when they were tailed 
 to a campaign ; that many of them shunned the 
 wars, and sent others in their stead ; and that 
 shameful ignorance of service, with its conse- 
 quence, timidity, prevailed among them all. The 
 former generals had connived at this, because, 
 it being a degree of honour among the Achseans 
 to serve on horseback, the cavalry had great 
 
 power in the commonwealth, and considerable 
 influence in the distribution of rewards and 
 punishments. But Philopoemen would not yield 
 to such considerations, or grant them the least 
 indulgence. Instead of that, he applied to the 
 several towns, and to each of the young men in 
 particular, rousing them to a sense of honour, 
 punishing where necessit}^ required, and prac- 
 tising them in exercise, reviews, and mock-battles 
 in places of the greatest resort. By these means 
 in a little time he brought them to surprising 
 strength and spirit ; and, what is of most con- 
 sequence in discipline, rendered them so light 
 and quick that ail their evolutions and move- 
 ments, whether performed separately or together, 
 were executed with so much readiness and 
 address, that their motion was like that of one 
 body actuated by an internal voluntary principle. 
 In the great battle which they fought with the 
 iEtolians and Eleans near the river Larissus,'^ 
 Demophantus, general of the Elean horse, ad- 
 vanced before the lines, at full speed, against 
 Philopoemen. Philopoemen, preventing his blow, 
 with a push of his spear brought him dead to the 
 ground. The enemy seeing Demophantus fall, 
 immediately fled. And now Philopoemen was 
 universally celebrated, as not inferior to the 
 young in personal valour, nor to the old in 
 prudence, and as equally well qualified both to 
 fight and to command. 
 
 Aratus was, indeed, the first who raised the 
 commonwealth of the Achseans to dignity and 
 power. For, whereas before they were in a low 
 condition, dispersed in unconnected cities, he 
 united them in one body, and gave them a 
 moderate civil government worthy of Greece. 
 And as it happens in running waters, that when 
 a few small bodies stop, others stick to them, 
 and one part strengthening another, the whole 
 becomes one firm and solid mass, so it was with 
 Gi'eece. At a time when she was weak and 
 easily broken, dispersed as she \vas in a variety 
 of cities, which stood each upon its own bottom, 
 the Achseans first united themselves, and then 
 drawing some of the neighbouring cities to them 
 by assisting them to expel their tyrants, while 
 others voluntarily joined them for the sake of that 
 unanimity which they beheld in so well-constituted 
 a government ; they conceived the great design 
 of forming Peloponnesus into one community. 
 It is true, that while Aratus lived, they attended 
 the motions of the Macedonians, and made their 
 court first to Ptolemy, and afterwards to Anti- 
 gonus and Philip, who all had a great share in 
 the affairs of Greece. But when Philopoemen 
 had taken upon him the administration, the 
 Achjeans, finding themselves respectable enough 
 to oppose their strongest adversaries, ceased to 
 call in foreign protectors. As for Aratus, not 
 being .so fit for conflicts in the field, he managed 
 most of his affairs by address, by moderation, 
 and by the friendships he had formed with foreign 
 princes, as we have related in his life. But Phi- 
 lopoemen, being a great warrior, vigorous and 
 bold, and successful withal in the first battles 
 that he fought, raised the ambition of the 
 Achseans together with their power; for under 
 him they were used to conquer. 
 
 * This battle was fought the fourth year of the 
 hundred and forty-second olympiad, when Phi- 
 lopoemen was in his forty-fourth year. 
 
philopoe:mea\ 
 
 I In the first place, he corrected the errors of the 
 I Achaeans in drawing up their forces and in the 
 I make of their arms. For hitherto they had made 
 I use of bucklers which were easy to manage on 
 I account of their smallness, but too narrow to 
 cover the body, and lances that were much 
 shorter than the Macedonian pikes ; for which 
 reason they answered the end in fighting at a 
 i distance, but were of little use in close battle, 
 j As for the order of battle, they had not been 
 I accustomed to draw up in a spiral form,* but in 
 I the square battalion, which having neither a front 
 of pikes, nor shields, fit to lock together, like that 
 of the Macedonians, was easily penetrated and 
 broken. Philopoemen altered both ; persuading 
 them, instead of the buckler and lance, to take 
 the shield and pike ; to arm their heads, bodies, 
 thighs, and legs ; and, instead of a light and 
 desultory manner of fighting, to adopt a close 
 and firm one. After he had brought the youth to 
 wear complete armour, and on that account to 
 consider themselves as invincible, his next step 
 was to reform them with respect to luxury and 
 love of expense. He could not, indeed, entirely 
 cure them of the distemper with which they had 
 long been infected, the vanity of appearance, for 
 they had vied with each other in fine clothes, in 
 purple carpets, and the rich service of their tables. 
 13 ut he began with diverting their love of show 
 fi'ora superfluous things to those that were useful 
 and honourable, and soon prevailed with them to 
 retrench their daily expense upon their persons, 
 and to give into a magnificence in their arms and 
 the whole equipage of war. The shops therefore 
 were seen strewed with plate broken in pieces, 
 while breast-plates were gilt with the gold, and 
 shields and bridles studded with the silver. On 
 I the parade the young men were managing horses, 
 j or exercising their arms. The women were seen 
 adorning helmets and crests with various colours, 
 or embroidering military vests both for the cavalry 
 mid infantry. The very sight of these things 
 inflamed their courage, and called forth their 
 vigour, made them venturous, and ready to face 
 any danger. For much expense in other things 
 that attract our eyes tempts to luxury, and too 
 often produces effeminacy; the feasting of the 
 senses relaxing the vigour of the mind ; but in 
 this instance it strengthens and improves it. Thus 
 Homer represents Achilles, at the sight of his 
 new armour, exulting with joy, t and burning 
 with impatience to use it. When Philopoemen 
 had persuaded the youth thus to arm and adorn 
 themselves, he mustered and trained them con- 
 tinually, and they entered with pride and plea- 
 sure into his exercise. For they were greatly 
 delighted with the new form of the battalion 
 
 * The Macedonian phalanx occasionally altered 
 their form from the square to the spiral or orbi- 
 cular, and sometimes to that of the cu7iens or 
 wedge. 
 
 t She drops the radiant burden on the ground ; 
 Clang the strong arms, and ring the shores 
 around. 
 
 Pack shrink the Myrmidons with dread surprise. 
 And from the broad effulgence turn their eyes. 
 Unmoved, the hero kindles at the show. 
 
 And feels with rage divine his bosom glow ; 
 
 \ fierce eyeballs living flames expire. 
 
 And flash incessant like a stream of fire. 
 
 Pope, II. b. xix. 
 
 ^59 
 
 v/hich was so cemented that it seemed impossible 
 to break it. And their arms became easy and 
 light in the wearing, because they were charmed 
 with their richness and beauty, and they longed 
 for nothing more than to use them against the 
 enemy, and to try them in a real encounter. 
 
 At that time the Achseans were at war with 
 Machanidas, the tyrant of Lacedaemon, who, 
 with a powerful army, was watching his oppor- 
 tunity to subdue all Peloponnesus. As .soon as 
 news was brought that he was fallen upon the 
 Mantineans, _ Philopoemen took the field, and 
 marched against him. They drew up the. r armies 
 near Mantinea, each having a good number of 
 mercenaries in pay, beside the whole force of 
 their respective cities. The engagement being 
 begun, Machanidas with his foreign troops 
 attacked and put to flight the spearmen and the 
 Tarentines, who were placed in the Achsan 
 front ; but afterwards, instead of falling upon that 
 part of their army who stood their ground, and 
 breaking them, he went upon the pursuit of the 
 fugitives,* and when he should have endeavoured 
 to rout the main body of the Achaeans, left his 
 own uncovered. Philopoemen, after so indifferent 
 a beginning, made light of the misfortune, and 
 represented it as no great matter, though the day 
 seemed to be lost. But when he saw what an 
 error the enemy committed, in quitting their foot, 
 and going upon the pursuit, by which they left 
 him a good opening, he did not try to stop them 
 in their career after the fugitives, but suffered 
 them to pass by. When the pursuers were got at 
 a great distance, he rushed upon the Lacedaemo- 
 nian infantry, now left unsupported by their 
 right wing. ^ Stretching, therefore, to the left, he 
 took them in flank, destitute as they were of a 
 general, and far from expecting to come to blows ; 
 for they thought Machanidas absolutely sure of 
 victory, when they saw him upon the pursuit. 
 
 After he had routed this infantry with great 
 slaughter (for it is said that 4000 Lacedaemonians 
 were left dead upon the spot), he marched against 
 Machanidas, who was now returning with his 
 mercenaries from the pursuit. There was a 
 broad and deep ditch between them, where both 
 strove a while, the one to get over and fly, the 
 other to hinder him. Their appearance was not 
 like that of a combat between two generals, but 
 between two wild beasts (or rather between a 
 hunter and a wild beastj, whom necessity reduces 
 to fight. Philopoemen was the great hunter. 
 The tyrant’s horse being strong and spirited, and 
 violently spurred on both sides, ventured to leap 
 into the ditch ; and was raising his fore feet in 
 order to gain the opposite bank, when Simmias 
 and Polytenus, who always fought by the side of 
 Philopoemen, both rode up and levelled their 
 spears against Machanidas. But Philopoemen 
 prevented them ; and perceiving that the horse, 
 with his head high reared, covered the tyrant’s 
 body, he turned his own a little, and pushing his 
 spear at him with all his force, tumbled him into 
 the ditch. The Achaeans, in admiration of this 
 exploit and of h.s conduct in the whole action, 
 set up his statue in brass at Delphi, in the atti- 
 tude in which he killed the tyrant. 
 
 It is reported, that at the Nemean games, a 
 little after he had gained the battle of Mantinea, 
 Philopoemen, then chosen general a second time, 
 
 * See Polybius, book xi. 
 
26 o 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 and at leisure on account of that great festival, 
 first caused this phalanx, in the best order and 
 attire, to pass in review before the Greeks, and to 
 make all the movements which the art of war' 
 teaches, with the utmost vigour and agility. 
 After this he entered the theatre, while the musi- 
 cians were contending for the prize. He was 
 attended by the youth in their military cloaks 
 and scarlet vests. These young men were all 
 well made, of the same age and stature, and 
 though they showed great respect for their 
 general, yet they seemed not a little elated them- 
 selves with the many glorious battles they had 
 fought. In the moment that they entered, 
 Pylades the musician happened to be singing to 
 his lyre the Persce of Timotheus,* and was pro- 
 nouncing this verse with which it begins — 
 
 The palm of liberty for Greece I won, 
 
 when the people, struck with the grandeur of the 
 poetry, sung by a voice equally excellent, from 
 every part of the theatre turned their eyes upon 
 Philop'oemen, and welcomed him with the loudest 
 plaudits. They caught in idea the ancient dig- 
 nity of Greece, and in their present confidence 
 aspired to the lofty spirit of former times. 
 
 As young horses require their accustomed 
 riders, and are wdld and unruly when mounted by 
 strangers, so it was with the Achseans. When 
 their forces were under any other commander, on 
 every great emergency, they grew discontented 
 and looked about for Philopoemen ; and if he did 
 but make his appearance, they \yere soon satisfied 
 again and fitted for action by the confidence 
 which they placed in him ; well knowing that he 
 \vas the only general whom their enemies durst 
 not look in the face, and that they were ready to 
 tremble at his very name. 
 
 Philip, king of Macedon, thinking he could 
 easily bring the Achseans under him again, if 
 Philopcsmen was out o. the way, privately sent 
 some persons to Argos to assassinate him. But 
 this treachery was timel}'- discovered, and brought 
 upon Philip the hatred and contempt of all the 
 Greeks. The Boeotians were besieging Megara, 
 and hoped to be soon masters of the place, when 
 a report, though not a true one, being spread 
 among them, that Philopoemen was approaching 
 to the relief of the besieged, they left their scal- 
 ing-ladders already planted against the walls, 
 and took to flight. Nabis, who was tyrant of 
 Lacedaemon after Machanidas, had taken Mes- 
 sene by surprise. And Philopoemen, who was 
 out of command, endeavoured to persuade Lysip- 
 pus, then general of the Achseans, to succour 
 the Messeneans ; but not prevailing with him, 
 because, he said, the enemy was within, and 
 the place irrecoverably lost, he Avent himself ; 
 taking with him his own citizens, who waited 
 neither for form of law nor commission, but 
 followed him upon this natural principle, that he 
 who excels should always command. When he 
 was got pretty near, Nabis was informed of it ; 
 and not daring to wait, though his army lay 
 quartered in the town, stole out at another gate 
 with his troops, and marched off precipitately, 
 thinking himself happy if he could escape. He 
 did indeed escape, but Messene was rescued. 
 
 * Timotheus was a Dithyrambic poet, who 
 flourished about the ninety-fifth olympiad, 398 
 years before the Christian era. 
 
 Thus far everything is great in the character of 
 Philopoemen. But as for his going a second 
 time into Crete, at the request of the Gortynians, 
 who were engaged in war, and wanted him for 
 general, it has been blamed, either as an act of 
 cov/ardice, in deserting his own country when 
 she was distressed by Nabis, or as an unseason- 
 able ambition to show himself to strangers. And 
 it is true, the Megalopolitans were then so hard 
 pressed, that they were obliged to shut themselves 
 up within their walls, and to sow corn in their 
 very streets ; the enemy having laid waste their 
 land, and encamped almost at their gates. Philo- 
 poemen, therefore, by entering into the service 
 of the Cretans at such a time, and taking a com- 
 mand be3mnd sea, furnished his enemies with a 
 pretence to accuse him of basely flying from the 
 war at home. 
 
 Yet it is said, that as the Achseans had chosen 
 other generals, Philopoemen, being unemployed, 
 bestowed his leisure upon the Gortynians, and 
 took a command among them at^ their request. 
 For he had an extreme aversion to' idleness, and 
 was desirous, above all things, to keep his talents, 
 as a soldier and general, in constant practice. 
 This was clear from what he said of Ptolemy. 
 Some^ were commending that prince for daily 
 studying the art of war, and improving his 
 strength by martial exercise ; ‘ ‘ Who, ” said he, 
 “ can praise a prince of his age, that is always 
 preparing, and never performs ? ” 
 
 The Megalopolitans, highly incensed at his ab- 
 sence, and looking upon it as a desertion, were 
 inclined to pass an outlawry against him. But 
 the Achseans prevented them by sending their 
 general * Aristsenetus to Megalopolis, Avho, though 
 he differed with Philopoemen about matters of 
 government, would not suffer him to be declared 
 an outlav/. Philopoemen, finding himself neg- 
 lected by his citizens, drew off from them several 
 of the neighbouring boroughs, and instructed them 
 to allege that they were not comprised in their 
 taxations, nor originally of their dependencies. 
 But assisting them to maintain this pretext, he 
 lessened the authority of Megalopolis in the 
 general assembly of the Achseans. But these 
 things happened some time after. 
 
 Whilst he commanded the Gortynians in Crete, 
 he did not, like a Peloponnesian or Arcadian, 
 make war in an open generous manner, ' but 
 adopting the Cretan customs, and using their 
 artifices and sleights, their stratagems and am- 
 bushes, against themselves, he soon showed that 
 their devices were like the short-sighted schemes 
 of children, when compared with the long reach 
 of an experienced general. 
 
 Having greatly distinguished himself by these 
 means, and performed many exploits in that 
 country, he returned to Peloponnesus with 
 honour. Here he found Philip beaten by T. Q. 
 Flaminiils, and Nabis engaged in war both with 
 the Romans and Achasans. He was immediately 
 chosen general of the Achseans ; but venturing to 
 act at sea, he fell under the same misfortune with 
 Epamihondas ; he saw the great ideas that had 
 been formed of his courage and conduct vanish 
 in consequence of his ill success in a naval en- 
 gagement. Some say, indeed, that Epaminondas 
 was unwilling that his countrymen should have 
 any share of the advantages of the sea, lest of 
 
 * Polybius and Livy call him Aristsenus. 
 
PHILOPCEMEN, 261 
 
 good soldiers (as Plato expresses it) they should 
 become licentious and dissolute sailors ; pd there- 
 fore chose to return from Asia and the isles with- 
 out effecting anything. But Philopoemen being 
 persuaded that his skill in the land service would 
 insure his success at sea, found, to his cost, how 
 much experience contributes to victory, and how 
 much practice adds in all things to our powers. 
 For he was not only worsted in the sea-fight for 
 want of skill ; but having fitted up an old ship 
 which had been a famous vessel forty years before, 
 and manned it with his townsmen, it proved so 
 leaky that they were in danger of being lost. 
 Finding that, after this, the enemy despised him 
 as a man who disclaimed all pretensions at sea, 
 and that they had insolently laid siege to Gythium, 
 he set sail again ; and as they did not expect him, 
 but were dispersed without any precaution, by 
 reason of their late victory, he landed in the night, 
 burned their camp, and killed a great number of 
 them. 
 
 A few days after, as he was marching through 
 a difficult pass, Nabis came suddenly upon him. 
 The Achseans were in great terror, thinking it 
 impossible to escape out of so dangerous a passage, 
 which the enemy had already seized. But Philo- 
 poemen, making a little halt, and seeing, at once, 
 the nature of the ground, showed that skill in 
 drawing up an army is the capital point in the art 
 of war. For altering a little the disposition of 
 his forces, and adapting it to the present occasion, 
 v/ithout any bustle he easily disengaged them 
 from the difficulty ; and then falling upon the 
 enemy, put them entirely to the rout. When he 
 saw that they fled not to the town, but dispersed 
 themselves about the country ; as the ground was 
 woody and uneven, and on account of the brooks 
 and ditches impracticable for the horse, he did 
 not go upon the pursuit, but encamped before the 
 evening. Concluding, however, that the fugitives 
 *would return as soon as it grew dark, and draw 
 ' up in a straggling manner to the city, he placed 
 in ambush by the brooks and hills that surrounded 
 it, many parties of the Achasans with their swords 
 in their hands. By this means the greatest part 
 of the troops of Nabis were cut off : for not re- 
 turning in a body, but as the chance of flight had 
 dispersed them, they fell into their enemies’ hand, 
 and were caught like so many birds, ere they 
 could enter the town. 
 
 Philopoemen being received on this account 
 with great honour and applause in all the theatres 
 of Greece, it gave some umbrage to Flaminius, a 
 man naturally ambitious. For, as a Roman con- 
 sul, he thought himself entitled to much greater 
 marks of distinction among the Achseans than a 
 man of Arcadia, and that, as a public benefactor, 
 he was infinitely above him ; having by one pro- 
 clamation set free all that part of Greece which 
 had been enslaved by Philip and the Macedonians. 
 After this, Flaminius made peace with Nabis ; 
 and Nabis was assassinated by the iEtolians. 
 Hereupon Sparta being in great confusion, Philo- 
 pmmen seizing the opportunity, came upon it 
 with his array, and, partly by force and partly by 
 persuasion, brought that city to join in the Achaean 
 league. The gaining over a city of such dignity 
 and power made him perfectly adored among the 
 Achaeans. And, indeed, Sparta was an acquisi- 
 tion of vast importance to Achaia, of which she 
 was now become a member. It was also a grate- 
 ful service to the principal Lacedaemonians, who 
 
 hoped now to have him for the guardian of their 
 liberty. For which reason, having sold the house 
 and goods of Nabis, by a public decree, they 
 gave the money, which amounted to 120 talents, 
 to Philopcemen, and determined to send it by 
 persons deputed from their body. 
 
 On this occasion it appeared how clear his 
 integrity was ; that he not only seemed, but ivas 
 a virtuous man. For not one of the Spartans 
 chose to speak to a person of his character about 
 a present ; but afraid of the office, they all ex- 
 cused themselves, and put it upon Timolaus, to 
 whom he was bound by the rights of hospitality. 
 Timolaus went to Megalopolis, and was enter- 
 tained at Philopoemen’s house ; but when he 
 observed the gravity of his discourse, the sim- 
 plicity of his diet, and his integrity of manners, 
 quite impregnable to the attacks and deceits of 
 money, he said not a word about the present, but 
 having assigned another cause for his coming, 
 returned home. He was sent a second time, but 
 could not mention the money. In a third visit he 
 brought it out with much difficulty, and declared 
 the benevolence of Sparta to him. Philopoemen 
 heard with pleasure what he had to say, but im- 
 mediately went himself to, the people of Lacedae- 
 mon, and advised them not to try to tempt good 
 men with money, who were already their friends, 
 and of whose virtues they might freely avail 
 themselves ; but to buy and corrupt ill men, who 
 opposed their measures in council, that, thus 
 silenced, they might give them less trouble ; it 
 being much better to stop the mouths of their 
 enemies than of their friends. Such was Philo- 
 poemen’s contempt of money. 
 
 Some time after, Diophanes, being general of 
 the Achaeans, and hearing that the Lacedae- 
 monians had thoughts of withdrawing from the 
 league, determined to chastise them.* Mean- 
 while, they prepared for war, and raised great 
 commotions in Peloponnesus. Philopoemen tried 
 to appease Diophanes and keep him quiet ; repre- 
 senting to him, that while Antiochus and the 
 Romans were contending in the heart of Greece 
 with two such powerful armies, an Achaean 
 general should turn his attention to them ; and, 
 instead of lighting up a war at home, should over- 
 look and pass by some real injuries. When he 
 found that Diophanes did not hearken to him, but 
 marched along with Flaminius into Laconia, and 
 that they took their route towards Sparta, he did 
 a thing that cannot be vindicated by law and 
 strict justice, but which discovers a great and 
 noble daring. He got into the town himself, and, 
 though but a private man, shut the gates against 
 an Achaean general and a Roman consul ; healed 
 the divisions among the Lacedaemonians, and 
 brought them back to the league. 
 
 Yet, afterwards, when he was general himself, 
 upon some new subject of complaint against that 
 people, he restored their exiles, and put eighty 
 citizens to death, as Polybius tells us, or, accord- 
 ing to Aristocrates, 350. He demolished their 
 walls, took from them great part of their territory, 
 and added it to that of Megalopolis. All who 
 had been made free of Sparta by the tyrants he 
 disfranchised, and carried into Achaia ; except 
 3000 who refused to quit the place, and those he 
 sold for slaves. By way of insult, as it were. 
 
 * The same year, Caius Livius with the Roman 
 fleet debated that of Antiochus, near Ephesus. 
 
262 FLUTARCirs LIVES, 
 
 upon Sparta, with the money arising thence he 
 built a portico in Megalopolis. Pursuing his 
 vengeance against that unhappy people, who had 
 already suffered more than they deserved, he 
 added one cruel and most unjust thing to fill up 
 the measure of it ; he destroyed their constitu- 
 tion. Hi abolished the discipline of Lycurgus, 
 compelled them to give their children and youth 
 an Achasan education, instead of that of their 
 own country, being persuaded that their spirit 
 could never be humbled while they adhered to 
 the institutions of their great lawgiver. Thus 
 brought by the weight of their calamities to have 
 the sinews of their city cut by Philopoemen, they 
 grew tame and submissive. Some time after, 
 indeed, upon application to the Romans, they 
 shook off the Achaean customs, and re-established 
 their ancient ones, as far as it could be done, 
 after so much misery and corruption. 
 
 When the Romans w^ere carrying on the war 
 with Antiochus in Greece, Philopoemen was in a 
 private station. And when he saw Antiochus sit 
 still at Chadcia, and spend his time in youthful 
 love and a marriage unsuitable to his years, 
 while the ^ Syrians roamed from town to town 
 without discipline and without officers, and 
 minded nothing but their pleasures, he repined 
 extremely that he was not then general o> the 
 Achaeans, and scrupled not to declare, that he 
 envied the Romans their victory ; “For had I 
 been in command,” said he, “ I would have cut 
 them all in pieces in the taverns.” After Anti- 
 ochus was overcome, the Romans pressed still 
 harder upon Greece, and hemmed in the Achaeans 
 Avith their power ; the orators too inclined to 
 their interest. Under the auspices of Heaven, 
 their strength prevailed over all ; and the point 
 was at hand, v/here fortune, who had long veered, 
 was to stand still. In these circumstances, 
 Philopoemen, like a good pilot, struggled with the 
 times. Sometimes he was forced to give way a 
 little and yield to the times, but on most occa- 
 sions maintaining the conflict, he endeavoured to 
 draw all that were considerable either for their 
 eloquence or riches, to the side of liberty. 
 Aristaenetus the Megalopolitan, who had great 
 interest among the Achaeans, but always courted 
 the Romans, declared it in council as his opinion 
 that they ought not to be opposed or disobliged 
 in anything. Philopcemen heard him with silent 
 indignation ; and, at last, when he could refrain 
 no longer, said to him, “ And why in such haste, 
 wretched man, to see an end of Greece ? ” 
 Manius,* the Roman consul, after the defeat of 
 Antiochus, moved the Achaeans to permit the 
 Lacedaemonian exiles to return, and Titus se- 
 conded him in his application ; but Philopoemen 
 opposed it, not out of any ill-will to the exiles, 
 but because he was willing they should be 
 indebted for that benefit to himself and the 
 Achaeans, and not to the favour of Titus and 
 the Romans. For the next year, when he was 
 general himself, he restored them. Thus his 
 gallant spirit led him to contend with the pre- 
 vailing powers. 
 
 He was elected general of the Achaeans, the 
 eighth time, when seventy years of age ; and 
 now he hoped not only to pass the year of his 
 magistracy without war, but the remainder of 
 his life in quiet. For as the force of distempers 
 
 * Manius Acilius Glabrio. 
 
 abates with the strength of the body, so in the 
 states of Greece the spirit of contention failed 
 with their power. Some avenging deity, how- 
 ever, threw him down at last, like one who, with 
 matchless speed, runs over the race, and stumbles 
 at the goal. It seems, that being in company 
 where a certain general was mentioned as an 
 extraordinary man, Philopoemen said there was 
 no great account to be made of a man who suf- 
 fered himself to be taken alive. A few days 
 after this. Dinocrates the Messenian, who was 
 particularly on ill terms with Philopoemen, and, 
 indeed, not upon good ones with any one, by 
 reason of his profligate and wicked life, found 
 means to draw Messene off from the league ; and 
 it was also said that he was going to seize a 
 place called Colonis.* Philopoemen was then at 
 Argos, sick of a fever ; but upon this news he 
 pushed to Megalopolis, and reached it in one day, 
 though it was at the distance of 400 furlongs. 
 From thence he presently drew out a body of 
 horse, consisting of the nobility, but all young 
 rnen, who from affection to his person and am- 
 bition for glory, followed him as volunteers. 
 With these he marched towards Messene, and 
 meeting Dinocrates on Evander’s hill,t he at- 
 tacked and put him to flight. But 500 men, who 
 guarded the flat country, suddenly coming up, 
 the others, who were routed, seeing them, rallied 
 again about the hills. Hereupon, Philopoemen, 
 afraid of being surrounded, and desirous of 
 saving his young cavalry, retreated upon rough 
 and difficult ground, while he was in the rear, 
 often turning upon the enemy, and endeavouring 
 to draw them entirely upon himself. Yet none 
 of them dared to encounter him ; they only 
 shouted and rode about him at a distance. As 
 he often faced about, and left his main body, on 
 account of his young men, each of whom he was 
 solicitous to put out of danger, at last he found 
 himself alone amidst a number of the enemy.* 
 Even then they durst not attack him hand to 
 hand, but, hurling their darts at a distance, they 
 drove him upon steep and craggy places, where 
 he could scarcely make his horse go, though he 
 spurred him continually. He was still active 
 through exercise, and for that reason his age was 
 no hindrance to his escape ; but being wea.kened 
 by sickness, and extremely fatigued with his 
 journey, his horse threw him, now heavy and 
 encumbered, upon the stones. His head was 
 wounded with the fall, and he lay a long time 
 speechless, so that the enemy thinking him dead, 
 began to turn him, in order to strip him of his 
 arms. But finding that he raised his head and 
 opened his eyes, they gathered thick about him, 
 bound his hands behind his back, and led him off 
 with such unworthy treatment and gross abuse, 
 as Philopoemen could never have supposed he 
 should come to suffer, even from Dinocrates. 
 
 The Messenians, elated at the news, flocked to 
 
 * There is no such place known as Colonis. 
 Livy (lib. 39) cakis it Corone ; and Plutarch pro- 
 bably wrote Corona, or Coroitis. Strabo men- 
 tions the latter as a place in the neighbourhood 
 of Messene. 
 
 t Evander's hill is likewise unknown. Poly- 
 bius, and after him Pausanias, mentions a hill 
 called (which name it probably had from 
 
 the cries of the Bacchanals) not far from Mes- 
 sene. 
 
FHILOPCEMEN, 
 
 the gates. But when they saw Philopoeinen 
 dragged along in a manner so unworthy of the 
 glory of his achievements and trophies, most of 
 them were touched with pity and compassion for 
 his misfortune. They shed tears, and contemned 
 all human greatness as a faithless support, as 
 vanity and nothing. Their tears, by little and 
 little, turned to kind words, and they began to 
 say, they ought to remember his former benefits, 
 and the liberty he had procured them by ex- 
 pelling the tyrant Nabis. A few there were 
 indeed, who, to gratify Dinocrates, talked of 
 putting Philopoemen to torture and to death, as 
 a dangerous and implacable enemy, and the more 
 to be dreaded by Dinocrates, if he escaped after 
 being made prisoner, and treated with such 
 indignity. At last they put him in a dungeon 
 called the Treasury* which had neither air nor 
 light from without, and which having no doors 
 was closed with a great stone. In this dungeon 
 they shut him up with the stone, and placed a 
 guard around it. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Achsean cavalry recollecting 
 themselves after their flight, found that Philo- 
 poemen was not with them, and probably might 
 have lost his life. They made a stand, and called 
 him with loud cries, blaming each other for 
 making a base and shameful escape, by abandon- 
 ing their general, who had been prodigal of his 
 own life in order to save theirs. By much search 
 and inquiry about the country, they got intelli- 
 gence that he was taken prisoner, and carried 
 the heavy news to the states of Achaia ; who, 
 considering it as the greatest of losses, resolved 
 to send an embassy to demand him of the Mes- 
 senians ; and in the mean time prepared for war. 
 
 While the Achaeans were taking these resolu- 
 tions, Dinocrates, who most of all dreaded time, 
 as the thing most likely to save Philopoemen, 
 determined to be beforehand with the league. 
 Therefore, when night was come and the multi- 
 tude retired, he opened the dungeon, and sent in 
 one of his servants with a dose of poison, and 
 orders not to leave him till he had taken it. 
 Philopoemen was laid down in his cloak, but not 
 asleep ; vexation and resentment kept him awake. 
 When he saw the light and a rtian standing by 
 him with a cup of poison, he raised himself up, 
 as well as his weakness would permit, and, 
 receiving the cup, asked him whether he had 
 heard anything of his cavalry, and particularly 
 of Lycortas ! The executioner answering that 
 they almost all escaped, he nodded his head in 
 sign of satisfaction ; and looking kindly upon 
 him, said, “ Thou bringest good tidings, and we 
 are not in all respects unhappy.” Without utter- 
 ing another word, or breathing the least sigh, he 
 drank off the poison, and laid down again. He 
 was already brought so low that he could not 
 make much struggle with the fatal dose, and it 
 despatched him presently. 
 
 The news of his death filled all Achaia with 
 grief and lamentation. All the youth imme- 
 diately repaired with the deputies of the several 
 
 * The public treasure was kept there ; and it 
 was shut up with an immense stone, moved to it 
 by an engine. Liv. lib. xxxix. 
 
 263 
 
 cities to Megalopolis, where they resolved, with- 
 out loss of time, to take their revenge. For this 
 purpose, having chosen Dycortas* for their 
 general, they entered Messene, and ravaged the 
 country, till the Messenians with one consent 
 opened their gates and received them. Dino- 
 crates prevented their revenge by killing him- 
 self : and those who voted for having Philopoemen 
 put to death, followed his example. But such 
 as were for having him put to the torture, were 
 taken by Lycortas, and reserved for more painful 
 punishments. 
 
 When they had burned his remains, they put 
 the ashes in an urn, and returned not in a dis- 
 orderly and promiscuous manner, but uniting a 
 kind of triumphal march with the funeral 
 solemnity. First came the foot with crowns of 
 victory on their heads, and tears in their eyes ; 
 and attended by their captive enemies in fetters. 
 Polybius, the general’s son, with the principal 
 Achseans about him, carried the urn, which was 
 adorned with ribbons and garlands, so that it vv'as 
 hardly visible. The march was closed by the 
 cavalry completely armed and superbly mounted ; 
 they neither expressed in their looks the melan- 
 choly of such a mourning nor the joy of a victory. 
 The people of the towns and villages on their 
 way, flocked out, as if it had been to meet him 
 returning from a glorious campaign, touched the 
 urn with great respect, and conducted it to 
 Megalopolis. The old men, the women, and 
 children, who joined the procession, raised such 
 a bitter lamentation, that it spread through the 
 army, and was re-echoed by the city, which, 
 besides her grief for Philopoemen, bemoaned her 
 own calamity, as in him she thought she lost the 
 chief rank and influence among the Achseans. 
 
 His interment was suitable to his dignity, and 
 the Messenian prisoners were stoned to death at 
 his tomb. Many statues were set up,_and many 
 honours decreed him by the Grecian cities. But 
 when Greece was involved in the dreadful mis- 
 fortunes of Corinth, a certain Roman attempted 
 to get them all pulled down,t accusing him in 
 form, as if he had been alive, of implacable enmity 
 to the Romans. When he had finished the im- 
 peachment, and Polybius had answered his calum- 
 nies, neither Mummius nor his lieutenants would 
 suffer the monuments of so illustrious a man to 
 be defaced, though he had opposed both Fla- 
 minius and Glabrio not a little. For they made 
 a proper distinction between virtue and interest, 
 between honour and advantage ; well concluding, 
 that rewards and grateful acknowledgm.ents are 
 always due from persons obliged to their bene- 
 factors, and honour and respect from men of 
 merit to each other. So much concerning Philo- 
 pcemen. 
 
 * This was in the second year of the one hun- 
 dred and forty-ninth olympiad. Lycortas was 
 father to Polybius the historian, who was in the 
 action, and might be then about twenty years of 
 age. 
 
 t This happened thirty-seven years after his 
 death, that is, the second year of the hundred 
 and forty-eighth olympiad, 145 years before the 
 Christian era. 
 
264 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 TITUS QUINCTIUS FLAMINIUS. 
 
 The person whom we put in parallel with Philo- 
 pcemen, is Titus Quinctius Flaniinius.* Those 
 who are desirous of being acquainted with his 
 coaiuenance and figure, need but look upon the 
 statue in brass, which is erected at Rome with a 
 Greek inscription upon it, opposite the Circus 
 Maximus, near the great statue of Apollo, which 
 was brought from Carthage. As to his disposi- 
 tion, he was quick both to resent an injury, and 
 to do a service But his resentment was not in 
 all respects like his affection, for he punished 
 lightly, and soon forgot the offence ; but his 
 attachments and services were lasting and com- 
 plete. For the persons whom he had obliged he 
 ever retained a kind regard ; as if, instead of 
 receiving, they had conferred a favour; and con- 
 sidering them as his greatest treasure, he was 
 always ready to protect and to promote them. 
 Naturally covetous of honour and fame, and not 
 choosing to let others have any share in his great 
 and good actions, he took more pleasure in those 
 whom he could assist, than in those who could 
 give him assistance ; looking upon the former as 
 persons who afforded room for the exertion of 
 virtue, and the latter as his rivals in glory. 
 
 From his youth he was trained up to the pro- 
 fession of arms. For Rome having then many 
 important wars upon her hands, her youth betook 
 themselves betimes to arms, and had early op- 
 portunities to qualify themselves to command. 
 Flaminius served like the rest, and was first a 
 legionary tribune, under the consul Marcellus,f 
 in the war with Hannibal. Marcellus fell into 
 an ambuscade and was slain ; after which Fla- 
 minius was appointed governor of Tarentum, 
 newly retaken, and of the countr}’’ about it. In 
 this commission he grew no less famous for his 
 administration of justice than for his military 
 skill, for which reason he was appointed chief 
 director of the two colonies that were sent to the 
 cities of Narnia and Cossa. 
 
 This inspired him with such lofty thoughts, 
 that, overlooking the ordinary previous steps 
 
 * It ought to be written Flaminimis not 
 Flaininius. Polybms, Livy, and all the other 
 historians write it Flaminhius. Indeed, the 
 Flaminii were a very different family from the 
 Flamininii. The former were patricians, the latter 
 plebeians. Caius Flaminius, who was killed in the 
 battle at the lake of Thrasymenus, was of the 
 plebeian family. Besides, some manuscripts, for 
 instance the Vulcob. an Anon, and one that Dacier 
 consulted, have it Flamininus ; which would be 
 sufficient authority to correct it. But that would 
 occasion some inconvenience, because Plutarch 
 has called him Flaminius in other places as well 
 as here in his life ; and, indeed, several modern 
 writers have done the same. 
 
 t He vyas appointed a tribune at the age of 
 twenty, in the fourth year of the hundred 
 and forty-second olympiad. Consequently, he 
 was born in the first year of the hundred and 
 thirty-eighth olympiad, which was the year of 
 Rome 526. Livy tells us, that he was thirty- 
 three years of age, when he proclaimed liberty to 
 Greece. 
 
 by which young men ascend, I mean the offices 
 of tribune, praetor, and aedile, he aimed directly 
 at the consulship. Supported by those colonists, 
 he presented himself as a candidate. But the 
 tribunes Fulvius and Manlius opposed him, in- 
 sisting that it was a strange and unheard-of thing, 
 for a man so young, who was not yet initiated in 
 the first mysteries of government, to intrude, in 
 contempt of the laws, into the highest office of 
 the state. The senate referred the affair to the 
 suffrages of the people ; and the people elected 
 him consul, though he was not yet thirty years 
 old, with Sextus ^Elius. The lots being cast for 
 the provinces, the war with Philip and the Mace- 
 donians fell to Flaminius ; and this happened 
 very fortunately for the Roman people ; as that 
 department required a general who did not want 
 to do everything by force and violence, but 
 rather by gentleness and persuasion. For Mace- 
 donia furnished Philip with a sufficient number 
 of men for his wars, but Greece was his principal 
 dependence for a war of any length. She it was 
 that supplied him with money and provisions, 
 with strongholds and places of retreat, and, in 
 a word, with all the materials of war. So that 
 if she could not be disengaged from Philip, the 
 war with him could not be decided by a single 
 battle. Besides, the Greeks as yet had but little 
 acquaintance with the Romans ; it was now first 
 to be established by the intercourse of business : 
 and therefore, they would not so soon have em- 
 braced a foreign authority, instead of that they 
 had been so long accustomed to, if the Roman 
 general had not been a man of great good nature, 
 who was more ready to avail himself of treaty 
 tnan of the sword, who had a persuasive manner 
 where he applied, and was affable and easy of 
 access when applied to, and who had a constant 
 and invariable regard to justice. But this will 
 better appear from his actions themselves. 
 
 Titus finding that Sulpitius and Publius,* his 
 predecessors in command, had not entered Mace- 
 donia till late in the season, and then did not 
 prosecute the war with vigour, but spent their 
 time in skirmishing to gain some particular post 
 or pass, or to intercept some provisions, deter- 
 mined not to act like them. They had wasted 
 the year of their consulate in the enjoyment of 
 their new honours, and in the administration of 
 domestic affairs, and towards the close of the 
 year they repaired to their province : by which 
 artifice they got their command continued another 
 year, being the first year in character of consul, 
 £tnd the second of proconsul. But Titus, am- 
 bitious to distinguish his consulship by some 
 important expedition, left the honours and pre- 
 rogatives he had in Rome'; and having requested 
 the senate to permit his brother Lucias to command 
 the naval forces, and select 3000 men, as yet in 
 full vigour and spirits, and the glory of the field, 
 from those troops, who, under Scipio, had sub- 
 dued Asdrubal in Spain, and Hannibal in Africa, 
 he crossed the sea, and got safe into Epirus. 
 
 * Publius Sulpitius Galba was consul two years 
 before. Publius Villius Tappulus was Consul the 
 year after Sulpitius, and next before Flaminius. 
 
TITUS QUINCTIUS FLAMINIUS. 265 
 
 There he found Publius encamped over against 
 Philip, who had been a long time defending the 
 fords of the river Apsus and the adjoining straits ; 
 and that Publius had not been able to effect any- 
 thing, by reason of the natural strength of the 
 place. 
 
 Titus having taken the command of the army, 
 and sent Publius home, set himself to consider 
 the nature of the country. Its natural fortifica- 
 tions are equal to those of Tempe, but it is not 
 like Tempe in the beauty of the woods and 
 groves, and the verdure of valleys and delicious 
 meads. To the right and left there is a chain of 
 lofty mountains, between which there is a deep 
 and long channel. Down this runs the river 
 Apsus, like the Peneus, both in its appearance 
 and rapidity. It covers the foot of the hills on 
 each side, so that there is left only a narrow 
 craggy path, cut out close by the stream, which 
 is not easy for an army to pass at any time, and, 
 when guarded, is not passable at all. 
 
 There were some, therefore, who advised Fla- 
 minius to take a compass through Dassaretis 
 along the Lycus, which was an easy passage. 
 But he was afraid that if he removed too far from 
 the sea into a country that was barren and little 
 cultivated, while Philip avoided a battle he might 
 come to want provisions, and be constrained, like 
 the general before him, to retreat to the sea, with- 
 out effecting anything. This determined him 
 to make his way up the mountains sword in hand, 
 and to force a passage. But Philip’s army being 
 possessed of the heights, showered down their 
 darts and arrows upon the Romans from every 
 quarter. Several sharp contests ensued, in which 
 many were killed and wounded on both sides, 
 but none that were likely to be decisive. 
 
 In the mean time, some shepherds of those 
 mountains came to the consul with a discovery 
 of a winding way, neglected by the enemy, by 
 which they promised to bring his army to the top 
 in three days at the farthest. _ And to confirm 
 the truth of what they had said, they brought 
 Charops the son of hlachatus, prince of the 
 Epirots : who was a friend to the Romans, and 
 privately assisted them out of fear of Philip. As 
 Fiaminius could confide in him, he sent away a 
 tribune with 4000 foot and 300 horse. The shep- 
 herds in bonds led the way. In the day time 
 they lay still in the hollows of the woods, and in 
 the night they marched ; for the moon was then 
 at full. Fiaminius having detached this party, 
 let his main body rest the three days, and only 
 had some slight skirmishes with the enemy to 
 take up their attention. But the day that he 
 expected those who had taken the circuit, to 
 appear upon the heights, he drew out his forces 
 early, both the heavy and light-armed, and divid- 
 ing them into three parts, himself led the van ; 
 marching his men along the narrowest path b}-- 
 the side of the river. The Macedonians galled 
 him with their darts ; but he maintained the 
 combat notwithstanding the disadvantage of 
 ground ; and the other two parties fought with 
 all the spirit of emulation, and clung to the rocks 
 with astonishing ardour. 
 
 In the mean time the sun arose, and a smoke 
 appeared at a distance, not very strong, but like 
 the mist of the hills. Being on the back of the 
 enemy, they did not observe it, for it came from 
 the troops who had reached the top. Amidst the 
 fatigue of the engagement, the Romans were in 
 
 doubt whether it was a signal or not, but they 
 inclined to believe it the thing they wished. And 
 when they saw it Increase, so as to darken the 
 air, and to mount higher and higher, they were 
 well assured that it came from the fires which 
 their friends had lighted. Hereupon they set up 
 loud shouts, and charing the enemy with greater 
 vigour, pushed them into the most craggy places. 
 The shouts were re-echoed by those behind at 
 the top of the mountain. And now the Macedo- 
 nians fled with the utmost precipitation. Yet 
 there were not above 2000 slain, the pursuit being 
 impeded by the difficulty of the ascent. The 
 Romans, however, pillaged the camp, seized the 
 money and slaves, and became absolute masters 
 of the pass. 
 
 They then traversed all Epirus, but with such 
 order and discipline, that though they were at a 
 great distance from their ships and the sea, and 
 had not the usual monthly allowance of corn, or 
 convenience of markets, yet they spared the 
 country, which at the same time abounded in 
 everything. For Fiaminius was informed that 
 Philip, in his passage or rather flight through 
 Thessaly, had compelled the peop'e to quit their 
 habitations, and retire to the mountains, had 
 burned the towns, and had given as plunder to 
 his men what was too heavy or cumbersom-e to 
 be carried off ; and so had in a manner yielded 
 up the country to the Romans. The Consul, 
 therefore, made a point of it to prevail with his 
 men to spare it as their own, to march through 
 it as land already ceded to them. 
 
 The event soon showed the benefit of this good 
 order. For as soon as they entered Thessaly, ail 
 its cities declared for them ; and the Greeks with- 
 in Thermopylse longed for the protection of Fia- 
 minius, and gave up their hearts to him. The 
 Achaeans renounced their alliance with Philip, 
 and by a solemn decree resolved to take part with 
 the Romans against him. And though the ^to- 
 lians, who at that time were strongly attached to 
 the Romans, made the Opuntians an offer to 
 garrison and defend their city, they refused it; 
 and having sent for Fiaminius, put themselves in 
 his hands. 
 
 It is reported of Pyrrhus, when from an emin- 
 ence he had first a prospect of the disposition of 
 the Roman army, that he said, “ I see nothing 
 barbarian-like in the ranks of these barbarians. 
 Indeed, all who once saw tiaminius, spoke of 
 him in the same terms. They had heard the 
 Macedonians represent him as the fierce com- 
 mander of a host of barbarians, who was come to 
 ruin and destroy, and to reduce all to slavery : 
 and, when afterwards they met a young man of 
 a mild aspect, who spoke very good Greek, and 
 was a lover of true honour, they were extremely 
 taken with him, and excited the kind regards of 
 their cities to him, as to a general who would 
 lead them to liberty. 
 
 After this, Philip seeming inclined to treat, 
 Fiaminius came to an interview with him, * and 
 offered him peace and friendship with Rome, on 
 condition that he left the Grecians free, and with- 
 drew his garrisons from their cities. And as he 
 refused those terms, it was obvious, even to the 
 partisans of Philip, that the Romans were not 
 come to fight against the Greeks, but for Greece 
 against the Macedonians. 
 
 * See Polybius, Book xvii. 
 
265 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 The rest of Greece acceding voluntarily to the 
 confederacy^ the Consul entered Boeotia, but in 
 a peaceable manner, and the chief of the Thebans 
 came to meet him. They were inclined, to the 
 Macedonian interest on account of Barchyllas, 
 but they honoured and respected Flaminius, and 
 were willing to preserve the friendship of both. 
 Flaminius received them with great goodness, 
 embraced them, and went on slowly with them, 
 asking various questions, and entertaining them 
 with discourse, on purpose to give his soldiers 
 time to come up. Thus advancing insensibly to 
 the gates of Thebes, he entered the city with 
 them. They did not indeed quite relish the 
 thing, but they were afraid to forbid him, as he 
 came so well attended. Then, as if he had been 
 no way'^s master of the town, he endeavoured by 
 persuasion to bring it to declare for the Romans ; 
 king Attains seconding him, and using all his 
 rhetoric to the Thebans. But that prince, it 
 seems, in his eagerness to serve Flaminius, ex- 
 erting himself more than his age could bear, was 
 seized, as he was speaking, with a giddiness or 
 rheum, which made him swoon away. A few 
 days after, his fleet conveyed him into Asia, and 
 he died there. As for the Bceotians, they took 
 part with the Romans. 
 
 As Philip sent an embassy to Rome, Flaminius 
 also sent his agents to procure a decree of the 
 senate prolonging his commission if the war con- 
 tinued, or else empowering him to make peace. 
 For his ambition made him apprehensive, that if 
 a successor were sent, he should be robbed of all 
 the honour of the war. Plis friends managed 
 matters so well for him, that Philip failed in his 
 application, and the command was continued to 
 Flaminius. Having received the decree, he was 
 greatly elevated in his hopes, and marched imme- 
 diately into Thessaly to carry on the war against 
 Philip. His army consisted of more than 26,000 
 men, of whom the iEtolians furnished 6000 foot, 
 and 300 horse. Philip’s forces were not inferior 
 in number. They marched against each other, 
 and arrived near Scotusa, where they proposed 
 to decide the affair with the sword. The vicinity 
 of two such armies had not the usual effect, to 
 strike the officers with a mutual awe ; on the 
 contrary, it increased their courage and ardour ; 
 the Romans being ambitious to conquer the 
 Macedonians, whose valour and power Alexander 
 had rendered so famous, and the Macedonians 
 hoping, if they could beat the Romans, whom 
 they looked upon as a more respectable enemy 
 than the Persians, to raise the glory of Philip 
 above that of Alexander. Flaminius, therefore, 
 exhorted his men to behave with the greatest 
 courage and gallantry, as they had to contend 
 with brave adversaries in so glorious a theatre as 
 Greece. On the other side, Philip, in order to 
 address his army, ascended an eminence vathout 
 his camp, which happened to be a burying-place, 
 either not knowing it to be so, or in the hurry 
 not attending to it. There he began an oration, 
 such as is usual before a battle ; but the omen of 
 a sepulchre spreading a dismal melancholy among 
 the troops, he stopped, and put off the action till 
 another day. 
 
 hjext morning at daybreak, after a rainy night, 
 the clouds turning into a mist, darkened the 
 plain ; and, as the day came on, a foggy thick air 
 descending from the hills, covered all the ground 
 between the two camps. Those, therefore, that 
 
 were sent out on both sides, to seize posts or to 
 make discoveries, soon meeting unawares, en- 
 gaged at the Cynoscephalce, which are sharp tops 
 of hills standing opposite each other, and so called 
 from their resemblance to the heads of dogs. The 
 success of these skirmishes was various, by reason 
 of the unevenness of the ground, the same parties 
 sometimes flying and sometimes pursuing ; and 
 reinforcements were sent on both sides, as they ' 
 found their men hard pressed and giving way; 
 till at length, the day clearing up, the action 
 became general. Philip, who was in the right 
 wing, advanced from the rising ground with his 
 whole phalanx against the Romans, who could 
 not, even the bravest of them, stand the shock of 
 the united shields and the projected spears.^' 
 But the Macedonian left wing being separated 
 and intersected by the hills, f Flaminius observing 
 that, and having no hopes on the side where his 
 troops gave way, hastened to the other, and there 
 charged the enemy, where, on account of the 
 inequality and roughness of the country, they 
 could not keep in the close form of a phalanx, 
 nor line their ranks to any great depth, but were 
 forced to fight man to man, in heavy and un- 
 wieldy armour. For the Macedonian phalanx is 
 like an animal of enormous strength, while it 
 keeps in one body, and preserves its union of 
 locked shields ; but when that is broken, each 
 particular soldier loses of his force, as well because 
 of the form of his armour, as because the strength 
 of each consists rather in his being a part of the 
 whole, than in his single person. When these 
 were routed, some gave chase to the fugitives ; 
 others took those Macedonians in flank who were 
 still fighting, the slaughter was great, and the 
 wing, lately victorious, soon broke in such a 
 manner, that they threw down their arms and 
 fled. There were no less than 8000 slain, and 
 about 5000 were taken prisoners. That Philip 
 himself escaped, was chiefly owing to the 
 ALtolians, who took to plundering the camp, 
 while the Romans were busied in the pursuit, 
 so that at their return there was nothing left for 
 them. 
 
 This from the first occasioned quarrels and 
 mutual reproaches. But afterwards Flaminius 
 was hurt much more sensibly, when the ALtolians 
 ascribed the victory to themselves, t and en- 
 deavoured to prepossess the Greeks that the fact 
 was really so. This report got such ground, that 
 the poets and others, in the verses that were com- 
 posed and sung on this occasion, put them before 
 the Romans. The verses most in vogue were the 
 following : — 
 
 * The pike of the fifth man in file projected 
 beyond the front. There was, therefore, an 
 amazing strength in the phalanx, while it stood 
 firm. But it had its inconveniences. It could 
 not act at all except in a level and clear field. 
 PoLYB. lib. xvii. stib sin. 
 
 t Plutarch makes no mention of the elephants, 
 which, according to Livy and Polybius, were 
 very serviceable to Flaminius. 
 
 i Polybius informs us, that the Macedonians 
 in the first encounter had the advantage, and 
 beat the Romans from the tops of the mountains 
 they had gained. And he affirms, that in all 
 probability the Romans would have been put to 
 flight, had they not been supported by the 
 iLtolian cavalry. 
 
TITUS QUINCTIUS FLAMINIUS. 
 
 267 
 
 Stranger ! unwept, unhonour’d with a grave. 
 
 See tl^ice ten thousand bodies of the brave ! 
 
 The fierce yEtolians, and the Latian power 
 by Flaminius, ruled the vengeful hour : 
 Eaiathia’s scourge, beneath whose stroke they 
 bled, 
 
 And swifter than the roe the mighty Philip fled. 
 
 Alcaeus wrote this epigram in ridicule of Philip, 
 and purposely misrepresented the number of the 
 slain. The epigram was indeed in everybody’s 
 mouth, but Flaminius was much more hurt by it 
 than Philip : for the latter parodied Alcaeus, as 
 follows : 
 
 Stranger ! unleaved, unhonour’d e’en v/ith bark. 
 See this sad tree, the gibbet of Alcjsus ! 
 
 Flaminius, who was ambitious of the praise of 
 Greece, was not a little provoked at this ; and 
 therefore managed everything afterwards by him- 
 self, paying very little regard to the iEtolians. 
 They in their turn indulged their resentment; 
 and, when Flaminius had admitted proposals for 
 an accommodation, and received an embassy for 
 that purpose from Philip, the -^tolians exclaimed 
 in all the cities of Greece, that he sold the peace 
 to the Macedonian, at a time when he might 
 have put a final period to the war, and have 
 destroyed that empire which first enslaved the 
 Grecians. These speeches, though groundless, 
 greatly perplexed the allies; but Philip coming 
 in person to treat, and submitting himself and his 
 kingdom to the discretion of Flaminius and the 
 Romans, removed all suspicion. 
 
 Thus Flaminius put an end to the war. He 
 restored Philip his kingdom, but obliged him to 
 quit all claim to Greece : he fined him iocx> 
 talents ; took away all his ships except ten ; and 
 sent Demetrius, one of his sons, hostage to Rome. 
 In this pacification, he made a happy use of the 
 present, and wisely provided for the time to come. 
 For Hannibal the Carthaginian, an inveterate 
 enemy to the Romans, and now an exile, being 
 at the court of Antiochus,^ exhorted him to meet 
 fortune, who opened her arms to him ; and 
 Antiochus himself seeing his power very con- 
 siderable, and that his exploits had already 
 gained him the title of the Great, began now to 
 think of universal monarchy, and particularly of 
 setting himself , against the Romans. Had not 
 Flaminius, therefore, in his great wisdom foreseen 
 this, and made peace,! Antiochus might have 
 joined Philip in the war with Greece, and those 
 two kings, then the most powerful in the world, 
 have made a common cause of it ; which would 
 have called Rome again to as great conflicts and 
 dangers as she had experienced in the war with 
 Hannibal. But Flaminius, by thus putting an 
 intermediate space of peace betw'een the two 
 wars, and finishing the one before the other 
 
 * This is a mistake. Hannibal did not come 
 to the court of Antiochus till the year after 
 Flaminius had proclaimed liberty to Greece at 
 the Isthmian games ; Cato and Valerius Flaccus, 
 who were then consuls, having sent an embassy 
 to Carthage to complain of him. 
 
 t Polybius tells us, Flaminius was induced to 
 conclude a peace upon the intelligence he had 
 received, that Antiochus was marching towards 
 Gre^e with a powerful army ; and he was afraid 
 Philip might lay hold on that advantage to con- 
 tinue the war. 
 
 began, cut off at once the last hope of Philip, and 
 the first oT Antiochus. 
 
 The ten commissioners now sent by the senate 
 to assist Flaminius advised him to set the rest of 
 Greece free, but to keep garrisons in the cities of 
 Corinth, Chalcis, and Demetrias, to secure them 
 in case of a war with Antiochus. But the ^Eto- 
 lians, always severe in their accusations, and nov/ 
 more so than ever, endeavoured to excite a spirit 
 of insurrection in the cities, calling upon Fla- 
 minius to knock off the shackles of Greece ; for so 
 Philip used to term those cities. They asked the 
 Greeks if they did not find their chain very 
 comfortable, now it v/as more polished, though 
 heavier than before ; and if they did not consider 
 Flaminius as the greatest of benefactors, for un- 
 fettering their feet, and binding them by the 
 neck. Flaminius, afflicted at these clamours, 
 begged of the council of deputies, and at last 
 prevailed with them, to deliver those cities from 
 the garrisons, in order that his favour to the 
 Grecians might be perfect and entire. 
 
 They were then celebrating the Isthmian 
 games, and an innumerable company was seated 
 to see the exercises. For Greece was now enjoy- 
 ing full peace after a length of wars, and, big 
 v/ith the eiipectations of hberty, had given into 
 these festivities on that occasion. Silence being 
 commanded by sound of trumpet, an herald went 
 forth and made proclamation that the Roman 
 senate, and Titus Quinctius Flaminius, the general 
 and proconsul, having vanquished king Philip and 
 the Macedonians, took off ail impositions, and 
 withdrew all garrisons from Greece, and restored 
 liberty, and their own lav/s and privileges, to the 
 Corinthians, Locrians, Puocians, Euboeans, 
 Achaans, Phthistae, Magnesians, Thessalians, 
 and Perrhsebians. 
 
 At first the proclamation was not generally or 
 distinctly heard, but a confused murmur ran 
 through the theatre ; some wondering, some 
 questioning, and others calling upon the herald 
 to repeat what he had said. Silence being again 
 commanded, the herald raised his voice, so as to 
 be heard distinctly by the wfflole assembly. The 
 shout which they gave, in the transport of joy", 
 was so prodigious, that it was heard as far as the 
 sea. The people left their seaLs; there w^as no 
 farther regard paid to the diversions ; all hast- 
 ened to embrace and address the preserver and 
 protector of Greece. The h3rperbolical accounts 
 that have often been given of the effect of loud 
 shouts, were verified on that occasion. For the 
 crows, which then happened to be flying over 
 their heads, fell into the theatre. The breaking 
 of the air seems to have been the cause. For the 
 sound of many united voices being violently 
 strong, the parts of the air are separated by it, 
 and a void is left, which affords the birds no 
 support. Or perhaps the force of the sound strikes 
 the birds like an arrow, and kills them in an 
 instant. Or possibly a circular motion is caused 
 in the air, as a whirlpool is produced in the sea 
 by the agitations of a storm. 
 
 If Flaminius, as soon as he saw the assembly 
 risen, and the crowd rushing towards him, had 
 not avoided them, and got under covert, he must 
 have been surrounded, and, in all probability, 
 suffocated by such a multitude. When they had 
 almost spent themselves in acclamations about 
 his pavilion, and night was now come, they 
 retired; and whatever friends or fellow-citizens 
 
268 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 they happened to see, they embraced arijd caressed 
 again, and then went and concluded the evening 
 together in feasting and merriment. There, no 
 doubt, redoubling their joy, they began to recol- 
 lect and talk of the state of Greece : they ob- 
 served, that notwithstanding the many great 
 wars she had been engaged in for liberty, she had 
 never gained a more secure or agreeable enjoy- 
 ment of it, than now when others had fought for 
 her ; that glorious and important prize now 
 hardly costing them a drop of blood, or a tear. 
 That, of human excellencies, valour and pru- 
 dence were but rarely met with, but that justice 
 was still more uncommon. That such generals as 
 Agesilaus, Lysander, Nicias, and Alcibiades, 
 knew how to manage a war, and to gain victories 
 both by sea and land ; but they knew not how 
 to apply their success to generous and noble pur- 
 poses. So that if one excepted the battles of 
 Marathon, of Salamis, Platsea, and Thermopylae, 
 and the actions of Cimon upon the Eurymedon, 
 and near Cyprus, Greece had fought to no other 
 purpose but to bring the yoke upon herself, all 
 the trophies she had erected were monuments of 
 her dishonour, and at last her affairs were ruined 
 by the unjust ambition of her chiefs. But these 
 strangers, who had scarce a spark of anything 
 Grecian left,* who scarce retained a faint tra- 
 dition of their ancient descent from us, from 
 whom the least inclination, or even word in our 
 behalf, could not have been expected; these 
 strangers have run the greatest risks, and sub- 
 mitted to the greatest labours, to deliver Greece 
 from her cruel and tyrannic masters, and to crown 
 her with liberty again. 
 
 These were the reflections the Grecians made, 
 and the actions of Flaminius justified them, being 
 quite agreeable to his proclamation. For he 
 immediately despatched Lentulus into Asia, to 
 set the Bargyllians free, and Titillius f into 
 Thrace, to draw Philip’s garrisons out of the 
 towns and adjacent islands. Publius Villius set 
 sail in order to treat with Antiochus about the 
 freedom of the Grecians under him. And Fla- 
 minius himself went to Chalcis, and sailed from 
 thence to Magnesia, where he removed the garri- 
 son, and put the government again in the hands 
 of the people. 
 
 At Argos, being appointed director of the 
 Nemean games, he settled the whole order of 
 them in the most agreeable manner, and on that 
 occasion caused liberty to be proclaimed again by 
 the crier. And as he passed through the other 
 cities, he strongly recommended to them an 
 adherence to law, a strict course of justice, and 
 domestic peace and unanimity. He healed their 
 divisions ; he restored their exiles. In short, he 
 took not more pleasure in the conquest of the 
 Macedonians, than in reconciling the Greeks to 
 each other ; and their liberty now appeared the 
 least of the benefits he had conferred upon them. 
 
 It is said, that when Lycurgus the orator had 
 delivered Xenocrates the philosopher out of the 
 hands of the tax-gatherers who were hurrying him 
 to prison for the tax paid by strangers, and had 
 
 * According to Dionysius ot Halicarnassus, 
 Rome was stocked with inhabitants at first, 
 chiefly from those Grecian colonies which had 
 settled in the south of Italy before the time of 
 Romulus. 
 
 t Polybius and Livy call him Lucius Stertinius. 
 
 prosecuted them for their insolence ; Xenocrates 
 afterwards meeting the children of Lycurgus, 
 said to them, “ Children, I have made a noble 
 return to your father for the service he did me ; 
 for all the world praise him for it.” But the 
 returns which attended Flaminius and the 
 Romans, for thpir beneficence to the Greeks, 
 terminated not in praises only, but justly pro- 
 cured them the confidence of all mankind, and 
 added greatly to their power. For now a variety 
 of people not only accepted the governors set 
 over them by Rome, but even sent for them, and 
 begged to be under their government. And not 
 only cities and commonwealths, but kings, when 
 injured by other kings, had recourse to their pro- 
 tection. So that, the divine assistance too per- 
 haps co-operating, in a short time the whole world 
 became subject to them. Flaminius also valued 
 himself most upon the liberty he had bestowed 
 on Greece. For having dedicated some silver 
 bucklers together with his own shield, at Delphi, 
 he put upon them the following inscription : 
 
 Ye Spartan twins, who tamed the foaihing steed. 
 Ye friends, ye patrons of each glorious deed. 
 Behold Flaminius of .<!Eneas’ line, 
 
 Presents this offering at your awful shrine. 
 
 Ye sons of love, your generous paths he trod. 
 
 And snatch’d from Greece each little tyrant’s rod. 
 
 He offered also to Apollo a golden crown, with 
 these verses inscribed on it : 
 
 See grateful Titus homage pay 
 
 To thee, the glorious god of day ; 
 
 See him with gold thy locks adorn. 
 
 Thy locks which shed th’ ambrosial morn. 
 
 O grant him fame and every gift divine, 
 
 Who led the warriors of iEneas’ line. 
 
 The Grecians have had the noble gift of liberty 
 twice conferred upon them in the city of Corinth : 
 by Flaminius then, and by Nero in our times. 
 It was granted both times during the celebration 
 of the Isthmian games. Flaminius had it pro- 
 claimed by a herald ; but Nero himself declared 
 the Grecians free and at liberty to be governed 
 by their own laws, in an oration which he made 
 from the rostrum in the public assembly. This 
 happened long after.* 
 
 Flaminius next undertook a ve^ just and hon- 
 ourable war against Nabis, the wicked and aban- 
 doned tyrant of Lacedsemon ; but in this case he 
 disappointed the hopes of Greece. For, though 
 he might have taken him prisoner, he would not ; 
 but struck up a league with him, and left Sparta 
 unworthily in bondage ! whether it was that he 
 feared, if the war was drawn out to any length, a 
 successor would be sent him from Rome, who 
 would rob him of the glory of it ; or whether in 
 his passion for fame he was jealous of the reputa- 
 tion ot Philoposmen : a man who on all occasions 
 had distinguished himself among the Greeks, and 
 in that war particularly had given wonderful 
 proofs both of courage and conduct ; insomuch 
 that the Achseans gloried in him as much as in 
 Flaminius, and- paid him the same respect in 
 their theatres. This greatly hurt Flaminius ; he 
 could not bear that an Arcadian, who had only 
 commanded in some inconsiderable wars upon 
 the confines of his own country, should be held in 
 equal admiration with a Roman Consul, who had 
 
 * Two hundred and sixty-three years. 
 
TITUS QUINCTIUS FLAMINIUS, 269 
 
 fought for all Greece. Flaminius, however, did 
 not want apologies for his conduct . for he 
 he put an end to the war, because he saw he could 
 not destroy the tyrant without involving all the 
 Spartans in the mean time in great calamities.* 
 The Achaeans decreed Flaminius many honours, 
 but none seemed equal to his services, unless it 
 were one present, which pleased him above all 
 the rest. It was this : The Romans who had the 
 misfortune to be taken prisoners in the war with 
 Hannibal, were sold for slaves, and dispersed in 
 various places. Twelve hundred of them were 
 now in Greece. That sad reverse of fortune made 
 them always unhappy, but now (as might be 
 expected) they were still more so, when they met 
 their sons, their brothers, or their acquaintance, 
 and saw them free while they were slaves, and 
 conquerors while they were captives. Flaminius 
 did not pretend to take them from their masters, 
 though his heart sympathized with their distress. 
 But the Achseans redeemed them at the rate of 
 five minse a man, and having collected them 
 together, made Flaminius a present of them, just 
 as he was going on board \ so that he set sail with 
 great satisfaction, having found a glorious recom- 
 pense for his glorious services, a return suitable 
 to a man of such humane sentiments and such a 
 lover of his countiy. This indeed made the most 
 illustrius"^ part of his triumph. For these poor men 
 got their heads .shaved, and wore the cap of liberty, 
 as the custom of slaves is upon their manumission, 
 and in this habit they followed the chariot of 
 Flaminius. But to add t9 the splendour of the 
 show, there were the Grecian helmets, the Mace- 
 donian targets and spears, and the other spoils 
 carried in great pomp before him. And the quan- 
 tity of money was not small ; for, as Itanus relates 
 it, there were carried in this triumph 3713 pounds 
 oi unwrought gold, 43,270 of silver, 14,514 pieces 
 of coined gold called Philippics; besides which, 
 Philip owed a thousand talents. But the Romans 
 were afterwards prevailed upon, chiefly by the 
 mediation of Flaminius, to remit this debt ; Philip 
 was declared their ally, and his son, who had been 
 with them as an hostage, sent home. 
 
 After this Antiochus passed over into Greece 
 with a great fleet and a pov/erful army, and 
 solicited the states to join him. The iEtolians, 
 who had been a long time ill affected to the 
 Romans, took his part, and suggested this pretence 
 for the war, that he came- to bring the Grecians 
 liberty. The Grecians had no want of it, for they 
 were free alreaoy ; but, as he had no better cause 
 to assign, they instructed him to cover his attempt 
 with that splendid pretext. 
 
 * Livy touches upon this reason ; but at the 
 same time he mentions others more to the honour 
 of this great man. Winter was now coming on, 
 and the siege of Sparta might have lasted a con- 
 siderable time. The enemy’s country was so 
 exhausted, that it could not supply him with pro- 
 visions, and It was difficult to get convoys from 
 any other quarter. Besides, Villius was returned 
 from the court of Antiochus, and brought advice 
 that the peace with that prince was not to be 
 depended upon. In fact, he had alieady entered 
 Europe with a fleet and army more numerous 
 than before. And what forces had they to oppose 
 him, in case of a rupture, if Flaminius continued 
 to employ his in the siege of Sparta ? Liv. xxxiv. 
 33 > 31 • 
 
 The Romans, fearing, on this account, a revolt 
 in Greece, as well as the strength of Antiochus, 
 sent the Consul Manius Acilius to command in 
 the war, but appointed P'laminius his lieutenant,* 
 for the sake of his influence in Greece. His 
 appearance there immediately confirmed such as 
 were yet friends, in their fidelity, and prevented 
 those who were wavering from an entire defection. 
 This was effected by the respect they bore him ; 
 for it operated like a potent remedy at the begin- 
 ning of a disease. There were few, indeed, so 
 entirely gained and corrupted by the zEtoiians, 
 that his interest did not prevail with them ; yet 
 even these, though he was much exasperated 
 against them at present, he saved a^terthe battle. 
 For Antioclius, being defeated at Thermopylm, 
 and forced to fly, immediately embarked for Asia. 
 Upon this, the (Jonsul Manius went against some 
 of the iEtolians, and besieged their towns, aban- 
 doning others to Philip. Thus great ravages were 
 committed by the Macedonians among the Dolo- 
 pians and Magnesians on one hand, and among 
 the Athamanians and Aperantians on the other ; 
 and ISlanius himself, having sacked the city of 
 Heraclea, besieged Naupactus, then in the hands 
 of the .(Etolians. But Flaminius, being touched 
 with compassion for Greece, went from Pelopon- 
 nesus to the Consul by water. He began with 
 remonstrating, that the Consul, though he had 
 won the victory himself, suffered Philip to reap 
 the fruits of it ; and that while, to gratify his 
 resentment, he spent his time about one town, the 
 Macedonians were subduing whole provinces and 
 kingdoms. The besieged happened to see Fla- 
 minius, called to him from the walls, stretched 
 out their hands, and begged his interposition. 
 He gave them no answer, but turned round and 
 wept, and then immediately withdrew. After- 
 wards, however, he discoursed with Manius so 
 effectually, that he appeased his anger, and pro- 
 cured the yEtolians a trace, and time to send 
 deputies to Rome, to petition for favourable terms. 
 
 But he had much greater difficulties to combat, 
 when he applied to Manius in behalf of the Chal- 
 cidians. The Consul was highly incensed at 
 them, on account of the marriage which Antiochus 
 celebrated among them, even after the war was 
 begun ; a marriage every way unsuitable as well 
 as unseasonable ; for he was far advanced in 
 years, and the bride very young. The person he 
 thus fell in love with was daughter to Cieopto- 
 lemus, and a virgin of incomparable beauty. 
 This match brought the Chalcidians entirely into 
 the king’s interest, and they suffered him to make 
 use of their city as a place of arms. After the 
 battle he fled with great precipitat.on to Chalcis, 
 and taking with him his young wife, his treasures, 
 and his friends, sailed from thence to Asia. And 
 now Manius in his indignation marched directly 
 against Chalcis, Flaminius followed, and endea- 
 voured to appease his resentment. At last he 
 succeeded, by his assiduities with him and the 
 most respectable Romans who were likely to have 
 an influence upon him. The Chalcidians, thus 
 saved from destruction, consecrated the most 
 beautiful and the nob.est of their public edifices 
 to Titus Flaminius ; and such inscriptions as^these 
 are to be seen upon them to this day: “The 
 
 * According to Livy, it was not Titus, but 
 Lucius Quinctius who was appointed lieutenant 
 to Glabrio. 
 
^70 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 people dedicated this Gymnasium to Titus and 
 Hercules : the people consecrate the Delphinium 
 to Titus and Apollo.” Nay, what is more, even 
 in our days a priest of Titus is formally elected 
 and declared ; and on occasions of sacrifice to 
 him, when the libations are over, they sing a 
 hymn, the greatest part of which, for the length 
 of it, I omit, and only give the conclusion : 
 
 While Rome’s protecting power we prove, 
 
 Her faith adore, her virtues love. 
 
 Still, as our strains to heaven aspire, 
 
 Let Rome and Titus wake the lyre ! 
 
 To these our grateful altars blaze. 
 
 And our long Pseans pour immortal praise. 
 
 The rest of the Grecians conferred upon him all 
 due honours ; and what realized those honours, 
 and added to their lustre, was the extraordinary 
 affection of the people, which he had gained by 
 his lenity and moderation. For if he happened 
 to be at variance with any one, upon account of 
 business, or about a point of honour, as, for 
 instance, with Philopoemen, and with Diophanes 
 general of the Achseans, he never gave into malig- 
 nity, or carried his resentment into action, but 
 let it expire in words, in such expostulations as 
 the freedom of public debates may seem to justify. 
 Indeed, no man ever found him vindictive, but 
 he often discovered a hastiness and passionate 
 turn. Setting this aside, he was the most agree- 
 able man in the world, and a pleasantry mixed 
 with strong sense distinguished his conversation. 
 Thus, to divert the Achseans from their purpose 
 of conquering the island of Zacynthus, he told 
 them It was as dangerous for them to put their 
 heads out of Peloponnesus, as it was for the 
 tortoise to trust his out of his shell. In the first 
 conference which Philip and he had about peace, 
 Philip taking occasion to say, “ Titus, you come 
 with a numerous retinue, whereas I come quite 
 alone : ” Flaminius answered, “ No wonder if you 
 come alone, for you have killed all your friends 
 and relations.” Dinocrates the Messenian being 
 in company at Rome, drank until he was intoxi- 
 cated, and then put on a woman’s habit, and 
 danced in that disguise. Next day he applied to 
 Flaminius, and begged his assistance in a design 
 which he had conceived, to withdraw Messene 
 from the Achaean league. Flaminius answered, 
 “I will consider of it; but I am surprised that 
 you, who conceive such great designs, can sing 
 and dance at a carousal.” And when the ambas- 
 sadors of Antiochus represented to the Achaeans 
 how numerous the king’s forces were, and, to 
 make them appear still more so, reckoned them 
 up by all their different names : “I supped once,” 
 said Flaminius, “with a friend; and upon my 
 complaining of the great number of dishes, and 
 expressing my wonder how he could furnish his 
 table with such a vast variety ; be not uneasy 
 about that, said my friend, for it is all hog’s flesh, 
 and the difference is only in the dressing and the 
 sauce. In like manner, I say to you, my Achaean 
 friends, be not astonished at the number of Antio- 
 chus’s forces, at these pikemen, these halberdiers 
 and cuirassiers ; for they are all Syrians, only 
 distinguished by the trifling arms they bear.” 
 
 After these great actions in Greece, and the. 
 conclusion of the war with Antiochus, Flaminius 
 was created Censor. This is the chief dignity in 
 the state, and the crown, as it were, of all its 
 honours. Fle had for colleague the son of Mar- 
 
 cellus, who had been five times Consul. They 
 expelled four senators who were men of no great 
 note : and they admitted as citizens all who 
 offered, provided that their parents were free. 
 But they were forced to this by Terentius Culeo, 
 a Tribune of the people, who, in opposition to 
 the nobility, procured such orders from the com- 
 mons. Two of the greatest and most powerful 
 men of those times, Scipio Africanus and Marcus 
 Cato,^ were then at variance with each other. 
 Flaminius appointed the former of these presi- 
 dent of the senate, as the first and best man in 
 the^ commonwealth; and with the latter he 
 entirely broke, on the following unhappy occa- 
 sion. Titus had a brother named Lucius Quinc- 
 tius Flaminius, unlike him in all respects, but 
 quite abandoned in his pleasures, and regardless 
 of decorum. This Lucius had a favourite boy 
 whom he carried with him, even when he com- 
 manded armies and governed provinces. One 
 day, as they were drinking, the boy, making his 
 court to Lucius, said, “ I love you so tenderly, 
 that preferring your satisfaction to my own, I left 
 a show of gladiators, to come to you, though I 
 have never seen a man killed.” Lucius, de- 
 lighted with the flattery, made answer, “ If that 
 be all, you need not be in the least uneasy, for 
 I shall soon satisfy your longing.” He imme- 
 diately ordered a convict to be brought from the 
 prison, and having sent for one of his lictors, 
 commanded him to strike off the man’s head, in 
 the room where they were carousing. Valerius 
 Antias writes, that this was done to gratify a 
 mistress. And Livy relates, from Cato’s writ- 
 ings, that a Gaulish deserter being at the door 
 with his wife and children, Lucius took him into 
 the banqueting-pom, and killed him with his 
 own hand : but it is probable, that Cato said this 
 to aggravate the charge. For that the person 
 killed was not a deserter, but a prisoner, and a 
 condemned one too, appears from many writers, 
 and particularly from Cicero, in his Treatise on 
 Old Age, where he introduces Cato himself 
 giving that account of the matter. 
 
 Upon this account, Cato, when he was Censor, 
 and set himself to remove all obnoxious persons 
 from the senate, expelled Lucius, though he was 
 of Consular dignity. His brother thought this 
 proceeding reflected dishonour upon himself ; 
 and they both went into the assembly in the form 
 of suppliants, and besought the people with 
 tears, that Cato might be obliged to assign his 
 reason for fixing such a mark of disgrace upon 
 so illustrious a family. The request appeared 
 reasonable. Cato without the least hesitation 
 pme out, and standing up with his colleague, 
 interrogated Titus, whether he knew anything of 
 that feast. Titus answering in the negative, 
 Cato related the affair, and called upon Lucius to 
 declare upon oath, whether it was not true. As 
 Lucius made no reply, the people determined the 
 note of infamy to be just, and conducted Cato 
 home with great honour, from the tribunal. 
 
 Titus, greatly concerned at his brother’s mis- 
 fortune, leagued with the inveterate enemies of 
 Cato, and gaining a majority in the. senate, 
 quashed and annulled- all the contracts, leases, 
 and bargains which Cato had made, relating to 
 the public revenues ; and stirred up many and 
 violent prosecutions against him. But I know 
 not whether he acted well, or agreeably to good 
 policy, in thus becoming a mortal enemy to a 
 
TITUS QUINCTIUS FLAMINIUS. 271 
 
 man who had only done what became a lawful 
 magistrate and a good_ citizen, for the sake of 
 one who was a relation indeed, but an unworthy 
 one, and who had met with the punishment he 
 deserved. Some time after, however, the people 
 being assembled in the theatres to see the shows, 
 and the senate seated, according to custom, in 
 the most honourable place, Lucius was observed 
 to go in an humble and dejected manner, and sit 
 down upon one of the lowest benches. The 
 people could not bear to see this, but called out 
 to him to go up higher, and ceased not until he 
 went to the Consular bench, who made room for 
 him. 
 
 The native ambition of Flaminius was ap- 
 plauded, while it found sufficient matter to 
 employ itself upon in the wars we have given 
 account- of. And his serving in the army as a 
 Tribune, after he had been Consul, was regarded 
 with a favourable eye, though no one required it 
 of him. But when he was arrived at an age that 
 excused him from all employments, he was 
 blamed for indulging a violent passion for fame, 
 and a youthful impetuosity in that inactive 
 season of life. To some excess of this kind 
 seems to have been owing his behaviour with 
 respect to Hannibal,* at which the world was 
 much offended. For Hannibal having fled his 
 country, took refuge first at the court of Anti- 
 ochus. But Antiochus, after he had lost the 
 battle of Phr^’-gia, gladly accepting conditions of 
 peace, Hannibal was again forced to fly ; and, 
 after wandering through many countries, at 
 length settled in Bithynia, and put himself under 
 the protection of Prusias. The Romans knew 
 this perfectly well, but they took no notice of it, 
 considering him now as a man enfeebled by age, 
 and overthrown by fortune. But Flaminius, 
 being sent by the senate upon an embassy to 
 Prusias about other matters, and seeing Hanni- 
 bal at his court, could not endure that he should 
 be suffered to live. And though Prusias used 
 much intercession and entreaty in behalf of a 
 man who came to him as a suppliant, and lived 
 . with him under the sanction of hospitality, he 
 could not prevail. 
 
 It seems there was an ancient oracle, which 
 thus prophesied concerning the end of Hanni- 
 bal — 
 
 Libyssan earth shall hide the bones of Hannibal. 
 
 _He therefore thought of nothing but ending 
 his days at Carthage, and being buried in Libya. 
 But in Bithynia there is a sandy place near the 
 sea, which has a small village in it called Libyssa. 
 In_ this neighbourhood Hannibal lived. But 
 haHng always been apprized of the timidity pf 
 Prusias, and distrusting him on that account. 
 
 and dreading withal the attempts of the Romans, 
 he had some time before ordered several subter- 
 raneous passages to be dug under his house; 
 which were continued a great way under ground, 
 and terminated in several different places, but 
 were all undiscernible without. As soon as he 
 was informed of the orders which Flaminius had 
 given, he attempted to make his escape by those 
 passages : but finding the king’s guards at the 
 outlets, he resolved to kill himself. Some say, 
 he wound his cloak about his neck, and ordered 
 his servant to put his knees upon his back, and 
 pull with all his force, and not to leave twisting 
 tiil he had quite strangled him. Others tell us, 
 that, like Themistocles and Midas, he drank 
 bull’s blood. But Livy writes, that having 
 poison in readiness, he mixed it for a draught ; 
 and taking the cup in his hand, “ Let us deliver 
 the Romans,” said he, “from their cares and 
 anxieties, since they think it too tedious and 
 dangerous to wait for the death of a poor hated 
 old man. Yet shall not Titus gain a conquest 
 worth envying, or suitable to the generous pro- 
 ceedings of his ancestors, who sent to caution 
 Pyrrhus, though a victorious enemy, against the 
 poison that was prepared for him.” 
 
 Thus Hannibal is said to have died. When 
 the news was brought to the senate, many in 
 that august body were highly displeased. Fla- 
 minius appeared too officious and cruel in his 
 precautions, to procure the- death of Hannibal, 
 now tamed by his misfortunes, like a bird that 
 through age had lost its tail and feathers, and 
 suffered to live so. And as he had no orders to 
 put him to death, it was plain that he did it out 
 of a passion for fame, and to be mentioned in 
 aftertimes as the destroyer of Hannibal.* On 
 this occasion they recollected and admired more 
 than ever, the humane and generous behaviour 
 of Scipio Africanus ; for when he had vanquished 
 Hannibal in Africa, at a time when he was ex- 
 tremely _ formidable, and deemed invincible, he 
 neither insisted on his banishment, nor demanded 
 him of his fellow-citizens : but, as he had em- 
 braced him at the conference which he had witli 
 him before the battle ; so, after it, when he 
 settled the conditions of peace, he offered not the 
 least affront or insult to his misfortunes. 
 
 It is reported that they met again at Ephesus, 
 and Flannibal, as they walked together, taking 
 the upper hand, Africanus suffered it, and walked 
 on without the least concern. Afterwards they 
 fell into conversation about great generals, and 
 Hannibal asserted that Alexander was the 
 greatest general the world had ever seen, that 
 Pyrrhus was the second, and himself the third. 
 Scipio smiled at this, and said, “ But what rank 
 would you have placed yourself in, if I had not 
 conquered you?” “ O, Scipio ! ” said he, “then 
 I would not have placed myself the third, but the 
 first.” 
 
 The generality admiring this moderation of 
 Scipio, found the greater fault with Flaminius 
 for taking the spoils of an enemy, whom another 
 man had slain. There were some indeed, who 
 
 * Flaminius was no more than forty-four years 
 of age, when he went ambassador to Prusias. It 
 was not therefore an unseasonable desire of a 
 public character, or extravagant passion for fame, 
 which was blamed in him on this occasion, but 
 an unworthy persecution of a great, though un- 
 fortunate man. We are inclined however to 
 think, that he had secret instructions from the 
 senate for what he did : for it is not probable 
 that a man of his mild and humane disposition 
 would choose to hunt down an old unhappy 
 warrior ; and Plutarch confirms this opinion after- 
 wards. 
 
 * If this was really the motive of Flaminius, 
 and nothing of a political tendency entered into 
 this dastardly destruction of that great general, 
 it would hardly be possible for all the virtues, all 
 the triumphs of the Roman, to redeem him from 
 the infamy of so base an action. 
 
272 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES, 
 
 applauded the thing, and observed that while 
 Hannibal lived, they must have looked upon him 
 as a fire, which wanted only to be blown into a 
 flame. That when he was in the vigour of his 
 age, it was not his bodily strength or his right 
 hand which was so dreadful to the Romans, but 
 his capacity and experience, together with his 
 innate rancour and hatred to their name. And 
 that these are not altered by age ; for the native 
 disposition still overrules the manners ; whereas 
 fortune, far from remaining the same, changes 
 continually, and by new hopes invites those to 
 new enterprises who were ever at war with us in 
 their hearts. And the subsequent events con- 
 tributed still more to the justification of Fla- 
 minius. For, in the first place, Aristonicus, the 
 son of a harper’s daughter, on the strength of 
 his being reputed the natural son of Eumenes, 
 filled all Asia with tumult and rebellion : and in 
 the next place, Mithridates, after such strokes as 
 he had met with from Sylla and Fimbria, and so 
 terrible a destruction among his troops and 
 officers, rose up stronger than ever against 
 
 Lucullus, both by sea and land. Indeed, Han- 
 nibal was never brought so low as Caius Marius 
 had been. For Hannibal enjoyed the friendship 
 of a king, from whom he received liberal sup- 
 plies, and with whose officers, both in the navy 
 and army, he had important connections ; where- 
 as Marius was a wanderer in Africa, and forced 
 to beg his bread. But the Romans, who had 
 laughed at Ins fall, soon alter bled, in their own 
 streets, under his rods and axes, and prostrated 
 themselves before him. So true it is, that there 
 is nothing either great or little, at this moment, 
 which is sure to hold so in the- days to come ; 
 and that the changes we have to experience only 
 determine with our lives. For this reason, some 
 tell us, that Flaminius did not do this of himself, 
 but that he was joined in commission with Lucius 
 Scipio, and that the sole purpose of their embassy 
 was to procure the death of Hannibal. ' As we 
 have no account after this, of any political or 
 rnilitary act of Flaminius, and only know that he 
 died in his bed, it is time to come to the com- 
 parison. 
 
 FLAMINIUS AND PHILOPCEMEN COMPARED. 
 
 If we consider the extensive benefits which 
 Greece received from Flaminius, we shall find 
 that neither Philopoemen, nor other Grecians 
 more illustrious than Fhilopoemen, will stand the 
 comparison with him. For the Greeks always 
 fought against Greeks ; but Flaminius, who was 
 not of Greece, fought for that country. And at 
 a time when Philopoemen, unable to defend his 
 fellow-citizens who were engaged in a dangerous 
 war, passed over into Crete, Flaminius having 
 vanquished Philip in the heart of Greece, set 
 cities and whole nations free. If we examine 
 into their battles, it will appear, that Philopoemen, 
 while he commanded the Achaean forces, killed 
 more Greeks, than Flaminius, in asserting the 
 Grecian cause, killed Macedonians. 
 
 As to their failings, ambition was the fault of 
 Flaminius, and obstinacy that of Philopoemen. 
 The former was passionate and the latter implac- 
 able. Flaminius left Philip in his royal dignity, 
 and pardoned the .lEtolians ; whereas Philopoe- 
 men, in his resentment against his country, robbed 
 her of several of her dependencies. Besides, 
 Flaminius was always a firm friend to those 
 whom he had once served ; but Philopoemen was 
 ever ready to destroy the merit of his former 
 kindnesses, only to indulge his anger. For he 
 had been a great benefactor to the Lacedae- 
 monians ; yet afterwards he demolished their 
 walls, and ravaged their country ; and in the 
 end entirely changed and overturned their con- 
 stitution. Nay he seems to have sacrificed his 
 life to his passion and perverseness, by too hastily 
 and unseasonably invading Messenia ; instead of 
 taking, like Flaminius, every precaution for his 
 own security and that of his troops. 
 
 But Philopoemen’s military knowledge and ex- 
 perience was perfected by his many wars and 
 victories. And, whereas Flaminius decided his 
 dispute with Philip in two engagements ; Philopoe- 
 men, by conquering in an incredible number 
 of battles, left fortune no room to question his 
 skill. 
 
 Flaminius, moreover, availed himself of the 
 power of a great and flourishing commonwealth, 
 and raised himself by its strength ; but Philopoe- 
 men distinguished himself at a time when his 
 country was upon the decline. So that the 
 success of the one is to be ascribed solely to him- 
 self, and that of the other to all the Romans. 
 The one had good troops to command ; and the 
 other made those so which he commanded. And 
 though the great actions of Philopoemen, being 
 performed against Grecians, do not prove him a 
 fortunate man, yet they prove him a brave man. 
 For, where ail other things are equal, great suc- 
 cess must be owing to superior excellence. He 
 had to do with two of the most warlike nations 
 among the Greeks ; the Cretans, who were the 
 most artful ; and the Lacedaemonians, who were 
 the most valiant ; and yet he mastered the former 
 .by policy, and the latter by courage. Add to 
 this, that Flaminius had his men ready armed 
 and disciplined to his hand ; whereas Philopoe- 
 men had the armour of his to alter, and to new- 
 model their discipline. So that the things which 
 contribute most to victory were the invention of 
 the one, while the other only practised what was 
 already in use. Accordingly Philopcemen’s per- 
 sonal exploits were many and great ; but we find 
 nothing of that kind remarkable in Flaminius. 
 On the contrarjq a certain iEtolian said, by way 
 of raillery, “ Whilst I ran, with my drawn sword, 
 to charge the Macedonians, who stood firm and 
 continued fighting, Titus was standing still, with 
 his hands lifted up towards heaven, and pray- 
 ing.’* 
 
 It is true, all the acts of Flaminius were 
 glorious, while he was general, and during his 
 lieutenancy too ; but Philopoemen showed himself 
 no less serviceable and active among the Achseans, 
 when in a private capacity, than when he had the 
 command. For, when commander in chief, he 
 drove Nabis out of the city of Messene, and 
 restored the inhabitants to_ their liberty ; but he 
 was only in a private station when he shut the 
 
I 
 
 PYRRHUS, 
 
 gates of Sparta against the general Diophanes, 
 and against Flaminius, and by that means s ved 
 the Lacedaemonians. Indeed, nature had given 
 him such talents for command, that he knew not 
 only how to govern according to the laws, but 
 how to govern the laws themselves, when the 
 public good required it; not waiting for the 
 formality of the people’s appointing him, but 
 rather employing them, when the occasion de- 
 manded it. For he was persuaded, that, not he 
 whom the people elect, but he who thinks best 
 for the people, is the true general. 
 
 There was undoubtedly something great and 
 
 273 
 
 generous in the clemency and humanity of Flami- 
 nius towards the Grecians ; but there was some- 
 thing still greater and more generous in the 
 resolution which Philopoemen showed in main- 
 taining the liberties of Greece against the Romans. 
 For It is a much easier matter to be liberal to the 
 weak, than to oppose and to support a dispute 
 with the strong. Since, therefore, after all our 
 inquiry into the characters of these two great 
 men, the superiority is n6t obvious, perhaps we 
 shall not greatly err, if we give the Grecian the 
 palm of generalship and military skill, and the 
 Roman that of justice and humanity. 
 
 PYRRHUS. 
 
 Some historians write, that Phaeton was the first 
 king after the deluge who reigned over the Thes- 
 protians and Molossians, and that he was one of 
 ^ose who came with Pelasgus into Epirus. 
 Others say, that Deucalion and Pyrrha, after 
 they had built the temple of Dodona,* settled 
 among the Molossians. In after times, Neop- 
 tolemus,! the son of Achilles, taking his people 
 with him, possessed himself of the country, and 
 left a succession of kings after him, called Pyrr~ 
 hid(e ; for in his infancy he was called Pyrrhus ; 
 and he gave that name to one of his legitimate 
 ^ns whom he had by Lanassa the daughter of 
 Cleodes son of Hyllus. From that time Achilles 
 had divine honours in Epirus, being styled there 
 Aspetos (i.e. the Inimitable), After these first 
 kings, those that followed became entirely bar- 
 barous, and both their power and their actions 
 sunk into the utmost obscurity. Tharrytas is the 
 first whom history mentions as remarkable for 
 polishing and improving his cities with Grecian 
 customs,! with letters and good laws. Alcetas 
 A Tharrytas, Arybas of Alcetas ; and 
 
 m Arybas and Troias his queen was born iEacides. 
 He married Phthia, the daughter of Menon the 
 Ihessahan, who acquired great reputation in the 
 Lamian war, and, next to Leosthenes, was the 
 most considerable of the confederates. By Phthia, 
 ^acides had two daughters named Deidamia and 
 Troias, and a son named Pyrrhus. 
 
 But the Molossians, rising against ^Eacides, 
 deposed him, and brought in the sons of Neop- 
 tolemus. § On this occasion the friends of ^acides 
 were taken and slain : only Androclides and Ange- 
 las escaped with his infant son, though he was 
 much sought after by his enemies ; and carried 
 him ofl^ith his nurses and a few necessary attend- 
 ants. This train rendered their flight difficult and 
 slow, so that they were soon overtaken. In this ex- 
 tremitj^hey put the child in the hands of Andro- 
 cleon, Hippias, and Neander, three active young 
 men whom they could depend upon, and ordered 
 them to make the best of their way to iVIegarce, 
 
 * Probably it was only a druidical kind of 
 temple. 
 
 t Between Deucalion’s flood and the times of 
 iNeoptolemus, there was a space of about ^40 
 years. 
 
 ! Justin does not ascribe the civilizing of the 
 Molossians to Tharrytas, but to Arybas, the son 
 ot Alcetas I. who had himself been polished and 
 by his education at Athens. 
 
 S J his IS eoptolemus was the brother of Arybas. 
 
 a town in Macedonia ; while they themselves, 
 partly by entreaty, and partly by force, stopped 
 the course of the pursuers till evening; when, 
 having with much difficulty got clear of them| 
 they hastened to join those who carried the young 
 prince. At sunset they thought themselves near 
 the summit of their hopes, but they met with a 
 sudden disappointment. When they came to the 
 river that runs by the town, it looked rough and 
 dreadful ; and upon trial, they found it absolutely 
 unfordable. For the current being swelled by 
 the late rains, was very high and boisterous, and 
 darkness added to the horror. They now de- 
 spaired of getting the child and his nurses over, 
 without some other assistance ; when perceiving 
 some of the inhabitants of the place on the other 
 side, they begged of them to assist their passage, 
 and held up Pyrrhus towards them. But though 
 they called out loud and entreated earnestly, the 
 stream ran so rapid and made such a roaring, 
 that they could not be heard. Some time was 
 spent, while they were crying out on one side, 
 and listening to no purpose on the other. At last 
 one of Pyrrhus’s company thought of peeling off 
 a piece of oak bark, and of expressing upon it, 
 with the tongue of a buckle, the necessities and 
 fortunes of the child. Accordingly he put this in 
 execution, and having rolled the piece of bark 
 about a stone, which was made use of to give 
 force to the motion, he threw it on the other side. 
 Some say, he bound it fast to a javelin, and 
 darted it over. When the people on the other 
 side had read it, and saw there was not a moment 
 to lose, they cut down trees, and made a raft of 
 them, and crossed the river upon it. It happened 
 that the first man who reached the bank, was 
 named Achilles. He took Pyrrhus in his arms, 
 and conveyed him over, while his companions 
 performed the same service for his followers. 
 
 Pyrrhus and his train, having thus got safe over, 
 and escaped the pursuers, continued their routed 
 till they arrived at the court of Glaucias king of 
 Illyria. They found the king sitting in his palace 
 with the queen his consort,* and laid the child at 
 his feet in the posture of a suppliant. The king, 
 who stood in fear of Cassander, the enemy of 
 .^acides, remained a long time silent, considering 
 what part he should act. While Pyrrhus, of his 
 own accord creeping closer to him, took hold of 
 
 ' Justin calls this princess Beroa, and says she 
 was of the family of the ^Eacidae; which must 
 have been the reason of their seeking refuge for 
 Pyrrhus in that court. 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 his robe, and raising himself up to his knees, by 
 this action first excited a smile, and afterwards 
 compassion ; for he thought he saw a petitioner 
 before him begging his protection with tears. 
 Some say, it was not Glaucias, but the altar of 
 the domestic gods which he approached, and that 
 he raised himself by embracing it ; from which it 
 appeared to Glaucias that heaven interested itself 
 in the infant’s favour. For this reason he put 
 him immediately in the hands of the queen, and 
 ordered her to bring him up with his own children. 
 His enemies demanding him soon after, and Cas- 
 sander offering 200 talents to have him delivered 
 up, Glaucias refused to do it ; and when he came 
 to be twelve years old, conducted him into Epirus 
 at the head of an army, and placed him upon the 
 throne. ^ , 
 
 Pyrrhus had an air of majesty rather terrible 
 than august. Instead of teeth in his upper jaw 
 he had one continued bone, marked with small 
 lines resembling the divisions of a row of teeth. 
 It was believed, that he cured the swelling of the 
 spleen, by sacrificing a white cock, and with his 
 right foot gently pressing the part affected, the 
 patients lying upon their backs for that purpose. 
 There was no person, however poor or mean, 
 refused this relief, if requested. He received no 
 reward, except the cock for sacrifice, and this 
 present was very agreeable to him. It is also 
 said, that the great toe of that foot had a 
 divine virtue in it; for, after his death, when 
 the rest of his body was consumed, that toe was 
 found entire and untouched by the flames. But 
 this account belongs not to the period we are 
 upon. - 
 
 When he was about seventeen years of age, 
 and seemed to be quite established in his king- 
 dom, he haopened to be called out of his own 
 territories, to attend the nuptials of one of Glau- 
 cias’s sons, with whom he had been educated. 
 On this occasion the Molossians revolting again, 
 drove out his friends, pillaged his treasures, and 
 put themselves once more under Neoptolemus. 
 Pyrrhus having thus lost the crown, and being in 
 want of everything, applied himself to Demetrius, 
 the son of Antigonus, who had married his sister 
 Deidamia. That princess, when very young 
 had been promised to Alexander the son of 
 Roxana (by Alexander the Great); but that 
 family being unfortunately cut off, she was given, 
 when she came to be marriageable, to Demetrius. 
 In the great battle of Ipsus, where all the kings 
 of the earth were engaged,* Pyrrhus accompanied 
 Demetrius; and, though but young, bore down 
 all before him, and highly distinguished himself 
 among the combatants. Nor did he forsake De- 
 metrius, when unsuccessful, but kept for him 
 those cities of Greece with which he was en- 
 trusted : and when the treaty was concluded with 
 Ptolemy, he went to Egypt as an hostage, i here, 
 both in hunting and other exercises he gave 
 Ptolemy proofs of his strength and indefatigable 
 abilities. Observing, that among Ptolemy s wives, 
 Berenice was she who had the greatest power, 
 and was most eminent for virtue and understand- 
 ing, he attached himself most to her. ror he 
 
 had a particular art of making his court to the 
 great, while he overlooked those that were below 
 him. And as in his whole conduct he paid great 
 attention to decency, temperance, and prudence, 
 Antigone, who was daughter to Berenice by her 
 first husband Philip, was given him, in prefer- 
 ence to many other young princes. 
 
 On this account he was held in greater honour 
 than ever: and Antigone proving an excellent 
 wife, procured him men and money, which en- 
 abled him to recover his kingdom of Epirus. 
 At his arrival there, his subjects received him 
 with open arms ; for Neoptolemus was become 
 obnoxious to the people, by reason of his arbi- 
 trary and tyrannical government. Nevertheless, 
 Pyrrhus, apprehending that Neoptolemus might 
 have recourse to some of the other kings, came 
 to an agreement with him, and associated him 
 in the kingdom. But in process of time there 
 were some who privately sowed dissension and 
 jealousies between them. Pyrrhus’s chief quarrel 
 . with Neoptolemus is said to have taken its rise as 
 follows. It had been a custom for the kings of 
 Epirus to hold an assembly at Passaron, a place 
 in the province of the Molossians ; where, after 
 sacrificing to Jupiter the warrior, mutual oaths 
 were taken by them and their subjects. The 
 kings were sworn to govern according to laiv, 
 and the people, to defejid the crown accoraing 
 to law. Both the kings met on this occasion, 
 attended by their friends, and after the ceremony, 
 great presents were made on all sides. Gelon, 
 who was very cordially attached to Neoptolemus, 
 among the rest, paid his respects to Pyrrhus, and 
 made him a present of two yoke of oxen.* Myr- 
 tiius, one of this prince’s cupbearers, begged them 
 of him ; but Pyrrhus refused him, and gaye them 
 to another. Gelon perceiving that Myrtilus took 
 the disappointment extremely ill, invited him to 
 sup with him. After supper he solicited him 
 to embrace the interest of Neoptolemus, and to 
 poison Pyrrhus. Myrtilus seemed to listen to 
 his suggestions with satisfaction, but discovered 
 the whole to his master. Then, by his order, he 
 introduced to Gelon, the chief cupbearer Alexi- 
 crates, as a person who was willing to enter into 
 the conspiracy ; for Pyrrhus was desirous to have 
 more than one witness to so black an enterprise. 
 Gelon being thus deceived, Neoptolemus was 
 deceived with him; and thinking the affair in 
 great forwardness, could not contain himself, but 
 in the excess of his joy mentioned it to Ms friend^ 
 One evening, in particular, being at snpper with 
 his sister Cadmia, he discovered the whole design, 
 thinking nobody else within hearing. And in- 
 deed there was none in the room but Phaenarete 
 the wife of Samon, chief keeper of Neoptolemus s 
 cattle ; and she laid upon a couch with her face 
 turned towards the wall, and seemed to be asleep. 
 She heard, however, the whole without being 
 suspected, and went the next day to Antigone 
 the wife of Pyrrhus, and related to her all that 
 she had heard Neoptolemus say W his sister. 
 This was immediately laid before Pyrrhus, who 
 took no notice of it for the present. But, on 
 occasion of a solemn sacrifice, he invited Neop- 
 tolemus to supper, and took that opportunity to 
 kill him. For he was well assured that all the 
 leading men in Epirus were strongly attached 
 
 * He says all the kings of the eanh were 
 engaged, because Lysimachus, Seleucus, Ptolemy, 
 Cassander, Antigonus, and Demetrius were there 
 in person. This battle was fought about 30a 
 years before Christ. 
 
 , * This present was characteristical of the 
 
 simplicity of ancient times. 
 
PYRRHUS. 
 
 to him, and wanted him to remove Neoptolemus 
 out of the way ; that, no longer satisfied with a 
 small share of the kingdom, he might possess 
 himself of the whole : and by following his genius, 
 rise to great attempts. And, as they had now a 
 strong suspicion besides, that Neoptolemus was 
 practising against him, they thought this was 
 the time to prevent him by gi%dng him the fatal 
 blow. 
 
 In acknowledgment of the obligations he had 
 to Berenice and Ptolemy, he named his son by 
 Antigone Ptole 7 uy, and called the city which he 
 built in the Chersonese of Epirus, Berenicis. 
 From this time he began to conceive many great 
 designs, but his first hopes laid hold of ail that 
 was near home : and he found a plausible pre- 
 tence to concern himself in the affairs of Mace- 
 donia. Annpater, the eldest son of Cassander, 
 had killed his mother Thessalonica, and expelled 
 his brother Alexander. Alexander sent to Deme- 
 trius for succour, and implored likewise the 
 assistance of PjTrhus. Demetrius, having many 
 affairs ujwn his hands, could not presently com- 
 ply : but Pjnrhus came and demanded, as the 
 rew'ard of his ser\nces, the city of N^unphaea.* 
 
 , and ail the maritime coast of Macedonia, to- 
 gether with Ambracia, Acamania, and Amphi- 
 I iocia, wMch were some of the coimtries that did 
 • not originally belong to the kingdom of Macedon. 
 
 The young prince agreeing to the conditions, 
 i PjTrrhus possessed himself of these countries, and 
 secured them wdth his garrisons ; after which he 
 w^ent on conquering the rest for Alexander, and 
 ■ driving Antipater before him. 
 
 King Lysimachus w^as well inclined to give 
 : Antipater assistance, but he was so much engaged 
 ! with his owm affairs, that he could not find time 
 I for it. Recollecting, however, that Pyrrhus 
 would refuse nothing to his friend Ptolemy, he 
 forged letters in Ptolemy’s name, enjoining him 
 I to evacuate Macedonia, and to be satisfied wuth 
 i 300 talents from Antipater. But P^-rrhus no 
 I sooner opened the letters than he perceived the 
 forgery-. For instead of the customary saluta- 
 I tion, “The father to his son greetine,” they 
 began w-iA “ King Ptolemy to King f^*rrhus, 
 greeting.” He inveighed against Lysimachus 
 for the fraud, but listened, notwithstanding, to 
 proposals of peace ; and the three .princes met 
 to offer sacrifices on the occasion, and to sw'ear 
 upon the altar to the articles. A boar, a bull, 
 ^d a ram being led up as victims, the ram 
 dropped dowm dead of himself. The rest of the 
 company laughed at the accident ; but Theodo- 
 tus the di\*iner advised P^urhus not to swear 
 declaring that the deity presignified the death of 
 one of the kings ; upon which he refused to ratify 
 the peace. •' 
 
 Alexander’s affairs w-ere thus advantageously 
 settled ; f nevertheless Demetrius came. But it 
 ^ ^ppeared that he came now- unrequested, 
 and that his presence excited rather fear than 
 
 275 
 
 Dacier thinks Aixillonia might be called 
 ^jmiphaea from Nymphaeum, a celebrated rock 
 m us neighbourhood. Palmerius would read 
 lymphaea; that being the name of a town in 
 
 m the Taurica Chersonesus, but that could not be 
 meant here. 
 
 t Alexander w-as murdered soon after. 
 
 gratitude. When they had been a few* days to- 
 gether, in mutual distrust they laid snares for 
 each other ; but Demetrius finding the first oppor- 
 tumty, was beforehand with Alexander, killed 
 him, and got himself proclaimed king of Macedon. 
 
 ^ He had for a long time had subjects of com- 
 plaint against Pyrrhus, on accoimt of the inroads 
 w hich he had made into Thessaly. Besides, that 
 ambition to extend their dominions, w*hich is a 
 distemper natural to kings, rendered their neigh- 
 bourhood mutually alarming. These jealousies 
 mcreased after the death of "Deidamia. At last, 
 each ha\*mg possessed himself of part of Mace- 
 donia, and having one object in view, the gaining 
 of the whole, this produced of course new causes 
 of contention. Demetrius marched against ^e 
 .^toiians and reduced them. After w-hich he left 
 Pantauchus among- them with a considerable 
 force, and w-ent himseff to seek P5Trhus. Pj-rrhus, 
 as soon as he was apprised of his design, went to 
 meet him ; but taking a w-rong route, they inad- 
 vertently passed each other. Demetrius entered 
 Epirus, and _ committed great ravages ; and 
 P3Trhus, falling in writh Pentauchus, gave him 
 battle. The dispute was warm and obstinate on 
 both sides, especially w-here the generals fought. 
 For Pantauchus, w*ho in dexterity, courage, and 
 strength, stood foremost among the offcers of 
 Demetrius, and withal w'as a man of a high and 
 ambitious spirit, challenged Pj-rrhus to the com- 
 bat. And Pj-rrhus, w ho w'as behind none of the 
 princes of his time in valour and renowm, and 
 who W'as desirous to appropriate to himself the 
 honours of Achilles, rather by his sword than bv 
 kindred, advanced through the first lines agains't 
 Pantauchus. Thej- began w'ith the javehn ; and 
 then commg to the sw-ord, exhausted all that art 
 or strength could supply-. Pj-irhus received one 
 wound, and gave his adversary- two, one in the 
 tnigh, and the other in the neck ; by which he 
 overpowered him, and brought him to the ground ; 
 but could not kill him outright, because he was 
 rescued by Ins friends. The Epirots, elated with 
 their prince’s rictoiyy and admiring his valour, 
 broke into and dispersed the ^lacedonian phalanx, 
 and pursuing the fugitives, killed great numbers 
 of them, and took 5000 prisoners. 
 
 This battle did not so much e.xcite the resent- 
 ment and hatred of the ^lacedonians against 
 Pturhus for what they suffered, as it inspired 
 them W'ith an esteem of his abihties and admira- 
 tion of his vMour. This furnished subject of dis- 
 course to ail those who were witnesses of ^ 
 e.xploits, or were engaged against him in the 
 action. For he recalled to their minds the coun- 
 tenance, the swiftness, and motion of JUe.xander 
 the Great ; in P\*rrhus they thought they saw the 
 very- image of hiis force and impetuosity. And 
 while the other kings represented that hero only 
 in their purple robes, in the number of guards, 
 the bend of the neck, and the lofty manner of 
 speaking, the king of Epirus represented him in 
 deeds of arms and personal achievements. And 
 of his great skill in orde^g and drawing up an 
 army-, we have proofs in the w-ritings he left 
 behind him. It is also said, that Antigonus beii^g 
 asked who w-as the greatest general ? answ-ered, 
 
 “ P^-rrhus w'ould be, if he hved to be old.” An- 
 tigonus, indeed, spoke only of the generals of his 
 time : but Hannibal said that, of all the world 
 had ever beheld, the first in genius and skill was 
 Py-rrhus, Scipio the second, and himself the 
 
276 
 
 PLUTARCirS LIVES, 
 
 third : as we have written in the life of Scipio. * 
 This was the only science he applied himself to ; 
 this was the subject of his thoughts and conversa- 
 tion : for he considered it as a royal study, and 
 looked upon other arts as mere trifling amuse- 
 ments. And it is reported that when he was 
 asked whether he thought Python or Csephisias 
 the best musician? “ Polysperchon,” said he, 
 “is the general;” intimating that this was the 
 only point which it became a king to inquire into 
 or know. 
 
 In the intercourse of life he was mild and not 
 easily provoked, but ardent and quick to repay a 
 kindness. For this reason he was greatly afflicted 
 at the death of ^Eropus. His friend, he said, 
 had only paid the tribute to nature, but he 
 blamed and reproached himself for putting off his 
 acknowledgments till, by these delays, he had 
 lost the opportunity of making any return. _ For 
 those that owe money, can pay it to the heirs of 
 the deceased, but when a return of kindnesses is 
 not made to a person in his lifetime, it grieves the 
 heart that has any goodness and honour in it. 
 When some advised him to banish a certain ill- 
 tongued Arnbracian, who abused hiin behind his 
 back, “ Let the fellow stay here,” said he, “ and 
 speak against me to a few, rather than ramble 
 about, and give me a bad character to all the 
 world.” And some young men having taken 
 great liberties with his character in their cups, 
 and being afterwards brought to answer for it, he 
 asked them whether they really had said such 
 things? “ We did, Sir,” answered one of them, 
 “ and should have said a great deal more, if we 
 had had more wine.” Upon which he laughed 
 and dismissed them. 
 
 After the death of Antigone, he married several 
 wives for the purposes of interest and power ; 
 namely, the daughter of Autoleon, king of the 
 Psonians ; Bircenna, the daughter of Bardyllis 
 king of the Illyrians ; and Lanassa, the daughter 
 of Agathocles of Syracuse, who brought him in 
 dowry the isle of Corcyra, which her father had 
 taken. By Antigone he had a son named 
 Ptolemy ; by Lanassa he had Alexander ; and by 
 Bircenna, his youngest son Helenus. All these 
 princes had naturally a turn for war, and he 
 quickened their martial ardour by giving them a 
 suitable education from their infancy. For it is 
 said, when he was asked by one of them, who 
 was yet a child, to which of them he would leave 
 his kingdom? he said, “To him who has the 
 sharpest sword.” This was very like that tragi- 
 cal legacy of QEdipus to his sons— 
 
 The sword’s keen point the inheritance shall 
 part, t 
 
 After the battle Pyrrhus returned home distin- 
 guished with glory, and still more elevated in his 
 sentiments. The Epirots having given him on 
 this occasion the name of Eagle, he said, “ If 
 am an eagle, you have made me one ; for it is 
 upon your arms, upon your wings, that I have 
 risen so high.” 
 
 Soon after, having intelligence that Demetrius 
 lay dangerously ill, he suddenly entered Mace- 
 
 donia,* intending only an inroad to pillage the 
 country. But he was very near seizing the 
 whole, and taking the kingdom without a blow. 
 For he pushed forward as far as Edessa without 
 meeting with any resistance ; on the contrary, 
 many of the inhabitants repaired to his camp and 
 joined him. The danger awaked Demetrius, 
 and made him act above his strength. His 
 friends and officers, too, quickly assembled a 
 good body of troops, and moved forward with 
 great spirit and vigour against Pyrrhus. But as 
 he came only with a design to plunder, he did 
 not stand to receive them. He lost, however, a 
 considerable number of men in his retreat, for the 
 Macedonians harassed his rear all the way. 
 
 Demetrius, though he had driven out Pyrrhus 
 with so much ease, was far from slighting and 
 despising him afterwards. But as he meditated 
 great things, and had determined to attempt the 
 recovery of his paternal kingdom, with an army 
 of 100,000 men, and 500 sail of ships, he thought 
 it not prudent either to embroil himself with 
 Pyrrhus, or to leave behind him so dangerous, 
 a neighbour. And as he was not at leisure to 
 continue the war with him, he concluded a peace 
 that he might turn his arms with more security 
 against the other kings.! The designs of Deme- 
 trius were soon discovered by tffis peace, and by 
 the greatness of his preparations. Tite kings 
 were alarmed, and sent ambassadors to Pyrrhus, 
 with letters, expressing" their astonishment that 
 he neglected his opportunity to make war upon 
 Demetrius. They represented with how much 
 ease he might dr.ve him out of Macedonia, thus 
 engaged as he was in many troublesome enter- 
 prises ; instead of which, he waited till Deme- 
 trius had despatched all his other affairs, and was 
 grown so much more powerful as to be able to 
 bring the war to his own doors, and to put hi m 
 under the necessity of fighting for the altars of 
 his gods and the sepulchres of his ancestors in 
 Molossia itself: and this too, when he hsd just 
 been deprived by Demetrius of the isle of Corcyra, 
 together with his wife. B or Lanassa having her 
 complaints against Pyrrhus, for paying more 
 attention to his other wives, though barbarians, 
 than to her, had retired to Corcyra ; and wanting 
 to marry another king, invited Demetrius to 
 receive her hand, knowing him to be more in- 
 clined to marriage than any of the neighbouring 
 princes. Accordingly he sailed to the island, 
 married Lanassa, and left a garrison in the city. 
 
 The kings, at the same time that they wrote 
 these letters to Pyrrhus, took the field themselves 
 to harass Demetrius, who delayed his expedition, 
 and continued his preparations. Ptolemy put to 
 sea with a great fleet, and drew off many of the 
 Grecian cities. Lysimachus entered the upper 
 Macedonia from Thrace, and ravaged the couritry. 
 And Pyrrhus taking up arms at the same time, 
 marched against Beroea, expecting that Deme- 
 trius would go to meet Lysimachus, and leave 
 the lower Macedonia unguarded : which fell out 
 accordingly. The night before ho set out, he 
 dreamed that Alexander the Great called him, 
 and that when he came to him, he found him sick 
 in bed, but was received with many obliging 
 
 * This is differently related in the life of Flam- 
 inius. There it is said that Hannibal placed 
 Alexander first, Pyrrhus second, and himself the 
 third. 
 
 f Phenissae Euripides, ver. 68. 
 
 * In the third year of the hundred and twenty- 
 third olympiad, two hundred and eighty-four 
 years before Christ. 
 
 t Seleucus, Ptolemy, and Lysimachus. 
 
PYRRHUS, 
 
 277 
 
 expressions of friendship, and a promise of sudden 
 assistance. Pyrrhus said, “How can you, sir, 
 who are sick, be able to assist me ? ” Alexander 
 answered, “ 1 will do it with my name : ” and, at 
 the same time, he mounted a Nisaean horse,* and 
 seemed to lead the way, 
 
 Pyrrhus, greatly encouraged by this vision, 
 advanced with the utmost expedition, and having 
 traversed the intermediate countries, came before 
 Beroea and took it. There he fixed his head 
 quarters, and reduced the other cities by his 
 generals. When Demetrius received intelligence 
 of this, and perceived, moreover, a spirit of mutiny 
 among the Macedonians in his camp, he was 
 afraid to proceed farther, lest, when they came in 
 sight of a Macedonian prince, and one of an 
 illustrious character too, they should revolt to 
 him. He, therefore, turned back, and led them 
 agmnst Pyrrhus, who was a stranger, and the 
 object of their hatred. Upon his encamping near 
 Beroea, many inhabitants of that place mixed 
 with his soldiers, and highly extolled Pyrrhus. 
 They represented him as a man invincible in 
 arms, of uncommon magnanimity, and one who 
 treated those who fell into his hands with great 
 gentleness and humanity. There were also some 
 of PjTrhus’s emissaries, who, pretending them- 
 selves Macedonians, obsen^ed to Demetiius’s 
 men, that then was the time to get free from his 
 cruel jmke, and to embrace the interests of Pyrr- 
 hus, who was a popular man and who loved a 
 soldier. After this, the greater part of the army 
 v/as in a ferment, and they cast their e 3 ^es around 
 for Pyrrhus. It happened that he was then 
 without his helmet ; but recollecting himself, he 
 soon put it on again, and was immediately’^ known 
 by his lofty plume and his crest of goat’s horns, t 
 Many of the Macedonians now ran to him, and 
 begged him to give them the word ; while others 
 crowned themselves with branches of oak, be- 
 cause they saw them worn by his men. Some 
 had even the confidence to tell Demetrius, that 
 the most prudent part he could take would 
 be to withdraw and lay down the government. 
 As he found the motions of the army agreeable 
 to this sort of discourse, he was terrified and 
 made off privately, disguised in a mean cloak, 
 and a common Macedonian hat. Pynrhus, upon 
 this, became master of the camp -without striking 
 a blow, and was proclaimed king of I\Iac^ 
 donia. 
 
 Lysimachus made his appearance soon after, 
 and, pretending that he had' contributed equally 
 to the flight of Demetrius, demanded his share of 
 the kingdom. Pyrrhus, as he thought himself 
 not sufficiently established among the Mace- 
 donians, but rather in a dubious situation, ac- 
 cepted the proposal ; and they diHded the cities 
 and provinces between them. This partition 
 seemed to be of service for the present, and pre- 
 vented their going directly to war; but soon after 
 they found it the beginning of perpetual com- 
 
 • Ni.ssea was a province near the Caspian Sea, 
 which Strabo tells us was famous for its breed of 
 horses. The kings of Persia used to provide 
 themselves there. Strabo, lib. xi. 
 
 ^ the Great is represented on his 
 
 medals with such a crest. The goat, indeed, %vas 
 the ^yni^l of the kingdom of Macedon. The 
 prophet Daniel uses it as such. The original of 
 that symbol may be found in Justin. 
 
 plaints and quarrels, instead of a perfect recon- 
 ciliation. For how is it possible that they whose 
 ambition is not to be terminated by seas and 
 mountains and uninhabitable deserts, whose 
 thirst of dominion is not to be confined by the 
 bounds that part Europe and Asia, should, when 
 so near each other, and joined in one lot, sit 
 down contented, and abstain from mutual injuries? 
 Undoubtedly they are always at war in their 
 hearts, having the seeds of perfidy and envy 
 there. As for the names of Peace and War, they 
 apply them occasionally, like monej^ to their 
 use, not to the purposes of justice. And they 
 act with much more probity when they profes- 
 sedly make war, than when they sanctify a short 
 truce and cession of mutual injuries, wdth the 
 names of justice and friendship. Pjorhus was a 
 proof of this. For opposing Demetrius again, 
 when his affairs began to be a little re-established, 
 and checking his power, which seemed to be re- 
 covering, as if it were from a great illness, he 
 marched to the assistance of the Grecians, and 
 \vent in person to Athens. He ascended into the 
 citadel, and sacrificed to the goddess ; a: ter which 
 he came dowm into the city the same day, and 
 thus addressed the people: “I think myself 
 happy in this testimony of the kind regard of the 
 Athenians, and of the confidence they put in me ; 
 1 advise them, however, as they tender their 
 safety, never to admit another king within their 
 w’ails, but to shut their gates against all that shall 
 desire it.” * 
 
 Soon after this he concluded a peace with De- 
 metrius : and 5 *et Demetrius was no sooner passed 
 into Asia, than Pyrrhus, at the instigation of 
 Lysimachus, drew off Thessal}’ from its allegiance, 
 ^d attacked his garrisons in Greece. He found, 
 indeed, the Macedonians better subjects in time 
 of war than in peace, besides that he himself was 
 more fit for action than repose. At last Deme- 
 trius being entireljr defeated in Syria, Lj’simachus, 
 w’ho had nothing to tear from that quarter, nor 
 any other affairs to engage him, immediately 
 turned his forces against Py^hus, who lay in 
 quarters at Edessa. Upon his arrival, he fell 
 upon one of the king’s convoys, and took it, by 
 which he greatly distressed his troops for want of 
 provisions. Besides this, he corrupted the prin- 
 cipal iSlacedonians by his letters and emissaries, 
 reproaching them for choosing for their sovereign 
 a stranger, whose ancestors had always been 
 subject to the Macedonians, while they expelled 
 the friends and companions of Alexander. As 
 the majority listened to these suggestions, Pyrr- 
 hus, fearing the event, withdrew with his Epi- 
 rots and auxiliary forces, and so lost Macedonia 
 in the same manner he had gained it. Kings, 
 therefore, have no reason to blame the people for 
 changing for interest, since in that they do but 
 imitate their masters, who are patterns of 
 treachery and perfidiousness, and who think that 
 man most capable of serv ing them, who pays the 
 least regard to honesty. 
 
 When Pj-rrhus had thus retired into Epirus, 
 and left Macedonia, he had a fair occasion given 
 him by fortune to enjoy himself in quiet, and to 
 govern his own kingdom in peace. But he was 
 irsuaded, that neither to annoy others, nor to 
 i annoyed by them, was a life insufferably 
 
 * The Athenians followed his advice, and drove 
 out Demetrius’s garrison. 
 
278 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 languishing and tedious. Like Achilles, he could 
 not endure inaction : 
 
 He pined in dull repose ; his heart indignant 
 Bade the scene change to war, to wounds, and 
 death. 
 
 His anxiety for fresh employment was relieved 
 as follows : The Romans were then at war with 
 the Tarentines. The latter were not able to 
 support the dispute, and yet the bold and turbu- 
 lent harangues of their leading men would not 
 suffer them to put an end to it. They resolved, 
 therefore, to call in Pyrrhus, and put their forces 
 under his command ; there being no other prince 
 who had then so much leisure, or was so able a 
 general. The oldest and most sensible of the 
 citizens opposed this measure, but were overborne 
 by the noise and violence of the multitude ; and 
 when they saw this, they no longer attended the 
 assemblies. But there was a worthy man named 
 Meton, who, on the day that the decree was to 
 be ratified, after the people had taken their seats, 
 came into the assembly, with an air of intoxica- 
 tion, having like persons in that condition, a 
 withered garland upon his head, a torch in his 
 hand, and a woman playing on the flute before 
 him. As no decorum can well be observed by a 
 crowd of people in a free state, some clapped their 
 hands, others laughed, but nobody pretended to 
 stop him. On the contrary, they called upon the 
 woman to play, and him to come_ forward and 
 sing. Silence being made, he said, “ Men of 
 Tarentum, ye do extremely well to suffer those 
 who have a mind to it, to play and be merry, 
 while they may : and, if you are wise, you will 
 all now enjoy the same liberty ; for you must 
 have other business and another kind of life, when 
 Pyrrhus once enters your city.’' This address 
 made a great impression upon the Tarentines, 
 and a whisper of assent ran through the assembly. 
 But some fearing that they should be delivered 
 up to the Romans, if peace were made, re- 
 proached the people with so tamely suffering 
 themselves to be made a jest of, and insulted by 
 a drunkard ; and then turning upon Meton, they 
 thrust him out. The decree thus being confirmed, 
 they sent ambassadors to Epirus, not only in the 
 name of the Tarentines, but of the other Greeks 
 in Italy, with presents to Pyrrhus, and orders to 
 tell him that they wanted a general of ability 
 and character. As for troops, he would find a 
 large supply of them upon the spot, from the 
 Lucanians, the Messapians, the Samnites, and 
 Tarentines, to the amount of 20,000 horse, and 
 350,000 foot. These promises not only elevated 
 Pyrrhus, but raised in the Epirots a strong incli- 
 nation to the war. 
 
 There was then at the court of Pyrrhus, a 
 Thessalian named Cineas, a man of sound sense, 
 and who having been a disciple of Demosthenes, 
 was the only orator of his time that presented his 
 hearers with a lively image of the force and .spirit 
 of that great master. This man had devoted him- 
 self to Pyrrhus, and in all the embassies he was 
 employed in, confirmed that saying of Euripides 
 The gates that steel exclude, resistless eloquence 
 shall enter. 
 
 This made Pyrrhus say, that Cineas had gained 
 him more cities by his address,^ than he h^^ 
 won by his arms : and he continued to heap 
 honours and employments upon _ him. Cineas 
 now seeing Pyrrhus intent upon his preparations 
 
 for Italy, took an opportunity, when he saw him 
 at leisure, to draw him into the following conver- 
 sation : “The Romans have the reputation of 
 being excellent soldiers, and have the command 
 of many warlike nations ; if it please Heaven that 
 we conquer them, what use, sir, shall we make 
 of our victory?” “Cineas,” replied the king, 
 “your question answers itself. V/hen the Ro- 
 mans are once subdued, there is no town, whether 
 Greek or barbarian, in all the country, that will 
 dare oppose us ; but we shall immediately be 
 masters of all Italy, whose greatness, power, and 
 importance no man knows better than you.” 
 Cineas, after a short pause, continued, “ But, 
 after we have conquered Italy, what shall we do 
 next, sir?” Pyrrhus, not yet perceiving his 
 drift, replied, “ There is Sicily very near, and 
 stretches out her arms to receive us, a fruitful 
 and populous island, and easy to be taken. For 
 Agathocles was no sooner gone, than faction and 
 anarchy prevailed among her cities, and every- 
 thing is kept in confusion by her turbulent ^dema- 
 gogues.” “What you say, my prince,”^ said 
 Cineas, “is very probable ; but is the taking of 
 Sicily to conclude our expeditions?” “Far 
 from it,” answered Pyrrhus; “for if Heaven 
 grant us success in this, that success shall only be 
 the prelude to greater things.^ Who can forbear 
 Libya and Carthage, then within reach? which 
 Agathocles, even when he fled in a clandestine 
 manner from Syracuse, and crossed the sea with 
 a few ships only, had almost made himself master 
 of. And when we have made such conquests, 
 who can pretend to say, that any of our enemies, 
 who are now so insolent, will think of resisting 
 us?” “To be sure,” said Cineas, “they will 
 not ; for it is clear that so much power will en- 
 able you to recover Macedonia, and to establish 
 yourself uncontested sovereign of Greece. But 
 when we have conquered all, what are we to do 
 then? ” “ Why, then, my friend,” said Pyrrhus, 
 
 laughing, “ we will take our ease, and drink and 
 be merry.” Cineas having brought him thus 
 far, replied, “ And what hinders us from drinking 
 and taking our ease now, when we have already 
 those things in our hands, at which we propose 
 to arrive through seas of blood, through infinite 
 toils and dangers, through innumerable calami- 
 ties which we must both cause and suffer ? ” 
 
 This discourse of Cineas gave Pyrrhus pain, 
 but produced no reformation. He saw the cer- 
 tain happiness which he gave up, but was_ not 
 able to forego the hopes that flattered his desires. 
 In the first place, therefore, he sent Cineas to 
 Tarentum with 3000 foot : from whence there 
 arrived, soon after, a great number of galleys, 
 transports, and flat-bottomed boats, on board of 
 which he put 20 elephants, 3000 horse, 20,000 
 foot, 2000 archers, and 500 slingers. When all 
 was ready, he set sail ; but as soon as he was got 
 into the midst of the Ionian, he was attacked by 
 a violent wind at north, which was_ unusual at 
 that season. The storm raged terribly,^ but by 
 the skill and extraordinary efforts of his pilots 
 and mariners, his ship made the Italian shore, 
 with infinite labour and beyond all expectation. 
 The rest of the fleet could not hold their course, 
 but were dispersed far and wide. Some of the 
 ships were quite beaten off from the coast _ of 
 Italy, and driven into the Libyan and Sicilian 
 sea : others, not being able to double the cape of 
 Japygia, were overtaken by the night; and a 
 
PYRRHUS, 
 
 279 
 
 great and boisterous sea driving them upon a 
 ditticult and rocky shore, they were all in the 
 utmost distress. The king’s ship, indeed, by its 
 size and strength, resisted the force of the waves, 
 while the wind blew from the sea ; but that 
 coming about, and blowing directly from the 
 shore, the ship, as she stood with her head 
 against it, was in danger of opening by the 
 shocks she received. And yet to be driven oft 
 again into a tempestuous sea, while the wind 
 continually shifted from point to point, seemed 
 the most dreadful case of all. In this e.xtremity 
 P\TThus threw himself overboard, and was im- 
 mediately followed by his friends and guards, 
 who strove which should give him the best assist- 
 ance. But the darkness of the night, and the 
 roaring and resistance of the waves, w hich beat 
 upon the shore, and were driven back with equal 
 violence, rendered it extremely difficult to save 
 him. At last, by daybreak, the wind being con- 
 siderably fallen, with much trouble he got ashore, 
 greatly w’eakened in body, but with a strength 
 and fii-mness of mind which bravely combated 
 the distress. At the same time the Messapians, 
 on whose coast he was cast, ran down to give 
 him all the succour in their power. They also 
 met with some other of his vessels that had 
 weathered the storm, in which were a small 
 number of horse, not quite 2coo foot, and tw o 
 elephants. With these Pyrrhus marched to 
 Tarentum. 
 
 When Cineas was informed of this, he drew 
 out his forces, and went to meet him. PjTrhus, 
 upon his arrival at Tarentum, did not choose to 
 have recourse to compulsion at first, nor to do 
 anything against the inclination of the inhabit- 
 ants, till his ships were safe arrived, and the 
 greatest part of his forces collected. But, after 
 this, seeing the Tarentines, so far from being in 
 a condition to defend others, that they would 
 not even defend themselv^es, except they w’ere 
 driven to it by necessity ; and that they sat still 
 at home, and .sjient their time about the baths cr 
 in feasting and idle talk, as expecting that he 
 wmuld fight for them ; he shut up the places of 
 exercise and the walks, wffiere they used, as the3* 
 sauntered along, to conduct the war whth words. 
 He also put a stop to their unseasonable enter- 
 tainments, revels, and diversions. Instead of 
 these, he called them to arms, and in his musters 
 and reviews was severe and inexorable ; so that 
 many of them quitted the place ; for, being 
 unaccustomed to be under command, they called 
 that a slavery which was not a life of pleasure. 
 
 He now received intelligence that LseHnus, 
 the Roman Consuh w^as coming against him with 
 a great army, and rarxiging Lucania by the way. 
 And though the con ederates were not come up, 
 yet looking upon it as a disgi-ace to sit still and 
 see the enemy approach still nearer, he took the 
 field with the troops he had. But first he sent 
 a herald to the Romans, with proposals, before 
 they came to extremities, to terminate their dif- 
 ferences amicably with the Greeks in Italy, by 
 taking him for the mediator and umpire. 
 Laevinus answered that the Romans neither 
 accepted P^nrhus as a mediator, nor feared him 
 as an enemy. Whereupon, he marched forw'ard, 
 and encamped upon the plam between the cities 
 K Heraclea : and having notice 
 
 Romans were near, and lay on the other 
 side of the river Siris, he rode up to the river to 
 
 take a view' of them. When he saw the order of 
 their troops, the appointment of their w'atches, ^ 
 and the regularity of their w’hole encampment, ^ 
 he was strtick wnth admiration, and said to a 
 triend wffio was by, “ Megacles, the disposition 
 of these barbarians has nothing of the barbarian 
 in it ; w'e shall see whether the rest w ill answ'er ; 
 it.” He now became solicitous for the event, 1 
 and determining to wait for the allies, set a guard ^ 
 upon the river, to oppose the Romans, if they 
 should endeavour to pass it. The Romans, on l 
 their part, hastening to prevent the coming up 
 of those forces which he had resolved to wait ^ 
 for, attempted the passage. The infantry took I 
 to the fords, and the cavnlry got over wherever 
 they could ; so that the Greeks were afraid of 
 being surrounded, and retreated to their main 
 body. 
 
 Pyrrhus, greatly concerned at this, ordered his . 
 foot-officers to draw up the forces, and to stand * 
 to their arms ; while he advanced wath the horse, 
 w'ho were about 3000, in hopes of finding the 
 Romans 3*et busied in the passage, and dispersed 
 w'ithout any order. But when he saw a great j 
 number of shields glittering above the water, 
 and the horse preserving their ranks as thej^ 
 passed, he closed his own ranks and began the 
 attack. Beside his being distinguished by the 
 beauty and lustre of his arms, which were of ; 
 very curious fabric, he performed acts of valour i 
 worthy the great reputation he had acquired. 
 For, though he exposed his person in the hottest 
 of the engagement, and charged whth the greatest 
 vigour, he was never in the least disturbed, nor 
 lost his presence of mind ; but gave his orders as 
 coolly as if he had been out of the action, and 
 moved to this side or that as occasion required, 
 to support his men w'here he saw them maintain- 
 ing an unequal fight. 
 
 Leonatus of Macedon observed an Italian 
 horseman very intent upon Pyrrhus, changing 
 his post as he did, and regulating all his motions 
 by his. Whereupon he rode up, and said to 
 him, “Do you see. sir, that barbarian upon the 
 black horse with white feet ? he seems to medi- 
 tate some great and dreadful design. He keeps 
 you in his eye ; full of fire and spirit, he singles 
 you out, and takes no notice of anybody dse. 
 Therefore be on your ^ard against him.” 
 P^nrhus answered, “It is impossible, Leonatus, 
 to avoid our destiny. But neither tliis nor any 
 other Italian shall have much satis action in 
 ragaging witli me.” While they were j'et speak- 
 ing, the Italian levelled his spear, and spurred 
 his horse against Pyrrhus. He mLssed the king, 
 but nm his horse through, as Leonatus did the 
 Italian’s the same moment, so that both horses 
 fell together. Pjvrhus was carried off by his 
 friends who gathered round him, and killed the 
 Italian, wffio fought to the veiy lasL This brave 
 man had the command of a troop of horse ; 
 Ferentum was the place of his birth, and his 
 name Oplacus. 
 
 This made PvTrhus more cautious. And now 
 seeing his ca\-alry give ground, he sent his 
 infantry orders to advance, and formed them as 
 soon as thej’ came up. Then giring his robe and 
 his arms to Megacles, one of his friends, he dis- 
 guised him.self in his, and proceeded to the 
 charge. The Romans received him with great 
 firmness, and the success of the battle remained 
 long undecided. It is even said, that each army 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 280 
 
 was broken and gave way seven times, and 
 rallied as often. He changed his arms very 
 seasonably, for that saved his life ; but at the 
 same time it had nearly ruined his affairs, and 
 lost him the victory. Many aimed at Megacles ; 
 but the man who first wounded him and brought 
 him to the ground, was named Dexous. Dexous 
 seized his helmet and his robe, and rode up to 
 Lssvinus, showing the spoils, and crying out that 
 he had slain Pyrrhus. The spoils having passed 
 from rank to rank, as it were in triumph, the 
 Roman army shouted for joy, while that of the 
 Greeks was struck with grief and consternation. 
 This held till Pyrrhus, apprized of what had 
 happened, rode about the army uncovered, 
 stretching out his hand to his soldiers, and 
 giving them to know him by his voice. At last 
 the Romans were worsted, chiefly by means of 
 the elephants. For the horses, before they came 
 near them, were frightened, and ran back with 
 their riders : and Pyrrhus commanding his Thes- 
 salian cavalry to fall upon them while in this 
 disorder, they were routed with great slaughter. 
 Dionysius writes, that near 15,000 Romans fell 
 in this battle : but Hieronymus makes the num- 
 ber only 7000. On Pyrrhus’s side, Dionysius 
 says, there were 13,000 killed ; Hieronymus not 
 quite 4000. Among these, however, were the 
 most valuable of his friends and officers, whose 
 services he had made great use of, and in whom 
 he had placed the highest confidence. 
 
 Pyrrhus immediately entered the Roman camp, 
 which he found deserted. He gained over many 
 cities which had been in alliance with Rome, and 
 laid waste the territories of others. Nay, he 
 advanced to within thirty-seven miles of Rome 
 itself. The Lucanians and the Samnites joined 
 him after the battle, and were reproved for their 
 delay ; but it was plain that he v/as greatly 
 elevated and delighted with having defeated so 
 pov/erful an army of Romans with the assistance 
 of the Tarentines only. 
 
 The Romans, on this occasion, did not take 
 the command from Lsevinus, though Caius 
 Fabricius is reported to have said that the 
 Romans were not overcome by the Epirots, but 
 Lsevinus by Pyrrhus : intimating, that the de- 
 defeat was owing to the inferiority of the general, 
 not of his troops. Then raising new levies, 
 filling up their legions, and talking in a lofty and 
 menacing tone about the war, they struck Pyrrhus 
 with amazement. He thought proper, therefore, 
 to send an embassy to them first, to_ try whether 
 they were disposed to peace ; being satisfied 
 that to take the city, and make an absolute con- 
 quest, was an undertaking of too much difficulty 
 to be effected by .such an army as his was at that 
 time ; whereas, if he could bring them to terms 
 of accommodation, and conclude a_ peace with 
 them, it would be very glorious for him after such 
 a victory. _ ^ , , 
 
 Cineas, who was sent with this commission, 
 applied to the great men, and sent them and 
 their wives presents in his master’s name. But 
 they all refused them ; the women as well as the 
 men declaring that when Rome had publicly 
 ratified a treaty with the king, they should then 
 on their parts be ready to give him every mark 
 of their friendship and respect. And though 
 Cineas made a very engaging speech to the 
 senate, and used many arguments to induce 
 them to close with him, yet they lent not a 
 
 willing ear to his propositions, notwithstanding 
 that Pyrrhus offered to restore without ransom 
 the prisoners he had made in the battle, and 
 promised to assist them in the conquest of Italy, 
 desiring nothing in return but their friendship 
 for himself, and security for the Tarentines. 
 Some, indeed, seemed inclined to peace, urging 
 that they had already lost a great battle, and 
 had a still greater to expect, since Pyrrhus was 
 joined by several nations in Italy. There was 
 then an illustrious Roman, Appius Claudius by 
 name, who, on account of his great age and the 
 loss of his sight, had declined all attendance to 
 public business. But when he heard of the 
 embassy from Pyrrhus, and the report prevailed 
 that the senate was going to vote for the peace, 
 he could not contain himself, but ordered his 
 servants to take him up, and carry him in his 
 chair through the forum to the senate-house. 
 When he was brought to the door, his sons and 
 sons-in-law received him, and led him into the 
 senate. A respectful silence was observed by 
 the whole body on his appearance ; and he de- 
 livered his sentiments in the following terms : 
 “ Hitherto I have regarded my blindness as a 
 misfortune, but now, Romans, I wish I had been 
 as deaf as I am blind. For then I should not 
 have heard of your shameful counsels and de- 
 crees so ruinous to the glory of Rome. Where 
 now are your speeches so much echoed about 
 the v/orld, that if Alexander the Great had come 
 into Italy, when we were_ young, and your 
 fathers in the vigour of their age, he would not 
 now be celebrated as invincible, but either by his 
 flight or his fall would have added to the glory 
 of Rome? You now show the vanity and folly 
 of that boast, while you dread the Chaonians 
 and Molossians, who were ever a prey to the 
 Macedonians, and tremble at the name of 
 Pj^rrhus, who has all his life been paying his 
 court to one of the guards of that Alexander. 
 At present he wanders about Italy, not so much 
 to succour the Greeks here, as to avoid his 
 enemies at home ; and he promises to procure 
 us the empire of this country with those forces, 
 which could not enable him to keep a small part 
 of Macedonia. Do not expect, then, to get rid 
 of him, by entering into alliance with him. 
 That step will only open a door to many in- 
 vaders. For who is there that will not despise 
 you, and think you an easy conquest, if Pyrrhus 
 not only escapes unpunished for his insolence, 
 but gains the Tarentines and Samnites, as a 
 reward for insulting the Romans.” ^ 
 
 Appius had no sooner done speaking, than they 
 voted unanimously for the war, and dismissed 
 Cineas with this answer : That when Pyrrhus 
 had quitted Italy, they would enter upon a 
 treaty of friendship and alliance with him, if he 
 desired it ; but while he continued there in a 
 hostile manner, they would prosecute the war 
 against him with all their force, though he should 
 have defeated a thousand Lsevinus’s. 
 
 It is said that Cineas, while he was upon this 
 business, took great pains to observe the man- 
 ners of the Romans, and to examine into the 
 nature of their government. And when he had 
 learned what he desired, by conversing with 
 their great men, he made a faithful report of all 
 to Pyrrhus ; and told him, am.ong the rest, that 
 the senate appeared to him an assembly of 
 kings; and as to the people, they were so 
 
PYRRHUS. 281 
 
 numerous, that he was afraid he had to do with 
 a Lernsean h3^dra. For the Consul had already 
 an army on foot twice as large as the former, 
 and had left multitudes behind in Rome of a 
 proper age for enlisting, and sufficient to form 
 many such armies. 
 
 After this, Fabricius came ambassador to 
 Pyrrhus to treat about the ransom and exchange 
 of prisoners. Fabricius, as Cineas iniormed 
 Pyrrhus, was highly valued by the Romans for 
 his probity and martial abilities, but he was 
 extremely poor. Pyrrhus received him witn 
 particular distinction, and privately offered him 
 gold ; not for any ‘base purpose ; but he begged 
 him to accept of it as a pledge of friendship and 
 hospitality. Fabricius refusing the present, 
 P^’-rrhus pressed him no farther ; but the next 
 day wanting to surprise him, and knowing that 
 he had never seen an elephant, he ordered the 
 biggest he had, to be armed and placed behind 
 a curtain in the room where they were to be in 
 conference. Accordingly this was done, and 
 upon a sign given, the curtain drawn ; and the 
 elephant raising his trunk over the head of 
 Fabricius, made a horrid and frightful noise. 
 Fabricius turned about without being in the 
 least discomposed, and said to Pyrrhus smiling, 
 “Neither your gold yesterday, nor your beast 
 to-day, has made any impression upon me.” 
 
 Ill tlie even.ng, the conversation at table turned 
 upon many subjects, but chiefly upon Greece and 
 the Grecian philosophers. This led Cineas to 
 mention Epicurus,* and to give some account of 
 the opinions of his sect concerning the gods and 
 civil government. He said, they placed the chief 
 happiness of man in pleasure, and avoided all 
 concern in the administration of aflfairs as the 
 bane of a happy life ; and that they attributed to 
 the Deity neither benevolence nor anger, but 
 maintained, that, far removed from the care of 
 human affairs, he passed his time in ease and 
 inactivity, and was totally immersed in pleasure. 
 While he was yet speaking, Fabricius cried out 
 “ 0 heavens ! may Pyrrhus and the Sanmites 
 adopt these opinions as long as they are at war 
 with the Romans ! ” Pyrrhus adrninng the noble 
 sentiments and principles of Fabricius, was more 
 desirous than ever of establishing a friendship 
 with Rome, instead of continuing the war. And 
 taking Fabricius aside, he pressed him to mediate 
 a peace, and then go and settle at his court, 
 where he should be his most intimate companion, 
 and the chief of his generals. Fabricius answered 
 in a low voice, “ That, sir, would be no advantage 
 to you : for those who now honour and admire 
 you, should they once have experience of me, 
 would rather choose to be governed by _me than 
 you.” Such was the character of Fabricius. 
 
 Pyrrhus, far from being offended at this ansv/er, 
 or taking it like a tyrant, made his friends ac- 
 quainted with the magnanimity of Fabricius, and 
 entrusted the prisoners to him only, on condi- 
 tion that if the senate did not agree to a peace, 
 they should be sent back, after they had embraced 
 their relations, and celebrated the Saturnalia. 
 
 After this, Fabricius being consul,! an unknown 
 
 person came to his camp, with a letter from the 
 king’s physician, who offered to take off Pyrrhus 
 by poison, and so end the war without any further 
 hazard to the Romans, provided that they gave 
 him a proper compensation for his services. 
 Fabricius detested the man’s villainy ; and, having 
 brought his colleague into the same sentiments, 
 sent despatches to Pyrrhu.-' without losing a 
 moment’s time, to caution liim against the treason. 
 The letter ran thus : 
 
 “Caius Fabricius and Quintus rEmilius, consuls, 
 to king Pyrrhus, health. 
 
 “ It appears that you ludge very ill both of 
 your friends and enemies. For you will find by 
 this letter which was sent 'o u:-., that you are at 
 war with men of virtue ami honour, and trust 
 knaves and villains. Nor s it out of kindness 
 that we give you this information ; but we do it, 
 lest your death should bring a di.sgrace upon us, 
 and we should seem to have put a period to the 
 war by treachery, when we could not do it by 
 valour.” 
 
 Pyrrhus having read the letter, and detected the 
 treason, punished the physician ; and, to show his 
 gratitude to Fabricius and the Romans, he de- 
 livered up the prisoners without ransom, and sent 
 Cineas again to negociate a peace. The Romans, 
 unwilling to receive a lavour from an enemy, or a 
 reward for not consenting to an ill thing, did 
 indeed receive the prisoners at his hands, but 
 sent him an equal number of Tarentines and 
 Samnites. As to peace and friendship, they 
 would not hear any proposals about it, till Pyrrhus 
 should have laid down his arms, drawn his forces 
 out of Italy, and returned to Epirus in the same 
 ships in which he came. 
 
 His affairs now requiring another battle, he 
 assembled his army, and marched and attacked 
 the Romans near Asculuni. The ground was very 
 rough and uneven, and marshy also towards the 
 river, so that it was extremely inconvenient for 
 the cavalry, and quite prevented the elephants 
 from acting with the infantry. For this reason he 
 had a great number of men killed and wounded, 
 and might have been entirely defeated, had not 
 night put an end to the battle. Next day, con- 
 triving, by an act of generalship, to engage upon 
 even ground, where his elephants might come at 
 the enemy, he seized in time that difficult post 
 where they fought the day before. Then he 
 planted a number of archers and slingers among 
 his elephants ; thickened his other ranks ; and 
 moved forward in good order, though with great 
 force and impetuosity against the Romans. 
 
 The Romans, who had not now the advantage 
 of ground for attacking and retreating as they 
 pleased, were obliged to fight upon the plain man 
 to man. They hastened to break the enemy’s 
 infantry, before the elephants came up, and made 
 prodigious efforts with their swords against the 
 pikes ; not regarding themselves or the wounds 
 they received, but only looking where they might 
 strike and slay. After a long dispute, however, 
 the Romans were forced to give way ; wffiich they 
 did first where Pyrrhus fought in person ; for they 
 could not resist the fury of his attack. Indeed, 
 it was the force and weight of the elephants which 
 put them quite to the rout. The Roman valour 
 being of no use against those fierce creatures, the 
 troops thought it wiser to give way, as to an over- 
 whelming torrent or an earthquake, than to fall 
 in a fruitless opposition, when they could gain no 
 
 * Epicurus was then living. The doctrines of 
 that philosopher were greatly in vogue in Rome, 
 just before the ruin of the commonwealth. 
 
 t Two hundred and seventy-seven years before 
 Christ. 
 
282 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 advantage, though they suffered the greatest ex- 
 tremities. And they had not far to fly before 
 they gained their camp. Hieronymus says the 
 Romans lost 6000 men in the action, and Pyrrhus, 
 according to the account in his own commentaries, 
 lost 3500. Nevertheless, Dionysius does not tell 
 us, that there were two battles at Asculum, nor 
 that it was clear that the Romans were defeated ; 
 but that the action lasted till sunset, and then the 
 combatants parted unwillingly. Pyrrhus being 
 wounded in the arm with a javelin, and the 
 Samnites having plundered his baggage ; and 
 that the number of the slain, counting the loss on 
 both sides, amounted to above 15,000 men. When 
 they had all quitted the field, and Pyrrhus was 
 congratulated on the victory, he said, “ Such 
 another victory and we are undone.” For he had 
 lost great part of the forces which he brought 
 with him, and all his friends and officers, except a 
 very small number. He had no others to send 
 for, to supply their place, and he found his con- 
 federates here very cold and spiritless. Whereas 
 the Romans filled up their legions with ease and 
 despatch, from an inexhaustible fountain which 
 they had at home ; and their defeats were so far 
 from discouraging them, that indignation gave 
 them fresh strength and ardour for the war. 
 
 Amidst these difficulties, new hopes, as vain as 
 the former, offered themselves to Pyrrhus, and 
 enterprises which distracted him in the choice. 
 On one side, ambassadors came from Sicily, who 
 proposed to put Syracuse, Agrigentum, and the 
 city of the Leontines in his hands, and desired 
 -him to drive the Carthaginians out of the island, 
 and free it from tyrants ; and on the other side, 
 news was brought him from Greece, that Ptolemy 
 Ceraunus was slain in battle by the Gauls, and 
 that this would be a seasonable juncture for him 
 to offer himself to the Macedonians who wanted 
 a king.* On this occasion he complained greatly 
 of fortune, for offering him two such glorious 
 opportunities of action at once : and, afflicted to 
 think that in embracing the one he must neces- 
 sarily give up the other, he was a long time 
 perplexed and doubtful which to fix upon. At 
 last the expedition to Sicily appearing to him the 
 more important, by reason of its nearness to 
 Africa, he determined to go thither, and imme- 
 diately despatched Cineas before him, according 
 to custom, to treat with the cities in his behalf. 
 He placed, however, a strong garrison in Taren- 
 tum, notwithstanding the remonstrances of the 
 people ; who insisted that he should either fulfil 
 the purpose he came for, by staying to assist them 
 effectually in the Roman war, or, if he would be 
 gone, to leave their city as he found it. But he 
 gave them a severe answer, ordered them to be 
 quiet and wait his time, and so set sail. 
 
 _ When he arrived in Sicily, he found everything 
 disposed agreeably to his hopes. The cities 
 readily put themselves in his hands : and wherever 
 force was necessary, nothing at first made any 
 considerable resistance to his arms. But with 
 30,000 foot, 2500 horse, and 200 sail of ships, he 
 
 * Ptolemy Ceraunus was slain three years 
 before, during the consulate of Laevinus. After 
 him the Macedonians had several kings in quick 
 succession. All, therefore, that the letters could 
 import, must be, that the Macedonians would 
 prefer Pyrrhus to Antigonus, who at present was 
 in possession. 
 
 advanced against the Carthaginians, drove them 
 before him, and ruined their province. Eryx was 
 the strongest city in those parts, and the best 
 provided with men for its defence ; yet he resolved 
 to take it by storm. As soon as his army was in 
 readiness to give the assault, he armed himself at 
 all points ; and, advancing towards the walls, 
 made a vow to Hercules of games and sacrifices 
 in acknowledgment of the victory, if in that day’s 
 action he should distinguish himself before the 
 Greeks in Sicily, in a manner that became his 
 great descent and his fortunes. Then he ordered 
 the signal to be given by sound of trumpet ; and 
 having driven the barbarians from the walls with 
 his missive weapons, he planted the scaling- 
 ladders, and was himself the first that mounted. ’ 
 
 There he was attacked by a crowd of enemies, 
 some- of whom he drove back, others he pushed 1 
 down from the wall on both sides j but the greatest 
 part he slew with the sword, so that there was 
 quite a rampart of dead bodies around him. In 
 the mean time he himself received not the least . 
 harm, but appeared to his enemies in the awful 
 character _ of some superior being ; showing on 
 this occasion, that Homer spoke with judgment 
 and knowledge, when he represented valour as 
 the only virtue which discovers a divine energy, 
 and those enthusiastic transports which raise a 
 man above himself. When the city was taken, 
 he offered a magnificent sacrifice to Hercules, and 
 exhibited a variety of shows and games. 
 
 Of all the barbarians, those about Messena, 
 who were called Mamertines, gave the Greeks 
 the most trouble, and had subjected many of 
 thern to tribute. They were a numerous and 
 warlike people, and thence had the appellation 
 of Mamertines, which in the Latin tongue signi- 
 fies martial. But Pyrrhus seized the collectors 
 of the tribute, and put them to death ; and having 
 defea.ted the Mamertines in a set battle, he de- 
 stroyed many of their strongholds. 
 
 The Carthaginians were now inclined to peace, 
 and offered him both money and ships, on con- 
 dition that he granted them his friendship. But, 
 having farther prospects, he made answer, that 
 there was only one way to peace and friendship, 
 which was, for the Carthaginians to evacuate 
 Sicily, and make the Libyan sea the boundary 
 between them and the Greeks. Elated with 
 prosperity and his present strength, he thought 
 of nothing but pursuing the hopes which first 
 drew him into Sicily, 
 
 His first object now was Africa. He had 
 vessels enough for his purpose, but he wanted 
 mariners. And in the collecting of them he was 
 far from proceeding with lenity and moderation : 
 on the contrary, he carried it to the cities with a 
 high hand and with great rigour, seconding his 
 orders for a supply with force, and severely 
 chastising those who disobeyed them. This was 
 not the conduct which he had observed at first ; 
 for then he was gracious and affable to an ex- 
 treme, placed an entire confidence in the people, 
 and avoided giving them the least uneasiness. 
 
 By these means he had gained their hearts. But 
 now turning from a popular prince into a tyrant, 
 his austerity drew upon him the imputation both 
 of ingratitude and perfidiousness. Necessity, 
 however, obliged them to furnish him with what 
 he demanded, though they were little disposed to 
 it. But what chiefly alienated their affections 
 was his behaviour to Thonon and Sostratus, two 
 
PYRRHUS. 
 
 283 
 
 persons of the greatest authority in Syracuse. 
 These were the men who first invited him into 
 Sicily, who upon his arrival immediately put 
 their city in his hands, and who had been the 
 principal instruments of the great things he had 
 done in the island. Yet his suspicions would 
 neither let him take them with him, nor leave 
 them behind him. Sostratus took the alarm and 
 fled. Whereupon Thonon was seized by Pyrrhus, 
 who alleged that he was an accomplice with 
 Sostratus, and put him to death. Then his affairs 
 ran to ruin, not gradually and by little and little, 
 but all at once. And the violent hatred which 
 the cities conceived for him led some of them to 
 join the Carthaginians, and others the Mamer- 
 tines. While he thus saw nothing around him 
 but cabals, seditions, and insurrections, he re- 
 ceived letters from the Samnites and Tarentines, 
 who being quite driven out of the field, and with 
 difficulty defending themselves within their walls, 
 begged his assistance. This afforded a handsome 
 pretence for his departure, without^ its being 
 called a flight and an absolute giving up his 
 affairs in Sicily. But the truth was, that no 
 longer being able to hold the island, he quitted 
 it, like a shattered ship, and threw himself again 
 into Italy. It is reported, that, as he sailed 
 away, he looked back upon the isle, and said to 
 those about him, “ What a field we leave the 
 Carthaginians and Romans to exercise their arms 
 in ! ” and his conjecture was soon after verified. 
 
 The barbarians rose against him as he set sail ; 
 and being attacked by the Carthaginians on his 
 passage, he lost many of his ships : with the 
 remainder he gained the Italian shore. The 
 Mamertines, to the number of 10,000, had got 
 thither before him ; and, though they v/ere afraid 
 to come to a pitched battle, yet they attacked 
 and harassed him in the difficult passes, and put 
 his whole army in disorder. He lost two ele- 
 phants, and a considerable part of his rear was 
 cut in pieces. But he immediately pushed from 
 the van to their assistance, and risked his person 
 in the boldest manner, against men trained by 
 long practice to war, who fought with a spirit of 
 resentment. In this dispute he received a wound 
 in the head, which forced him to retire a little out 
 of the battle, and animated the enemy still more. 
 One of them, therefore, who was distinguished 
 both by his size and arms, advanced before the 
 lines, and with a loud voice called upon him to 
 come forth if he was alive. Pyrrhus, incensed at 
 this, returned with his guards, and, with a visage 
 so fierce with anger, and so besmeared with blood, 
 that it was dreadful to look upon, made his way 
 through his battalions, notwithstanding their re- 
 monstrances. Thus rushing upon the barbarian, 
 he prevented his blow, and gave him such a stroke 
 on the head with his sword, that, with the strength 
 of his arm, and the excellent temper of the weapon, 
 he cleaved him quite down, and in one moment 
 the parts fell asunder. The achievement stopped 
 the course of the barbarians, who were struck 
 with admiration and amazement at P^’^rrhus, as 
 at a superior being. He made the rest of his 
 march, therefore, without disturbance, and arrived 
 at Tarentum with 20,000 foot and 3000 horse. 
 Then taking with him the best troops that he 
 found there, he advanced immediately against the 
 Romans, who were encamped in the country of 
 the Samnites. 
 
 The affairs of the Samnites were run to ruin. 
 
 and their spirits sunk, because they had been 
 beaten in several battles by the Romans. There 
 remained also in their hearts some resentment 
 against Pyrrhus, on account of his leaving them 
 to go to Sicily, so that few of them repaired to 
 his standard. The forces that he had, he divided 
 into two bodies, one of which he detached into 
 Lucania, to keep one of the consuls * employed, 
 and hinder him from assisting his colleague : with 
 the other corps he marched in person against the 
 other consul Manius Curius, who lay safely en- 
 trenched near the city of Beneventum, and de- 
 clined fighting, as well in expectation of the 
 succours from Lucania, as on account of his being 
 deterred from action by the augurs and sooth- 
 sayers. 
 
 Pyrrhus hastening to attack him before he 
 could be joined by his colleague, took the choicest 
 of his troops and the most warlike of his ele- 
 phants, and pushed forward in the night to sur- 
 prise his camp. But as he had a long circuit to 
 take, and the roads were entangled with trees 
 and bushes, his lights failed, and numbers of his 
 men lost their way. Thus the night escaped. 
 At daybreak he was discovered by the enemy 
 descending from the heights, which caused no 
 small disorder in their camp. Manius, however, 
 finding the sacrifices auspicious, and the time 
 pressing, issued out of his trenches, attacked the 
 vanguard of the enemy, and put them to flight. 
 This spread a consternation through their whole 
 army, so that many of them w’ere killed, and 
 some of the elephants taken. On the other hand, 
 the success led Manius to try a pitched battle. 
 Engaging, therefore, in the open field, one of his 
 wings defeated that of the enemy’s ; but the other 
 was borne down by the elephants, and driven 
 back to the trenches. In this exigency he called 
 for those troops that were left to guard the camp, 
 who were all fresh men and well armed. These, 
 as they descended from their advantageous situa- 
 tion, pierced the elephants with their javelins, 
 and forced them to turn their backs ; and those 
 creatures rushing upon their own battalions, 
 threw them into the greatest confusion and dis- 
 order. This put the victory in the hands of the 
 Romans, and empire together with the victory. 
 For, by the courage exerted and the great actions 
 performed this day, they acquired a loftiness of 
 sentiment, and enlargement of power, with the 
 reputation of being invincible, which soon gained 
 them all Italy, and Sicily a little after. 
 
 Thus Pyrrhus fell from his hopes of Italy and 
 Sicily, after he had wasted six years in these 
 expeditions. It is true he was not successful ; 
 but amidst all his defeats he preserved his 
 courage unconquerable, and was reputed to excel, 
 in military experience and personal prowess, all 
 the princes of his time. But what he gained by 
 his achievements, he lost by vain hopes ; his 
 desire of something absent, never suffered him 
 effectually to persevere in a present pursuit. 
 Hence it was that Antigonus compared him to a 
 gamester, who makes many good throws at dice, 
 but knows not how to make the best of his game. 
 
 He returned to Epirus with 8000 foot and 500 
 horse ; but not having funds to maintain them, 
 he sought for a war which might answ’er that end. 
 And being joined by a body of Gauls, he threw 
 himself into Macedonia, where Antigonus the son 
 
 ♦ Aulus Cornelius Lentulus. 
 
2S4 
 
 FLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 of Demetrius reigned at that time. His design 
 was only to pillage and carry off booty : but 
 having taken many cities, and drawn over 2000 of 
 Antigonus’s men, he enlarged his views, and 
 inarched against the king. Coming up with him 
 in a narrow pass, he put his whole army in dis- 
 order. The Gauls, however, who composed An- 
 tigonus’s rear, being a numerous body, made a 
 gallant resistance. The dispute was sharp, but 
 at last most of them were cut in pieces ; and they 
 who had the charge of the elephants, being sur- 
 rounded, delivered up both themselves and the 
 beasts. After so great an advantage, Pyrrhus, 
 following his fortune rather than any rational 
 plan, pushed against the Macedonian phalanx, 
 now struck with terror and confusion at their loss. 
 And perceiving that they refused to engage with 
 him, he stretched out his hand to their com- 
 manders and other officers, at the same time call- 
 ing them all by their names ; by which means he 
 drew over the enemy’s infantry. Antigonus, 
 therefore, was forced to fly ; he persuaded, how- 
 ever, some of the maritime towns to remain under 
 his government. 
 
 Amidst so many instances of success, Pyrrhus, 
 concluding that his exploit against the Gauls was 
 far the most glorious, consecrated the most 
 splendid and valuable of the spoils in the temple 
 of Minerva Itonis, with this inscription : 
 
 These spoils that Pyrrhus on the martial plain 
 Snatch’d from the vanquish’d Gaul, Itonian 
 Pallas, 
 
 He consecrates to thee — If from his throne 
 Antigonus deserted fled, and ruin 
 Pursued the sword of Pyrrhus — ’tis no wonder— 
 From iEacus he sprung. 
 
 After the battle he soon recovered the cities. 
 When he had made himself master of .<Fgse, 
 among other hardships put upon the inhabitants, 
 he left among them a garrison draughted from 
 those Gauls who served under him. The Gauls 
 of all men are the most covetous of money; 
 and they were no sooner put in possession of 
 the town than they broke open the tombs of 
 the kings who were buried there, plundered the 
 treasures, and insolently scattered their bones. 
 Pyrrhus passed the matter very slightly over ; 
 whether it was that the affairs he had upon his 
 hands obliged him to put off the inquiry, or 
 whether he was afraid of the Gauls, and did not 
 dare to punish them. The connivance, however, 
 was much censured by the Macedonians. 
 
 His interest was not well established among 
 them, nor had he any good prospect of its 
 security, when he began to entertain new visionary 
 hopes : and, in ridicule of Antigonus, he said, 
 he wondered at his impudence, in not laying 
 aside the purple, and taking the habit of a private 
 person. 
 
 About this time, Cleonymus the Spartan came 
 to entreat him that he would march to Lacedae- 
 mon, and he lent a willing ear to his request. 
 Cleonymus was of the blood royal ; but as he 
 seemed to be of a violent temper and inclined to 
 arbitrary power, he was neither loved nor trusted 
 by the Spartans, and Areus was appointed to the 
 throne. This was an old complaint which he had 
 against the citizens in general. But to this we 
 must add, that when advanced in years he had 
 married a young woman of great beauty, named 
 Chelidonis, who was of the royal family, and 
 
 daughter to Leotychides. Chelidonis entertain- 
 ing a violent passion for Acrotatus the son of 
 Areus, who was both young and handsome, ren- 
 dered the match not only uneasy but disgraceful 
 to Cleonymus, who was miserably in love ; for 
 there was not a man in Sparta who did not know 
 how much he was despised by his wife. These 
 domestic misfortunes, added to his public ones, 
 provoked him to apply to Pyrrhus, who marched 
 to Sparta with 25,000 foot, 2000 horse, and 24 
 elephants. These great preparations made it 
 evident at one view, that Pyrrhus did not come 
 to gain Sparta for Cleonymus, but Peloponnesus 
 for himself. He made, indeed, very different 
 professions to the Lacedaemonians, who sent an 
 embassy to him at Megalopolis : for he told them 
 that he was only come to set free the cities which 
 were in subjection to Antigonus ; and, what is 
 more extraordinary, that he fully intended, if 
 nothing happened to hinder it, to send his younger 
 sons to Sparta, for a Lacedaemonian education, 
 that they might, in this respect, have the advan- 
 tage of all other kings and princes. 
 
 With these pretences he amused those that 
 came to meet him on his march ; but as soon as 
 he set foot in Laconia, he began to plunder and 
 ravage it. And upon the ambassadors represent- 
 ing that he commenced hostilities without a pre- 
 vious declaration of war, he said, “And do we 
 not know that you Spartans never declare before- 
 hand what measures you are going to take ? ” to 
 which a Spartan, named Mandricidas, who was 
 in company, made answer in this laconic dialect, 
 “ If thou art a god, thou wilt do us no harm, 
 because \ve have done thee none ; if thou art a 
 man, perhaps we may And a better man than 
 thee.” 
 
 In the mean time he moved towards Lacedse- 
 mon, and was advised by Cleon^'mus to give the 
 assault immediately upon his arrival. But Pyrr- 
 hus, as we are told, fearing that his soldiers w'ould 
 plunder the city if they took it by night, put him 
 off, and said, they would proceed to the assault 
 the next day. For he knew there were but few 
 men within the city, and those unprepared, by 
 reason of his sudden approach ; and that Areus 
 the king was absent, being gone to Crete to suc- 
 cour the Gortynians. The contemptible idea 
 which Pyrrhus conceived of its weakness and 
 w'ant of men, was the principal thing that saved 
 the city. For supposing that he should not find 
 the least resistance, he ordered his tents to be 
 pitched, and sat quietly down ; while the helois 
 and friends of Cleonymus busied themselves in 
 adorning and preparing his house, in expectation 
 that Pyrrhus would sup with him there that 
 evening. 
 
 Night being come, the Lacedsemonians re- 
 solved, in the first place, to send off their women 
 to Crete, but they strongly opposed it ; and 
 Archidamia entering the senate with a sword in 
 her hand, complained of the mean opinion they 
 entertained of the women, if they imagined they 
 would survive the destruction of Sparta. In the 
 next place, they determined to draw a trench 
 parallel to the enemy's camp, and at each end of 
 it to sink waggons into the ground as deep as the 
 naves of the wheels, that so being firmly fixed, 
 they might stop the course of the elephants. As 
 soon as the work was begun, both matrons and 
 maids came and joined them ; the former with 
 their robes tucked up, and the latter in their 
 
PYRRHUS. 285 
 
 under garments only, to assist the older sort of 
 men. They advised those that were intended for 
 the fight, to repose themselves, and in the mean 
 time they undertook to finish the third part of the 
 trench, which they effected before morning. This 
 trench was in breadth six cubits, in depth four, 
 and 800 feet long, according to Phylarchus. 
 Hieronymus makes it less. 
 
 At daybreak the enemy was in motion, where- 
 upon the women armed the youth, with their own 
 hands, and gave them the trench in charge, 
 exhorting them to guard it well, and representing 
 how delightful it would be to conquer in the 
 view of their country, or how glorious to expire 
 in the arms of their mothers and their wives, 
 when they had met their deaths as became Spar- 
 tans. As for Chelidonis, she retired into her own 
 apartment with a rope about her neck, deter- 
 mined to end her days by it, rather than fall into 
 the hands of Cleonymus, if the city was taken. 
 
 Pyrrhus now pressed forward with his infantry 
 against the Spartans, who waited for him under a 
 rampart of shields. But, beside that the ditch 
 was scarce passable, he found that there was no 
 firm footing on the sides of it for his soldiers, 
 because of the looseness of the fresh earth. His 
 son Ptolemy seeing this, fetched a compass about 
 the trench with 2000 Gauls and a select body of 
 Chaonians, and endeavoured to open a passage 
 on the quarter of the waggons. But these were 
 so deep fixed and close locked, that they not only 
 obstructed their passage, but made it difficult for 
 the Spartans to come up and make a close de- 
 fence. The Gauls were now beginning to drag 
 out the wheels and draw the waggons into the 
 river, when young Acrotatus perceiving the dan- 
 ger, traversed the city with 300 men, and by the 
 advantage of some hollow ways surrounded 
 Ptolemy, not being seen till he began the attack 
 upon his rear. Ptolemy was now forced to face 
 about and stand upon the defensive. In the con- 
 fusion many of his soldiers running foul upon 
 each other, either tumbled into the ditch, or fell 
 under the waggons. At last, after a long dispute 
 and great effusion of blood, they were entirely 
 routed. The old men and the women saw this 
 exploit of Acrotatus : and as he returned through 
 the city to his post, covered with blood, bold and 
 elated with his victory, he appeared to the Spar- 
 tan women taller and more graceful than ever, 
 and they could not help envying Chelidonis such 
 a lover. Nay, some of the old men followed and 
 cried out, “ Go, Acrotatus, and enjoy Chelidonis; 
 and may your offspring be worthy of Sparta ! ” 
 
 The dispute was more obstinate where Pyrrhus 
 fought in person. Many of the Spartans dis- 
 tinguished thernselves in the action, and among 
 the rest, Phyllius made a glorious stand. He 
 slew numbers that endeavoured to force a passage, 
 and when he found himself ready to faint with 
 the many wounds he had received, he gave up 
 his post to one of the officers that was near him, 
 and retired to die in the midst of his own party, 
 that the enemy might not get his body in their 
 power. 
 
 Night parted the combatants ; and Pyrrhus, 
 as he lay in his tent, had this dream : he thought 
 11 lightning upon Lacedaemon, which set 
 
 all the city on fire, and that the sight filled him 
 with^y. The transport awaking him, he ordered 
 his officers to put their men under arms ; and to 
 some of his friends he related his vision, from 
 
 which he assured himself that he should take 
 the city by storm. The thing was received with 
 admiration and a general assent ; but it did not 
 please Lysimachus. He said, that, as no foot is 
 to tread on places that are struck by lightning, so 
 the Deity by this might presignify to Pyrrhus, 
 that the city should remain inaccessible to him. 
 Pyrrhus answered, “ These visions may serve as 
 amusements for the vulgar, but there is not any- 
 thing in the world more uncertain and obscure. 
 While, then, you have your weapons in your 
 hands, remember, my friends — 
 
 The best of omens is the cause of Pyrrhus.” * 
 
 So saying, he arose, and as soon as it was light 
 renewed the attack. The Lacedaemonians stood 
 upon their defence with an alacrity and spirit 
 above their strength : and the women attended, 
 supplying them with arms, giving bread and 
 drink to such as wanted it, and taking care of 
 the wounded. The Macedonians then attempted 
 to fill up the ditch, bringing great quantities of 
 materials, and throwing them upon the arms and 
 bodies of the dead. The Lacedaemonians, on 
 their part, redoubled their efforts against them. 
 But all on a sudden Pyrrhus appeared on that 
 side of the trench, where the waggons had been 
 planted to stop the passage, advancing at full 
 speed towards the city. The soldiers who had 
 the charge of that post cried out, and the women 
 fled with loud shrieks and wailings. In the mean 
 time Pyrrhus was pushing on, and overthrowing 
 all that opposed him. But his horse received a 
 wound in the belly from a Cretan arrow, ran 
 away, and, plunging in the pains of death, threw 
 him upon steep and slippery ground. As his 
 friends pressed towards him in great confusion, 
 the Spartans came boldly up, and making good 
 use of their arrows, drove them all back. Here- 
 upon Pyrrhus put an entire stop to the action, 
 thinking the Spartans would abate of their vigour, 
 now they were almost all wounded, and such 
 great numbers killed. But the fortune of Sparta, 
 whether she was satisfied with the trial she had 
 of the unassisted valour of her sons, or whether 
 she was willing to show her power to retrieve the 
 most desperate circumstances, just as the hopes 
 of the Spartans were beginning to expire, brought 
 to their relief from Corinth Aminius the Phocean, 
 one of Antigonus’s officers, with an army of 
 strangers ; and they had no sooner entered the 
 town, but Areus their king arrived from Crete 
 with 2000 men more. The women now retired 
 immediately to their houses, thinking it needless 
 to concern themselves any farther in the way ; 
 the old men too, who, notwithstanding their age: 
 had been forced to bear arms, were dismissed, 
 and the new supplies put in their place. 
 
 These two reinforcements to Sparta served only 
 to animate the courage of Pyrrhus, and make 
 him more ambitious to take the town. Finding, 
 however, that he could effect nothing, after a 
 series of losses and ill success he quitted the siege, 
 and began to collect booty from the country, in- 
 tending to pass the winter there. But fate is 
 unavoidable. There happened at that time a 
 strong contention at Argos, between the parties 
 of Aristeas and Aristippus ; and as Aristippus 
 appeared to have a connection with Antigonus, 
 i^isteas, to prevent him, called in Pyrrhus, j 
 
 * Parody of a line in Hector’s speech, 11 . xii. j 
 
P3TThus, whose hopes grew as fast as they were 
 cut off, who, if he met with success, only con- 
 sidered it as a step to greater tilings, and if 
 »*ith disappointment endeavoured to compensate 
 it by ^me new ad\Tuitage, would neither let his 
 Wctories nor losses put a period to his disturbing 
 both the world and himself. He began his march, 
 therefore, immediately for Argos. Areus, by 
 . frequent ambushes, and by possessing himself 
 ' of ^e difficult passes, cut off many of the Gauls 
 ! and Molossians who brought up his rear. In 
 the sacrifice which PjTrhus had offered, the liver 
 \i’as found without a head, and the diviner had 
 thence forewarned him that he was in danger of 
 losing some person that was dear to him. But in 
 , the hurry and disorder of this une^ected attack, 
 
 ; he forgot the menace from the victim, and ordered 
 , his son Ptolemy with some of his guards to the 
 I assistance of the rear, whilst he himself poshed 
 j on, and disengaged his main body from those 
 j dangerous passages. In the mean time Ptolemy 
 met with a very warm reception ; for he was en- 
 gaged by a select party of Lacedaemonians, under 
 the command of Evalcus. In the heat of action, 
 a Cretan of Aptera, named Oroesus, a man of re- 
 markable strength and swiftness, came up with 
 the yoimg prince, as he was fighting v,-ith great 
 g allan try, and with a blow on the side laid Him 
 dead upon the spot. As soon as he fell, his party 
 turned their backs and fled. The Lacedaemonians 
 purged them, and in the ardour of \uctory, in- 
 sensibly advancing into the open plain, got at a 
 great distance from their infantry. P^urhus, who 
 by this time had heard of the death of his son, 
 and w^ greatly afflicted at it, drew out his 
 ^Molossian horse, and charging at the head of 
 them, satiated himself with the blood of the 
 Lacedmmonians. He always indeed appeared 
 great and invincible in arms, but now, in point 
 of courage and force, he outdid all 1^ former 
 e:^loits. Haying found out Evalcus, he spurred 
 horse against him : but Evalcus inclining a 
 little on one side, aimed a stroke at him w*hich 
 had like to have cut off bis bridle hand. It 
 happened, however, only to cut the reins, and 
 Pyrrhus seizing the favourable moment, ran him 
 tl^ugh with his spear. Then springing from 
 his horse, he fought on foot, and made a terrible 
 havoc of those brave Lacedaemonians who en- 
 deavoured to protect the body of Evalcus. The 
 great loss which Sparta suffered was now owing 
 purely to the ill-timed ambirlon of her leaders ; 
 for the war was at an end before the engagement. 
 
 P>=rrhus having thus sacrificed to the manes of 
 his son, and celebrated a kind of funeral games 
 for him, found that he had vented much of his 
 grief in the fury of the combat, and marched 
 more composed to Argos. Finding that Anti- 
 gonus kept the high grounds adjoining to the 
 plain, he encamped near the town of Nauplia. 
 Next day he sent a herald to Antigonus, with a 
 challenge in abusive terms to come dowm into the 
 field, and fight with him for the kingdom. Anti- 
 gonus said, “ Time is the weapon that I use, as 
 much as the sword ; and if Pjrrhus is weary of 
 his life, there are many ways to end it.” To both 
 the kings there came ambassadors from Argos, 
 entreating them to retire, and so prevent that 
 city from being subjected to either, which had 
 a friendship for them both. Antigonus agreed to 
 the overture, and sent his son to the Argives as 
 a hostage. PjTrhus at the same time promised 
 
 to retire, but sending no hostage, he was much 
 suspected. 
 
 Anudst these transactions, PjTrhus was alarmed 
 with a great and u*emendous prodigy. For the 
 heads of the sacrifice-oxen, when severed from 
 the bodies, were seen to thrust out their tongues, 
 and lick up their own gore. And in Argos the 
 pri^tess of Apollo Lyceus ran about the streets, 
 cr5ung out that she saw the city full of dead 
 carcases and blood, and an eagle joining in the 
 fight, and then immediately vanishing. 
 
 In the dead of night Pyrrhus approached the 
 walls, and finding the gate called Diamperes 
 opened to him by Aristeas, he was not discovered 
 till bis Gauls had entered and seized the market- 
 place. But the gate not being high enough to 
 receive the elephants, they were forced to take 
 off their towers ; and having afterwards put them 
 on again in the dark, it could not be done without 
 noise and loss of time, by which means they were 
 discovered. The Ar^ves ran into the citadel 
 called Aspis,^ and other places of defence, and 
 sent to call in Antigonus. But he only advanced 
 towards the walls to watch his opportunity for 
 action, and contented himself with sending in 
 some of his principal officers and his son v^Lth 
 considerable succours. 
 
 At the same time Areus arrived in the town 
 \iith looo Cretans, and the most active of his 
 Spartans. Ail these troops being joined, fell at 
 once upon the Gauls, and put them in great 
 disorder. P^Trhus entered at a place called 
 Cylarabzs,\ with great noise and loud shouts, 
 which were echoed bj’^the Gauls ; but he thought 
 their shouts were neither full nor bold, but rather 
 expressive cf terror and distress. He therefore 
 ad^^nced in great haste, pushing forward his 
 cavalry, though the5»^ marched in danger, bj” 
 reason of the drains and sewers of which the city 
 was fulL Besides, in this nociumal war, it was 
 impossible either to see what was done, or to hear 
 the orders that were given. The soldiers were 
 scattered about, and lost their way among the 
 narrow streets ; nor could the officers rally them 
 in that darkness, amidst such a variety of noises, 
 and in such straight passages ; so that both sides 
 continued without doing anything, and waited 
 for daylight. 
 
 At the first dawn P\Trhus was concerned to see 
 the Aspis full of armed men ; but his concern was 
 changed into consternation, when among the 
 many figures in the market-place he beheld a 
 wolf and a bull in brass represented in act to 
 
 * There was an annual feast at Argos, in 
 honour of Jtmo, called Hpata, yunonia^ and also 
 Hecatambia, from the hecatomb of oxen then 
 offered. Among other games, this prize was pro- 
 posed for the 5’^outh. In a place of considerable 
 strength above the theatre a brazen buckler was 
 nailed to the wall, and they were to try their 
 strength in plucking it off. The victor was 
 croTvTied with a myrtle garland, and had the 
 buckler [in Greek Aipis] for his pains. Hence 
 the name of the fort. Not orily the youth of 
 Argos, but strangers were admitted to the con- 
 test : as appears from Pindar. For, speaking of 
 Diagoias of Rhodes, he says — 
 
 The Argive buckler knew him . — O lymp. Ode 7. 
 
 t Cylarabis was a place of exercise near one of 
 the gates of Argos. Pausan. 
 
 2S0 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
PYRRHUS. 
 
 287 
 
 turned against the man who gave it, who was an 
 
 fight. For he recalled an old oracle which had 
 fi^etold, that it was his destiny to die when he 
 should see a wolf encountering a bull. The 
 Argives sa}% these figures were erected in memory 
 of ^ accident which happened among them long 
 before. They tell us, that when Danaus first 
 entered their countrj% as he passed through the 
 district of Th>n-eatis, by the way of Pyraima 
 which leads to Argos, he saw a wolf fighting with 
 a bull. Danaus imagined that the wolf repre- 
 sented him, for being a stranger he came to attack 
 the natives, as the wolf did the buU. He there- 
 fore stayed to see the issue of the fight, and the 
 wolf proving victorious, he ofiered his devotions 
 to Apollo Lyceus, and then assaulted and took 
 the town ; Gelanor, who was ^en king, being 
 dejxised by a faction. Such is the history of 
 those figures. 
 
 Pyrrhus, quite dispirited at the sight, and per- 
 ceiving at the same time that no thin g succeeded 
 according to his hopes, thought it best to retreat. 
 Fearing that the gates were too narrow, he sent 
 orders to his son Helenus, who was left with the 
 main body without the town, to demolish part of 
 the wall, and assist the retreat, if the enemy tried 
 to obstruct it. But the person whom he sent, 
 mistaking the order in the hurry and tumult, and 
 delivering it quite in a contir^' sense, the young 
 prince entered the gates with the rest 01 ^tne 
 elephants and the best of his troops, and m^hed 
 to assist his father. Pj-rrhus was now retiring ; 
 and while the market-place attorded room both 
 I to retreat and fight, he often laced about and 
 ; repulsed the assailants. But when from that 
 broad place he came to crowd into the narrow 
 i’ street leading to the gate, he fell in with those 
 j who were advancing to his assistance. It was in 
 ! vain to call out to them to fall back : there were 
 : but few that could hear him ; and such as did 
 hear, and were most disposed to obey his orders, 
 were pushed back by those who came pouring in 
 behind. Besides, the largest of the elephants 
 was fallen in the gateway on his side, and lying 
 there and braying in a horrible manner, he stopped 
 those who would have got out. And among the 
 elephants already in the town, one named Nicon, 
 striving to take up his master who was fallen off 
 wounded, rushed against the party that v^*as re- 
 treating : and overtmued both friends and enemies 
 promiscuously, till he found the body. Then he 
 took it up with his trunk, and carrynng it on his 
 two teeth, returned in great fiir^’^, and trod down 
 all before him. When they were thus pressed 
 and crowded together, not a man could do anj-- 
 thing singly, but the whole multitude, like one 
 close compacted body, rolled this way and that 
 all together. They exchanged but few blows 
 with the enemy either in front or rear, and the 
 greatest harm they did was to themselves. For 
 if any man drew his sword or levelled his pike, 
 he could not recover the one or put up the other ; 
 the ne.vt person, therefore, whoever he happened 
 to be, was necessarily wounded, and thus many 
 of them fell by the hands of each other. 
 
 P>*rrhus, seeing the tempest rolling about him, 
 took off the plume with which his helmet was 
 distinguished, and gave it to one of his friends. 
 Then trusting to the goodness of his horse, he 
 rode in amongst the enemy who were harassing 
 his rear ; and it happened that he was wounded 
 through the breastplate with a javelin. The 
 wound Vi*as rather slight than dangerous, but he 
 
 i Argive man of no note, the son of a poor old 
 ' woman. This woman, among others, looking j 
 upon the fight from the roof of a house, beheld | 
 her son thus engaged. Seized with terror at the ' 
 sight, she took up a large tile with both hands, I 
 and threw it at Pyrrhus. The tile fell upon his 
 head, and notwithstanding his helmet, crushed 
 the lower veriehrcs of his neck. Darkness, in a 
 moment, covered his eyes, his hands let go the 
 reins, and he fell from his horse by the tomb cf 
 LicjTnnius.* The crowd that was about him did 
 ; not know him, but one ZopjTus who £er\ ed under 
 ; Antigonus, and two or three others coming up, 
 
 ! knew him and dragged him into a porch that was 
 j at hand, just as he was beginning to recover from 
 the blow. ZopiTus had drawn his Illyrian blade 
 to cut off his head, when Pyrrhus opened his 
 e^^es, and gave him so fierce a look, that he was 
 struck with terror. His hands trembled, and 
 • betvH'een his desire to give the stroke, and the 
 confusion he was in, ha missed his neck, but 
 wounded, him in the mouth and chin, so that it 
 
 * There is something strikingly contemptible in 
 the fate of this ferocious warrior. WTiat reffec- 
 tions may it not afford to those scourges of man- 
 kind, who, to extend their power and gratify 
 their pride, tear out the ritals of human society ! 
 How unfortunate that they do not recollect their 
 own personal insignificance, and consider, while 
 they are disturbing the peace of the earth, that 
 they are beings whom an old woman may kill 
 with a stone ! It is impossible here to forget the 
 obscure fate of Charles XII., or the following 
 verses that describe it : 
 
 On what foundation stands the warrior s pride, 
 How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide ; 
 A frame of adamant, a soul of fire. 
 
 No dangers fright him, and no la^urs tire ; 
 
 O’er love, o’er fear, extends his wide do main , 
 Unconquer’d lord of pleasure and of pain ; 
 
 N o jo5"S to him pacific sceptres jneld. 
 
 War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field. 
 Behold surrounding langs their power combine. 
 And one capitulate and one resign: 
 
 Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in 
 vain. 
 
 “Think nothing gain’d,” he cries, “till nought 
 remain, 
 
 On Moscow’s walls till Gothic standards fly. 
 
 And all be mine beneath the polar skj\ ’ 
 
 The march begins in military- state, 
 
 And nations on his eye suspended wait. 
 
 Seem famine guards the solicaiy coast. 
 
 And winter barricades the realm of frost : 
 
 He comes — ^not want and cold his course delay — 
 Hide, blushing Glory, hide Pultowa s day 
 The vanquish’d hero leaves his broken bands. 
 And shows his miseries in distant lands. 
 Condemn’d a needy suppliant to wait. 
 
 While ladies interpose, and slaves debate. 
 
 But did not Chance at length her error mend ? 
 Did no subverted empire mark his end ? 
 
 Did ri\*al monarchs give the fatal wound ? 
 
 Or hostile millions press him to the ground ? 
 
 His fall was destined to a barren strand, 
 
 A petty fortress, and a dubious hand. 
 
 He l^t the name at which the world grew pale. 
 To point a moral, or adorn a tale I 
 
 Johnson. 
 
288 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 was a long time before he could separate the head 
 from the bod 3 ^ 
 
 By this time the thing was generally known, 
 and Alcyoneus, the son of Antigonus, came 
 hastily up, and asked for the head, as if he 
 wanted only to look upon it. But as soon as he 
 had got it he rode off with it to his father, and 
 c^t it at his feet as he was sitting with his 
 friends. Antigonus looking upon the head, and 
 knowing it, thrust his son from him ; and struck 
 him with his staflf, calling him an impious aud 
 b^barous wretch. Then putting his robe before 
 his eyes, he wept in remembrance of the fate of 
 his grandfather Antigonus,* and that of his 
 father Demetrius, two instances in his own 
 
 * Antigonus I. was killed at the battle of 
 Ipsus, and Demetrius I. long kept a prisoner by 
 his son-in-law Seleucus, 
 
 house of the mutability of fortune. As for the 
 head and body of Pyrrhus, he ordered them to 
 be laid in magnificent attire on the funeral pile 
 and burned. After this Alcyoneus having met 
 with Helenas in great distress and a mean garb, 
 addressed him in a courteous manner, and con- 
 ducted him to his father, who thus expressed 
 himself on the occasion : “ In this, my son, you 
 have acted much better than before ; but still 
 you are deficient ; for you should have taken off 
 that mean habit, which is a greater disgrace to 
 us who are victorious, than it is to the van- 
 quished.” 
 
 Then he paid his respects to Helenus in a 
 very obliging manner, and sent him to Epirus 
 with a proper equipage. He gave also the same 
 kind reception to the friends of Pyrrhus, after 
 he had made himself master of his whole camp 
 and army. 
 
 CAIUS MARIUS. 
 
 We know no third name of Caius Marius, any 
 more than we do of Quinctus Sertorious who 
 held Spain so long, or of Lucius Mummius who 
 took Corinth. For the surname of Achaicus 
 jNIummius gained by his conquest, as Scipio did 
 that of Africanus^ and Metellus that of Mace- 
 donicus — Posidonius avails himself chiefly of 
 this argument to confute those who hold the 
 third to be the Roman proper name, Camillus, 
 for instance, Marcellus, Cato : for in that case, 
 those who had only two names, would have had 
 no proper name at all. But he did not consider 
 that by this reasoning he robbed the women of 
 their names ; for no woman bears the first, which 
 Posidonius supposed the proper name among 
 the Romans. Of the other names, one was 
 common to the whole family, as the Pompeii, 
 ^lanlii, Comelii, in the same manner as with us, 
 the Heraclidae and Pelopidae ; and the other was 
 a surname given them from something remark- ! 
 able in their dispositions, their actions, or the ^ 
 form of their bodies, as Macrinus, Torquatus, 
 Sylla, which -are like Mnemon, Grypus, and 
 Callinicus, among the Gi'eeks. But the diversity 
 of customs in this respect leaves much room for 
 farther inquiry.! 
 
 t The Romans had usually three names, the 
 Prcenomen^ the No7nen, and the Cognomen. 
 
 The PrcBnome7i, as Aulus, Caius, Decimus, 
 was the proper or distinguishing name between 
 brothers, during the time of the republic. 
 
 The No7nen was the family name, answering 
 to the Grecian patronymics. For, as among the 
 Greeks, the posterity of iEacus were called 
 .^acidse, so the Julian family had that name 
 from lulus or Ascanius. But there were several 
 other things which gave rise to the No77ie7i^ as 
 animals, places, and accidents ; for instance, 
 Porcius, Ovilius, etc. 
 
 The Cognome7i was originally intended to dis- 
 tinguish the several branches of a family. It 
 was assumed from no certam cau.se, but gene- 
 rally from some particular occurrence. It be- | 
 came, however, hereditary, except it happened : 
 to be changed for a more honourable appella- 
 tion, ss Macedonicus, Africanus. But it should 
 be well remarked, that under the emperors the 
 
 1 As to the figure of Maiius, we have seen at 
 ' Ravenna in Gaul his statue in marble, which 
 , perfectly expressed all that has been said of his 
 I sternness and austerity of behaviour. For being 
 i naturally robust and’ warlike, and more ac- 
 j quainted with the discipline of the camp than 
 ; the city, he was fierce and untractable when in 
 j authority. It is said that he neither learned to 
 ! read Greek, nor would make use of that language 
 I on any serious occasion, thinking it ridiculous to 
 I bestow time on learning the language of a con- 
 I quered people. And when, after his second 
 triumph, at the dedication of a temple, he ex- 
 hibited shows to the people in the Grecian 
 manner, he barely entered the theatre and sat 
 down, an^ then rose up and departed imme- 
 diately. Therefore, as Plato used to say to 
 Xenocrates the philosopher, who had a morose 
 and _ unpolished manner, “ Good Xenocrates, 
 sacrifice to the Graces ; ” so if any one could 
 have persuaded Marius to pay his court to the 
 Grecian Muses and Graces, he had never 
 brought his noble achievements, both in war 
 and peace, to so shocking a conclusion ; he had 
 i never been led, by unseasonable ambition and 
 j insatiable avarice, to split upon the rocks of a 
 ! savage and cruel old age. But this will soon 
 j appear from his actions themselves. 
 
 1 His parents were obscure and indigent people, 
 
 : who supported themselves by labour ; his father s 
 ; name was the same with his ; Jiis mother was 
 
 Cog7io77ien was often used as a proper name, and 
 brothers v/ere distinguished by it, as Titus 
 Flavius Vespasianus, and Titus Flavius Sabinus. 
 
 As to women, they had anciently their Prce- 
 no77ten as well as the men, such as Caia, Lucia, 
 etc. But afterwards they seldom used any other 
 besides the family name, as Julia, Tullia, and 
 the like. Where there were two sisters in a 
 house, the distinguishing appellations were 
 major and minor ; if a greater number, Prima, 
 Secunda, Tertia, etc. 
 
 With respect to the men who had only two 
 names, a family might be so mean as not to have 
 gained the Cognomen ; or there might be so few 
 of the family, that there was no occasion for it to 
 distinguish the branches. 
 
CAIUS MARIUS, 
 
 called Fulcinia. It was late before he came to 
 Kome, or had any taste of the refinements of the 
 city. In the mean time he lived at C.rrceatum,* 
 a village in the territory of Arpinum : and his 
 manner of living there was perfectly rustic, if 
 compared with the elegance of polished life; but 
 at the same time it was temperate, and much 
 resembled that of the ancient Romans. 
 
 He made his first campaign against the Celti- 
 berians,t when Scipio Africanus besieged Nu- 
 mantia. It did not escape his general how far 
 he was above the other young soldiers in 
 courage ; nor how easily he came into the re- 
 lormation in point of diet, which Scipio intro- 
 duced into the army, before almost ruined by 
 luxury and pleasure. It is said, also, that he 
 encountered and killed an enemy in the sight of 
 his general, who therefore distinguished him 
 " marks of honour and respect, one of 
 
 whicn was the invfiting him to his table. One 
 evening the conversatic n happening to turn upon 
 the great commanders then in being, some person 
 m the company, either out of complaisance to 
 bcipio or because he really wanted to be in- 
 I lormed, asked where the Romans should find 
 such another general when he was gone ? upon 
 wnich Scipio, putting his hand on the shoulder 
 ot Manus, who sat next him, said, “ Here, per- 
 haps. So happy was the genius of both those 
 great men, that the one, while but a youth, gave 
 tokens of his future abilities, and the other from 
 those beginnings could discover the long series 
 of glory which was to follow. 
 
 Ihis saying of Scipio’s, we are told, raised the 
 Impes of Marius, like a diN-ine oracle, and was 
 the chief thing that animated him to apply him- 
 ^it to affairs of state. By the assistance of 
 Caecihus Metellus, on whose house he had an 
 Jiereditary dependence, he was chosen a tribune 
 oi the people. J In this office he propiosed a law 
 lor regulating the manner of voting, which 
 tended to lessen the authority of the patricians 
 m matters of judicature. Cotta the consul, 
 therefore, persuaded the senate to reject it, and 
 to cite Marius to give account of his conduct 
 buch a decree being made, Marius, when he 
 entered the senate, showed not the embarrass- 
 ment of a j'oung man advanced to office without 
 having first distinguished himself, but assuming 
 beforehand the elevation which his future actions 
 were to give him, he threatened to send Cotta to 
 prison, if he did not revoke the decree. Cotta 
 turning to Metellus, and asking his opinion 
 Metellus rose up and voted with the consul. 
 Hereupon Marius called in a lictor, and ordered 
 him to take Metellus into custody. Metellus 
 appealed to the other tribunes, but as not one 
 ot them lent him any assistance, the senate gave 
 way and repealed their decree. Marius, highly 
 distinguished by tnis victory, went immediately 
 
 289 
 
 fhl A, of Ceyyteium. Pliny tells us 
 
 the inhabitants of Cernetum were called May-i- 
 undoubtedly from Marius their townsman, 
 ho had distinguished himselt in so extraordinary 
 a manner. Plin. lib. iii. c. 5. ^ 
 
 ^ hundred and sixty- 
 
 Chris°^^^“^'^ ' ^33 years before the birth of 
 
 Chri^°^ hundred and seventeen years before 
 
 from the senate to the /o rum, and had his law 
 confirmed by the people. 
 
 h rom this time he passed for a man of in- 
 flexible resolution, not to be influenced by fear 
 or re.spect of persons, and consequently one that 
 would prove a bold defender of the peonle’s 
 privileges against the senate. But this opinion 
 was soon altered by his taking quite a different 
 part, for a law bemg proposed conceiming the 
 distribution of com, he strenuously opposed the 
 plebeians, and carried it against them. Bv 
 which action he gained equal esteem from both 
 parties, as a person incapable of serving either 
 against the public advantage. 
 
 When his tribunesffip was expired, he stood 
 candidate for the otiice of chief mdile. For 
 there are two offices of cediles ; the one called 
 C2i^hs,ixoxQ. the chair with crooked feet, in 
 which the magistrate sits while he despatches 
 business; the other, of a degree much inferior. 
 IS called the cedile. The more honour- 
 able aediles are first chosen, and then the people 
 proceed the same day to the election of the 
 other. When Marius found he could not cany- 
 the first, he dropped his pretensions there, and 
 immediately applied for the second. But as this 
 proceeding of his betrayed a disagreeable and 
 importunate obstinacy, he miscarried in that 
 also Yet though he was twice baffled in his 
 application in one day (which never happened to 
 any man but himself), he was not at all dis- 
 couraged. For, not long after, he stood for the 
 l^aetorship, and was near being rejected ao^ain 
 He was, indeed, returned last of all, and then 
 was accused of briber>% What contributed most 
 to the suspicion, was, a ser\'ant of Cassius 
 babaco being seen within the rails, among the 
 electors ; for Sabaco was an intimate friend of 
 - l^ius. He was summoned, therefore, by the 
 judges ; and, being interrogated upon the point, 
 he said that the heat having made him very 
 thu-sty, he asked for cold water ; upon which his 
 servant brought him a cup, and wnthdrew as 
 soon as he had drank. Sabaco was expelled the 
 senate by the next censors,* and it was thoucrht 
 he deseiA-ed that mark of infamy, as having h%en 
 ^iilty either of falsehood or intemjjerance. 
 Uaius Herennius was also cited as a witness 
 against Manus ; but he alleged, that it was not 
 customary for patrons (so the Romans call pro- 
 tectore.i to give evidence against their clients, 
 and th^ the law excused them from that oblic^a- 
 Tr were going to admit the piea 
 
 when Marius himself opposed it, and told 
 Herennius, that when he was first created a 
 magistrate, he ceased to be his client. But this 
 ^^*^°§^*^her true. For it is not every 
 office that frees clients and their posterity from 
 the service due to their patrons, but only those 
 magistracies to which the law gives a ciimde 
 chair. Marius, however, during the first days 
 of tnal, found that matters ran against him. his 
 judges being very unfavourable ; yet, at last, 
 the votes proved equal, and he was acquitted 
 beyond expectation. 
 
 In his prptorship he did nothing to raise him 
 to distinction. But. at the expiration of this 
 office, the farther Spain falling to his lot, he is 
 said to have cleared it of robbers. That pro- 
 
 * Probably he had one of his slaves to vote 
 among the freemen. 
 
 U 
 
290 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 vince as yet was uncivilized and savage in its 
 manners, and the Spaniards thought there was 
 nothing dishonourable in robbery. At his re- 
 turn to Rome, he was desirous to have his share 
 in the administration, but had neither riches nor 
 eloquence to recommend him ; though these 
 were the instruments by which the great men of 
 those times gov'erned the people. His high 
 spirit, however, his indefatigable industry, and 
 plain manner of living, recommended him so 
 effectually to the commonalty, that he gained 
 offices, and by offices power : so that he was 
 thought worthy the alliance of the Caesars, and 
 married Julia of that illustrious family. Caesar, 
 who afterwards raised himself to such eminence, 
 was her nephew, and on account of his relation 
 to Marius, showed himself very solicitous for 
 his honour, as we have related in his life. 
 
 Marius, along with his temperance, was pos- 
 sessed of great fortitude in enduring pain. There 
 was an extraordinary proof of this, in his bearing 
 an operation in surgery. Having both his legs 
 full of wens, and being troubled at the deformity, 
 he determined to put himself in the hands of a 
 surgeon. He would not be bound, but stretched 
 out one of his legs to the knife ; and without 
 motion or groan, bore the inexpressible pain of 
 the operation in silence and with a settled coun- 
 tenance. But when the surgeon was going to 
 begin with the other leg, he would not suffer him, 
 saying, “ I see the cure is not worth the pain.” 
 
 About this time Cajcilius Metellus the consul,* 
 being appo nted to the chief command in the war 
 against Jugurtha, took Marius with him into 
 Africa as one of his lieutenants. Marius, now 
 finding an opportunity for great actions and 
 glorious toils, took no care, like his colleagues, to 
 contribute to the reputation of Metellus, or to 
 direct his views to his service ; but concluding 
 that he was called to the lieutenancy, not by 
 Metellus but by Fortune, who had opened him an 
 easy way and a noble theatre for great achieve- 
 ments, exerted all his powers. That war pre- 
 senting many critical occasions, he neither de- 
 clined the most difficult service, nor thought the 
 most servile beneath him. Thus surpassing his 
 equals in prudence and foresight, and contesting 
 it with the common soldiers m abstemiousness and 
 labour, he entirely gained their affections. For it 
 is no small consolation to any one who is obliged 
 to work, to see another voluntarily take a share 
 in his labour ; since it seems to take off the 
 constraint. There is not, indeed, a more agreeable 
 spectacle to a Roman soldier, than that of his 
 general eating the same dry bread which he eats, 
 or lying on an ordinary bed, or assisting his men 
 in drawing a trench or throwing up a bulwark. 
 For the soldier does not so much admire those 
 officers who let him share in their honour or their 
 money, as those who will partake with him in 
 labour and danger ; and he is more attached to 
 one that will assist him in his work, than to one 
 who will indulge him in idleness. 
 
 By these steps Marius gained the hearts of the 
 soldiers ; his glory, his influence, his reputation, 
 j spread through Africa, and extended even to 
 
 Rome : the men under his command wrote to 
 their friends at home, that the only means of 
 putting an end to the war in those parts, would be 
 to elect Marius consul. This occasioned no small 
 anxiety to Metellus, but what distressed him 
 most was the affair of Turpilius. This man and 
 his family had long been retainers to that of 
 Metellus, and he attended him in that war in the 
 character of master of the artificers, but being, 
 through his interest, appointed governor of the 
 large town of Vacca, his humanity to the inhabi- 
 tants and the unsuspecting openness of his con- 
 duct, gave them an opportunity of delivering up 
 the place to Jugurtha.* Turpilius, however, 
 suffered no injury in his person ; for the inhabi- 
 tants, having prevailed upon Jugurtha to spare 
 him, dismissed him in safety. On this account he 
 was accused of betraying the place. Marius, 
 who was one of the council of war. was not only 
 severe upon him himself, but stirred up most of 
 the other judges ; so that it was carried against 
 the opinion of Metellus, and much against his 
 will he passed sentence of death upon him. A 
 little after, the accusation appeared a false one ; 
 and all the other officers sympathized with 
 Metellus, who was overwhelmed with sorrow : 
 while Marius, far from dissembling his joy, 
 declared the thing was his doing, and was not 
 ashamed to acknowledge in all companies, that 
 he had lodged an avenging fury in the breast of 
 Met llus, who would not fail to punish him for 
 having put to death the hereditary friend of his 
 family. 
 
 They now became open enemies ; and one day 
 when Marius was by, we are told, that Metellus 
 said by way of insult, “ You think, then, my good 
 friend, to leave us, and go home, to solicit the 
 consulship : would you not be contented to stay 
 and be consul with this son of mine?” The son 
 of Metellus was then very young. Notwith- 
 standing this, Marius still kept applying for leave 
 to be gone, and Metellus found out new pretences 
 for delay. At last, when there wanted only 
 twelve days to the election, he di.smissed him. 
 Marius had a long journey from the camp to 
 Utica, but he despatched it in two days and a 
 night. At his arrival on the coast he offered 
 .sacrifice be ore he embarked ; and the diviner is 
 said to have told him, that heaven announced 
 success superior to all his hopes. Elevated with 
 this promise, he set sail, and, having a fair wind, 
 crossed the sea in four days. The people imme- 
 diately expressed their inclination for him ; and 
 being introduced by one of their tribunes, he 
 brought many false charges against Metellus, in 
 order to secuie the consulship for himself ; pro- 
 mising at the same time either to kill Jugurtha or 
 to take him alive. 
 
 He was elected with great applause, and imme- 
 diately began his levies ; in which he observed 
 neither law nor custom ; for he enlisted many 
 needy persons, and even slaves. t The generals 
 that were before him, had not admitted .such as 
 these, but intrusted only persons of property 
 with arms as with other honours, considering that 
 property as a pledge to the public for their 
 
 * Q. Csecilius Metellus was consul with his 
 Junius Silanus, the fourth year of the one hundred 
 and sixty-seventh olympiad, 107 years before the 
 birth of Christ. In this expedition he acquired 
 the surname of N umidicus. 
 
 • They put the Roman garrison to the sword, 
 sparing none but Turpilius. 
 
 t Florus does not .say he enlisted slaves, but 
 capite censos, such as having no estates, had only 
 their names entered in the registers. 
 
behaviour. Nor was this the only obnoxious 
 thing in Marius. His bold speeches, accompanied 
 with insolence and ill manners, gave the patricians 
 great uneasiness. For he scrupled not to say, 
 that he had taken the consulate as a prey from 
 the effeminacy of the high-born and the rich, and 
 that he boasted to the people of his own wounds, 
 not the images of others or monuments of the 
 dead. He took frequent occasion, too, to 
 mention Bestia and Albinus, generals who had 
 been mostly unfortunate in Africa, as men of 
 illustrious families, but unfit for war, and conse- 
 quently unsuccessful through want of capacity. 
 A hen he would ask the people, whether they 
 did not think that the ancestors of those men 
 would have wished rather to leave a posterity 
 like him ; since they themselves did not rise to 
 glory by their high birth, but by their virtue and 
 great actions. 'Ihese things he said not out of 
 mere vanity and arrogance, or needlessly to 
 embroil himself with the nobility ; but he saw the 
 people took pleasure in seeing the senate insulted, 
 and that they nieasured the greatness of a man’s 
 mind by the insolence of his language ; and 
 therefore, to gratify them, he spared not the 
 greatest men in the state. 
 
 Upon his arrival in Africa, Metellus was quite 
 overcome with grief and resentment, to think that 
 when he had in a manner finished the war, and 
 there remained nothing to take but the person of 
 Jugurtha, Marius, who had raised himself merely 
 by his ingratitude towards him, should come to 
 snatch away both his victory and triumph Un 
 able, therefore, to bear the sight of him, he retired, 
 and left his lieutenant Rutilius to deliver up the 
 forces to Manus. But berbre the end of the war 
 the divine vengeance overtook Marius. For Sylla 
 robbed him ot the glory of his exploits, as he had 
 done Metellus. I shall briefly relate here the 
 manner of that transaction, having already given 
 a more particular account of it in the life of Sylla. 
 
 ^ Bocchus, king of the upper N umidia, was father- 
 in-law to Jugurtha. He gave him, however, very 
 little assKstance in the war, pretending that he 
 detes^ted his perfidiousness, while he really 
 dreaded the increase of his power. But when 
 he became a fugitive and a wanderer, and was 
 reduced to the necessity of applying to Bocchus 
 as ms last resource, that prince received him 
 wu®*' P f suppliant than as his son-in-law 
 When he had him in his hands, he proceeded 
 in public to intercede with Marius in his behalf 
 
 ^ . — witii lYActiius III ms oenait, 
 
 alleging in his letters, that he would never give 
 him up, but defend him to the last. At the same 
 time m private intending to betray him, he sent 
 Sy/Ja, who was quaestor to Marius, 
 and had done Bocchus many services during the 
 war. When Sylla was come to him, confiding 
 in his honour, the barbarian began to repent, and 
 often changed his mind, deliberating for some 
 days whether he should deliver up Jugurtha 
 or retain Sylla too. At last, adhering to the 
 treachery he had first conceived, he put Jugur- 
 th^ alive, into the hands of Sylla. 
 
 Uence the first seeds of that violent and im- 
 placable quarrel, which almost ru ned the Roman 
 empire. 1-or many, out of envy to Marius, were 
 
 TnH "I 11° to Sylla only ; 
 
 and Sylla himself caused a seal to be made, 
 which represented Bocchus delivering up Jugur- 
 tha to him. ™s seal he always wore, Ind 
 constantly sealed his letters with it ; by which 
 
 he highly provoked Marius, who was naturally 
 ambitiou.s, and could not endure a rival in glory 
 Sylla was instigated to this by the enemies of 
 Marius, who ascribed the beginning and the 
 most considerable actions of the war to Metellus 
 and tne la.st and finishing stroke to Sylla ; that 
 so the people might no longer admire and remain 
 attached to Marius as the most accomplished of 
 commanders. 
 
 The danger, however, that approached Italy 
 from the west, soon dispersed all the envy the 
 hatred, and the calumnies, which had been raised 
 against Marius. The people, now in want of an 
 experienced commander, and searching for an 
 able plot p sit at the helm, that the common- 
 wealth might bear up against so dreadful a storm 
 found that no one of an opulent or noble family 
 would stand for the consulship; and therefore 
 they elected Manus,* though absent. They had 
 no soonp received the news that Jugurtha was 
 pken than reports were spread of an invasion 
 from the leutones and the Cimbri. And thou rfi 
 the account of the number and strength of their 
 armies seemed at first incredible, it afterwards 
 appeared short of the truth. For 300,000 well- 
 armed warriors were upon the march, and the 
 women and children, whom they had along with 
 mem, were said to be much more numerous, 
 ihis vast multitude wanted lands on which they 
 rnight subsist, and cities wherein to settle : as 
 they had hem-d the Celtae, before them, had 
 expelled the Tuscans, and possessed themselves 
 of the best ppt of Italy.f As for these, who 
 now hovered like a cloud over Gaul and Italy it 
 was not known who they were.J or whence they 
 came, on account of the small commerce which 
 they had with the rest of the world, and the 
 length of way they had marched. It was con- 
 jectured indeed, from the largeness of their stature, 
 and the blueness of their eyes, as well as because 
 the Germans call banditti cbjtbri, that they were 
 some of those German nations who dwell by the 
 Northern Sea. 
 
 Some assert, that the country of the Celtse is 
 of such vast extent, that it stretches from the 
 Westero ocean and most northern climes, to the 
 lake Maotis eastward, and that part of Scythia 
 which borders upon Pontus : that there the two 
 nations mingle, and thence issue ; not all at 
 once, nor at all seasons, but in the spring of every 
 year : tlmt, by means of these annual supplies 
 they had gradually opened themselves a way over 
 the greatest part of the European continent ; and 
 that, though they are distinguished by different 
 names according to their tribes, yet their whole 
 
 * One hundred and two years before Christ, 
 t In the reign of Tarquinius Priscus. 
 i The Cimbri were descended from the ancient 
 Gomerians or Celtes ; Cimri or Cymbri beino- 
 only a harsher pronunciation of Gomerai. They 
 were in all probability the ancientest people of 
 Germany. They gave their name to the Cim- 
 brica Chersonesus, which was a kind of peninsula 
 extending from the mouth of the river Elbe into 
 the north sea. They were all supposed the same 
 w.th the Cimmerians that inhabited the countries 
 about the Palus Maeotis : which is highly pro- 
 bable, both from the likeness of their names, and 
 from the descendants of Corner having spread 
 themselves over ail that northern tract. 
 
292 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 body is comprehended under the general name of 
 Celto-Scythse, 
 
 Otners say, they were a small part of the 
 Cimmerians, well known to the ancient Greeks ; 
 and that this smail part, quitting their native 
 soil, or being expelled by the Scythians on 
 account of some sedition, passed from the Palus 
 Mseotis into Asia, under the conduct of Lygdarnis 
 their chief. But that the greater and more war- 
 like part dwelt in the extremities of the earth 
 near the Northern sea. These inhabit a country 
 so dark and woody that the sun is seldom seen, 
 by reason of the many high and spreading trees, 
 which reach inward as tar as the Hercynian 
 forest. They are under that part of the heavens, 
 where the elevation of the pole is such, that by 
 reason of the declination of the parallels, it makes 
 almost a vertical point to the inhabitants ; and 
 their day and night are of such a length, that 
 they serve to divide the year into two equal 
 parts ; which gave occasion to the fiction of 
 Homer concerning the infernal regions. 
 
 Hence thereiore these barbarians, who came 
 into Italy, first issued ; being anciently called 
 Cimmerii, afterwards Cimbri ; and the appella- 
 tion was not at all from their manners. But 
 these things rest rather on conjecture than his- 
 torical certainty. Most historians, however, 
 agree, that their numbers, instead of being less, 
 were rather greater than we have related. As 
 to their courage, their spirit, and the force and 
 vivacity with which they made an impression, 
 we may compare them to a devouring flame, 
 Nothing could resist their impetuosity ; all that 
 came in their way, were trodden down, or driven 
 before them like cattle. Many respectable armies 
 and generals * employed by the Romans to guard 
 the i'ransalpine Gaul, were shametully routed ; 
 and the feeble resistance they made to the first 
 elforts of the barbarians, was the chief thing that 
 drew them towards Rome. For, having beaten 
 all they met, and loaded themselves with plunder, 
 they determined to settle nowhere, till they had 
 destroyed Rome, and laid waste all Italy. • 
 The Romans, alarmed from all quarters with 
 this news, called Marius to the command, and 
 elected him a second time consul. It was, in- 
 deed, unconstitutional for any one to be chosen 
 who was absent, or who had not waited the 
 regular time between a first and second consul- 
 ship ; but the people overruled all that was said 
 against him. They c-,nsidered, that this was not 
 the first instance in which the law had given way 
 to the public utility ; nor was the present occasion 
 less urgent than that, when, contrary to law,t 
 they made Scipio consul ; for then they were not 
 anxious for the safety of their own country, but 
 only desirous ot destroying Carthage. Ihese 
 reasons prevailing, Marius returned with his 
 army from Africa, and entering upon his consul- 
 ship on the first of January, which the Romans 
 reckon the beginning of their year, led up his 
 triumph the same day. Jugurtha, now a captive, 
 was a spectacle as agreeable to the Romans, as 
 it was beyond their expectation ; no one having 
 
 Cassius Longinus, Aurelius, Scaurus, Csepio, 
 and Cn. Malleius. 
 
 t Scipio was elected consul before he was thirty 
 years old, though the common age required in 
 the candidates was forty-two. Indeed, the people 
 dispensed with it in other instances besides this. 
 
 ever imagined that the war could be brought to 
 a period while he was alive : so various was the 
 character of that man, that he knew how to 
 accommodate himsell to all sorts of lortune, and 
 through all his subtlety there ran a vein of 
 courage and spirit. It is said, that when he was 
 led before the car of the conqueror, he lost his 
 senses. After the triumph, he was thrown into 
 orison, where, whilst they were in haste to strip 
 iim, some tore his robe off his back, and others 
 catching eagerly at his pendants, pulled off the 
 tips of his ears with them. When he was thrust 
 down naked into the dungeon, all wild and con- 
 fused, he said with a frantic smile, “ Heavens ! 
 how cold is this bath of yours ! ” There strug- 
 gling for six days with extreme hunger, and to 
 the last hour labouring for the preservation of 
 life, he came to such an end as his crimes de- 
 served. There were carried (we are told) in this 
 triumph, 3007 pounds of gold, 5775 silver bullion, 
 
 and of silver coin 17,028 drachmas. 
 
 After the solemnity was over, Marius assembled 
 the senate in the Capitol, where, either through 
 inadvertency or gross insolence, he entered in his 
 triumphal robe ; but soon perceiving that the 
 senate was offended, he went and put on his or" 
 dinary habit, and then returned to his place. 
 
 When he set out with the army, he trained his 
 soldiers to labour while upon the road, accustom- 
 ing them to long and tedious marches, and com- 
 pelling every man to carry his own baggage, and 
 provide his own victuals. So that aiterwards 
 laborious people, who executed readily and with- 
 out murmuring whatever they were ordered were 
 called Marius's vtules. Some, indeed, give 
 another reason for this proverbial saying. .Tfiey 
 say, that when Scipio besieged Numantia, he 
 chose to inspect, not only the arms and horses, 
 but the very mules and waggons, that all might 
 be in readiness and good order ; on which occa- 
 sion Marius brought forth his horse in fine con- 
 dition, and his mule too in better case, and 
 stronger and gentler than those of others. The 
 general, much pleased with Marius s beasts, often 
 made mention of . them ; and hence those who 
 by way of raillery praised a drudging patient 
 man, called him Marius’s mule. 
 
 On this occasion, it was a very fortunate cir- 
 cumstance for Marius, that the barbarians, 
 turning their course, like a reflux of the tide, first 
 invaded Spam. For this gave him time to 
 strengthen his men by exercise, and to raise mid 
 confirm their courage ; and, what was still of 
 greater importance, to show them what he him- 
 setf was. His severe behaviour, and inflexibility 
 in punishing, when it had once accustomed them 
 to mind their conduct and be obedient, appeared 
 both just and salutary. When they were a little 
 used to his hot and violent spirit, to the h a'sh 
 tone of h s voice, and the fierceness of his coun- 
 tenance, they no longer considered him as terrible 
 to themselves but to the enemy. Above all, the 
 soldiers were charmed with his integrity in 
 judging : and this contributed not a little to pro- 
 cure Marius a third consulate. Besides, the 
 barbarians were expected in the spring, and the 
 people were not willing to meet them under any 
 other general. They did not, however, come so 
 soon as they were looked for, and the year ex- 
 pired without his getting a sight of them. The 
 time of a new election coming on, and his col- 
 league being dead, Marius left the command of 
 
CAIUS MARIUS. 
 
 293 ' 
 
 the army to Manius Aquilius, and went himself 
 to Rome. Several persons of great merit stood 
 for the consulate ; but Lucius Satuminus, a tri- 
 bune who led the people, being gained by Marius, 
 in all his speeches exhorted them to chose him 
 consul. Marius, for his part, desired to be ex- 
 cused, pretending that he did not want the office : 
 whereupon Satuminus called him a traitor to his 
 country, who deserted the command in such time 
 of danger. It was not difficult to perceive that 
 Marius dissembled, and that the tribune acted a 
 bungling part under him ; yet the people con- 
 sidering that the present juncture required both 
 his capacity and good fortune, created him consul 
 a fourth time, and appointed Lutatius Catalus 
 his colleague, a man much esteemed by the pa- 
 tricians, and not unacceptable to the commons. 
 
 Marius being in ormed of the enemy's approach, 
 passed the Alps with the utmost expedition ; and 
 having marked out his camp by the river Rhone, 
 fortified it, and brought into it a large supply of 
 provisions ; that the want of necessaries might 
 never compel him to fight at a disadvantage. 
 But as the carriage of provisions by sea was 
 tedious and very expensive, he found a way to 
 make it easy and very expeditious. The mouth 
 of the Rhone was at that time choked up with 
 mud and sand, which the beating of the sea had 
 lodged there ; so that it was very dangerous, if 
 not impracticable, for vessels of burden to enter 
 it. Marius, therefore, set his army, now quite 
 at leisure, to work there ; and having caused a 
 cut to be made capable of receiving large ships, 
 he turned great part of the river into it ; thus 
 drawing it to a coast, where the opening to the 
 sea is easy and secure. This cut still retains his 
 name. 
 
 The barbarians dividing themselves into two 
 bodies, it fell to the lot of the Cimbri to march 
 the upper way through Noricum against Catalus," 
 and to force that pass ; while the Teutones and 
 Ambrones took the road through Liguria along 
 the sea-coast, in order to reach Marius. The 
 Cimbri spent some time in preparing ior their 
 niarch : but the Teutones and Ambrones set out 
 immediately, and pushed forward with great ex- 
 pedition ; so that they soon traversed the inter- 
 mediate country, and presented to the view of 
 the Romans an incredible number of enemies, 
 terrible in their aspect, and in their voice and 
 shouts of war different from all other men. They 
 spread themselves over a vast extent of ground 
 near Marius, and when they had encamped, they 
 challenged him to battle. 
 
 The consul, for his part, regarded them not, 
 but kept his soldiers within the trenches, rebuking 
 the vanity and rashness of those who wanted to 
 be in action, and calling them traitors to their 
 country. He told them their ambition should 
 not now be for triumphs and trophies, but to 
 dispel the dreadful storm that hung over them, 
 and to save Italy from destruction. These things 
 he said privately to his chief officers and men of 
 the first rank. As for the common soldiers, he 
 made them mount guard by turns upon the ram- 
 parts, to accustom them to bear the dreadful 
 looks of the enemy, and to hear their savage 
 voices without fear, as well as to make them 
 acquainted with their arms, and their way of 
 using them. By these means, what at first was 
 terrible, by being often looked upon, would in 
 time become unaffecting. For he concluded. 
 
 that with regard to objects of terror, novelty adds 
 many unreal circumstances, and that things really 
 dreadful lose their effect by familiarity. Indeed, 
 the daiiy sight of the barbarians not only lessened 
 the fears of the soldiers, but the menacing be- 
 haviour and intolerable vanity of the enemy, pro- 
 voked their resentment, and inflamed their 
 courage. For they not only plundered and 
 ruined the adjacent country, but advanced to the ! 
 very trenches with* the greatest insolence and 
 contempt. 
 
 Marius at last was told, that the soldiers vented 
 their grief in such complaints as these : “ What 
 effeminacy has Marius discovered in us, that he ■ 
 thus keeps us locked up, like so many women, ! 
 and restrains us :rom fighting ? Come on ; let us j 
 with the spirit of free men, ask him if he waits j 
 for others to fight for the liberiies of Rome, and ■ 
 intends to make use of us only as the vilest 1 
 labourers, in digging trenches, in carrying out j 
 loads of dirt, and turning the course of rivers? i 
 It is for such noble works as these, no doubt, ! 
 that he exercises us in such painful labours ; and, i 
 when they are done, he will return and show his 
 feUow-citizens the glorious fruits of the continu- . 
 ation of his power. It is true, Carbo and Caepio 
 were beaten by the enemy: but does their ill 
 success terrify him? Surely Carbo and Caepio . 
 were generals as much inferior to Marius in 1 
 valour and renown, as we are superior to the army 
 they led. Better it were to be in action, though I 
 we suffered from it hke them, than to sit still and ! 
 see the destruction of our allies.” 
 
 Marius, delighted w'ith these speeches, talked i 
 to them in a soothing w'ay. He told them it ' 
 w^ not from any distrust of them that he sat 
 still, but that, by order of certain oracles, he • 
 waited both for the time and place which were to ' 
 ensure him the victory. For he had wiih him a 
 Syrian wonmn, named Martha, who was said to 
 have the gift of prophec;^. She was carried about 
 in a litter with great respect and solemnity, and ’ 
 the sacrifices he offered were ail by her direction. 
 She had formerly applied to the senate in this 
 character, and made an offer of predicting for 1 
 them future events, but they refused to hear her. 
 Then she betook herself to the women, and gave 
 them a specimen of her art. She addressed her- ' 
 self particularly to the wife of Marius, at whose 
 feet she happened to sit, when there was a com- 
 bat of gladiators, and fortunately enough, told ! 
 her which of them W'ould prove victorious. ! 
 Marius’s wife sent her to her husband, who re- j 
 ceived her with the utmost ve eration, and pro- ■ 
 vided for her the litter in which she was generalH* 
 earned. When she w'ent to sacnfice, she wore a 
 purple robe, lined with the same, and buttoned 
 up, and held in her hand a spear adorned with 
 ribbands and garlands. Wlien they saw this 
 pompous scene, many doubted whether Marius 
 was really persuaded of her prophetic abilities, 
 or only pretended to be so, and acted a part, 
 while he showed the woman in this form. 
 
 But what Alexander of Myndos relates con- 
 cerning the vultures really deserves admiration. 
 Two of them, it seems, always appeared, and 
 followed the army, before any great success, 
 being well known by their brazen collars. The 
 soldiers, when they took them, had put these 
 collars upon them, and then let them go. From 
 this time they knew, and in a nianner saluted the 
 soldiers ; and the soldiers, whenever these ap- 
 
294 
 
 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 peared upon their march, rejoiced in the assur- 
 ance of performing something extraordinary. 
 
 About this time, there happened many prodi- 
 gies, most of them of the usual kind. But news 
 was brought from Ameria and Tudertum, cities 
 in Italy, that one night there were seen in the sky 
 spears and shields of fire, now waving about, 
 and then clashing against each other, in imitat.on 
 of the postures and motions of men fighting ; 
 and that, one party giving way, and the other 
 advancing, at last they all disappeared in the 
 west. Much about this time, too, there arrived 
 from Pessinus, Batabaces, priest of the mother 
 of the gods, with an account that the goddess had 
 declared from her sanctuary, that the Romans 
 would soon obtain a great and glorious victory. 
 The senate had given credit to his report, and 
 decreed the goddess a temple on account of the 
 victory. But when Batabaces went out, to make 
 the same declaration to the people, Aldus Pom- 
 peius, one of the tribunes, prevented him, ca.lling 
 him an impostor, and driving him in an igno- 
 minious manner from the rostrum. What fol- 
 lowed, indeed, was the thing which contributed 
 most to the credit of the prediction ; for Aldus 
 had scarce dissolved the assembly, and reached 
 his own house, when he was seized with a violent 
 fever, of which he died within a week. This was 
 a fact universally known. 
 
 Marius still keeping close, the Teutones at- 
 tempted to force his entrenchments ; but being 
 received with a shower of darts from the -camp, 
 by which they lost a number of men, they re- 
 solved to march forward, concluding that they 
 might pass the Alps in full security. They 
 packed up their baggage, therefore, and marched 
 by the Roman camp. Then it was that the 
 immen-sity of the.r numbers appeared in the 
 clearest light, from the length of their train, and 
 the time they took up in passing : for it is said, 
 that though they moved-on without intermission, 
 they were six days in going by Marius’s camp. 
 Indeed, they went very near it, and asked the 
 Romans, by way of insult, whether they had any 
 commands to their wives, for they should be 
 shortly with them? As soon as the barbarians 
 had all passed by, and were in full march, Marius 
 likewise decamped, and followed ; always taking 
 care to keep near them, and choosing strong 
 places at some small distance for his camp, which 
 he also fortified, in order that he might pass the 
 nights in safety. Thus they moved on till they 
 came to Aquae Sextiae, frdhi whence there is but 
 a short march to the Alps. 
 
 There Marius prepared for battle; having 
 pitched upon a place for his camp, which was 
 unexceptionable in point of strength, but afforded 
 little water. By this circumstance, they tell us, 
 he wanted to excite the soldiers to action ; and 
 when many of them complained of thirst, he 
 pointed to a river which ran close by the enemy’s 
 camp, and told them, that thence they mu.st 
 purchase wat^^r with their blood. “ Why, then," 
 said they, “ do you not lead us thither immedi- 
 ately, before our blood is quite parched up ?" To 
 which he answered in a softer tone, “ I will^ lead 
 you thither, but first let us fortify our camp." 
 
 The soldiers obeyed, though with some reluc- 
 tance. But the servants of the army, being in 
 great want of water, both for themselves and their 
 cattle, ran in crowds to the stream, some with 
 pick-axes, some with hatchets, and others with 
 
 swords and javelins, along with their pitchers ; 
 for they were resolved to have water, though they 
 were obliged to fight for it. The.se at first were 
 encountered by a small party of the enemy, when 
 .some having bathed, were engaged at dinner, and 
 others were still bathing. For there the country 
 abounds m hot wells. This gave the Romans an 
 opportunity of cutting off a number of them, 
 while they were indulging themselves in those 
 delicious baths, and charmed with the sweetness 
 of the place. The cry of these brought others to 
 their assistance, so that it was now difficult for 
 Marius to restrain the impetuosity of his .soldiers, 
 who were in pain for their servants. Besides, the 
 Ambrones, to the number of 30,000, who were 
 the best troops the enemy had, and who had 
 already defeated Manlius and Caepio, were drawn 
 out, and stood to their arms. Though they had 
 overcharged themselves with eating, yet the wine 
 they had drank had given them .resh spirits ; and 
 they advanced, not in a wild and disorderly 
 manner, or with a confused and inarticulate noise : 
 but beating their arms at regular intervals, and 
 all keeping time with the tune, they came on 
 crying out. Ambrones \ A 77 tbr ones I This they 
 did, either to encourage each other, or to terrify 
 the enemy with their name. The Ligurians were 
 the first of the Italians that moved against them ; 
 and when they heard the enemy cry Ambrones, 
 they echoed back the word, which was indeed 
 their own ancient name. Thus the shout was 
 often returned from one army to the other before 
 they charged, and the officers on both sides join- 
 ing in it, and striving which should pronounce 
 the word loudest, added by this means to the 
 courage and impetuosity of their troops. 
 
 The Ambrones were obliged to pass the river, 
 and this broke their order ; so that, before they 
 could form again, the Ligurians charged the fore- 
 most of them, and thus began the battle. The 
 Romans came to support the Ligurians, and pour- 
 ing down from the higher ground, pressed the 
 enemy so hard, that they soon put them in dis- 
 order. Many of them justling each other on the 
 banks of the river, were slain there, and the river 
 itself was filled with dead bodies. Those who 
 were got saie over not daring to make head, were 
 cut off by the Romans, as thej’^ fled to their camp 
 and carriages. There the women meeting them 
 with swords and axes, and setting up a horrid 
 and hideous cry, fell upon the fugitives, as well 
 as the pursuers, the former as traitors, and the 
 latter as enemies. Mingling with the combatants, 
 they laid hold on the Roman shields, catched at 
 their swords with their naked hands, and obsti- 
 nately suffered them.selves to be hacked in piece.s. 
 Thus the battle is said to have been fought on the 
 banks of the river rather by accident than any 
 design of the geneval. 
 
 The Romans, after having destroyed so many 
 of the Ambrones, retired as it grew dark ; but 
 the camp did not resound with songs of victory, 
 as might have been expected upon such success. 
 There were no entertainments, no mirth in their 
 tents, nor, what is the most agreeable circum- 
 stances to the soldier after victory, any sound and 
 refreshing sleep. The night was passed in the 
 greatest dread and perplexity. The camp was 
 without trench or rampart. There remained yet 
 many myriads of the barbarians unconquered; 
 and such of the Ambrones as escaped, mixing 
 with them, a cry was heard all night, not like the 
 
CAIUS MARIUS, 
 
 295 
 
 sig^hs and ^oans of men, but like the howling 
 and bellowing of wild beasts. As this proceeded 
 from such an innumerable host, the neighbouring 
 mountains and the hollow banks of the river 
 returned the sound, and the horrid din filled the 
 whole plains. The Romans felt the impressions 
 of ten'or, and Marius himself was filled with 
 astonishment at the apprehensions of a tumul- 
 tuous night engagement. However, the bar- 
 barians did not attack them, either that night or 
 next day, but spient the time in consulting how to 
 dispose and draw themselves up to the best 
 advantage. 
 
 In the mean time Marius observing the sloping 
 hills and woody hollows that hung over the 
 enemy s camp, despatched Claudius Marcellus 
 with 3000 men, to lie in ambush there till the 
 fight was begun, and then to fall upon the enemy’s 
 rear. The rest of his troops he ordered to sup 
 and go to rest in good time. Next morning as 
 soon as it was light he drew up be. ore the camp, 
 and commanded the cavalry' to march into the 
 plain. The Teutones seeing this, could not con- 
 tain themselves, nor stay till all the Romans were 
 come down into the plain, where they might fight 
 them upon equal terms ; but arming hastily 
 through thirst of vengeance, advanced up to the 
 hill. Manus despatched his oihcers through the 
 whole army, with orders that they should stand 
 still and wait for the enemy. When the bar- 
 barians were within reach, the Romans were to 
 throw their javelins, then come to sword in hand, 
 and pressing upon them With their shields, push 
 them vnrh ail their force. For he knew the place 
 was so shpper5% that the enemy’s blows could 
 have no great weight, nor could they preserve 
 any close order, where the declivity of the ground 
 continually changed their poise. At the same 
 time that he gave these directions, he was the 
 first that set the example. For he was inferior to 
 none in personal agility, and in resolution he far 
 e.\'ceeded them all. 
 
 The Romans, by their firmness and united 
 charge, kept the barbarians from ascending the 
 hill, and by little and little forced them down into 
 the plain. There the foremost battalions were 
 beginning to form again, when the utmost con- 
 fusion discovered itself in the rear. For Mar- 
 cellus, w.ho had watched his opportunity, as soon 
 he fbund, by the noise, which reached the 
 hills where he lay, that the battle was begun, 
 wuth great impetuosity and loud shouts fell upon 
 the enemy’s rear, and destroyed a considerable 
 number of them. The hindmost being pushed 
 upon those before, the whole army was soon put 
 in disorder. Thus attacked both in front and 
 rear, they could not stand the double shock, but 
 forsook the ranks, and fled.* * ITe Romans pur- 
 suing, either killed or took pri.soners above 
 100,000, and having made themselves masters of 
 their tents, carriage-, and baggage, voted as 
 many of them as were not plundered, a present to 
 Manus. Ihis indeed was a noble recompense, 
 very' inadequate to the general- 
 dan showm in that great and imminent 
 
 Chher historians give a different account, both 
 of the disposition of the spoils, and the number of 
 the slain. From these writers we learn, that the 
 Massihans walled in their vineyards with the 
 bones they found in the field : and that the rain 
 which fell the winter follow’ing, soaked in the 
 moisture of the putrified bodies, the ground was 
 so enriched by it, that it produced the next sea-on 
 a prodigious crop. Thus the opinion of .Archilo- 
 chus is confirmed, that fields are fiatte 7 ied 'ivith 
 blood. It is observed, indeed, that extraordinary 
 reins generally fall after great battles ; whether 
 It be, that some deity chooses to wash and purify 
 the earth with water from above, or whether the 
 blood and corruption, by the moist and heavy 
 vapours they emit, thicken the air, which is liable 
 to be altered by the smallest cause. 
 
 A. ter the battle, Marius selected from among 
 the arms and other spoils such as were elegant 
 and entire, and likely to make the greatest show 
 in his triumph. The rest he piled together, and 
 offered them as a splendid sacrifice to the gods. 
 The army stood round the pile crowned with 
 laurel ; and himself arrayed in his purple robe, 
 and girt after the manner of the Romans, took a 
 lighted torch. He had just lifted it up with both 
 hand- towards heaven, and was going to set fire 
 to the piles, when some friends were seen galloping 
 towards him. Great silence and expieciation 
 followed. When they were come near, they 
 leaped from their horses, and saluted Manus 
 consul the fifth time, delivering him letters to 
 the same purpose. This added great joy to the 
 solemnity, which the soldiers e.vp es.<ed by ac- 
 clamations and by clanking their arms ; and while 
 the officers were presenting Marius with new 
 crowms of laurel, he set fire to the pile, and 
 finished the sacrifice. 
 
 But whatever it is, that will not permit us to 
 enjoy any great prosperity pure and uiiraixed, 
 but chequers human life with a variety of good 
 and evil ; w’hether it be fortune or some cha.stising 
 deity, or necessity and the nature of things ; a 
 few days after this joyful solemnity, the sad news 
 was brought to Marius of what had befallen his 
 colleague Catulus. An event which, like a cloud 
 in the midst of a calm, brought fresh alarms up>on 
 Rome, and threatened her with another tempest. 
 Catulus, who had the Cimbri to oppose, came to 
 a resolution to give up the defence of the heights, 
 lest he should weaken himself by being obliged 
 to divide his force into many parts. He therefore 
 descended quickly from the Alps into Italy, anc 
 posted his army behind the river Athesis ; * where 
 he blocked up the fords with strong fortifications 
 on both sides, and threw a bridge over it ; t.iat 
 so he might be in a condition to succour the 
 garrisons beyond it, if the barbarians should 
 make their way through the narrow pas-es of the 
 mountains and attempt to storm them. The 
 barbarians held their enemies in such contempt, 
 and came on with so much insolence, that, rather 
 to show their strength and courage, than out of 
 any necessity, ihey exposed them.sei\es naked to 
 the showers of snow; and, having pushed through 
 the ice and deep drills of snow to the tops of the 
 
 victory was gained the second year c 
 
 appear anything ver 
 e.xtraordinary ut the generalship of Wanus oi 
 
 this occasion. The ignorance and rashness of the 
 barbarians did evetyth ng in his favour. 'Ihe 
 Teutones lost the battle, as Hawley lost it at Fai- 1 
 kirk, by attempting the h-.ll.^ 
 
 * Now the Adige. 
 
296 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 mountains, they put their broad shields under 
 them, and so slid down, in spite of the broken 
 rocks and vast slippery descents 
 
 When they had encamped near the river, and 
 taken a view of the channel, they determined to 
 fill it up. Then they tore up the neighbouring 
 hills, I ke the giants of old ; they pulled up trees 
 by the roots ; they broke off massy rocks, and 
 rolled in huge heaps of earth. These were to 
 dam up the current. Other bulky materials, 
 besides these, were thrown in, to force away the 
 bridge, which being carried down the stream 
 with great violence, beat against the timber, and 
 shook the foundation. At the sight of this the 
 Roman soldiers were struck with terror, and great 
 part of them quitted the camp and drew back. 
 On this occasion Catulus, like an able and ex- 
 cellent general, showed that he preferred the 
 glory of his country to his own. For when he 
 found that he could not persuade his men to keep 
 their post, and that they were deserting it in a 
 very dastardly manner, he ordered his standard 
 to be taken up, and running to the foremost of 
 the fugitives, led them on himself ; choosing 
 rather that the disgrace should fall upon him 
 than upon his country, and that his soldiers should 
 not seem to fly, but to follow their general. 
 
 The barbarians now assaulted and took the 
 fortress on the other side of the Athesis : but 
 admiring the bravery of the garrison, who had 
 behaved in a manner suitable to the glory of 
 Rome, they^ dismissed them upon certain con- 
 ditions, having first made them swear to them 
 upon a brazen bull. In the battle that followed, 
 this bull was taken among the spoils, and is said 
 to have been carried to Catulus’s house, as the 
 first-fruits of the victory. The country at present 
 being without de ence, the Cimbri spread them- 
 selves over it, and committed great depredations. 
 
 Hereupon Marius was called home. When he 
 arrived, every one expected that he would triumph, 
 
 • and the senate readdy passed a decree for that 
 purpose. However, he declined it ; whether it 
 was, that he was unwilling to deprive his men, 
 who had .shared in the danger, of their part of the 
 honour, or that, to encourage the people in the 
 present extremity, he chose to intrust the glory 
 of his former achievements with the fortune of 
 Rome, in order to have it restored to him with 
 interest upon his next success. Having made an 
 oration suitable to the time, he went to join 
 Catulus, who was much encouraged by his coming. 
 He then sent for his army out of Gaul ; and when 
 it was arrived, he crossed the Po, with a design 
 to keep the barbarians from penetrating into the 
 interior parts of Italy. But they deferred the 
 combat, on pretence that they expected the 
 Teutones, and that thej' wondered at their delay ; 
 either being really ignorant of their fate, or 
 choosing to seem so. For they punished those 
 who brought them that account with stripes ; and 
 sent to ask Marius for lands and cities, sufficient 
 both for them and their brethren. When Marius 
 inquired of the ambassadors who their brethren 
 were, they told him the Teutones. The assembly 
 laughed, and Marius replied in a taunting manner, 
 “Do not trouble yourselves about your brethren ; 
 for they have land enough, which we have already 
 given them, and they shall have it for ever.’' The 
 ambassadors perceiving the irony, answered in 
 sharp, and scurrilous' terms, assuring him that 
 the Cimbri would chastise him immediately and 
 
 the Teutones when they came. “And they are 
 not far off,” said Marius ; “ it will be very unkind, 
 therefore, in you to go away without saluting 
 your brethien.” At the same time he ordered 
 the kings of the Teutones to be brought out, 
 loaded as they were with chains : for they had 
 been taken by the Sequani, as they were en- 
 deavouring to escape over the Alps. 
 
 As soon as the ambassadors had acquainted the 
 Cimbri with what had passed, they marched 
 directly against Marius, who at that time lay 
 still, and kept within his trenches. It is reported 
 that on this occasion he contrived a new form for 
 the javelins. _ Till then they used to fasten the 
 si aft to the iron head with two iron pins. But 
 Marius now letting one of them rem^ain as it was, 
 Viad the other taken out, and a weak wooden peg 
 put in its place. By this contrivance he intended, 
 that when the javelin stuck in the enemy’s shield, 
 it should not stand right out ; but that, the 
 wooden peg breaking, and the iron pin bending, 
 the shaft of the weapon should be dragged upon 
 the ground, while the point stuck fast in the 
 shield. 
 
 Boiorix, king of the Cimbri, came now with a 
 small party of horse to the Roman camp, and 
 challenged Marius to appoint the time and place 
 where they should meet and decide it by arms, 
 to whom the country should belong. Marius 
 answered that the Romans never consulted 
 their enemies when to fight ; however, he would 
 indulge the Cimbri in this point. Accordingly 
 they agreed to fight the third day after, and that 
 the plain of Vercellse should be the field of battle, 
 which was fit for the Roman cavalry to act in, 
 and convenient for the barbarians to display 
 their number. 
 
 Both parties kept their day, and drew up their 
 forces over against each other. Catulus had 
 under his command 20,300 men ; Marius had 
 32,000. The latter were drawn up in the two 
 wings, and Catulus was in the centre. Sylla, 
 who was present in the battle, gives us this 
 account ; and it is reported, that Marius made 
 this disposition, in hopes of breaking the Cim- 
 brian battalions with the wings only, and securing 
 to himself and his soldiers the honour of the 
 victory, before Catulus could have an oppor- 
 tunity to come up to the charge ; it being usual, 
 in a large front, for the wings to advance before 
 the main body. This is confirmed by the de- 
 fence which Catulus made of his own behaviour, 
 in which he insisted much on the malignant de- 
 signs of Marius against him. 
 
 The Cimbrian infantry marched out of their 
 trenches without noise, and formed so as to have 
 their flanks equal to their front ; each side oi the 
 square extending to thirty furlongs. Their 
 cavalry, to the number of 15,000, issued forth in 
 great splendour. Their helmets represented the 
 heads and open jaws of strange and frightful 
 wild beasts : on these were fixed high plumes, 
 which made the men appear taller. Their 
 breast-plates were of polished iron, and their 
 shields were white and glittering. Each man 
 had two-edged darts to fight with at a distance, 
 and when they came hand to hand, they used 
 broad and heavy swords. In this engagement 
 they did not fall directly upon the front of the 
 Romans, but wheeling to the right, they en- 
 deavoured’ by little and little to enclose the 
 enemy between them and their infantry, who 
 
CAIUS MARIUS. 
 
 297 
 
 were posted on the left. The Roman generals 
 perceived their artful design, but were not able 
 to restrain their own men. One happened to cry 
 out, that the enemy fled, and they all set off upon 
 the pursuit. In the mean time, the barbarian 
 foot came on like a vast sea. Marius having 
 purified, lifted his hands towards heaven, and 
 vowed a hecatomb to the gods ; and Catulus, in 
 the same posture, promised to consecrate a 
 temple to the fortune of that day. As Marius 
 sacr ficed on this occasion, it is said that the 
 entrails were no sooner shown him, than he cried 
 out with a loud voice, “ The victory is mine.” 
 However, when the battle was joined, an 
 accident happened, which, as Sylla writes,* ap- 
 peared to be intended by heaven to humble 
 Marius. _ A prodigious dust, it seems, arose, 
 which hid both armies. Marius moving first to 
 the charge, had the misfortune to miss the 
 enemy ; and having passed by their army, 
 wandered about with his troops a long time in 
 the field. In the mean time, the good fortune of 
 Catulus directed the enemy to him, and it was 
 his legions (in which Sylla tells us he fought) to 
 whose lot the chief conflict fell. The heat of the 
 weather, and the sun which shone full in the 
 faces of the Cimbri, fought for the Romans. 
 Those barbarians, being bred in shady and frozen 
 countries, could bear the severest cold, but were 
 not proof against heat. Their bodies soon ran 
 down with sweat ; they drew their breath with 
 difficulty, and were forced to hold their shields to 
 shade their faces. Indeed, this battle was fought 
 not long after the summer solstice, and the 
 Romans keep a festival for it on the third day of 
 the calends of August, then called Sextilis. The 
 dust, too, which hid the enemy, helped to en- 
 courage the Romans. For as they could have no 
 distinct view of the vast numbers of their antago- 
 nists, they ran to the charge, and were come to 
 close engagement before the sight of such multi- 
 tudes could give them any impressions of terror. 
 Besides, the Romans were so strengthened by 
 labour and exercise, that not one of them was 
 observed to sweat or be out of breath, notwith- 
 standing the suffocating heat and the violence of 
 the encounter. So Catulus himself is said to 
 have written, in commendation of his soldiers. 
 
 The greatest and best part of the enemy’s 
 troops were cut to pieces upon the spot ; those 
 who fought in the front fastened themselves 
 together, by long cords run through their belts,! 
 to prevent their ranks from being broken. The 
 Romans drove back the lugitives to their camp, 
 where they found the most shocking spectacle, 
 ihe women standing in mourning by their 
 carnages, killed those that fled ; some their hus- 
 bands, some their brothers, others their fathers. 
 
 1 hey strangled their little children with their 
 own hands, and threw them under the wheels 
 and horses’ feet. Last of all, they killed them- 
 selves. They tell us of one that was seen slung 
 from the top of a waggon, with a child hanging 
 at each heel. The men, for want of trees, tied 
 themselves b y the neck, some to the horns of the 
 
 * It is a misfortune that Catulus’s history of 
 his consulship, and a greater that Sylla’s' com- 
 mentaries, are lost. 
 
 ^ his was an absurd contrivance to keep their 
 ranks. But they intended also to have bound 
 their prisoners with the cords after the battle. 
 
 oxen, others to their legs, and then pricked them 
 on ; that by the starting of the beasts they might 
 be strangled or torn to pieces. But though they 
 were so industrious to destroy themselves, above 
 60,000 were taken prisoners, and the killed were 
 said to have been twice that number. 
 
 Marius’s .soldiers plundered the baggage ; but 
 the other spoils, with the ensigns and trumpets, 
 they tell us, were brought to the camp of Catulus ; 
 and he availed himself chiefly of this as a proof 
 that the victory belonged to him. A hot dispute, 
 it seems, arose between his troops and those of 
 Marius, which had the best claim; and the 
 ambassadors from Parma, who happened to be 
 there, were chosen arbitrators. Catulus’s soldiers 
 led them to the field of battle to see the dead, 
 and clearly proved that they were killed by their 
 javelins, because Catulus had taken care to have 
 the shafts inscribed with his name. Neverthe- 
 less, the whole honour of the day was ascribed 
 to Marius, on account of his former victory, 
 and his present authority. Nay, such was the 
 applause of the populace, that they called him 
 third under of Rome, as having rescued 
 her from a danger not less dreadful than that 
 from the_ Gauls. In their rejoicings at home 
 with their wives and children, at supper they 
 offered libations to Marius along with the gods, 
 and would have given him alone the honour of 
 both triumphs. He declined this indeed, and 
 triumphed with Catulus, being desirous to show 
 his moderation a ter such extraordinary instances 
 of success. Or, perhaps, he was afraid of some 
 opposition from Catulus’s soldiers, who might 
 not have suffered him to triumph, if he had 
 deprived their general of his share of the 
 honour. 
 
 manner his fifth consulate was passed. 
 And now he aspired to a sixth, with more ardour 
 than any man had ever shown for his first. He 
 courted the people, and endeavoured to ingratiate 
 himself with the meanest of them by such servile 
 condescensions, as were not only unsuitable to 
 his dignity, but even contrary to his disposition ; 
 assuming an air of gentleness and complaisance, 
 for which nature never meant him. It is said, 
 that in civil affairs and the tumultuous proceed- 
 ings of the populace, his ambition had given 
 him an uncommon ^ timidity. That intrepid 
 firmness which he discovered in battle forsook 
 him in the assemblies of the people, and the 
 least breath of praise or dislike disconcerted him 
 in his address. Yet we are told, that when he 
 had granted the freedom of the city to a thou- 
 sand Camerians, who_ had distinguished them- 
 selves by their behaviour in the wars, and his 
 proceeding was found fault with as contrary to 
 law, he said the law spoke too softly to be heard 
 amidst the din of arms. However, the noise 
 that he dreaded, and that robbed him of his 
 presence of mind, was thatof popu ar a.ssemblies. 
 
 In war he easily obtained the highest rank, 
 because they could not do without him ; but in 
 the administration he was sometimes in danger 
 of losing the honours he solicited. In these 
 cases he Pad recourse to the partiality of the 
 multitude ; and had no scruple of making his 
 honesty subservient to his ambition. 
 
 By these means he made himself obnoxious to 
 all the patricians. But he was most afraid of 
 Metellus, whom he had treated with ingratitude. 
 Besides, Metellus was a man, who, from a spirit 
 
298 PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 of true virtue, Avas naturally an enemy to those 
 who endeavoured to gain the populace by evil 
 arts, and directed all their measures to please 
 them. Marius, therefore, was very de.sirous to 
 get him out of the way. For this purpose he 
 associated with Glaucias and Saturninus, two of 
 the most daring and turbulent men in Rome, 
 who had the indigent and seditious part of the 
 people at their command. By their assistance 
 he got several laws enacted ; and having planted 
 many of his soldiers in the assemblies, his faction 
 prevailed, and Metellus was overborne. 
 
 Rutilius,* in other respects a man of credit 
 and veracity, but particularly prejudiced against 
 Marius, tells us he obtained his sixth consulate 
 by large sums which he di.stributed among the 
 tribes, and having thrown out Metellus, by dint 
 of money, prevailed with them to elect Valerius 
 Flaccus, rather his servant than his colleague. 
 The people had never before bestowed so many 
 . consulates on any one man, except Valerius 
 Corvauis.t And there was this great difference, 
 that between the first and sixth consulate of 
 Corvinu.s, there was an interval of forty-five 
 years ; whereas Marius, after his first, was car- 
 ried through five more without interruption, by 
 one tide of fortune. 
 
 In the last of these, he exposed himself to 
 much hatred, by abetting Saturninus in all his 
 crimes; particularly in his murder of Nonius, 
 whom he slew because he was his competitoi for 
 the tribuneship. Saturninus, being appointed 
 tribune of the people, proposed an Agrarian law, 
 in which there was a clause -expressly providing 
 that the senate should come and swear in full 
 assembly, to confirm whatever the people should 
 decree, and not oppose them in anything. 
 Marius in the senate pretended to declare 
 against this clause, asserting that he would 
 never take such an oath, and that he believed 
 no wise man would. For, supposing the law not 
 a bad one, it would be a disgrace to the senate 
 to be compelled to give sanction to a thing, 
 which they should be brought to only by choice 
 or persuasion. 
 
 These, however, were not his real sentiments ; 
 but he was laying for Metellus an unavoidable 
 snare. As to himself, he^ reckoned that a great 
 part of virtue and prudence consisted in dis- 
 simulation, therefore he made but small account 
 of his declaration in the senate. At the same 
 time, knowing Metellus to be a man of immov- 
 able firmness, who, with Pindar, esteemed Truth 
 the sp-t ing of heroic virtice, he hoped, by refusing 
 the oath himself, to draw him in to refuse it too ; 
 which would infallibly expose him to the 'im- 
 placable resentment of the people The event 
 answered his expectation. Upon Metellus’s de- 
 claring that he would not take the oath, the 
 
 senate was dismissed. A few days after, Sa- 
 turninus summoned the fathers to appear in the 
 Jorum ^ and swear to that article, and Manus 
 made his appearance among the rest. A pro- 
 found silence ensued, and all eyes were fixed 
 upon him, when bidding adieu to the fine things 
 he had said in the senate, he told the audience 
 that he was not so opinionated as to pretend 
 absolutely to prejudge a matter of such im- 
 portance, and therelore he would take the oath, 
 and keep the law too, provided it was a law. 
 This proviso he added, merely to give a colour 
 to his impudence, and was sworn immediately.* 
 
 The people, charmed with his compliance, 
 expres.sed their sense of it in loud acclamations ; 
 while the patricians were abashed, and held his 
 double-dealing in the highest detestation. In- 
 timidated by the people, they took the oath, 
 however, in their order, till it came to Metellus. 
 But Metellus, though his friends exhorted and 
 entreated him to be conformable, and not expose 
 himself to those dreadful penalties which Sa- 
 turninus had provided for such as refused, 
 shrunk not from the dignity of his resolution, 
 nor took the oath» That great man abode by 
 his principles ; he was ready to suffer the 
 greatest calamities, rather than do a dishonour- 
 able thing ; and as he quitted the Jorum, he said 
 to those about him, “ I'o do an ill action is base ; 
 to do a good one, which involves you in no 
 danger, is nothing more than common : but it is 
 the property of a good man, to do great and 
 good things, though he risks everything by it." 
 
 Saturninus then caused a decree to be made, 
 that the consuls should declare Metebus a per- 
 son interdicted the use of fire and water, whom 
 no man should admit into his house. And the 
 meanest of the people, adhering to that party, 
 were ready even to assassinate him. The nobi- 
 lity, now anxious for Metellus, ranged them- 
 selves on his side ; but he would suffer no 
 sedition on his account. Instead of that, he 
 adopted a wise measure, which was to leave the 
 city. “ For,” .said he, “ either matters will take 
 a better turn, and the people repent and recall 
 me ; or if they remain the same, it will be best 
 to be at a distance from Rome.” What regard 
 and what honours were paid Metellus during his 
 banishment, and how he lived at Rhodes in the 
 study of philosophy, it will be more convenient 
 to mention in his life. 
 
 Marius was so highly obliged to Saturninus 
 for this last piece of .service, that he was forced 
 to connive at him, though he now ran out into 
 every act of insolence and outrage. He did not 
 consider that he was giving the reins to a de- 
 stroying fury, who was making his way in blood 
 to absolute power and the subversion of the 
 state. All this while Marius was desirous to 
 
 * P Rutilius Rufus was consul the year be- 
 fore the second consulship of Marius. He wrote 
 his own liie in Latin, and a Roman history in 
 Greek. Cicero mentions him, on several occa- 
 sions, as a man of honour and probity. He was 
 exiled six or seven years after the sixth consul- 
 ship of Marius. Sylla would have recalled him, 
 but he refused to return. 
 
 + Valerius Corvinus was elected consul when 
 he was only twenty-three years of age, in the 
 year of Rome 406 ; and he was appointed consul 
 the sixth time in the year of Rome 452. 
 
 * Thus Manus made the first step towards the 
 ruin of the Roman constitution, which hap- 
 pened not long after. If the senate were to 
 swear to confirm whatever the people should 
 decree, whether good or bad, they cea.'-ed to 
 have a weight in the scale, and the government 
 became a democracy. And as the people grew 
 so corrupt as to take the highest price that was 
 offered them, absolute power mu.st be advanced 
 with hasty strides. Indeed, a nation which has 
 no principle of public virtue left, is not fit to be 
 governed by any other. 
 
CAIUS MARIUS. 2qq 
 
 keep fair with the nobility, and at the same time 
 to retain the good graces of the people ; and this 
 led him to act a part, than which nothing can be 
 conceived more ungenerous and deceitful. One 
 night some of the first men in the state came to 
 his house, and pressed him to declare against 
 Saturninus ; but at that very time he let in 
 Saturninus at another door unknown to them. 
 Then pretending a disorder in his bowels, he 
 went from one party to the other : and this trick 
 he played several times over, still exasperating 
 both against each other. At last the senate and 
 the equestrian order rose in a body, and ex- 
 pressed their indignation in such strong terms 
 that he was obliged to send a party of soldiers 
 into the to suppress the sedition. Sa- 
 
 turninus, Glaucias, and the rest of the cabal, fled 
 into the Capitol. There they were besieged, 
 and at last forced to yield for want of water, the 
 pipes being cut off. When they could hold out 
 no longer, they called for Marius, and sur- 
 rendered themselves to him upon the public 
 faith. He tried every art to save them, but 
 nothing would avail ; they no sooner came down 
 into forum, than they were all put to the 
 
 sword.* He was now become equally odious 
 both to the nobility and the commons, so that 
 when the time tor the election of Censors came 
 on, contrary to expectation he declined offering 
 himself, and permitted others of less note to be 
 chosen. But though it was his fear of a repulse 
 that made him^ sit still, he gave it another 
 colour ; pretending he did not choo.se to make 
 himself obnoxious to the people, by a severe 
 inspection into their lives and manners. 
 
 An edict was now proposed :or the recall of 
 Metellus. Manus opposed it with all his power ; 
 but finding his endeavours fruitless, he gave up 
 the point, and the people passed the bill with 
 pleasure. Unable to bear the s.ght of Metellus 
 he contrived to take a voyage to Cappadocia 
 and Galatia, under pretence of offering some 
 sacrifices which he had vowed to the mother of 
 the gods. But he had another reason which 
 was not known to the people. Incapable of 
 making any figure in peace, and unversed in 
 political knowledge, he saw that all his great- 
 ness arose from war, and that in a state of in- 
 action Its lustre began to fade. He, therefore, 
 studied to rai.se new commotions. If he could 
 Asiatic kings, and particularly 
 Mithndates, who seemed most inclined to 
 quarrel, he hoped soon to be appointed general 
 against him and to have an opportunity to fill 
 the city with new triumphs, as well as to enrich 
 his own hou.se with the spoils of Pontus and the 
 wealth of Its monarch. For this reason, though 
 Mithndates treated him in the politest and most 
 respectful manner, he was not in the least rnol- 
 ‘‘ addressed him in the following terms • 
 Mithndates, your bu.sine.ss is, either to render 
 yourself more powerful than the Romans, or to 
 submit quietly to their commands.” The kine 
 was quite amazed. He had often heard of the 
 lioerty of speech that prevailed among the 
 Romans, but that was the first time he expe- 
 rienced It. ^ 
 
 At his return to Rome, he built a house near 
 the forum : either for the convenience of those 
 
 who wanted to wait on him, which was the reason 
 he assigned; or because he hoped to have a 
 greater concourse of people at his gates. In this 
 however, he was mistaken. He had not thos 4 
 graces of conver.sation, that engaging addres.s. 
 which others were masters of ; and therefore, like 
 a mere implement of war, he was neglected in 
 time of peace. He was not so much concerned a<- 
 the preference given to others, but that which 
 bylla had gained afflicted him exceedingly 
 because he was rising by means of the envy which 
 the patricians bore kim, and his first step to the 
 administration was a quarrel with him. But 
 when Bocchus, king of Numidia, now declared an 
 ally of the Romans, erected in the capital some 
 hpres of Victory adorned with trophies, and 
 placed by them a .set o.- golden statues, which repre- 
 sented him delivering jugurtha into the hands of 
 almost distracted. He con- 
 sidered this as an act by which Sylla wanted to rob 
 hini of the glory of his achievements, and prepared 
 t^o demolrsh the.se monuments by force. Sylla on 
 his part, as strenuously opposed him. ' 
 
 This sedition was just upon the point of flamin^ 
 out, when the war of the allies intervened * and 
 put a stop to It. The most warlike and most 
 populous nations of Italy con.spired against Rome 
 and were not ar from subverting the empire.' 
 Iheir strength consisted not only in the weapons 
 and valour of their soldiers, but in the courage and 
 capacity of their generals, who were not inferior 
 to those of Rome. 
 
 This war, so remarkable for the number of 
 battles and the variety of fortune that attended it, 
 added as much to the reputation of Sylla, as it 
 diminished that of Marius. The latter now 
 seemed slow in his attacks, as well as dilatory in 
 his resolutions ; whether it were, that age had 
 quenched his martial heat and vigour (for he was 
 now above sixty-five years old) or that, as he 
 hun.se f. said, his nerves being weak, and his body 
 unwieldy he underwent the fatigues of war, which 
 were in fact above his strength, merely upon a 
 point of honour. However, he beat the enemy in 
 a great battle, wherein he killed at lea.st 6000 of 
 them, and through the whole he took care to give 
 them no advantage over him. Nay, he suffered 
 them to draw a line about him, to ridicule, and 
 challenge him to the combat, without being in the 
 least concerned at it. It is reported, that when 
 Pompedius Mlo, an officer of the greatest emi- 
 nence and authority among the allies, said to him 
 It you are a great general. Marius, come down 
 and fight us ; he answered, “ If you are a great 
 general, .Silo, make me come down and fight.” 
 Another time, when the enemy gave the Romans 
 a good opportunity of attacking them, and they 
 were afraid to embrace it ; after both parties were 
 retired, he called his soldiers together, and made 
 this short speech to them ; “I know not which to 
 call the greatest coward.s, the enemy or you ; for 
 neither dare they lace your back.s, nor you theirs.” 
 
 At la.st, pretending to he incapacitated for the 
 s“r> oe by his infirmities, he laid down the com- 
 mand, 
 
 1 c. when the war with the confederates drew 
 to an end and several applications were made 
 through the popular orators, for the command 
 
 stonel^^ people despatched them with clubs and 
 
 This was also called the Marsian war. It 
 broice out in the six hundred and sixty-second 
 year of Rome. Vid. Flor. 1. iii. c. i8. 
 
300 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 against Mitliridates, the tribune Sulpitius, a bold 
 and daring man, contrary to all expectation, 
 brought forth Marius, and nominated him Pro- 
 consul and general in the Mithridatic war. The 
 people, upon this, were divided, some accepting 
 Marius, while others called for Sylla, and bade 
 Marius go to the warm baths of Baise for cure, 
 since, by his own confession, he was quite worn 
 out with age and defluxions. It seems, Marius 
 had a fine villa at Misenum, more luxuriously 
 and effeminately furnished than became a man 
 who had been at the head of so many armies, and 
 had directed so many campaigns. Cornelia is 
 said to have bought this house for 75,000 drachmas ; 
 yet, no long time after, Lucius Lucullus gave for 
 it 500,200 : to such a height did expense and 
 luxury rise in the course of a few years. 
 
 Marius, however, affecting to shake off the 
 infirmities of age, went every day into the Campus 
 Martius ; where he took the most robust exercises 
 along with the young men, and showed himself 
 nimble in his arms, and active on horseback, 
 though his years had now made him heavy and 
 corpulent. Some were pleased with these things, 
 and went to see the spirit he exerted in the 
 exercises. But the more sensible sort of people, 
 when they beheld it, could not help pitying the 
 avarice and ambition of a man, who, though 
 raised from poverty to opulence, and from the 
 meanest condition to greatness, knew not how to 
 set bounds to his good fortune. It shocked them 
 to think, that this man, instead of being happy in 
 the admiration he had gained, and enjoying his 
 present possessions in peace, as if he were in want 
 of all things, was going, at so great an age, and 
 after so many honours and triumphs, to Cappa- 
 docia and the Euxine sea, to fight with Archelaus 
 and Neoptolemus, the lieutenants of Mithridates. 
 As for the reason that Marius assigned for this 
 step, namely, that he wanted hirnself to train up 
 his son to war, it was perfectly trifling. 
 
 The commonwealth had been sickly for some 
 time, and now her disorder came to a crisis. 
 Marius had found a fit instrument for her ruin in 
 the audacity of Sulpitius ; a man who in other 
 respects admired and imitated Saturninus, but 
 considered him as too timid and dilatory in his 
 proceedings. Determined to commit^ no such 
 error, he got 600 men of the equestrian order 
 about him, as his guard, whom he called his Anii- 
 senate. 
 
 One day while the consuls were holding an 
 assembly of the people,* Sulpitius came upon 
 them with his assassins. The consuls immediately 
 fled, but he seized the son of one of them, and 
 killed him on the spot. Sylla (the other consul) 
 was pursued, but escaped into the house of Marius, 
 which' nobody thought of ; and when the pursuers 
 were gone by, it is said that Marius himself let 
 him out at a back gate, from whence he got 
 safe to the camp. But Sylla, in his Commentaries, 
 denies that he fled to the house of Marius. He 
 writes, that he was taken thither to debate about 
 certain edicts, which they wanted him to pass 
 against his will ; that he was surrounded with 
 drawn swords, and carried forcibly to that house : 
 and that at last he was removed from thence to 
 the forurn^ where he was compelled to revoke the 
 
 order of vocation,* which had been issued by him 
 and his colleague. 
 
 Sulpitius, now carrying all before him, decreed 
 the command of the army to Marius ; and Marius, 
 preparing for his march, sent two tribunes to 
 Sylla, with orders that he should deliver up the 
 army to them. But Sylla, instead of resigning 
 his charge, animated his troops to revenge, and 
 led them, to the number of 30,000 foot and 5000 
 horse, directly against Rome. As for the tribunes 
 whom Marius had sent to demand the army of 
 Sylla, they fell upon them and cut them in pieces. 
 Marius, on the other hand, put to death many of 
 Sylla’s friends in Rome, and proclaimed liberty to 
 all slaves that would take up arms in his behalf. 
 But, we are told, there were but three that 
 accepted this offer. He could therefore make 
 but a slight resistance ; Sylla soon entered the 
 city, and Marius was forced to fly for his life. 
 
 As soon as he had quitted Rome, he was 
 abandoned by those that had accompanied him. 
 They dispersed themselves as they could ; and 
 night coming on, he retired to a little house he 
 had near Rome, called Salonium. Thence he 
 sent his son to some neighbouring farms of his 
 father-in-law Mutius, to provide necessaries. 
 However, he did not wait for his return, but 
 went down to Ostia, where a friend of his, called 
 Numerius, had prepared him a ship, and em- 
 barked, having with him only Granius, his wife’s 
 son by a former husband. 
 
 When young Marius had reached his grand- 
 father’s estate, he hastened to collect such things 
 as he wanted, and to pack them up. But be. ore 
 he could make an end, he was overtaken by day- 
 light, and was near being discovered by the 
 enemy ; for a party of horse had hastened 
 thither, on suspicion that Marius might be lurk- 
 ing thereabouts. The bailiff of those grounds 
 got sight of them in time, and hid the young 
 man in a cart-load of beans. Then he put to his 
 team, and driving up to the party of horsemen, 
 passed on to Rome. Thus young Marius was 
 conveyed to his wife, who supplied him with 
 some necessaries ; and as soon as it grew dark, 
 he made for the sea, where finding a ship ready 
 to sail for Africa, he embarked, and passed over 
 to that country. 
 
 In the mean time the elder Marius with a 
 favourable gale coasted Italy. But being afraid 
 of falling into the hands of Geminius, a leading 
 man in Tarracina, who was his professed enemy, 
 he directed the mariners to keep clear of that 
 place. The mariners were willing enough to 
 oblige him ; but the wind shifting on a sudden, 
 and blowing hard from sea, they were afraid 
 they should not be able to weather the storm. 
 Besides, Marius was indisposed and seasick ; 
 they concluded therefore to make land, and with 
 great difficulty got to Clrcseum. There finding 
 that the tempest increased, and their provisions 
 began to fail, they went on shore, and wandered 
 up and down, they knew not whither. Such is 
 the method taken by persons in great perplexity ; 
 they shun the present as the greatest evil, and 
 seek for hope in the dark events of futurity. 
 The land was their enemy, the sea was the same : 
 
 * If that order had not been revoked, no public 
 business could have been done ; consequently 
 Marius could not have been appointed to the 
 command against Mithridates. 
 
 * Sylla and Pompeius Rufus were consuls. It 
 was the son of the latter that was slain. 
 
CAIUS MARIUS. 
 
 ;oi 
 
 it was dangerous to meet with men ; it was 
 dangerous also not to meet with them, because of 
 their extreme want of provisions. In the even- 
 ing they met with a few herdsmen, who had 
 nothing to give them ; but happening to know 
 Marius, they desired he would immediately quit 
 those parts, for a little before they had seen a 
 number of horse upon that very spot riding 
 about in search of him. He was now involved 
 in all manner of distress, and those about him 
 ready to give out through hunger. In this ex- 
 tremity he turned out of the road, and threw 
 himself into a thick wood, where he passed the 
 night in great anxiety. Next day, in distress for 
 want of refreshment, and willing to make use of 
 the little strength he had, before it quite forsook 
 him, he moved down to the seaside. As he went, 
 he encouraged his companions not to desert him, 
 and earnestly entreated them to wait for the 
 accomplishment of his last hope, for which he 
 reserved himself, upon the credit of some old 
 prophecies. He told them that v.^hen he was 
 very young, and hved in the country, an eagle’s 
 nest fell into his lap, with seven young ones in 
 it.* His parents, surprised at the sight, applied 
 to the diviners, who answered, that their son 
 would be the most illustrious of men, and that he 
 would seven times attain the highest office and 
 authority in his country. 
 
 Some say, this had actually happened to 
 Marius ; others are of opinion, that tJie persons 
 who were then about him, and heard him relate 
 it, on rlmt as well as several other occasions, 
 during his exile, gave credit to it, and committed 
 it to writing, though nothing could be more 
 fabulous. For an eagle has not more than two 
 young ones at a time. Nay, even Musaeus is 
 accused of a false assertion, when he says, “The 
 eagle lays three eggs, sits on tw'o, and hatches 
 but one.” However this may be, it is agreed on 
 all h^ds, that Marius, during his banishment, 
 and in the greatest extremities, often said he 
 should certainly come to a seventh consulship. 
 
 They were not now above iw'o miles and a half 
 from the city of Mintumae, when they espied at 
 some considerable distance a troop of horse 
 making towards them, and at the same time 
 happened to see r.vo barks sailing near the shore. 
 
 ■ They ran down, therefore, to the sea, wdth all 
 the speed and strength they had ; and when they 
 had reached it, plunged in and swam towards the 
 ships. Granius gained one of them, and passed 
 over to an opposite island, called .iEnaria. As 
 j for Marius, who was very heavy and unwieldy, 
 i he was borne with much difficulty by two ser- 
 I vants above the water, and put into the other 
 ; ship. The party of horse were by this time 
 ^ come to^ the seaside, from whence they called to 
 the ship s crew, either to put ashore immediately, 
 i or else to throw Marius overboard, and then 
 they might go where they pleased. Marius 
 begged of them with tears to save him; and the 
 t masters of the vessel, after consulting together 
 ; a few moments, in which they changed their 
 I opinions several times, resolved to make answ'er, 
 i tlmt they would not dehver up Marius. Upon 
 this, the soldiers rode oflf in a great rage ; and 
 ^ the sailors, soon departing from their resolution, 
 
 I made for land. They cast anchor in the mouth 
 
 * Marii« might as well avail himself of thi<; 
 fable, as of the prophecies of Martha. 
 
 of the river Liris, where it overflow's and forms a i 
 marsh, and advised Marius, who was much j 
 harassed, to go and refresh himself on shore, 
 till they could get a better wind. This they ^ 
 said would happen at a certain hour, when the i 
 wind from the sea would fall, and that from the i 
 marshes rise. Marius believing them, they ! 
 helped him ashore ; and he seated himself on 
 the grass, little thinking of w'hat was going to 
 be all him. For the crew immediately went on 
 board again, weighed anchor, and sailed away : 
 thin^ng it neither honourable to dehver up 
 Marius, nor safe to protect him . 
 
 ihus deserted by all the world, he sat a good 
 while on the shore, in silent s.u .efaction. At 
 length recovering ; im^elf with much difficulty, 
 he rose a d walked in a dis.onsolate manner 
 througn those wild and devi us places, till by 
 scrambl-ng over d ep bo s and ditches full of 
 w.ter ana mud, he came to the cottage of an 
 old man w’ho worked in the fens. He threw 
 himsel at his e t, and begg.d him to save 
 and shel .er a man, who, if he escaped the present 
 danger, would reward him far b.yond his hopes, 
 ihe cottager, whether he knew him before, or 
 was then moved wi h his veneraLle aspect, told 
 him, his hut wou d be sufficient, if he u anted 
 only to repose himselt ; but if he was wandering 
 ab ut to elude the search of hi«, enemies, he 
 would hide him in a place much safer and more 
 retired. Marius desiring him to do so, the poor 
 man took him into the fens, and bade him hide 
 himself in a hollow place by the river, where he 
 laid upon him a quantity of reeds and other light 
 things, that would cover, t ut not oppress hioi. 
 
 In a short time, however, he was disturbed 
 with a tumultuous noise from the cottage. For 
 Geminius h-d sent a number of men from Tarra- 
 cina in pursuit of him ; and one party coming 
 that way, loudly threatened the old man for 
 having entertained and concealed an enemy to 
 the Romans. Manus, upon this, quitted the 
 cave ; and Imving stripped himself, plunged into 
 the bog, amidst the thick w'ater and mud. This 
 expedient rather discovered than screened him. 
 dney hauled him out naked, and covered with 
 dirt, and carried him to Mintumse, where they 
 dehvered him to the magistrates. For proclama- 
 tion had been made through all those towns, 
 that a general search should be made for Marius, 
 and that he should be pu to death wherever he 
 was found. The magistrates, how'ever, thought 
 proper to consider of it, and sent him under a 
 guard to the house of Fannia This w'oman had 
 an inveterate aversion to Marius. Wh n she 
 was divorced fron her husban : Tinnius, she de- 
 manded her whole fortune, which w'as consider- 
 able, and Tinnius alleging adultery, the cause 
 was brought before Marius, who was then consul 
 for the sixth time. Upon the trial it appeared 
 that Fannia was a woman of bad fam r before her 
 marriage ; and that Tinnius was no stranger to 
 her chaiacter when he married her. Besides, he 
 had hved wn:h her a considerable time in the 
 state of matrimony. The consul, of course, re- 
 primanded them both. The husband was ordered 
 to restore his wife’s fortune, and the wnfe, as a 
 proper mark of her disgrace, was sentenced to 
 pay a fine of four drachmas. 
 
 Fannia, however, forgetful of female resent- 
 ment, entertained and encouraged Marius to the 
 utmost of her power. He acknowledged her 
 
302 PL UTARCH 'S LIVES, 
 
 generosity, and at the same time expressed the 
 greatest vivacity and confidence. The occasion 
 of this was an auspicious omen. When he was 
 conducted to her house, as he approached, and 
 the gate was opened, an ass came out to drink 
 at a neighbouring fountain. The animal, with a 
 vivacity uncommon to its species, fixed its eyes 
 steadfastly on Marius, then brayed aloud, and, 
 as it passed him, skipped wantonly along. The 
 conclusion which he drew from this omen was, 
 that the gods meant he should seek his safety 
 by sea ; for that it was not in consequence of any 
 natural thirst that the ass went to the fountain.* 
 This circumstance he mentioned to Fannia, and 
 having ordered the door of his chamber to be 
 secured, he went to rest. 
 
 However, the magistrates and council of Min- 
 turnse concluded that Marius should immediately 
 be put to death. No citizen would undertake 
 this office ; but a dragoon, either a Gaul or a 
 Cimbrain (for both are mentioned in history), 
 went up to him sword in hand, with an intent 
 to despatch him. The chamber in which he lay 
 was somewhat gloomy, and a light, they tell you, 
 glanced fiom the eyes of Marius, which darted 
 on the face of the assassin ; while at the same 
 time, he heard a solemn voice saying, “ Dost 
 thou dare to kill Marius?” Upon this the as- 
 sassin threw down his sword and fled, crying, 
 “ 1 cannot kill Marius.” The people of Min- 
 turnse were struck with astonishment — pity and 
 remorse ensued —should they put to death the 
 preserver of Italy ? was it not even a disgrace 
 to them that they did not contribute to his re- 
 lief^, “Let him go,” said they; “let the exile 
 go, and await his destiny in some other region ! 
 It is time we should deprecate the anger of the 
 gods, who have refused the poor, the naked 
 wanderer the common privileges of hospitality ! ” 
 Under the influence of this enthusiasm, they 
 immediately conducted him to the sea-coast. Yet 
 in the midst of their officious expedition they 
 met with some delay. The Marician grove, 
 which they hold sacred, and suffer nothing that 
 enters it to be removed, lay immediately in their 
 way. Consequently they could not pass through 
 it, and to go round it would be tedious. At last 
 an old man of the company cried out, that no 
 place, however religious, was inaccessible, if it 
 could contribute to the preservation of Marius. 
 No sooner had he said this, than he took some 
 of the baggage in his hand, and marched through 
 the place. The rest followed with the same 
 alacrity, and when Marius came to the sea-coast, 
 he found a vessel provided for him, by one Be- 
 Iseeus. Some time after he presented a picture 
 repre.senting this event to the temple of Marica.t 
 When Marius set sail, the wind drove him to the 
 island of i^inaria, where he found Gramus and 
 some other iriends, and with them he sailed for 
 Africa. Being in want of fre.sh water, they were 
 obliged to put in at Sicily, where the Roman 
 Quaestor kept such strict watch, that Marius 
 very narrowly escaped, and no fewer than six- 
 teen of the watermen were killed. From thence 
 
 he immediately sailed for the island of Meninx, 
 where he first heard that his son had escaped 
 with Cethegus, and was gone to implore the 
 succour of Hiempsal, king of Numidia. This 
 gave him some encouragement, and immediately 
 he ventured for Carthage. 
 
 The Roman governor in Africa was Sextilius. 
 He had neither received favour nor injury from 
 Marius, but the exile hoped for something from 
 his pity. Fie was just landed, with a few of his 
 men, when an officer came and thus addressed 
 him : “ Marius, I come from the praetor Sex- 
 tilius, to tell you, that he forbids you to set foot 
 in Africa. If you obey not, he will support the 
 senate’s decree, and treat you as a pubFc enemy.” 
 Marius, upon hearing this, was struck dumb with 
 grief and indignation. He uttered not a word 
 for some time, but stood regarding the officer 
 with a menacing aspect. At length, the officer 
 asked him, what answer he should carry to the 
 governor. “ Go and tell him,” said the unfortu- 
 nate man with a sigh, “that thou hast seen the 
 exile Marius sitting on the ruins of Carthage.” * 
 Thus, in the happiest manner in the world, he 
 proposed the fate of that city and his own as 
 warnings to the praetor. 
 
 In the mean time, Hiempsal, king of Numidia, 
 was unresolved how to act with respect to young 
 Marius. He treated him in an honourable manner 
 at his court, but whenever he desired leave to 
 depart, found some pretence or other to detain 
 hijn. At the same time it was plain that these 
 delays did not proceed from any intention of 
 serving him. An accident, however, set him free. 
 The young man was handsome. One of the 
 king’s concubines was affected with his misfor- 
 tunes. Pity soon turned to love. At first he 
 rejected the woman’s advance.s. But when he 
 saw no other way to gain his liberty, and found 
 that her regards were rather delicate than gross, 
 he accepted the tender of her heart ; and by her 
 means escaped with his friends, and came to his 
 father^ 
 
 After the first salutations, as they walked along 
 the shore, they saw two scorpions fighting. This 
 appeared to Marius an ill omen ; they went, 
 therefore, on board a fishing boat, and made 
 for Cercina, an island not far distant from the 
 continent. They were scarce got out to sea, ‘ 
 when they saw a party of the king’s horse on 
 full speed towards the place where they embarked : 
 so that Marius thought he never escaped a more 
 instant danger. 
 
 He was now informed, that while Sylla was 
 engaged in Boeotia with the lieutenants of Mith- 
 ridates, a quarrel had happened between the 
 consuls at Rome,f and that they had recourse 
 to arrns. Octavius, having the advantage, drove 
 out Cinna, who was aiming at absolute power, 
 and appointed Cornelius Merula consul in his 
 room. Cinna collected forces in other parts of 
 Italy, and maintained the war against them. 
 Marius, upon this news, determined to hasten 
 to Cinna. He took with him some Marusian 
 horse, which he had levied in Africa, and a few 
 
 * All that was extraordinary in this circum- 
 stance was, that the ass, like the sheep, is seldom 
 seen to drink. 
 
 t Virgil mentions this nymph, iEn. 7 . 
 
 Et nympha genitum Laurente Marica. 
 
 * There is not, perhaps, anything nobler, or 
 a greater proof of genius, than this saying, in 
 Marius’s whole life. 
 
 t The year of Rome 666 , and eighty-five years 
 before Christ. Cinna was for recalling the exiles, 
 and Octavius was against it. 
 
CA/17S MARIUS. 
 
 — — o°3 
 
 Others that were come to him from Italy, in al 
 not amotmting to above looo men, and with this 
 handful began his voyage. He arrived at a 
 port of Tuscany called Telamon, and as soon as 
 he was landed proclaimed liberty to the slaves. 
 The name of Marius brought down numbers of 
 freemen too, husbandmen, shepherds, and such 
 like to the shore ; the ablest oi which he enlisted, 
 and in a short time had a great army on foot. 
 With which he filled forty ships. He knew Oc- 
 tavius to be a man of good principles, and dis- 
 posed to govern agreeably to justice ; but Cinna 
 vvas obnoxious to his enemy Sylla, and at that 
 time in open war again.st the established govern- 
 ment. He resolved, therefore, to join Cinna with 
 all his forces. Accordingly he sent to acquaint 
 mm, that he con.sidered him as con.sul, and was 
 ready to obey his commands. Cinna accepted 
 n declared him proconsul, and sent him 
 
 the fasces and other en.signs of authority. Hut 
 Marius declined them, alleging that such pomp 
 did not become his ruined fortunes. Instead of 
 that, he wore a mean garment, and let his hair 
 grow, as it had done trom the day of his exile. 
 He was now, indeed, upwards of seventy years 
 old, but he walked with a pace affectedly slow. 
 ±his appearance was intended to excite com- 
 passion. Vet his native fierceness and something 
 more, might be distinguislied amidst all this look 
 of misery ; and it was evident that he was not 
 so much humbled, as exasperated, by his mis- 
 fortunes. 
 
 When he had saluted Cinna, and made a speech 
 to the army, he immediately began his opera- 
 tions, and soon changed the face of affairs. In 
 place, he cut off the enemy’s convoys 
 with his deet, plundered their storeships, and 
 made himself master of the bread-corn. In the 
 next place, he coasted along, and seized the sea- 
 port towns. At last, Ostia itself was betrayed to 
 We pillaged the town, slew most of the 
 inhabitants, and threw a bridge over the Tiber, 
 ^ prevent the carrying of any provisions to 
 Kome by sea. Then he marched to Rome, and 
 posted himself upon the hill called Janiculum. 
 
 Meanwhile, the cause did not suffer so much 
 by the incapacity of Octavius, as by his anxious 
 and unsea-sonable attention to the laws. For 
 when many ot his friends advised him to enfran- 
 chise the slave's, he said, he would not grant 
 such persons the freedom of that city, in defence 
 OI whose constitution he shut out Marius. 
 
 1.1 arrival of Metellus, the son of 
 
 that Metellus who commanded in the African 
 war, and was afterwards banished by Marius, the 
 arniy within the walls leaving Octavius, applied 
 to him, as the better officer, and entreated him 
 to take the command ; adding, that they should 
 tight and conquer, when they had got an able 
 and active general. Metellus, however, rejected 
 their suit with indignation, and bade them rro 
 back to the consul ; instead of which, they went 
 over to the enemy. At the same time Metellus 
 withdrew, giving up the city for lost. 
 
 As for Octavius, he stayed, at the persuasion of 
 ceitam Lhaldiean diviners and expositors of the 
 bibyllme ^oks, who promised him that all would 
 be well. Octavius was indeed one of the most 
 upngnt men among the Romans : he supported 
 his dignity as consul, without giving any ear to 
 laws "and ^ancient 
 
 usages ot his country as rules never to be de- i 
 
 I parted from. Yet he had all the weakness of 
 » superstition, and spent *more of his time with 
 L fortune-tellers and prognosticators than with men 
 > ot political or military abilities. However before 
 Manus entered the city, Octavius was dVa-ged 
 trom the tribunal and slain by persons commis- 
 sioned tor that purpose, and it is said that a 
 Uialdacan scheme was found in his bosom as he 
 lay. It seems unaccountable, that of two such 
 generals as Marius and Octavius, the one should 
 be saved, and the other ruined, by a confidence 
 m divination. 
 
 While affairs were in this posture, the senate 
 assembled, and sent some of tueir own body to 
 Cinna and Marius, with a request that they 
 should come into the city, but spare the inhabi- 
 tants. Cinna, as consul, received them, sitting 
 in his chair of state, and gave them an obliging 
 answer. But Manus stood by the consul’s chair, 
 and spoke not a word. He showed, however, by 
 the gloominess of his look, and the menacing 
 sense o. his eye, that he would soon fill the city 
 with blood. Immediately after thi.s, they moved 
 forwards towards Rome. Cinna entered the city 
 with a strong guard : but Manus stopped at the 
 gates, with a dnssimulation dictated by his resent- 
 ment. He said, he was a banished man, and 
 the laws prohibited his return. If his country 
 wanted his service, she must repeal the law which 
 drove him into exile. As if he had a real regard 
 for the laws, or were entering a city still in 
 possession of its liberty. 
 
 The people, therefore, were summoned to 
 assemble for that purpose. But before three or 
 four tribes had given their suffrages, he put off 
 the mask, and, without waiting for the formality 
 of a repeal, entered with a guard selected .rum 
 the slaves that had repaired to lus standard. 
 
 1 hese he called his Bardiaean.s. * At the least 
 word or sign given by Marius, they murdered all 
 whom he marked for destruction. So that when 
 Ancharius, a senator, and a man of praetorian 
 dignity, saluted Marius, and he returned not the 
 salutation, they killed him in liis presence. After 
 this, they considered it as a signal to kill any 
 man, who saluted Marius in the streets, and was 
 not taken any notice of : so that his very friends 
 were seized with horror, whenever they went to 
 pay their respects to iiim. 
 
 When they had butchered great numbers, 
 Cinna's revenge began to pall ; it was satiated 
 with blood but the lury of Marius seemed 
 rather to increase : his appetite for slaugliter was 
 sharpened by indulgence, and he went on destroy- 
 ing all who gave liim the least shadow of sus- 
 picion. Every road, every town was full of 
 assassins, pursuing and hunting the unhappy 
 victims. 
 
 On this occasion it was found, that no obliga- 
 tions ot riendship, no rights of hospitality can 
 stand the shock of ill fortune. l*or tiicre were 
 very few who did not betray those that had taken 
 refuge in their houses. The slaves of Cornutus, 
 therefore, deserve the highest admiration. They 
 hid their master in the douse, and took a dead 
 body out of the street from among the slain, and 
 hanged it by the neck ; then they put a gold ring 
 
 * M. de Thou conjectured that we should read 
 Bardyetae, because there was a fierce and bar- 
 barous people in Spain of that name. Some 
 manuscripts have Ortiseans. 
 
PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 upon the finger, and showed the corpse in that 
 condition to Marius’s executioners ; after which 
 they dressed it for the funeral, and buried it as 
 their master’s body. No one suspected the 
 matter ; and Cornutus, after being concealed as 
 long as it was necessary, was conveyed by those 
 servants into Galatia. 
 
 JNlark Antony the orator likewise found a faith- 
 ful friend, but did not save his life by it. This 
 friend of his was in a low station of life : how- 
 ever, as he had one of the greatest men of Rome 
 under his roof, he entertained him in the best 
 manner he could, and often sent to a neighbour- 
 ing tavern for wine for him. The vintner finding 
 that the servant who fetched it was something of 
 a connoisseur in tasting the wine, and in.sisted on 
 having better, asked him why he was not satisfied 
 with the common new wine he used to have ; 
 but wanted the best and the dearest. The 
 servant, in the simplicity of his heart, told him, 
 as his friend and acquaintance, that the wine was 
 for Mark Antony, who lay concealed in his 
 master's house. As soon as he was gone, the 
 knowing vintner went himself to Marius, who 
 was then at supper ; and told him he could put 
 Antony into his power ; upon which, _ Marius 
 clapped his hands in the agitation of joy, and 
 would even have left his company, and gone to 
 the place himself, had not he been dissuaded by 
 his friends. However, he sent an officer, named 
 ,Annius, with some soldiers, and ordered him to 
 bring the head of Antony. When they came to 
 the house, Annius stood at the door, while the 
 soldiers got up by a ladder into Antony’s cham- 
 ber. When they saw him, they encouraged each 
 other to the execution ; but such was the power 
 of his eloquence, when he pleaded for his life, 
 that, so far from laying hands upon him, they 
 stood motionless, with dejected eyes, and wept. 
 During this delay, Annius goes up, beholds 
 Antony addressing the soldiers, and the soldiers 
 confounded by the force of his address. Upon 
 this, he reproved them for their weakness, and 
 with his own hand cut off the orator’s head. 
 Lutatius Catulus, the colleague of Marius, who 
 had jointly triumphed with him over the Cimbri, 
 finding that every intercessory effort was vain, 
 shut himself up in a narrow chamber, and 
 suffered himself to be suffocated by the steam of 
 a large coal fire. When the bodies were thrown 
 out and trod upon in the streets, it was not pity 
 they excited ; it was horror and dismay. But 
 what shocked the people much more was the con- 
 duct of the Bardiseans, who after they had mur- 
 dered the masters of tamilies, exposed the naked- 
 ness of their children, and indulged their passions 
 with their wives. In short, their violence and 
 rapacity were beyond all restraint, till Cinna and 
 Sertorius determined in council, to fall upon them 
 in their sleep, and cut them off to a man. 
 
 At this time the tide of affairs took a sudden 
 turn. News was brought that Sylla had put an 
 end to the Mithridatic war, and that after having 
 reduced the provinces, he was returning to Rome 
 with a large army, 'i'his gave a short respite, a 
 breathing from these inexpressible troubles; as 
 the apprehensions of war had been universally 
 prevalent. Marius was now chosen consul the 
 seventh time, and as he was walking out on the 
 calends of January, the fii’st day of the year, he 
 ordered Sextus Lucinus to be seized, and thrown 
 down the Tarpeian rock ; a circumstance, which 
 
 occasioned an unhappy presage of app/oaching 
 evils. The consul himself, worn out with a series 
 of misfortunes and distress, found his faculties 
 fail, and trembled at the approach of wars and 
 conflicts. For he considered that it was not an 
 Octavius, a Merula, the desperate leaders ot a 
 small sedition, he had to contend with, but Sylla, 
 the conqueror of Mithridates, and the banisher 
 of Marius. Thus agitated, thus revolving the 
 miseries, the flights, the dangers he had ex- 
 perienced both by land and sea, his inquietude 
 affected him even by night, and a voice seemed 
 continually to pronounce in his ear : 
 
 Dread are the slumbers of the distant lion. 
 
 Unable to support the painfulness of watching, 
 he had recourse to the bottle, and gave in to those 
 excesses which b}^ no means suited his years. At 
 last, when, by intelligence from sea, he was con- 
 vinced of the approach of Sylla, his apprehen- 
 sions were heightened to the greatest degree. 
 The dread of his approach, the pain of continual 
 anxiery, threw him into a pleuritic fever ; and in 
 this state, Posidonius, the philosopher, tells us, 
 he found him, when he went to speak to him, on 
 some affairs of his embassy. But Caius Piso the 
 historian relates, that walking out with his friends 
 one evening at supper, he gave them a short 
 history of his life, and after expatiating on the 
 uncertainty of fortune, concluded that it was 
 beneath the dignity of a wise man to live in 
 subjection to that fickle deity. Upon this, he 
 took leave of his friends, and betaking himself to 
 his bed, died seven days after. There are those 
 who impute his death to the excess of his am- 
 bition, which, according to their account, threw 
 him into a delirium ; insomuch that he fancied he 
 was carrying on the war against Mithridates, and 
 uttered all the expressions used in an engage- 
 ment. Such was the violence ot his ambition for 
 that command ! 
 
 Thus, at the age of seventy, distinguished by 
 the unparalleled honour of seven consulships, 
 and possessed of more than regal fortune, Marius 
 died with the chagrin of an - unfortunate wretch, 
 who had not obtained what he wanted. 
 
 Plato, at the point of death, congratulated him- 
 self, in the first place, that he was born a man ; 
 in the next place, that he had the happiness of 
 being a Greek, not a brute or barbarian ; and 
 last of all, that he was the contemporary of 
 Sophocles. Antipater of Tarsus, too, a little be- 
 fore his death, recollected the several advantages 
 of his life, not forgetting even his successful 
 voyage to Athens. In settling his accounts with 
 Fortune, he carefully entered every agreeable 
 circumstance in that excellent book of the mind, 
 his memory. How much wiser, how much 
 
 happier than those, who, forgetful of every 
 blessing they have received, hang on the vain 
 and deceitful hand of hope, and while they are 
 idly grasping at future acquisitions, neglect the 
 enjoyment of the present ! though the future 
 gifts of fortune are not in their power, and though 
 their present possessions are not in the power of 
 fortune, they look up to the former and neglect 
 the latter. Their punishment, however, is not 
 less just than it is certain. Before philosophy 
 and the cultivation of reason have laid a proper 
 foundation for the management of wealth and 
 power, they pursue them with that avidity, which 
 must for ever harass an undisciplined mind. 
 
LYSANDER, 
 
 Marius died on the seventeenth day of his 
 seventh consulship. His death was productive 
 oi the greatest joy in Rome, and the citizens 
 looked upon it as an event that freed them from 
 the worst of tyrannies. It was not long, how- 
 ever before they found that they had changed 
 an old and feeble tyrant, for one who had youth 
 and vigour to carry his cruelties into execution, 
 ouch they found the son of Marius, whose san- 
 
 305 
 
 spirit showed itself in the destruction of 
 numbers of the nobility. His martial intrepidity 
 behaviour at first procured him the 
 ^ a ^ Mars, but his conduct after- 
 
 wards denominated him the son of Venus wLn 
 Preneste, and had tried every 
 httle artifice to escape, he put an end to his hfe^ 
 that he might not fail into the hands of Sylia ^ 
 
 LYSANDER. 
 
 Among tne sacred deposits of the Acanthians at 
 -L»alphi, one has this inscription, “ Bras Idas 
 AND THE AcaNTHII TOOK THIS FROM THE ATHE- 
 NIANS. Hence many are of opinion, that the 
 marble statue, which stands in the chapel of that 
 nation, just by the door, is the statue of Brasidas. 
 Jjut in fact It IS Lysander’s, whom it perfectly 
 represents with his hair at full growth, ! and a 
 length of beard, both after the ancient fashion. 
 ^1? ^ indeed (as some would have it) 
 
 that while tne Argives cut their hair in sorrovv 
 lor the loss of a great battle, X the Lacedemo- 
 nians began to let theirs grow in the joy of 
 success Lor did they first give into this custom, 
 when the Bacchiade § fled from Corinth to Lace- 
 demon, and made a disagreeable appearance 
 with their shora locks. But it is derived from the 
 institution of Lycurgus, who is reported to have 
 said, that long hair makes the handsome more 
 beautiful, and the ugly more terrible.” 
 Aristochtus, 0 the father of Lysander, is said 
 not to have been of the royal line, but to be de- 
 scended from the Heraclidae by another family. 
 As lor Lysander, he was bred up in poverty 
 Lo one conformed more freely to the Spartan 
 discipline than he. He had a firm be irt, above 
 yielding to the charms of any pleasure, except 
 that which results f»>m the honour and success 
 gained by great actions. And it was no fault at 
 Sparta for young men to be led by this sort of 
 pleasure. There they chose to instil into their 
 children an early passion for glor}^ and teach 
 them to be much affected by disgrace, as well as 
 elated by praise. And he that is not moved at 
 these thin^ is despised as a person of a mean 
 ^^^^^bitious of the improvements of \’irtue. 
 That love of fame, then, and jealousy of honour. 
 
 Brasidas, when general of the Lacedsemo- 
 nians. persuaded the people of Acanthus to quit 
 the Athenian interest, and to receive the Spartans 
 into their city. In consequence of which he 
 joined with them in consecrating certain Athenian 
 spoils to Apollo. The statue, therefore, probably 
 was his, though Plutarch thinks otherwise FzV/ 
 Thucyd. lib. iv. 
 
 t Why might not Brasidas, who was a Lace- 
 daemonian, and a contemporary of Lysander be 
 with long hair as well as he ? * 
 
 bis w^^the opinion of Herodotus, but j>er- 
 
 ^P an oligarchy in 
 years, but were at last expelled 
 
 HERC?.rvf 
 
 0 Pausanias calls him Aristocritus. 
 
 which ever influenced Lysander, were imbibed 
 K consequently nature is not 
 
 t^o be blamed for them. But the attention which 
 ne paid the great, in a manner that did not be- 
 come a Spartan, and that easiness with which he 
 bore the pnde of power, whenever his own in- 
 terest was TOncerned, may be ascribed to his dis- 
 P.j^n^on. This complaisance, however, is con- 
 sidered by some as no small part of politics. 
 
 Aristotle somewhere observes, * that areat 
 geniu^ses are generally of a melancho.y turn of 
 winch he gives instances in Socrates, Plato, and 
 Hercules ; and he tells us that Lysander, though 
 not m Ins youth, yet in his age was inclined to it. 
 
 thT, i,“°f " his character is. 
 
 that though he bore poverty well himself, and 
 was never either conquered or corrupted by 
 money yet he filled Sparta wnth it, and with the 
 love of It too, and robbed her of the glory she 
 had of de.spising nches. For, after the Athenian 
 war, he brougnt m a great quantity of gold and 
 Sliver, but resented no part of it for himself, 
 when Dionpus the t5Tant sent his daughters 
 Sicilian garmpts, he refused them, 
 alleging ne %v^ afraid those fine clothes would 
 make them look more homely. Being sent, how- 
 ever, swn SL.ter, ambassador to Dionysius, the 
 tyrant offered him tw'o vests, that he might take 
 c^vi V daughter ; upon which, he 
 
 ^id his daughter knew better how to choose than 
 he, and so took them both. 
 
 peat length, the Athenians, after their overthrow 
 driven out of the sea, 
 ^nd themselves upon the verge of ruin. But 
 Aicpiades, on his return from banishment, 
 applied himself to remedy this evil, and soon 
 made such a ch^ge, that the Athenians w^ere 
 once more equal in naval conflicts to the Lace- 
 daemonians. _ Hereupon the Lacedaemonians be- 
 gan to be Mraid in their turn, and resolved to 
 prospute the war with double diligence ; and 
 as they saw it required an able general as w'ell 
 as great prep^ations, they gave the con^mand at 
 sea to Lj'sander.f 
 
 ynen be came to Ephesus, he found that city 
 well inclmed to the Lacedaemonians, but in a bad 
 internal policy, and in danger 
 of filing into the barbarous manners of the 
 Persians ; because it was near Lydia, and the 
 kings heutenants often visited it. Lysander 
 therefore, havmg fixed his quarters there, ordered 
 
 * Problem, sect. 30. 
 
 the first year of the ninety-eighth oKun- 
 piad, four hundred and six years before Christ 
 
^o 6 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 all his store-ships to be brought into their har- 
 bour, and built a dock for his galleys. By these 
 means he filled their ports with merchants, their 
 market with business, and their houses and shops 
 with money. So that, from time and from his 
 services, Ephesus began to conceive hopes of 
 that greatness and splendour in which it now 
 flourishes. , , . , 
 
 As soon as he heard that Cyrus, the king s son, 
 was arrived at Sardis, he went thither to confer 
 with him, and to acquaint him with the treachery 
 of Tisaphernes. That viceroy had an order to 
 assist the Lacedaemonians, and to destroy the 
 naval force of the Athenians ; but, by reason of 
 his part ality to Alcibiades, he acted with no 
 vigour, and sent such poor supplies, that the fleet 
 was almost ruined. Cyrus was very glad to find 
 this charge against Tisaphernes, knowing him to 
 be a man of bad character in general, and an 
 enemy to him in particular. By this and the rest 
 of his conversation, but most of all by the respect 
 and attention which he paid him, Lysander re- 
 commended himself to the young prince, and 
 engaged him to prosecute the war. When the 
 Lacedaemonian was going to take his leave, Cyrus 
 desired him, at an entertainment provided on that 
 occasion, not to refuse the marks of his regard, 
 but to ask some favour of him. “As you are so 
 very kind to me.” said Lysander, “ I beg you® 
 would add an obolus to the seamen s pay, so that 
 instead of three oboli a day, they may have four.” 
 Cyrus, charmed with this generous answer, made 
 him a present of 10,000 pieces of gold.* Lysander 
 employed the money to increase the wages of his 
 men, and by this encouragement in a short time 
 almost emptied the enemy’s ships. For great 
 numbers came over to him, when they knew they 
 should have better pay ; and those who remained 
 became indolent and mutinous, and gave their 
 officers continual trouble. But though Lysander 
 had thus drained and weakened his adversaries, he 
 was afraid to risk a naval engagement ; knowing 
 Alcibiades not only to be a commander of extra- 
 ordinary abilities, but to have the advantage in 
 number of ships, as well as to have been success- 
 ful in all the battles he had fought, whether by 
 sea or land. 
 
 However, when Alcibiades was gone from 
 Samos to Phocsea, and had left the command of 
 the fleet to his pilot Antiochus, the pilot, to insult 
 Lysander, and show his own bravery, sailed to 
 the harbour of Ephesus with two galleys only, 
 where he hailed the Lacedaemonian fleet with a 
 great deal of noise and laughter, and passed by 
 in the most insolent manner imaginable. Ly- 
 sander, resenting the affront, got a few of his 
 ships under sail, and gave chase. But when he 
 saw the Athenians come to support Antiochus, 
 he called up more of his galleys, and at last the 
 action became general. Lysander gained the 
 victory, took fifteen ships, and erected a trophy. 
 Hereupon the people of Athens, incensed at Alci- 
 biades, took the command from him ; and, as he 
 found himself slighted and censured by the army 
 at .'^amos too, he quitted it, and withdrew to 
 Chersonesus. d'his battle, though not consider- 
 able in itself, was made so by the misfortunes of 
 Alcibiades. 
 
 Lysander now invited to Ephesus the boldest 
 and most enterprising inhabitants of the Greek 
 
 cities in Asia, and sowed among them the seeds 
 of those aristocratical forms of government which 
 afterwards took place. He encouraged them to 
 enter into associations, and to turn their thoughts 
 to politics, upon promise that when Athens was 
 once subdued, the popular government in their 
 cities too should be dissolved, and the administra- 
 tion vested in them. His actions gave them a 
 confidence in his promise. For those who were 
 already attached to him by friendship or the 
 rights of hospitality, he advanced to the highest 
 honours and employments ; not scrupling to join 
 with them in any act of fraud or oppression, to 
 satisfy their avarice and ambition. So that every 
 one endeavoured to ingratiate himself with Ly- 
 sander ; to him* they paid their court ; they fixed 
 their hearts upon him ; persuaded that nothing 
 was too great for them to expect, while he had 
 the management of affairs. Hence it was, that 
 from the first they looked with an ill eye on 
 Callicratidas, who succeeded him in the command 
 of the fleet : and though they afterwards found 
 him the best and most upright of men, they were 
 not satisfied with his conduct, which they thought 
 had too much of the Doric * plainness and sin- 
 cerity. It is true, they admired the virtue of 
 Callicratidas, as they would the beauty of some 
 hero’s statue ; but they wanted the countenance, 
 the indulgence, and support they had experienced 
 in Lysander, insomuch that when he left them, 
 they were quite dejected, and melted into tears. 
 
 Indeed he took every method he could think of 
 to strengthen their aversion to Callicratidas. He 
 even sent back to Sardis the remainder of the 
 money which Cyrus had given him for the supply 
 of the fleet, and bade his successor go and ask 
 for it, as he had done, or contrive some other 
 means for the maintenance of his forces. And 
 when he was upon the point of sailing, he made 
 this declaration, “I deliver to you a fleet that is 
 mistre.ss of the seas.” Callicratidas, willing to 
 show the insolence and vanity of his boast, said, 
 “ Why do not you then take Samos on the left, 
 and sail round to Miletus, and deliver the fleet 
 to me there ? for we need not be afraid of passing 
 by our enemies in that island, if we are masters 
 of the seas.” Lysander made only this superficial 
 answer, “ You have the command of the ships, 
 and not I ; ” and immediately set sail for Pelo- 
 ponnesus. 
 
 Callicratidas was left in great difficulties. For 
 he had not brought money from home with him, 
 nor did he choose to raise contributions from 
 the cities, which were already distressed. The 
 only way left, ti erefore, was to go, as Lysander 
 had done, and beg it of the king’s lieutenanLs. 
 And no one was more unfit for such an office, than 
 a man of his free and great spirit, who thought 
 any loss that Grecians might sustain from 
 Grecians, pre erable to an abject attendance at 
 the doors of barbarians, who had indeed a great 
 deal of gold, but nothing else to boast of. Neces- 
 sity, however, forced him into Lydia ; where he 
 went directly to the palace of Cyrus, and bade 
 the porters tell him, that Callicratidas, the Spartan 
 admiral, desired to speak with him. “Stranger,” 
 said one of the fellows, “ Cyrus is not at leisure ; 
 he is drinking.” “’Tis very well,” said Calli- 
 
 * Dacier refers this to the Dor an music. But 
 the Doric manners had a simplicity in them, as 
 well as the music. 
 
 * Darici. 
 
LYSANDER, 
 
 307 
 
 cratidas, with great simplicity, “ I will wait here 
 till he has done.” But when he found that these 
 people considered him as a rustic, and only laughed 
 at him, he went away. He came a second time, 
 and could not gain admittance. And now he 
 could bear it no longer, but returned to Ephesus, 
 venting execrations against those who first cringed 
 to the barbarians, and taught them to be insolent 
 on account of their wealth. At the same time he 
 protested, that as soon as he was got back to 
 Sparta, he would use his utmost endeavours to 
 reconcile the Grecians among themselves, and 
 to make them formidable to the barbarians, in- 
 stead of their poorly petitioning those people for 
 assistance against each other. But this Calli- 
 cratidas, who had sentiments so worthy of a 
 Spanan, and who, in point of justice, magna- 
 nimity, and valour, was equal to the best of the 
 Greeks, fell soon after in a sea-fight at Arginusas, 
 where he lost the day. 
 
 Affairs being now in a declining condition, the 
 confederates sent an embassy to Sparta, to desire 
 that the command of the navy might be restored 
 to Lysander, promising to support the cause with 
 much greater vigour, it he had the direction of it. 
 Cyrus, too, made the same requisition. But as 
 the law forbade the same person to be chosen 
 adrniral twice, and yet the Lacedaemonians were 
 willing to oblige their allies, they vested a nominal 
 command in one Aracus, while Lysander, who 
 was called lieutenant, had the power. His arrival 
 was very agreeable to those who had, or wanted 
 to have, the chief authority in the Asiatic cities : 
 for he had long given them hopes, that the 
 democracy would be abolished, and the govern- 
 ment devolv'e entirely upon them. 
 
 As for those who loved an (.pen and generous 
 proceeding, when they compared Ly.sander and 
 Callicratidas, the former appeared only a man of 
 craft and subtlety, who directed his operations 
 by a set of artful expedients, and measured the 
 v?lue of justice by the advantage it brought ; 
 who, in short, thought interest the thing of 
 superior excellence, and that nature had made 
 no difference between truth and falsehood, but 
 either was recommended by its use. When he 
 was told it did not become the descendants of 
 Hercules to adopt such artful expedients, he 
 turned it off with a jest, and said, “Where the 
 lion s skin fails short, it must be eked out with 
 the fox’s.” 
 
 There was a remarkable instance of this 
 subtlety in h:s behaviour at Miletus. His 
 fnends and others v/ith whom he had connec- 
 tions there, who had promised to abolish the 
 popular government, and to drive out all that 
 favour^ It, had changed their mind.s, and recon- 
 mled themselves to their adversaries. In public 
 he pretended to rejoice at the event, and to 
 cement the union ; but in private he loaded them 
 With reproaches, and excited them to attack the 
 commons. However, when he knew the tumult 
 was begun, he entered the city in haste, and 
 running up to the leaders of the .sedition, gave 
 them a severe reprimand, and threatened to 
 punish them in an exemplary manner. At the 
 same time he desired the people to be perfectly 
 easy, and to fear no farther disturbance while he 
 which he acted only like an 
 artf^ul dissembler, to hinder the heads of the 
 plebeian party from quitting the city, and to 
 make sure of their being put to the sword there. 
 
 Accordingly there was not a man that trusted to 
 his honour who did not lose his li.'e. 
 
 There is a saying, too, of Lysander’s, re- 
 corded by Androclides, which shows the little 
 regard he had for oaths : “ Children,” he said, 
 “ were to be cheated with cockalls, and men 
 with oaths.” In this he followed the example of 
 Polycrates of Samos : though it ill became a 
 general of an army to imitate a tyrant, and was 
 unworthy of a Lacedaemonian to hold the gods 
 in a more contemptible light than even his 
 enemies. For he who overreaches by a false 
 oath, declares that he fears his enemy, but 
 de.spises his God. 
 
 Cyrus, having sent for Lysander to Sardi.s, 
 presented him with great sums, and promi.sed 
 more. Nay, to show how high he was in his 
 favour, he went so far as to a.ssure him that, if 
 his father would give him nothing, he would 
 supply him out of his own tortune ; and if every- 
 thing else failed, he would mielt (down the very 
 throne on which he sat when he administered 
 justice, and which was all of massy gold and 
 silver. And when he went to attend his father 
 in Media, he assigned him the tribute of the 
 t()wns, and put the care of his whole province in 
 his hands. At parting he embraced, and en- 
 treated him not to engage the Athenians at sea 
 before his return, because he intended to bring 
 with him a great fleet out of PhiEnicia and 
 Cilicia. 
 
 After the departure of the prince, Lysander 
 did not choose to fight the enemy, who were not 
 interior to him in force, nor yet to lie idle with 
 .such a number of ships, and therefore he (muised 
 about and reduced some islands. /Egina and 
 Salamis he pillaged ; and from thence sailed to 
 Attica, where he waited on Agis, who was come 
 down from Decelea to the coast, to show his 
 land forces what a powerful navy there was, 
 which gave them the command of the .seas in a 
 manner they could not hav^e expected. Ly- 
 sander, however, seeing the Athenians in chase 
 ot him, steered another way back through the 
 islands to Asia. As he found the Hellespont 
 unguarded, he attacked Lamp.sacus by sea, 
 while Thorax made an assault upon it by land ; 
 in consequence of which the city was taken, and' 
 the plunder given to the troops. In the mean 
 tinie the Athenian fleet, which consisted of 120 
 ships, had advanced to Eleus, a city in the 
 Chersone.sus. There getting intelligence that 
 Lampsacus was lost, they sailed immediately to 
 Sestos ; where they took in provi.sions, and tuen 
 proceeded to iEgos Potamos. I’hey were now 
 just opposite the enemy, who still lay at anchor 
 near Lampsacus. The Athenians were under 
 the command of several officers, among whom 
 Philocles was one ; the same who persuaded the 
 people to make a decree that the prisoners of 
 war should have their right thumbs cut off, that 
 they might be disabled from handling a pike, 
 but still be serviceable at the oar. 
 
 For the present they all went to rest, in hopes 
 of coming to an action next day. But Lysander 
 had another des gn. He commanded the sea- 
 men and pitots to go on board, as if he intended 
 to fight at break of day. These were to wait in 
 silence for orders, the land forces were to form 
 on the shore, and watch the signal. At sunrise 
 the Athenians drew up in a line directly before 
 the Lacedaemonians, and gave the challenge. 
 
3 o 8 PLUTARCWS lives. 
 
 Lysander, though he had manned his ships over 
 night, and stood facing the enemy, did not 
 accept of it. On the contrary, he sent orders 
 by his pinnaces to those ships that were in the 
 van not to stir, but to keep the line without 
 making the least motion. In the evening, when 
 the Athenians retired, he would not suffer one 
 man to land, till two or three galleys which he 
 had sent to look out, returned with an account 
 that the enemy were disembarked. Next morn- 
 ing they ranged themselves in the same manner, 
 and the like was practised a day or two longer. 
 This made the Athenians very confident ; they 
 considered their adversaries as a dastardly set 
 of men, who durst not quit their station. 
 
 Meanwhile Alcibiades, who lived in a castle 
 of his own in the Chersonesus, rode to the 
 Athenian camp, and represented to the generals 
 two material errors they had committed. The 
 first v/as, that they had stationed their ships 
 near a dangerous and naked shore : the other, 
 that they were so far from Sestos, from whence 
 they were forced to fetch all their provisions. 
 He told them it was their business to sail to the 
 port of Sestos without loss of time ; where they 
 would be at a greater distance from the enemy, 
 who were watching their opportunity with an 
 army commanded by one man, and so well 
 disciplined, that they would execute his orders 
 upon the least signal. These were the lessons 
 he gave them, but they did not regard him. 
 Nay, Tydeus said with an air of contempt, 
 “You are not general now, but we.” Alcibiades 
 even suspected some treachery, and thereiore 
 withdrew. 
 
 On the fifth day, when the ALthenians had 
 offered battle, they returned, as usual, in_ a 
 careless and disdainful manner. Upon this, 
 Lysander detached some galleys to observe 
 them ; and ordered the officers, as soon as they 
 saw the Athenians landed, to sail back as fast 
 as possible ; and when they were come half way, 
 to lift up a brazen shield at the head of each 
 ship, as a signal for him to advance. He then 
 sailed through all the line, and gave instructions 
 to the captains and pilots to have all their men 
 in good order, as well mariners as soldiers ; 
 and, when the signal was given, to push forward 
 with the utmost vigour against the enemy. As 
 soon, therefore, as the signal appeared, the 
 trumpet sounded in the admiral galley, the 
 ships began to move on, and the land forces 
 hastened along the shore to seize the pro- 
 montory. The space between the two con- 
 tinents in that place is fifteen furlongs, which 
 was soon overshot by the diligence and spirits 
 of the rowers. Conon, the Athenian general, 
 was the first that descried them from land, and 
 hastened to get his men on board. Sensible of 
 the impending danger, some he comr^nded, 
 some he entreated, and others he forced into the 
 ships. But all his endeavours were in vain. 
 His men, not in the least expecting a surprise, 
 were dispersed up and down, some in the 
 market-place, some in the fields ; some were 
 asleep in their tents, and some preparing their 
 dinner. All this was owing to the inexperience 
 of their commanders, which had made them 
 quite regardless of what might happen.^ The 
 shouts and the noise of the enemy rushing on 
 to the attack were now heard, when Conon fled 
 with eight ships, and escaped to Evagoras, king 
 
 of Cyprus. The Peloponnesians fell upon the 
 rest, took those that v/ere empty, and disabled 
 the others, as the Athenians were embarking. 
 Their soldiers, coming unarmed and in a strag- 
 gling manner to defend the ships, perished in 
 the attempt, and those that fled were slain by 
 that part of the enemy which had ^ landed. 
 Lysander took 3000 prisoners, and seized the 
 whole fleet, except the sacred galley called 
 Peralus, and those that escaped with Conon. 
 When he had fastened the captive galleys to his 
 own, and plundered the camp, he returned to 
 Lampsacus, accompanied with the flutes and 
 songs of tiiumph. This great action cost him 
 but little blood ; in one hour he put an end to a 
 long and tedious war,* which had been diver- 
 sified beyond all others by an incredible variety 
 of events. This cruel war, which had occa- 
 sioned so many battles, appeared in such dif- 
 ferent forms, produced such vicissitudes of 
 fortune, and destroyed more generals than all 
 the wars of Greece put together, was terminated 
 by the conduct and capacity of one man. Some 
 therefore esteemed it the effect of a divine inter- 
 position. There were those who said that the 
 stars of Castor and Pollux appeared on each 
 side the helm of Lysander’s ship, w'hen he first 
 set out against the Athenians. Others thought 
 that a stone which, according to the common 
 opinion, fell from heaven, was an omen of this 
 overthrow. It fell at iEgos Potamos, and was 
 of a prodigious size. The people oi the Cher- 
 soiiesus hold it in great veneration, and show it 
 to this day.t It is said that Anaxagoras had 
 foretold that one of those bodies which are fixed 
 to the vault of heaven would one day be loosened 
 by some shock or convulsion of the whole 
 machine, and fall to the earth. For he taught 
 that the stars are not now in the places where 
 they were originally formed ; that being of a 
 stony substance and heavy, the light they give 
 is caused only by the reflection and refraction of 
 the ether ; and that they are carried along, and 
 kept in their orbits, by the rapid motion of the 
 heavens, which from the beginning, when the 
 cold ponderous bodies were separated from the 
 rest, hindered them from falling. 
 
 But there is another and more probable 
 opinion, which holds that falling stars are not 
 emanations or detached parts of the elementary 
 fire, that go out the moment they are kindled ; 
 nor yet a quantity of air bursting out from some 
 compression, and taking fire in the upper region ; 
 but that they are really heavenly bodies, which, 
 from some relaxation of the rapidity of their 
 motion, or by some irregular concussion, are 
 loosened, and fall, not so much upon the habit- 
 able part of the globe, as into the ocean, which 
 is the reason that their substance is seldom 
 seen. 
 
 Damachus,t however, in his treatise concern- 
 
 * This war had lasted twenty-seven years, 
 t This victory was gained the fourth year of 
 the ninety-third olympiad, 403 years before the 
 birth of Christ. And it is pretended that Anax- 
 agoras had delivered his prediction sixty-two 
 years before the battle. Plin. xi. 58. 
 
 X Not Damachus, but Diamachus of Platfca, 
 a very fabulous writer, and ignorant of the 
 mathematics : in which, as well as history, he 
 i pretended to great knowledge. Strab. lib. i. 
 
LYSANDER. 
 
 309 
 
 itig religion confirms the opinion of Anaxagoras. 
 He relates, that for seventy-five days together, 
 before that stone fell, there was seen in the 
 heavens a large body of fire, like an inflamed 
 cloud, not fixed to one place, but carried this 
 way and that with a broken and irregular 
 motion ; and that by its violent agitation several 
 fiery fragments were forced from it, which were 
 impelled in various directions, and darted with 
 the celerity and brightness of so many tailing 
 stars. After this body was fallen in the Cher- 
 sonesus, and the inhabitants, recovered from 
 their terror, assembled to see it, they could find 
 no inflammable matter, or the least sign of fire, 
 but a real stone, which, though large, was 
 nothing to the size of that fiery globe they had 
 seen in the sky, but appeared only as a bit 
 crumbled from it. It is plain that Damachus 
 must have very indulgent readers, if this account 
 of his gains credit. If it is a true one, it abso- 
 lutely refutes those who say that this stone was 
 nothing but a rock rent by a tempest from the 
 top of a mountain, which, after being borne for 
 some time in the air by a whirlwind, settled in 
 the first placer where the violence of that abated. 
 Perhaps at last, this phenomenon, which con- 
 tinued so many days, was a real globe of fire ; 
 and when that globe came to disperse and draw 
 'towards extinction, it might cause such a change 
 in the air, and produce such a violent whirlwind, 
 as tore the stone from its native bed, and dashed 
 it on the plaiii. But these are discussions that 
 belong to writings of another nature. 
 
 When the 3000 Athenian prisoners were con- 
 demned by the council to die, Lysander called 
 Phiiocles, one of the generals, and asked him 
 what punishment he thought he deserved, who 
 had given his citizens such cruel advice with 
 respect to the Greeks. Phiiocles, undismayed by 
 his niisfortunes, made answer, ‘‘Do not start a 
 question, where there is no judge to decide it ; 
 but now you ai'e a conqueror, proceed as you 
 would have been proceeded with, had you been 
 conquered.” After this he bathed, and dressed 
 himself in a rich robe, and then led his country- 
 men to execution, being the first, according to 
 Theophrastus, who offered his neck to the 
 axe. 
 
 Lysander next visited the maritime towns, and 
 ordered all the Athenians he found, upon pain of 
 death to repair to Athens. His design was, that 
 the crowds he drove into the city might soon 
 occasion a famine, and so prevent the trouble of 
 a long siege, which must have been the case, if 
 provisions had been plentiful. Wherever he 
 came, he abolished the democratic, and other 
 forms of government, and set up a Lacedaemonian 
 governor, called harmostes, assisted by ten 
 Archons, who were to be drawn from the societies 
 he established. _ These changes be made as he 
 sailed about at his leisure, not only in the enemy’s 
 cities, but in those of his allies, and by this means 
 in a manner engrossed to himself the principality 
 of all Greece. F or in appointing governors he had 
 no regard to family or opulence, but chose them 
 from among his own friends or out of the brother- 
 hoods he had erected, and invested them with 
 full power of life and death. He even assisted in 
 person at executions, and drove out all that 
 opposed his friends and favourites. Thus he gave 
 the Greeks a very indifferent specinien of the 
 Lacedaemonian government. Therefore, Theo- 
 
 pompus,* the comic writer, was under a great 
 mistake, when he compared the Lacedaemonians 
 to vintners, who at first gave Greece a delightful 
 draught of liberty, but afterwards dashed the 
 wine with vinegar. The draught from the begin- 
 ning was disagreeable and bitter ; for Lysander 
 not only took the administration out of the hands 
 of the people, but composed his oligarchies of the 
 boldest and most factious of the citizens. 
 
 When he had despatched this business, which 
 did not take up any long time, he sent messengers 
 to Lacedaemon, with an account that he was 
 returning with 200 ships. He went, however, to 
 Attica, where he joined the kings Agis and Pau- 
 sanias, in expectation of the immediate surrender 
 of Athens. But finding that the Athenians made 
 a vigorous defence, he crossed over again to Asia. 
 There he made the same alteration in the govern- 
 ment of cities, and set up his decemvirate, after 
 having sacrificed in each city a number of people, 
 and forced others to quit the r country. As for the 
 Samians,! he expelled them all, and delivered 
 their towns to the persons whom they had ban- 
 ished. And when he had taken Sestos out of the 
 hands of the Athenians, he drove out the Sestians 
 too, and divided both the city and territory among 
 his pilots and boatswains. This was the first step 
 of his which the Lacedaemonians disapproved : 
 they annulled what he had done, and restored the 
 Sestians to their country. But in other Vespects 
 the Grecians were well satisfied with Lysander’s 
 conduct. They saw with pleasure the yEginetae 
 recovering their city, of which they had long been 
 dispossessed, and the Melians and Scionaeans 
 re-established by him, while the Athenians were 
 driven out, and gave up their claims. 
 
 By this time, he was informed that Athens was 
 greatly distressed with famine ; upon which he 
 sailed to the Piraeus, and obliged the city to 
 surrender at discretion. The Lacedaemonians 
 say, that Lysander wrote an account of it to the 
 ephori in these words, “Athens is taken;" to 
 which they returned this answer, “ If it is taken, 
 that is sufficient.” But this was only an invention 
 to make the matter look more plausible. The 
 real decree of the ephori ran thus : “ The Lacedae- 
 monians have come to these resolutions : You 
 shall pull down the Piraeus and the long walls ; 
 quit all the cities you are possessed of, and keep 
 within the bounds of Attica. On these conditions 
 you shall have peace, provided you pay what is 
 reasonable, and restore the exiles. J As for the 
 number of ships you are to keep, you must comply 
 with the orders we shall give you.” 
 
 The Athenians submitted to this decree, upon 
 the advice of Theramenes, the son of Ancon. § 
 On this occasion, we are told, Cleomenes, one of 
 
 ^ Muretus shows, from a passage in Theodorus 
 Metochir.es, that we should read here Theopojnpns 
 the hisioriaft, instead of Theop 07 uptts the comic 
 wi'iter. 
 
 t These things did not happen in the order they 
 are here related. Samos was not taken till a 
 considerable time after the long walls of Athens 
 were demolished. Ze.noph. Hellen. ii. 
 
 J The Lacedaemonians knew that if the Athe- 
 nian exiles were restored, they would be friends 
 and partisans of theirs ; and if they were not 
 restored, they should have a pretext for distress- 
 ing the Athenians when they pleased. 
 
 § Or Agnon. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 310 
 
 the young orators, thus addressed him: “Dare 
 you go contrary to the sentiments of Themistocles, 
 by delivering up those walls to the Lacedae- 
 monians, which he built in defiance of them?” 
 Theramenes answered, “ Young man, I do not in 
 the least counteract the intention of Themistocles ; 
 for he built the walls for the preservation of the 
 citizens, and we for the same purpose demolish 
 them. If walls only could make a city happy and 
 secure, Sparta, which has none, would be the 
 unhappiest in the world.” 
 
 After Lysander had taken from the Athenians 
 all their ships except twelve, and their fortifi- 
 cations were delivered up to him, he entered their 
 city on the sixteenth of the month Munychion 
 (April) ; the very day they had overthrown the 
 barbarians in the naval fight at Salamis. He 
 presently set himself to change their form of 
 government : and finding that the people resented 
 his proposal, he told them, that they had violated 
 the terms of their capitulation ; for their walls 
 were still standing, after the time fixed for the 
 demolishing of them was passed ; and that, since 
 they had broken the first articles, they must 
 expect new ones from the council. Some say, he 
 really did propose, in the council of the allies, to 
 reduce the Athenians toslavei-y : and that Erian- 
 thus, a Theban officer, gave it as his opinion, 
 that the city should be levelled with the ground, 
 and the spot on which it stood turned to pas- 
 turage. 
 
 Afterwards, however, when the general officers 
 met at an entertainment, a musician of Phocis 
 happened to begin a chorus in the Electra 01 
 Euripides, the first lines of which are these — 
 
 Unhappy daughter of the great Atrides, 
 
 Thy straw-crown’d palace 1 approach. 
 
 The whole company were greatly moved at this 
 incident, and could not help reflecting, how bar- 
 barous a thing it would be to raze that noble city, 
 which had produced so many great and illustrious 
 men. Lysander, however, finding the Athenians 
 entirely in his power, col ected the musicians in 
 the city, and having joined to them the band 
 belonging to the camp, pulled down the walls, 
 and burned the ships, to the sound of their in- 
 struments ; while the confederates, crowned with 
 flowers, danced, and hailed the day ^ the first of 
 their liberty. 
 
 Immediately after this, he changed the form of 
 their government, appointing thirty archons in 
 the city, and ten in the Piraeus, and placing a 
 garrison in the citadel, the command of which he 
 gave to a Spartan, named Callibius. This Cal- 
 lioius, on some occasion or other, lifted up his 
 staff to strike Autolycus, a wrestler whom Xeno- 
 phon has mentioned in his SymJ>osiacs ; upon 
 which Autolycus seized him by the legs, and 
 threw him upon the ground. Lysander, instead 
 of re.senting this, told Callibius, by way of repri- 
 mand, he knew not they were freemen, whom he 
 had to govern. The thirty tyrants, however, in 
 complai.sunce to Callibius, soon after put Autoly- 
 cus to death. 
 
 Lysander,* when he had settled these affairs, 
 saiied to Thrace, t As for the money that re- 
 
 • Xenophon says, he went now against Samos. 
 
 t Plutarch should have mentioned in this place 
 the conquest of the isle of Thasos, and in what a 
 cruel manner Lysander, contrary to his solemn 
 
 mained in his coffers, the crowns and other pre- 
 sents, which were many and very considerable, 
 as may well be imagined, since his power was so 
 extensive, and he was in a manner master of all 
 Greece, he sent them to Lacedaemon by Gylippus, 
 who had the chief command in Sicily. Gylippus, 
 they tell us, opened the bags at the bottom, and 
 took a considerable sum out of each, and then 
 sewed them up again ; but he was not aware 
 that in every bag there was a note which gave 
 account of the sum it contained. As soon as 
 he arrived at Sparta, he hid the money he had 
 taken out, under the tiles of his house, and then 
 delivered the bags to the epkori^ with the seals 
 entire. They opened them, and counted the 
 nioney, but found that the sums differed from the 
 bills. At this they were not a little embarras.sed, 
 till a servant of Gylippus told them enigmatically, 
 a great number of owls roosted in the Ceramicus.* 
 Most of the coin then bore the impression of an 
 owl, in respect to the Athenians. 
 
 Gylippus, having sullied his former great and 
 glorious actions by so base and unworthy a deed, 
 quitted Lacedaemon. On this occasion, in par- 
 ticular, the wisest among the Spartans observed 
 the influence of money, which could corrupt not 
 only the meanest, but the most respectable 
 citizens, and therefore were very warm in their 
 reflections upon Lysander for introducing it. 
 They insisted, too, that the ephori should send 
 out all the silver and gold, as evils destructive in 
 the proportion they were alluring. 
 
 In pursuance of this, a council was called, and 
 a decree proposed by Sciraphidas, as Theopom- 
 pus writes, or, according to Ephorus, by Phlo- 
 gidas, that no coin, whether of gold or silver, 
 should be admitted into Sparta, but that they 
 should use the money that had long obtained. 
 This money was of iron, dipped in vinegar, while 
 it was red hot, to make it brittle and unmalleable, 
 so that it might not be applied to any other use. 
 Besides, it was heavy, and difficult of carriage, 
 and a great quantity of it was but of little value. 
 Perhaps all the ancient money was of this kind, 
 and con.si.sted either of pieces of iron or bra.ss, 
 which from their form were called obelisci ; 
 whence we have still a quantity of small money 
 called obolij six of which make a drachma or 
 handful^ that being as much as the hand can 
 contain. 
 
 The motion for sending out the money was 
 opposed by Lysander s party, and they procured 
 a decree, that it should be considered as the 
 public treasure, and that it should be a capital 
 crime to convert any of it to private uses, as if 
 Lycurgus had been afraid of the money, and not 
 of the avarice it produces. And avarice was not 
 so much prevented by forbidding the use of 
 money in the occasions of private persons, as it 
 was encouraged by allowing it in the public ; for 
 that added dignity to its use, and excited strong 
 desires for its acquisition. Indeed, it was not to 
 
 promise, massacred such of the inhabitants as 
 had been in the interest of Athens. This is related 
 by Polyaenus. But as Plutarch tells us after- 
 wards that he behaved in this manner to the 
 Milesians, perhaps the story is the same, and 
 there may be a mistake only in the names. 
 
 * Ceramicus was the name of a place in 
 Athens. It likewise signifies the tiling of a 
 house. 
 
LYSANDEJ^. 31 1 
 
 be imagined, that while it was valued in public, 
 it would be despised in private, or that what they 
 found so advantageous to the state should be 
 looked upon of no concern to themselves. On 
 the contrary, it is plain, that customs depending 
 upon national institutions much sooner affect the 
 lives and manners of individuals, than the errors 
 and vices of individuals corrupt a whole nation. 
 For, when the whole is distempered, the parts 
 niust be affected too ; but when the disorder .sub- 
 sists only in some particular parts, it may be cor- 
 rected and remedied by those that have not yet 
 received the infection. So that these magistrates, 
 while they set guards, I mean law and fear of 
 punishment, at the doors of the citizens, to hinder 
 i the entrance of money, did not keep their minds 
 untainted w.th the love of it ; they rather inspired 
 that love, by exhibiting wealth as a great and 
 admirable thing. But we have censured this 
 conduct of theirs in another place. 
 
 Lysander, out of the spoils he had taken, 
 erected at Delphi his own statue, and those of 
 his officers, in brass ; he also dedicated in gold 
 the stars of Castor and Pollux, which disap- 
 peared * before the battle of Leuctra. The galley 
 made of gold and ivory,! which Cyrus sent in 
 congratulation of his victory, and which was two 
 cubits long, was placed in the treasury of Bra- 
 sidas and the Acanthians. Alexandrides of Del- 
 phi writes, J that Lysander deposited there a 
 talent of silver, fi tty-two mittce, and eleven 
 staters : but this is not agreeable to the accounts 
 of his poverty we have from all historians. 
 
 Though Ly.sander had now attained to greater 
 power than any Grecian before him, yet the pride 
 and loftiness of his heart exceeded it. For he 
 was the first of the Grecians, according to Duris, 
 to whom altars were erected by several cities, and 
 sacrifices offered, as to a god. § To Lysander 
 two hymns were first sung, one of which began 
 thus ; 
 
 1 0 the famed leader of the Grecian bands, 
 
 From Sparta s ample plains ! sing lo paean ! 
 
 Nay, the Samians decreed that the feast which 
 they had used to celebrate in honour of Juno 
 should be caHed the feast of Ly.sander. He 
 always kept the Spartan poet Choerilus in his 
 retinue, 11 that he might be readv to add lustre to 
 
 * They were stolen. Plutarc mentions it as 
 an omen of the dreadful loss the Spartans were to 
 suffer in that battle. 
 
 t So Aristobulus, the Jewish prh.ce, presented 
 Pompey with a golden vineyard or garden, valued 
 at 500 talents. That vineyard was consecrated 
 in the temple of Jupiter Olympius, as this galley 
 was at Delphi. ^ 
 
 J This Alexandrides, or rather Anaxandrides 
 wrote an account of the offerings stolen from the 
 temple at Delphi. 
 
 § VVhat incense the meanness of human nature 
 can offer to one of their own species ! nay. to one 
 who, having no regard to honour or virtue’ scarce 
 deserved the name of a man ! The Samians wor- 
 Shipped him, as the Indians do the devil, that he 
 might do them no more hurt ; that after one 
 more ^crifice to his cruelty, he might seek no 
 
 ‘his name, but their 
 ‘ Jhe first, who was of Samos, 
 
 un^, the victory of the Athenians over Xerxes. 
 
 his actions by the power of verse. And when 
 Antilochus had written some stanzas in his praise 
 he was so delighted that he gave h^m his, hat full 
 of silver. Antimachus of Colophon, and Nice- 
 ratus of .fEeraclea, composed each a panegyric 
 that bore his name, and conte.sted in form for the 
 prize. He adjudged the crown to Niceratus, at 
 which Antimachus * was so much offended, that 
 he suppressed his poem. Plato, who was then 
 very young, and a great admirer of Antimachus’s 
 poetry, addressed him while under this chagrin, 
 and told him, by way of consolation, that the 
 ignorant are sufferers by their ignorance, as the 
 blind ^e by their want of sight. Anstonous, 
 the lyrist, who had six times won the prize at the 
 Pythian games, to pay his court to Bysander, 
 promised him, that if he was once more vic- 
 torious, he would declare himself Lysander' s 
 retainer, or even his slave. 
 
 Lysander s ambition was a burden only to the 
 great, and to persons of equal rank with himself. 
 But that arrogance and violence which grew into 
 his temper along with his ambition, from the flat- 
 teries with which he was besieged, had a more 
 extensive influence. He set no moderate bounds 
 either to his favour or resentment. Governments, 
 unlimited and unexamined, were the rewards of 
 any friendship or ho.spitality he had experienced, 
 and the sole punishment that could appea.se his 
 anger was the death of his enemy ; nor v/as there 
 any way to escape. 
 
 There was an instance, of this at Miletus. He 
 was airaid that the leaders of the plebeian party 
 there would secure themselves by flight ; there- 
 lore, to draw them from their retreats, he took an 
 oath, not to do any of them the lea.st injury. 
 Phey trusted him, and made their appearance y 
 but he immediately delivered them to the opoo- 
 site party, and they \vere put to death, to the 
 number of 800. Infinite were the cruelties he 
 exercised in every cit}% against those who were 
 suspected of any inclination to popular govern- 
 ment. For he not only consulted his own pas- 
 sions, and gratified his own revenge, but co- 
 operated, in this respect, with the resentments 
 and avarice of all his. friends. Hence it was, 
 that the saying of Eteocles the Lacedmmonian 
 was reckoned a good one, that Greece could not 
 bear two Lysanders. Theophrastus, indeed, tells 
 us, that Archistratus t had said the same thing of 
 Alcibiades. But insolence, luxury, and vanity, 
 were the most disagreeable part of his character ; 
 whereas Lysanders power was attended with a 
 cruelty and savageness of manners, that ren- 
 dered it insupportable. 
 
 There were many complaints against him, 
 which the Lacedaemonians paid no regard to! 
 However, when Pharnabazus sent ambassadors to 
 Sparta, to represent the injury he had received 
 from the depredations committed m his province 
 the epkori were incensed, and put Thorax, one of 
 
 He flourished about the seventy-fifth olympiad. 
 The second was this Choerilus of .'^parta, who 
 flourished about seventy years after the first. 
 The third was he who attended Alexander the 
 Great, above seventy years after the time of 
 Lysanders Choerilus. 
 
 * According to others, he was of Claros. He 
 was reckoned next to Homer in heroic poetry. 
 But some thought him too pompous and verbose, 
 t It should be read Archestratus. 
 
312 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 his friends and colleagues, to death, having found 
 silver in his possession contrary to the late law. 
 They likewise; ordered Lysander home by their 
 scytale, the nature and use of which was this : 
 Whenever the magistrates sent out an admiral or 
 a general, they prepared two round pieces of wood 
 with so much exactness, that they were perfectly 
 equal both in length and thickness. One of these 
 they kept themselves, the other was delivered to 
 the officer then employed. These pieces of wood 
 were called scytalce. When they had any secret 
 and important orders to convey to him, they took 
 a long narrow scroll of parchment, and rolled jt 
 about their own staff, one fold close to another, 
 and then wrote their business on it. This done, 
 they took off the scroll and sent it to the general. 
 As soon as he received it, he applied it to his 
 staff, which being just like that of the magis- 
 trates, ail the folds fell in with one another, 
 exactly as they did at the writing : and though, 
 before, the characters were so broken and dis- 
 jointed, that nothing could be made of them, 
 they now became plain and legible. The parch- 
 ment, as well as the staff, is called scytale, as the 
 thing measured bears the name ot the measure. 
 
 Lysander, who was then in the Hellespont, 
 was much alarmed at the scytale. Pharnabazus 
 being the person whose impeachment he most 
 dreaded, he hastened to an interview with him, 
 in hopes of being able to compose their differ- 
 ences. When they met he desired him to send 
 another account to the magistrate, signifying 
 that he neither had nor made any complaint. 
 He was not aware (as the proverb has it) that 
 he was playing the Cretan with a Cretan. Phar- 
 nabazus promised to comply with his request, 
 and wrote a letter in his presence agreeable to 
 his directions, but had contrived to have another 
 by him to a quite contrary effect. When the 
 letter was to be sealed, he palmed that upon him 
 which he had written privately, and which 
 exactly resembled it. Lysander, upon his arrival 
 at Lacedajmon, went, according to custom, to 
 the senate-house, and delivered Pharnabazus’s 
 letter to the magistrates ; assuring himself that 
 the heaviest charge was removed. For he knew 
 that the Lacedaemonians paid a particular atten- 
 tion to Pharnabazus, because, of all the king’s 
 lieutenants, he had done them the greatest 
 services in the war. When the ephori had read 
 the letter, they showed it to Lysander. He now 
 found to his cost that others have art besides 
 Ulysses, and in great confusion left the senate- 
 house. 
 
 A few days after, he applied to the magistrates, 
 and told them, he was obliged to go to the temple 
 of Jupiter Ammon, and offer the sacrifices he had 
 vowed before his battles. Some say, that when 
 he was besieging the city of the Aphytseans in 
 Thrace, Ammon actually appeared to him in a 
 dream, and ordered him to raise the siege : that 
 he complied with that or er, and bade the 
 Aphytseans sacrifice to Ammon ; and for the same 
 reason now hastened to pay his devotions to that 
 deity in Libya. But it was generally believed 
 that he only used the deity as a pretext, and that 
 the true reason of his retiring was his fear of the 
 ephori, and his aversion to subjection. He chose 
 rather lo wander in foreign countries than to be 
 controlled at home. His haughty spirit was like 
 that of a horse, which has long ranged the 
 pastures at liberty, and returns with reluctance to 
 
 the stall, and to his former burden. As for the 
 reason which Ephorus assigns for this voyage, 
 I shall mention it by and by. 
 
 With much difficulty he got leave of the ephori 
 to depart, and took his voyage. While he was 
 upon It, the kings considered that it was by 
 means of the associations he had formed, that he 
 held the cities in subjection, and was in effect 
 master of all Greece. They resolved, therefore, 
 to drive out his friends, and re-establish the 
 popular governments. This occasioned new com- 
 motions. First, of all, the Athenians from the 
 castle of Phyle,*^ attacked the thirty tyrants, and 
 defeated them. Immediately upon this, Lysander 
 returned, and persuaded the Lacedaemonians to 
 support the oligarchies, and to chastise the 
 people ; in consequence of which, they remitted 
 a hundred talents to the tyrants, to enable them 
 to carry on the war, and appointed Lysander 
 himselt their general. But the envy with which 
 the kings were actuated, and their fear that he 
 would take Athens a second time, led them to 
 determine, that- one of them should attend the 
 expedition. Accordingly Pausanias marched into 
 Attica, in appearance to .suppo t the thirty tyrants 
 against the people, but in reality to put an end to 
 the war, lest Lysander, by his interest in Athens, 
 should become master of it again. This he easily 
 effected. By reconciling the Athenians among 
 themselves, and composing the tumults, he clipped 
 the wings of Lysander’s ambition. Yet, as the 
 Athenians revolted soon after, Pausanias was 
 blamed for taking the curb of the oligarchy out 
 of the mouth of the people, and letting them 
 grow bold and insolent again. On the contrary, 
 it added to the reputation of Lysander : he was 
 now considered as a man who took not his 
 measures either through favour or ostentation, 
 but in all his operations, how severe soever, kept 
 a strict and steady eye upon the interests of 
 Sparta. 
 
 Lysander, indeed, had a ferocity in his expres- 
 sions as well as actions which confounded his 
 adversaries. When the Argives had a dispute 
 with him about their boundaries, and thought 
 their plea better than that of the Lacedaemonians, 
 he showed them his swo.d, and said, “ He that is 
 master of this can best pLad about boundaries.” 
 
 When a citizen of Megara treated him with 
 great freedom in a certain conversation, he said, 
 “My friend, those words of thine should not come 
 but from strong walls and bulwarks.” 
 
 When the Boeotians hesitated upon some pro- 
 positions he made them, he asked them, whether 
 he should trail or push his pikes amongst them. 
 
 The Corinthians having deserted the league, 
 he advanced up to their walls, but t.ie Lacede- 
 monians, he found, were very loth to begin the 
 assault. A hare just then happ ning to start out 
 of the trenches, he took occasion to say, “ Are not 
 you ashamed to dread those enemies, who are so 
 idle that the very hares sit in quiet under their 
 walls ? ” 
 
 When king Agis paid the last tribute to nature, 
 he left behind him a brother named Agesilaus, 
 and a reputed son named Leotychidas.^ Ly- 
 sander, who had regarded Agesilaus with an 
 extraordinary affection, persuaded him to lay 
 
 A castle above Athens, strongly situated. 
 Xenophon often mentions it in the second book of 
 his Grecian history. 
 
LYSANDER. 
 
 313 
 
 claim to the crown, as a genuine descendant of 
 Hercules ; whereas Leotychidas was suspected to 
 be the son of Alcibiades, and the fruit of a private 
 commerce which he had with Timsea, the wile of 
 Agis, during his exile in Sparta. Agis, they tell 
 us, from his computation of the time, concluded 
 that the child was not his, and therefore took no 
 notice of Leotychidas, but rather openly dis- 
 avowed him through the whole course of his life. 
 However, when he fell sick, and was carried to 
 Heraea,* he was prevailed upon by the entreaties 
 of the youth himself, and of his friends, before 
 he died, to declare before many witnesses that 
 Leotychidas was his lawful son. At the same 
 time, he desired all persons present t > testify 
 these his last words to the Lacedemonians, and 
 then immediately expired. 
 
 Accordingly, they gave their testimony in 
 favour of Leotychidas. As for Agesilaus, he was 
 a man of uncommon merit, and sup orted besides 
 by the interest of Lysander ; but his affa rs were 
 near being ruined by Diophites, a famous inter- 
 preter of oracles, who applied this prophecy to 
 his lameness — 
 
 Beware, proud Sparta, lest a maimed empire f 
 Thy boasted strength impair ; for other woes 
 Than thou behold st await thee — borne away 
 By the strong tide of war. 
 
 Many believed this interpretation, and were 
 to Leotychidas. But Lysander observed, 
 that Diophites had mistaken the sense of the 
 oracle ; for that the deity did not g ve himself 
 any concern about their being governed by a 
 lame king, but meant that their government 
 would be lame, if spurious persons should wear 
 the crown amongst the race of Hercules. Thus, 
 partly by his address, and partly by his interest* 
 he prevaded upon them to give the preference to 
 Agesilaus, and he was declared king. 
 
 Lysander immediately pressed him to carry the 
 war into Asia, encouraging him with the hope of 
 destroying the Persian monarchy, and becoming 
 himself the ^greatest of mankind. He likewise 
 sent instructions to his friends in Asia, to petition 
 the Lacedemonians to give Agesilaus the conduct 
 of the war against the barbarians. They com- 
 plied with his order, and sent ambassadors to 
 Lacedemon for that purpose. Indeed, this com- 
 mand, which Lysander procured Agesilaus, seems 
 have been an honour equal to the crown itself. 
 But ambitious spirits, though in other respects 
 not unfit for affairs of state, are hindered from 
 many great actions by the envy they bear their 
 fellow-candidates for fame. For thus they make 
 those their adversaries, who would otherwise 
 have been their assistants in the course of glory. 
 
 Agesilaus took Lysander with him, made him 
 one of his thirty counsellors, and gave him the 
 
 ' Xenophon (1. ii.) tells us that Agis fell sick at 
 Heraea, a city of Arcadia, on his way from 
 Helphi, and that he was carried to Sparta, and 
 died there. ^ 
 
 t The oracle considered the two kings of 
 bparta as its two legs, the supports of its free- 
 dom ; which in fact they were, by being a check 
 upon each other. The Lacedaemonians were 
 tnerefore admonished to beware of a lame 
 government, of having their republic converted 
 
 ruin proved their 
 
 rum txt last. Vide Justin. 1. vi. 
 
 first rank in his friendship. But when they came 
 into Asia, Agesilaus found, that the people, being 
 unacquainted with him, seldom applied to him, 
 and were very short in their addresses ; whereas 
 Lysander, whom they had long known, had them 
 always at his gates or in his train, some attending 
 out of friendsh p, and others out of fear. Just as 
 it happens in tragedies, that a principal actor 
 represents a messenger or a servant, and is ad- 
 mired in that character, while he who bears the 
 diadem and sceptre is hardly listened to when he 
 speaks ; so in this case the counsellor engrossed 
 all the honour, and the king had the title of com- 
 mander without the power. 
 
 Doubtless this unseasonable ambition of Ly- 
 sander deserved correction, and he was to be 
 made to know that the second place only belonged 
 to him. But entirely to cast off a friend and 
 benefactor, and, from a jealousy of honour, to 
 expose him to scorn, was a step unworthy the 
 character of Agesilaus. He began with taking 
 business out of his hands, and making it a point 
 not to employ him on any occasion where he 
 might distinguish himself. In the next place, 
 those for whom Lysander interested himself were 
 sure to miscarry, and to meet with less indulgence 
 than others of the meanest station. Thus the 
 king gradually undermined his power. 
 
 When Lysander found that he failed in all his 
 applications, and that his kindness was only a 
 hindrance to his friends, he desired them to for- 
 bear their addresses to him, and to wait only 
 upon the king, or the present dispensers of his 
 favours. In consequence of this, they gave him 
 no farther trouble about business, but still con- 
 tinued their attentions, and joined him in the 
 public walks and other places of resort. This 
 gave Agesilaus more pain than ever ; and his 
 envy and jealousy continually increased ; inso- 
 much that while he gave commands and govern- 
 ments to common soldiers, he appointed Lysander 
 his carver. Then, to insult the lonians, he bade 
 them go and make their court to his carver. 
 
 Hereupon Lysander determined to come to an 
 explanation with him, and their discourse was 
 very laconic : “ Truly, Agesilaus, you know very 
 
 well how to tread upon your friends.” “Yes,” 
 said he, “when they want to be greater than 
 myself. It is but fit that those who are willing 
 to advance my power should share it.” “ Per- 
 haps,” said Ly.sander, “this is rather what you 
 say, than >yhat I did. I beg of you, however, 
 for the sake of strangers who have their eyes 
 upon us, that you will put me in some post, 
 where I may be least obnoxious, and most useful 
 to you.” 
 
 Agreeably to this request, the lieutenancy of 
 the Hellespont was granted him ; and though he 
 still retained his resentment against Agesilaus, 
 he did not neglect his duty. He found Spithri- 
 dates,* a Persian remarkable for his valour, and 
 with an army at his command, at variance with 
 Pharnabazus,^ and persuaded him to revolt to 
 Agesilaus. This was the only service he was 
 employed upon ; and when this commission was 
 expired, he returned to Sparta, in great disgrace, 
 highly incensed against Agesilaus, and more dis- 
 
 * So Xenophon calls him, not Mithridates, the 
 common reading in Plutarch. Indeed, some 
 manuscripts have it Spithridates in the life of 
 Agesilaus. 
 
3H 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 pleased than ever with the whole frame of govern 
 ment. He resolved, therefore, now, without any 
 farther loss of time, to bring about the change 
 he had long meditated in the constitution. 
 
 When the Heraclidae mixed with the Dorians, 
 and settled in Peloponnesus, there was a large 
 and flourishing tribe of them at Sparta. The 
 whole, however, were not entitled to the regal 
 succession, but only two families, the Eurytionidse 
 and the Agida; ; while the rest had no share in 
 the administration on account of their high birth. 
 For as to the common rewards of virtue, they 
 were open to all men of distinguished merit. 
 Lysander, who was of this lineage, no sooner 
 saw himself e.xalted by his great actions, and 
 supported with friends and power, but he became 
 uneasy to think that a city which owed its grandeur 
 to him, should be ruled by others no better de- 
 scended than himself. Hence he entertained a 
 design to alter the settlement which confined the 
 succession to two families only, and to lay it open 
 to all the Heraclidae. Some say, his intention 
 was to extend this high honour not only to all the 
 Heraclidae, but to all the citizens of Sparta ; that 
 it might not so much belong to the posterity of 
 Hercules, as to those who resembled Hercules in 
 that virtue which numbered him with the gods. 
 He hoped, too, that when the crown was settled 
 in this manner, no Spartan would have better 
 pretensions than himself. 
 
 At first he prepared to draw the citizens into 
 his scheme, and committed to memory an oration 
 written by Cleon of Halicarnassus for that pur- 
 pose. But he soon saw that so great and difficult 
 a reformation required bolder and more extra- 
 ordinary methods to bring it to bear. And as in 
 tragedy machinery is made use of, where more 
 natural means will not do, so he resolved to strike 
 the people with oracles and prophecies ; well 
 knowing that the eloquence of Cleon would avail 
 but little, unless he first subdued their minds with 
 divine sanctions and the terrors of superstition. 
 Ephorus tells us, he first attempted to corrupt 
 the priestess of Delphi, and afterwards those of 
 Dodona by means of one Pherecles ; and having 
 no success in either application, he went himself 
 to the oracle of Ammon, and offered the priests 
 large sums of gold. They too rejected his offers 
 with indignation, and sent deputies to Sparta to 
 accuse him of that crime. When these Libyans 
 found fe was acquitted, they took their leave of 
 the Spartans in this manner: “We will pass 
 better judgments, when you come to live among 
 us in Libya.” It seems there was an ancient 
 prophecy, that the Lacedaemonians would some 
 time or other settle in Africa. This whole scheme 
 of Lysander s was of no ordinary texture, nor 
 took its rise from accidental circumstances, but 
 was laid deep, and conducted with uncommon 
 art and address : so that it may be compared to 
 a mathematical demonstration, in which, from 
 some principles first assumed, the conclusion is 
 deduced through a variety of abstruse and intricate 
 steps. We shall, therefore, explain it at large, 
 taking Ephorus, who was both an historian and 
 philosopher, for our guide. 
 
 There was a woman in Pontus who gave it out 
 that she was pregnant by Apollo. Many rejected 
 her assertion, and many believed it. So that 
 when she was delivered of a son, several per.sons 
 of the greatest eminence took particular care of 
 his education, and for some reason or other gave 
 
 him the name of Silenus. Lysander took this 
 miraculous birth for a foundation, and raised all 
 his building upon it. He made choice of such 
 assistants, as might bring the story into reputation, 
 and put it beyond suspicion. Then he got another 
 story propagated at Delphi and spread at Sparta, 
 that certain ancient oracles were kept in the 
 private registers of the priests, which it was not 
 lawful to touch or to look upon, till in some future 
 age a person should ari.se, who could clearly prove 
 himself the son of Apollo, and he was to interpret 
 and publish those oracles. The way thus pre- 
 pared, Silenus was to make his appearance, as 
 the son of Apollo, and demand the oracles. The 
 priests, who were in combination, were to inquire 
 into every article, and examine him strictly as to 
 his birth. At last they were to pretend to be 
 convinced of his divine parentage, and to show 
 him the books. Silenus then was to read in 
 public all those prophecies, particularly that for 
 which the whole design was set on foot ; namely, 
 that it would be more for the honour and interest 
 of Sparta to set aside the present race of kings, 
 and choose others out of the best and most worthy 
 men in the commonwealth. But when Silenus 
 was grown up, and came to undertake his part, 
 Lysander had the mortification to see his piece 
 miscarry by the cowardice of one of the actors, 
 whose heart failed him just as the thing was 
 going to be put in execution. However, nothing 
 of this was discovered while Lysander lived. 
 
 He died before Agesilaus returned from Asia, 
 after he had engaged his country, or rather 
 involved all Greece, in the Boeotian war. It is 
 indeed related variously, some laying the blame 
 upon him, some upon the Thebans, and others 
 upon both. Those who charge the Thebans 
 with it, say they overturned the altar, and pro- 
 faned the sacrifice* Agesilaus was offering at 
 Aulus ; and that Androclides and Amphitheus, 
 being corrupted with Persian money,! attacked 
 the Phocians, and laid waste their country, in 
 order to draw upon the Lacedsemonians the 
 Grecian war. On the other hand, they who 
 make L^^sander the author of the war inform us 
 
 * Beside this affair of the sacrifice, the Lace- 
 daemonians were offended at the Thebans, for 
 their claiming the tenths of the treasure taken 
 at Decelea ; as well as for refusing to attend 
 them in their expedition against the Piraeus, and 
 dissuading the Corinthians from joining in that 
 enterprise. Indeed, the Thebans began to be 
 jealous of the growing power of the Lacedae- 
 monians, and did not want to see the Athenians, 
 whose weight had been considerable in the 
 balance of power, entirely ruined. Xenoph. Gr. 
 Hist. 1. iii. 
 
 t These were not the only persons who had 
 taken the Persian money. Tithraustes, alarmed 
 at the progress Agesilaus was making in Asia, 
 sent Timocrates the Rhodian with fifty talents to 
 be distributed among the leading men in the 
 states of Greece. Those of Corinth and Argos 
 had their share as well as the Thebans. In con- 
 sequence of this the Thebans persuaded the 
 Locrians to pillage a tract of land that was in 
 dispute between the Phocians and the Thebans. 
 The Phocians made reprisals. The Thebans 
 supported the Locrians ; whereupon the Pho- 
 cians applied to the Spartans, and the war 
 became general. 
 
LYSANDER. 
 
 he was highly displeased that the Thebans only, 
 of all the confederates, should claim the tenth 
 of Athenian spoils taken at Decelea, and com- 
 plain of his sending the money to Sparta. But 
 what he most resented was, their putting the 
 Athenians in a way of delivering themselves 
 from the thirtj' tyrants whom he had set up. 
 The Lacedamonians, to strengthen the hands of 
 those tyrants, and make them more formidable, 
 had decreed that if any Athenian fled out of the 
 city, he should be apprehended, wherever he 
 was found, and obliged to return ; and that who- 
 ever opposed the taking such fugitives should be 
 treated as enemies to Sparta. The Thebans on 
 that occasion gave out orders, that deserve to 
 be enrolled with the actions of Hercules and 
 Bacchus. They caused proclamation to be made 
 that every house and city should be open to 
 such Athenians as desired protection ; that who- 
 ever refu.sed assistance to a fugitive that was 
 seized should be fined a talent ; and that if any 
 one should carry arms through Boeotia against 
 the Athenian tyrants, he should not meet with 
 the least molestation. Nor were their actions 
 unsuitable to these decrees so humane, and so 
 worthy of Grecians. When Thrasybulus and 
 his company seized the castle of Phyle, and laid 
 the plan of their other operations, it was from 
 Thebes they set out ; and the Thebans not only 
 supplied them with arms and money, but gave 
 them a kind reception and every encouragement. 
 These were the grounds of Lysander’s resent- 
 ment against them. 
 
 He was naturally prone to anger, and the 
 melancholy that grew upon him with years made 
 him still more so. He therefore importuned the 
 ephori to send him against the Thebans. Ac- 
 cordingly he was employed, and marched out at 
 the head of one army, and Pausanias was soon 
 sent after him with another. Pausanias took a 
 circuit by Mount Cithie'on, to enter Boeotia, and 
 Lysandcr went through Phocis with a very con- 
 siderable force to meet him. ’ The city of Orcho- 
 menus was surrendered to him, as he was upon 
 his inarch, and he took Lebadia by storm-, and 
 plundered it. From thence he sent letters to 
 Pausanias, to desire him to remove from Plataea, 
 and join him at Haliartus ; for he intended to be 
 there himse.f by break of day. But the mes- 
 senger was taken by a Theban reconnoitring 
 party, and the letters vyere carried to Thebes. 
 Hereupon, the Thebans intrusted their city with 
 a body of Athenian auxiliaries, and marched out 
 themselves about midnight for Haliartus. They 
 reached the town a httle before Lysander, and 
 entered it with part of their forces. Lysander 
 at fir.st thought proper to encamp upon an 
 eminence, and wait for Pausanias. But when 
 the day began to decline he grew impatient, and 
 ordered the Lacedsemonians and confederates to 
 arms. Ihen he led out his troops in a direct 
 line along the high road up to the walls. l*he 
 Thebans who remained without, taking the city 
 on the left, fell upon his rear, at the fountain 
 called Cissusa. * 
 
 It is fabled that the nurses of Bacchus washed 
 mm m this fountain immediately after h s birth. 
 Ihe water is, indeed, of a bright and shining 
 
 colour like wine, and a most agreeable taste. 
 Not far oflf grow the Cretan canes* of which 
 javehns are made; by which the Haliartians 
 would prove that Rhadamanthus dwelt there. 
 Besides, they show his tomb, which they call 
 Alea. The monument of Alcmena too is near 
 that place ; and nothing, they say, can be more 
 probable than that she was buried there, because 
 she married Rhadamanthus after Amphitryon’s 
 death. 
 
 The other Thebans, who had entered the city, 
 drew up with the Haliartians, and stood still for 
 some time. But when they saw Ly.sander with 
 his vanguard approaching the walls, they rushed 
 out at the gates, and killed him, with a diviner 
 by his side, and some few more ; for the greatest 
 part retired as fast as possible to the main body. 
 The Thebans pursued their advantage, and 
 pressed upon them with so much ardour that 
 they were soon put to the rout, and fled to the 
 hills. T.heir loss amounted to looo, and that of 
 the Thebans to 300. The latter lost their lives 
 by chasing the enemy into craggy and dangerous 
 ascents. 1 hese 300 had been accused of favour- 
 ing the Lacedaemonians ; and being determined 
 to wipe off that stain, they pursued them vviJi a 
 rashness which proved fatal to themselves. 
 
 Pausanias received the news of this misfortune 
 as he was upon his march from Platsa to 
 Thespiae, and he continued his route in good 
 order to Haliartus. Thrasybulus likewise 
 brought up his Athenians thither from Thebes. 
 Pausanias wanted a truce, that he might article 
 for the dead ; but the older Spartans could not 
 think of it without indignation. They went to 
 him and declared that they would never rec.'ver 
 the body of Lysander by truce, but by arms ; 
 that, if they conquered, they should bring it off, 
 and bury it with honour ; and if they were 
 worsted, they should fall gloriously upon the 
 same spot with their commander. Notwith- 
 standing these representations of the veterans, 
 Pausanias saw it would be very difficult to beat 
 the I hebans, now flushed with victory ; and that 
 even if he should have the advantage, he could 
 hardly without a truce carry orf the body which 
 lay so near the walls. He therefore sent a 
 herald who settled the conditions, and then re- 
 tired with his army. As soon as they were got 
 out of the confines of Boeotia, they interred 
 Lysander in the territories of the Penopaians, 
 which was the first ground belonging to their 
 friends and conrederates. His monument still 
 remains by the road from Delphi to Cha;ronea. 
 While the Lacedaemonians had their quarters 
 there, it is reported that a certain Phocian, who 
 was giving an account of the action to a friend 
 of his that was not in it, sa d, “ The enemy fell 
 upon them just after Lysander had passed the 
 Hoplites." While the man stood wondering at 
 the account, a Spartan, a friend of Lysander’s, 
 asked the Phocian what he meant by Hoplites,\ 
 for he could make nothing of it. “ I mean,” said 
 
 * Strabo tells us Haliartus was destroyed by 
 the Romans in the war with Perseus. He also 
 mentions a lake near it, which produces canes or 
 reeds, not for sha.ts of javelins, but for pipes or 
 flutes. Plutarch too mentions the latter use in 
 the life of .Sylla. 
 
 _ t Hoplites, though the name of that river, 
 signifies also a heavy-ar>ned soldier. 
 
 , The name of this fountain should probably 
 
 be coirected from Pausanias and Strabo, and 
 read F ilphusa or Tilphosa. 
 
 I 
 
3 i 6 FLUTARCirs LIVES. 
 
 he, “the place where the enemy cut down our 
 first ranks. The river that runs by the town is 
 called Hoplites.” The Spartan, when he heard 
 this, burst out into tears, and cried out, “ How 
 inevitable is fate ! ” It seems Lysander had 
 received an oracle, couched in these terms — 
 
 Fly from Hoplites and the earth-born dragon 
 That stings thee in the rear. 
 
 Some say the Hoplites does not run by Haliartus, 
 but is a brook near Coronea, which mixes with 
 the river Phliarus, and runs along to that city. 
 It was formerly called Hoplias, but is now known 
 by the name of Isomantus. The Haliartian who 
 killed Lysander was named Neochorus, and he 
 bore a dragon in his shield, which it was sup- 
 posed the oracle referred to. 
 
 They tell us, too, that the city of Thebes, 
 during the Peloponnesian war, had an oracle 
 from the Ismenian Apollo, which foretold the 
 battle at Delium,* and this at Haliartus, though 
 the latter did not happen till thirty years after 
 the other. The oracle runs thus : 
 
 Beware the confines of the wolf ; nor spread 
 Thy snares for foxes on the Orchalian hills. 
 The country about Delium he calls the confines, 
 because Boeotia there borders upon Attica ; and 
 by the Orchalian hill is meant that in particular 
 called Alopecus\ on that side of Helicon which 
 looks towards Haliartus. 
 
 After the death of Lysander, the Spartans so 
 much resented the whole behaviour of Pausanias 
 with respect to that event, that they summoned 
 him to be tried for his life. He did not appear 
 to answer that charge, but fled to Tegea, and 
 took refuge in Minerva’s temple, where he spent 
 the rest of his days as her suppliant. 
 
 ' * The battle of Delium, in which the Athe- 
 nians were defeated by the Thebans, was fought 
 the first year of the eighty-ninth olympiad, 422 
 years before Christ ; and that of Haliartus full 
 twenty-nine years after. But it is common for 
 historians to make use of a round number, except 
 in cases where great precision is required, 
 t That is, fox-hill. 
 
 Lysander’s poverty, which was discovered after 
 his death, added lustre to his virtue. It was 
 then found, that notwithstanding the money 
 which had passed through his hands, the autho- 
 rity he had exercised over so many cities, and 
 indeed the great empire he had been possessed 
 of, he had not in the least improved his family 
 fortune. This account we have from Theo- 
 pompus, whom we more easily believe when he 
 commends than when he finds fault ; for he, as 
 well as many others, was more inclined to censure 
 than to praise. 
 
 Ephorus tells us, that afterwards, upon some 
 disputes between the confederates and the Spar- 
 tans, it was thought necessary to inspect the 
 writings of Lysander, and for that purpose 
 Agesilaus went to his house. Among the other 
 papers he found that political one, calculated to 
 show how proper it would be to take the right of 
 succession from the Eurytionidse and Agidse, and 
 to elect kings from among persons of the greatest 
 merit. He was going to produce it before the 
 citizens, and to show what the real principles of 
 Lysander were. But Lacratides, a man of sense, 
 and the principal of the epkori, kept him from it, 
 by representing, how wrong it would be to dig 
 Lysander out of his grave, when this oration, 
 which was written in so artful and persuasive a 
 manner, ought rather to be buried with him. 
 
 Among the other honours paid to the memory 
 of Lysander, that which I am going to mention is 
 none of the least. Some persons who had con- 
 tracted themselves to his daughters in his life- 
 time, when they found he died poor, fell off from 
 their engagement. The Spartans fined them for 
 courting the alliance while they had riches in 
 view, and breaking off when they discovered that 
 poverty which was the best proof of Lysander’s 
 probity and justice. It seems, at Sparta there 
 was a law which punished, not only those who 
 continued in a state of celibacy, or married too 
 late, but those that married ill ; and it was 
 levelled chiefly at persons who married into rich, 
 rather than good families. Such are the par- 
 ticulars of Lysander’s life which history has 
 supplied us with. 
 
 SYLLA. 
 
 Lucius Cornelius Sylla was of a patrician 
 family. One of his ancestors, named Rufinus,t 
 is said to have been consul, but to have fallen 
 under a disgrace more than equivalent to that 
 honour. He was found to have in hi. possession 
 more than ten pounds of plate, which the law did 
 not allow, and for that was expelled the senate. 
 Hence it was, that his posterity continued in a 
 low and obscure condition ; and Sylla himself was 
 born to a very scanty fortune. Even after he was 
 
 X Publius Cornelius Rufinus was twice consul ; 
 the first time in the year of Rome 463, and the 
 second thirteen years after. He was expelled 
 the senate two years after his second consulship, 
 when Q. Fabricius Luscinus, and Caius iEmilius 
 Papus were censors. Velleius Paterculus tells us, 
 Sylla was the sixth in descent from this Rufinus ; 
 which might very well be ; for between the first 
 consulship of Rufinus and the first campaign of 
 Sylla there was a space of 188 years. 
 
 grown up, he lived in hired lodgings, for which he 
 paid but a small consideration ; and afterwards 
 he was reproached with it, when he was risen to 
 such opulence as he had no reason to expect. 
 For one day, as he was boasting of the great 
 things he had done in Africa, a person of charac- 
 ter made answer, “ How canst thou be an honest 
 man, who art master of such a fortune, though 
 thy father left thee nothing?” It seems, though 
 the Romans at that time did not retain their 
 ancient integrity and purity of manners, but were 
 degenerated into luxury and expense, yet they 
 Considered it as no less disgraceful to have de- 
 parted from family poverty, than to have spent a 
 paternal estate. And a long time after, when 
 Sylla had made himself absolute, and put numbers 
 to death, a man, who was only the second of his 
 family that was free, being condemned to be 
 thrown down the Tarpeian rock, for concealing a 
 friend of his that was in the proscription, spoke of 
 Sylla in this upbraiding manner ; “ I am his old 
 
SYLLA, 
 
 317 
 
 acquaintance ; we lived long under the same roof ; 
 I hired, the upper apartment at 2000 sesterces, and 
 he that under me at 3000.” So that the difference 
 between their fortunes was then only 1000 ses- 
 terces, which in Attica money is 250 drachmas. 
 Such is the account we have of his origin. 
 
 -^s to his figure we have the whole of it in his 
 statues, except his eyes. They were of a lively 
 blue, fierce and menacing ; ■ and the ferocity of his 
 aspect was heightened by his complexion, which 
 was a strong red, interspersed with spots of white. 
 From his complexion, they tell us, he had the 
 name of Sylla ;* and an Athenian droll drew the 
 following jest from it : 
 
 Sylla’s a mulberry strew’d o*er with meal. 
 
 Nor is it foreign to make these observations upon 
 a man, who in his youth, before he emerged from 
 obscurity, was such a lover of drollery, that he 
 spent his time with mimics and jesters, and went 
 with them every length of riot. Nay, when in the 
 height of his power, he would collect the most 
 noted players and buffoons every day, and in a 
 manner unsuitable to his age and dignity, drink 
 and join with them in licentious wit, while busi- 
 ness of consequence lay neglected. Indeed, Sylla 
 would never admit of anything serious at his 
 table ; and though at other times a man of busi- 
 ness, and rather grave and austere in his manner, 
 he would change instantaneously, whenever he 
 had company, and begin a carousal. So that to 
 buffoons and dancers he was the most affable man 
 in the world, the most easy af access, and they 
 moulded him just as they pleased. 
 
 To this dissipation may be imputed his libidi- 
 nous attachments, his disorderly and infamous 
 love of pleasure, which stuck by him even in age. 
 One of his mistresses, named Nicopolis, was a 
 courtesan, but very rich. She was so taken with 
 his company and the beauty of his person, that 
 she entertained a real passion for him, and at her 
 death appointed him her heir. His mother-in-law, 
 who loved him as her own son, likewise left him 
 her estate. With these additions to his fortune, 
 he was tolerably provided ior. 
 
 He was appointed quaestor to Marius in his first 
 consulship, and went over with him into Africa to 
 carry on the war with Jugurtha. In the military 
 department he gained great honour, and, among 
 other things, availed himself of an opportunity to 
 make a friend of Bocchus, king of Numidia. 
 Ihe ambassadors of that prince had just escaped 
 out of the hands of robbers, and were in a very 
 indifferent condition, when Sylla gave them the 
 most humane reception, loaded them with pre- 
 sents, and sent them back with a strong guard. 
 
 Bocchus, who for a long time had both hated 
 and feared his son-in-law Jugurtha, had him then 
 at his court. He had taken refuge there after his 
 defeat; and Bocchus, now meditating to betray 
 him, chose rather to let Sylla seize him than to 
 himself. Sylla communicated the 
 affair to Marius, and taking a small party with 
 him, set out upon the expedition, dangerous as it 
 was. What, indeed, could be more so, than in 
 hopes of getting another man into his power, to 
 tmst himself with a barbarian who was trea- 
 cherous to his own relations? In fact, when 
 
 * Sil or Syl is a yellow kind of earth, \vhic 
 udien biirned, becomes red. Hence S:yllace 
 in \ itmvius signifies purple. 
 
 Bocchus saw them at his disposal, and that he was 
 under a necessity to betray either the one or the 
 other, he debated long with himself which should 
 be the victim. ^ At last, he determined to abide by 
 his first resolution, and gave up Jugurtha into the 
 hands of Sylla. 
 
 This procured Marius a triumph ; but envy 
 ascribed all the glory of it to Sylla: which Marius 
 in his heart not a little resented. Especially 
 when he found that Sylla, who was naturally 
 fond of fame, and from a low and obscure con- 
 dition now came to general esteem, let his am- 
 bition carry him so far as to give orders for a 
 signet to be engraved with a representation of 
 this adventure, which he constantly used in 
 sealing his letters. The device was, Bocchus 
 delivering up Jugurtha, and Sylla receiving him. 
 
 This touched Marius to the quick. However, 
 as he thought Sylla not considerable enough to 
 be the object of envy, he continued to employ 
 him in his wars. Thus, in his second consulship, 
 he made him one of his lieutenants, and in his 
 third gave him the command of 1000 men. Sylla, 
 in these several capacities, performed many im- 
 portant services. In that of lieutenant, he took 
 Copillus, chief of the Tectosagae, prisoner ; and 
 in that of tribune, be persuaded the great and 
 populous nation of the Marsi to declare them- 
 selves friends and allies of the Romans. But 
 finding Marius uneasy at his success, and that, 
 instead of giving him new occasions to distinguish 
 himself, he rather opposed his advancement, he 
 applied to Catulus the colleague of Marius. 
 
 Catalus was a worthy man, but wanted that 
 vigour which is necessary for action. He there- 
 fore employed Sylla in the most difficult enter- 
 prises ; which opened him a fine field both of 
 honour and power. He subdued most of the 
 barbarians t^t inhabited the Alps ; and in a 
 time of scarcity undertook to procure a supply of 
 provisions ; which he performed so effectually, 
 that there was not only abundance in the camp 
 of Catalus, but the overplus served to relieve that 
 of Marius. 
 
 Sylla himself writes, that Marius was greatly 
 afflicted at this circumstance. From so small 
 and childish a cause did that enmity spring, 
 which afterwards grew up in blood, and was 
 nourished by civil wars and the rage of faction ; 
 till it ended in tyranny and the contusion of the 
 whole state. This shows how wise a man Euri- 
 pides was, and how well he understood the dis- 
 tempers of government, when he called upon 
 mankind to beware of ambition, * as the most 
 destructive of demons to those that worship her. 
 
 Sylla by this time thought the glory he had 
 acquired in war sufficient to procure him a share 
 in the administration, and therefore immediately 
 left the camp, to go and make his court to the 
 people. The office he solicited was that of the 
 cztj/ preetorship^ but he failed in the attempt. 
 The reason he assigns is this : the people, he 
 says, knowing the friendship between him and 
 Bocchus,^ expected, if he was sediE before his 
 prsetorship, that he would treat them with mag- 
 nificent huntings and combats of African wild 
 beasts, and on that account chose other praetors, 
 that he might be forced upon the aedileship. But 
 the subsequent events showed the cause alleged 
 by Sylla not to be the true one. For the year 
 
 * Phoenissae, v. 534. 
 
31 8 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 following * he got himself elected prsetor, partly 
 by his assiduities, and partly by his money. 
 While he bore that office, he happened to be 
 provoked at Csesar, and said to him angrily, “ I 
 will use my authority against you.” Caesar t 
 answered, laughing, “You do well to call yours, 
 for you bought it.” 
 
 After his praetorship he was sent into Cappa- 
 docia. His pretence for that expedition was the 
 re-establishment of Ariobarzanes ; but his real 
 design was to restrain the enterprising spirit oi 
 Mithridates, who was gaining himself dominions 
 no less respectable than his paternal ones. He 
 did not take many troops with him out of Italy, 
 but availed himself of the service of the allies, 
 whom he found well affected to the cause. With 
 these he attacked the Cappadocians, and cut in 
 pieces great numbers of them, and still more of 
 the Armenians, who came to their succour ; in 
 consequence of which Gordius was driven out, 
 and Ariobarzanes restored to his kingdom. 
 
 During his encampment on the banks of the 
 Euphrates, Orobazus came ambassador to him 
 from Arsaces, king of Parthia. There had as yet 
 been no intercourse between the two nations : 
 and it must be considered as a circumstance of 
 Syila’s good fortune, that he was the first Roman 
 to whom the Parthians applied for iriendship and 
 alliance. At the time of audience, he is said to 
 have ordered three chairs, one for Ariobarzanes, 
 one for Orobazus, and another in the middle tor 
 himself. Orobazus was afterwards put to death 
 by the king of Parthia, for submitting so far to 
 a Roman. As for Syila, some commended his 
 lofty behaviour to the barbarians ; while others 
 blamed it, as insolent and out of season. 
 
 It is reported, that a certain Chalcidian, J in 
 the train of Orobazus, looked at Syila’s face, and 
 observed very attentively the turn of his ideas 
 and the motions of his body. These he com- 
 pared with the rules of his art, and then declared 
 that he must infallibly be one day the greate.st of 
 men ; and that it was strange, he could bear to 
 be anything less at present. 
 
 At his return, Censorinus prepared to accuse 
 him of extortion, for drawing, contrary to law, 
 vast sums from a kingdom that was in alliance 
 with Rome. He did not, however, bring it to a 
 trial, but dropped the intended impeachment. 
 
 The quarrel between Sylla and Marius broke 
 out afresh on the following occasion. Bocchus, 
 to make his court to the people of Rome, and to 
 Sylla at the same time, was so officious as to 
 dedicate several images of victory in the Capitol, 
 and close by them a figure of J ugurtha in gold, 
 in the form he had delivered him up to Syila. 
 Marius, unable to digest the affront, prepared to 
 pull them down, and Syila’s friends were deter- 
 mined to hinder it. Between them both the 
 whole city was set in a flame, when the confede- 
 rate war, which had long lam smothered, broke 
 out, and for the present put a stop to the sedition. 
 
 In this great war, which was so various in its 
 fortune, and brought so many mischiefs and 
 
 * The year of Rome 657. 
 
 t This must have been Sextus Julius Csesar, 
 who was consul four years after Syila’s prsetor- 
 ship. Caius Julius Csesar was only four years 
 old when Syila was praetor. 
 
 + Of Chalcis, the metropolis of Chalcidene in 
 Syria ; if Plutarch did not rather write Chaldsean. 
 
 dangers upon the Romans, it appeared from the 
 small execution Marius did, that military skill 
 requires a strong and vigorous constitution to 
 second it. Sylla, on the other hand, performed 
 so many memorable things, that the citizens 
 looked upon him as a great general, his friends 
 as the greatest in the world, and his enemies as 
 the most fortunate. Nor did he behave, with 
 respect to that notion, like Timotheus the son of 
 Conon. The enemies of that Athenian ascribed 
 all his success to Fortune, and got a picture 
 drawn, in which he was represented asleep, and 
 Fortune by his side taking cities for him in her 
 net. Upon this he gave way to an indecent 
 passion, and complained that he was robbed of 
 the glory due to his achievements. Nay, after- 
 wards, on his return from a certain expedition, 
 he addressed the people in these terms: “My 
 fellow-citizens, you must acknowledge that in 
 this Fortune has no share.” It is said, the 
 goddess piqued herself so far on being revenged 
 on this vanity of Timotheus, that he could never 
 do anything extraordinary afterwards, but was 
 baffled in all his undertakings, and became so 
 obnoxious to the people, that they banished him. 
 
 Sylla took a different course. It not only gave 
 him pleasure to hear his success imputed to For- 
 tune. but he encouraged the opinion, thinking it 
 added an air of greatness and even divinity to 
 his actions. Whether he did this out of vanity, 
 or from a real persuasion of its truth, we cannot 
 say. However, he writes in his commentaries 
 that his instantaneous resolutions, and enter- 
 prises executed in a manner different from what 
 he had intended, always succeeded better than 
 those on which he bestowed the most time and 
 forethought. It is plain too from that saying of 
 his, that he was born rather for fortune than war, 
 that he attributed fortune t han to valo ur. 
 
 In short, he makes himself entirely theIH©at«re ' 
 _qf_F-0^tune, since he ascribes to her divine in- 
 Ifuence the good understanding that always sub- 
 s.sted between him and Meteilus, a man in the 
 same sphere of life with himself, and his father- 
 in-law. For, whereas he expected to find him a 
 man troublesome in office, he proved on the con- 
 trary a quiet and obliging colleague. Add to 
 this, that in the commentaries inscribed to Lu- 
 cullus, he advises him to depend upon nothing 
 more than that which heaven directed to him in 
 the visions of the night. He tells us further^ 
 chat when he was sent at the head of an army 
 against the confederates, the earth opened on a 
 sudden near Laverna* ; and that there issued 
 out of the chasm, which was very large, a vast 
 quantity of fire, and a flame that shot up to the 
 neavens. The soothsayers being consulted upon 
 It, made answer that a person of courage and 
 superior beauty, should take the reins of govern- 
 ment into his hands, and suppress the tumults 
 with which Rome was then agitated. Sylla says, 
 he was the man : lor his locks of gold were suffi- 
 cient proof of his beauty, and that he needed not 
 aesitate, after so many great actions, to avow 
 himself a man of courage. l^hu§_ much concern- J 
 mg his confidence in the gods. 
 
 In other respects he was not so consistent with 
 himself. Rapacious in a high degree, but still 
 more liberal ; in preferring or disgracing whom 
 
 * In the Salarian way there was a grove and 
 temple consecrated to the goddess Laverna. 
 
SYLLA, 
 
 3J9 
 
 he pleased, equally unaccountable ; submissive 
 to those who might be of service to him, and 
 severe to those who wanted services from him : 
 so that it was hard to say whether he was more 
 insolent or servile in his nature. Such was his 
 inconsistency in punishing, that he would some- 
 times put men to the most cruel tortures on the 
 slightest grounds, and sometimes overlook the 
 greatest crimes ; he would easily take some per- 
 sons into favour after the most unpardonable 
 oftenccs, while he took vengeance of others for 
 small and trilling faults by death and confiscation 
 of goods. Xpese things can he 
 
 that he was severe 
 and vindictive in his temper, but occasionally 
 checked those incUnations, where his own interest 
 was concerned. 
 
 In this very war with the confederates, his 
 soldiers despatched, with clubs and stones, a 
 lieutenant of his, named Albinas, who had been 
 honoured with the praetorship ; yet he sufi'ered 
 them, after such a crime, to escape with impunity. 
 He only took occasion from thence to boast, that 
 he should find they would exert themselves more 
 during the rest of the war, because they would 
 endeavour to atone for that offence by extra- 
 ordinary acts of valour. The censure he incurred 
 on this occasion did not affect him. His great 
 object was the destruction of Marius, and finding 
 that the confederate war was drawing towards an 
 end,* he paid his court to the army, that he 
 might be appointed general against Marius. 
 Upon his return to Rome he was elected consul 
 with Quinctius Pompeius, be ng then fifty years 
 old, and at the same time he entered into an 
 advantageous marriage with Cecilia, daughter of 
 Mete bus the high priest. This match occasioned 
 a good deal of popular censure. Sarcastical 
 songs were made upon it : and^_4££oi5^, to 
 Livy’s account, manyc_nLjhe principal citizens 
 invidiously thought 
 
 though they had not thought him unworthy of 
 the consulship. This lady was not his fir.st wife, 
 for in the earlj^ part o his life he manied Ilia, 
 by whom he had a daughter ; afterwards he 
 espoused iLlia, and after her Coslia, whom, on 
 account of her barrenness, he repudiated, with- 
 out any other marks of disgrace, and dismissed 
 with valuable presents. However, as he soon 
 after married Metella, the dismission of Coelia 
 became the object of censure. Meteila he always 
 treated with the utmost respect ; insomuch t at 
 when the people of Rome were desirous that he 
 should recall the exiles of Marius’s party, and 
 cou.d not prevail with him, they entreated 
 Metella to use her good offices for them. It was 
 thought, too, that when he took Athens, that 
 city had harder usage, because the inhabitants 
 had jested vilely on Metella from the walls. But 
 these things happened afterwards. 
 
 ^ The consulship was now but of small con- 
 sideration with him in comparison of what he had 
 in view. His heart was fi.xed on obtaining the 
 conduct of the Miihridatic war. In this respect 
 he had a rival in Marius, who was possessed with 
 an ill-timed ambition and madness for fame, 
 passions which never grow old. Though now 
 unwieldy in his person, and obliged, on account 
 of his age, to give up his share in the expedi- 
 tions near home, he wanted the direction of 
 
 * In the year of Rome 665. 
 
 foreign wars. This man, watch ihg his oppor- 
 tunity in Rome, when Sylla was gone to the 
 camp to settle some matters that remained un- 
 finished, framed that fatal sedition, which hurt 
 her more efifectually than all the wars she had 
 ever been engaged in. Heaven sent prodigies to 
 prefigure it. Fire blazed out of its own accord 
 from the ensign staves, and w'as with difficulty 
 extinguished. Three ravens brought their young 
 into the city, and devoured thAn there, and then 
 carried the remains back to their nests. Some 
 rats having gnawed the consecrated gold in a 
 certain temple, the sacristans caught one o them 
 in a trap ; where she brought forth five young 
 ones, and eat three of them. And what was 
 most considerable, one day when the sky was 
 serene and clear, there was heard in it the sound 
 of a trumpet, so loud, so shrill, and mournful, 
 that it frightened and astonished all the world, 
 i'he Tuscan sages said it portended a new race 
 of men, and a renovation of the world. For they 
 observed, that there were eight several kinds of 
 men, all dilferent in life and manners . that 
 heaven had allotted each its time, which was 
 limited by the circuit of the great year ; and that 
 when one came to a period, and another race was 
 rising, it was announced by some wonderful sign 
 either from earth or from heaven. So that it was 
 evident, at one view, to those who attended to 
 these things, and were versed in them, that a 
 new sort of men was come into the world, with 
 other manners and customs, and more or less the 
 care of the gods than those who preceded them. 
 They added, that in this revolution of ages many 
 strange alterations happened : that divination, 
 for instance, should be held in great honour in 
 some one age, and prove successful in all its pre- 
 dictions, because the Deity afforded pure and 
 perfect signs to proceed by ; whereas in another 
 it should be in small repute, being mostly extent" 
 poraneous, and calculating future events from 
 uncertain and obscure principles. Such was the 
 mythology of the most learned and respectable of 
 the Tuscan soothsayers. While the senate were 
 attending*to their interpretations in the temple of 
 iiellona, a sparrow, in sight of the whole body, 
 brought in a grasshopper in her mouth, and after 
 she had torn it in two, left one pan among them, 
 and carried the other off. The d ivine’~s declared, 
 they apprehended from this a dangerouc sedition 
 ~and dispute between the town and the country. 
 For the inhabitants of the town are noisy like the 
 gjiass hopper. and those of the country are domes- 
 tic beings like the sparrow. 
 
 Soon after this Marius got Sulpitius to join 
 him. This man was inferior to none in desperate 
 attempts. Indeed, instead of inquiring for another 
 more emphatically wicked, you must ask in what 
 instance of wickedness he exceeded himself. He 
 was a compound of cruelty, impudence, and 
 avarice, and he could commit the most horrid 
 and infamous of crimes in cold blood. He sold 
 the freedom of Rome openly to persons that had 
 been slaves, as well as to strangers, and had the 
 money told out upon a table in the fo-nim. He 
 had always about him a guard of 300 men well 
 armed, and a company of young men of the 
 equestrian order, whom he called his anti-senate. 
 Though he got a law made, that no senator should 
 contract debts to the amount of more than 2000 
 drachmas, yet it appeared at his death that he 
 owed more than 3,000,000. This wretch was let 
 
320 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 loose upon the people by Marius, and carried all 
 before him by dint of sword. Among other bad 
 edicts which he procured, one was that which 
 gave the command in the Mithridatic war to 
 Marius. Upon this the consuls ordered all the 
 courts to be shut up. But one day as they were 
 holding an assembly before the temple of Castor 
 and Pollux, he set his ruffians upon them, and 
 many were slain. The son of Pompey the con- 
 sul, who was yet but a youth, was of the numberj 
 Pompey concealed himself, and saved his life. 
 Sylla was pursued into the house of Marius, and 
 forced from thence to the foruin, to revoke the 
 order for the cessation of public business. For 
 this reason Sulpitius, when he deprived Pompey 
 of the consulship, continued Sylla in it, and only 
 transferred the conduct of the war with Mith- 
 ridates^ to Marius. In consequence of this, he 
 immediately sent some military tribunes to Nola, 
 to receive the army at the hands of Sylla, and 
 bring it to Marius. But Sylla got before them to 
 the camp, and his soldiers were no sooner ac- 
 quainted with the commission of those officers 
 than they stoned them to death. 
 
 Marius in return, dipped his hands in the 
 blood of Sylla’s friends in Rome, and ordered 
 their houses to be plundered. Nothing now was 
 to be seen but hurry and confusion, some flying 
 from the camp to the city, and some from the 
 city to the camp. The senate were no longer 
 free, but under the direction of Marius and Sul- 
 pitius. So that when they were informed that 
 Sylla was marching towards Rome, they sent two 
 praetors, Brutus and Servilius, to stop him. As 
 they delivered their orders with some haughti- 
 ness to Sylla, the soldiers prepared to kill them ; 
 but at last contented themselves with breaking 
 their fasces, tearing off their robes, and sending 
 them away with every mark of disgrace. 
 
 The very sight of them, robbed as they were of 
 the ensigns of their authority, spread sorrow and 
 consternation in Rome, and announced a sedi- 
 tion, for which there was no longer either restraint 
 or remedy. Marius prepared to repel force with 
 force. Sylla moved from Nola at the head of 
 six complete legions, and had his colleague along 
 with him. His army, he saw, was ready at the 
 first word to march to Rome, but he was un- 
 resolved in his own mind, and apprehensive of 
 the danger. However, upon his ofFeripg sacri- 
 fice, the soothsayer Posthumius had no sooner 
 ^ inspected the entrails, than he stretched out both 
 his hands to Sylla, and proposed to be kept in 
 chains till after the battle, in order for the worst 
 of punishments, if everything did not soon suc- 
 ceed entirely to the general’s wish. It is said, 
 too, that there appeared to Sylla in a dream, the 
 goddess whose worship the Romans received 
 from the Cappadocians, whether it be the Moon, 
 Minerva, or Bellona. She^ seemed to stand by 
 and put thunder 'in his hand, and having 
 implied his enemies by name one after another, 
 ^de him strike them : they fell, and were con- 
 sumed by it to ashes. Encouraged by this vision, 
 vdiich he related next morning to his colleague, 
 
 took his way towards Rome. 
 
 When he had reached Picinse,* he was met by 
 
 * There being no place between Nola and 
 Rome called Picinse, Lubinus thinks we should 
 read Pictse, which was a place of public enter- 
 tainment about twenty-five miles from the capital. 
 
 an embassy, that entreated him not to advance in 
 that hostile manner, since the senate had come to 
 a resolution to do him all the justice he could 
 desire. He promised to grant all they asked; 
 and, as if he intended to encamp there, ordered 
 his officers, as usual, to mark out the ground. 
 The ainbasradors took their leave with entire 
 confidence in his honour. But as soon as they 
 were gone, he despatched Basillus and Caius 
 Mummius, to make themselves masters of the 
 gate and the wall by the /Esquiline mount. He 
 himself followed with the utmost expedition. 
 Accordingly Basillus and his party seized the 
 gate ^ and entered the city. But the unarmed 
 multitude got upon the tops of the houses, and 
 with stones and tiles drove them back to the foot 
 of the wall. At that moment Sylla arrived, and 
 seeing the opposition his soldiers met with, called 
 out to them to set fire to the houses. He took a 
 flaming torch in his own hands, and advanced 
 before them. At the same time he ordered his 
 archers to shoot fire-arrows at the roofs. Reason 
 had no longer any power over him : passion an d 
 l iirv governed all his motions ; his enemies were 
 all hetKollglltof — and in the thirst for vengeance, 
 he made no account of his friends, nor took the 
 least compassion on his relations. Such was the 
 case, when he made his way with fire, which 
 makes no distinction between the innocent a n d 
 the guilty. 
 
 Meanwhile, Marius, who was driven back to 
 the temple of Vesta, proclaimed liberty to the 
 slaves that would repair to his standard. But the 
 enemy pressed on with so much vigour, that he 
 was forced to quit the city. 
 
 Sylla immediately assembled the senate, and 
 got Marius, and a few others, condemned to 
 death. The tribune Sulpitius, who was of the 
 number, was betrayed by one of his own slaves, 
 and brought to the block. Sylla gave the slave 
 his freedom, and then had him thrown down the 
 Tarpeian rock. As for Marius, he set a price 
 upon his head ; in which he behaved neither with 
 gratitude nor good policy, since he had not long 
 before fled into the house of Marius, and put his 
 life in his hands, and yet was dismissed in safety. 
 Had Marius, instead of letting him go, given 
 him up to Sulpitius, who thirsted for his blood, 
 he might have been absolute master of Rome. 
 But he spared his enemy ; and a few days after, 
 when there was an opportunity for his return, 
 met not with the same generous treatment. 
 
 The senate did not express the concern which 
 this gave them. But the people openly and by 
 facts showed their resentment and resolution to 
 make reprisals. ^ For they rejected his nephew 
 Nonius, who relied on his recommendation, and ' 
 his fellow candidate Servius, in an ignominious 
 manner, and appointed others to the consulship, 
 whose promotion they thought would be most 
 disagreeable to him. Sylla pretended great satis- 
 faction at the thing, and said he was quite happy 
 to see the people by his means enjoy the liberty 
 of proceeding as they thought proper. Nay, to 
 obviate their hatred, he proposed Lucius Cinna, . 
 who was of the opposite faction, for consul, but 
 first laid him under the sanction, of a solemn 
 oath, to assist him in all his affairs. Cinna went 
 up to the Capitol with a stone in his hand. There 
 
 Strabo and Antoninus (in his Itinerary) mention 
 it as such. 
 

 SYLLA. 
 
 he swore befove all the world, to preserve the 
 tnendship between them inviolable, adding this 
 imprecauon, “ If I be guilty of any breach of it 
 may I be driven from the city, as this stone is from 
 my hand ! at the same time he th.ew the stone 
 upon the ground. Yet, as soon as he had entered 
 upon his office, he began to raise new commo- 
 tions and set up an impeachment against Sylla, 
 of which Verginius, one of the tribunes, was to be 
 the inanager. But Sylla left both the manager 
 and the impeachment behind him, and set forward 
 against Mithndates. 
 
 About the time that Sylla set sail from Italy, 
 Mithndates, we are told, was visited with many 
 ill presages at Pergamus. Among the rest an 
 image of Victory, bearing a crown, which was 
 contrived to be let down by a machine, broke 
 just as It was going to put the crown upon his 
 head, and the crown itself was dashed to pieces 
 upon the floor of the theatre. The people of 
 ^erpmus were seized with astonishment, and 
 Mithndates felt no small concern, though his 
 affairs then prospered beyond his hopes. For he 
 had taken Asia from the Romans, and Bithynia 
 and Cappadocia from their re.spective kings and 
 was set down in quiet at Pergamus, disposing of 
 rich governments and kingdoms among his friends 
 at pleasure. As for his sons, the eldest governed 
 m peace the ancient kingdoms of Pontus and 
 Bosphorus, extending as far as the deserts above 
 the Maeotic lake : the other, named Ariarathes 
 was subduing Thrace and Macedonia with a great 
 army. His generals with their armies were re- 
 ducing other considerable places. The principal 
 of these was Archelaus, who commanded the seas 
 with his fleet, was conquering the Cyclades, and 
 all the other islands within the bayof Malea and 
 was master of Euboea itself. He met, indeed, 
 with some check at Chaeronea. There Brutius 
 bura, lieutenant to . Sentius who commanded in 
 Macedonia, a man distinguished by his courage 
 and capacity, opposed Archelaus, who was over- 
 flowing Boeotia like a torrent, defeated him in 
 three engagements near Chaeronea, and confined 
 him again to the sea. But, as Lucius Lucullus 
 came and ordered him to give place to Sylla to 
 whom that province, and the conduct of the war 
 mere, were decreed, he immediately quitted 
 Boeotia, and returned to Sentius, though his suc- 
 cess vvas beyond all that he could have flattered 
 himself with, and Greece was ready to declare 
 again for the Romans, on account of his valour 
 and conduct. It is true, these were the most 
 shining actions of Brutius’s life. 
 
 When Sylla was arrived, the cities sent am- 
 bassadors with an offer of opening their gates to 
 f • k alone was held by its tyrant Aristion 
 for Mithndates. He therefore attacked it with 
 the utmost vigour, invested the Piraeus, brought 
 up all sorts of engines, and left no kind of assault 
 whatever unattempted. Had he waited a while 
 he might without the least danger have taken 
 the upper town, which was already reduced by 
 tamine to the last extremity. But his haste to 
 return to Rome, where he apprehended some 
 change in affairs to his prejudice, made him run 
 j. every nsk, and spare neither men nor money, to 
 ' othif ^ conclusion. For, besides his 
 
 he had 10,000 yoke of 
 mules, which worked every day at the engines. 
 
 wliSirs^vh^h'h^^J^^i’ immense 
 
 weights which broke down his machines, or their 
 
 being burned by the enemy, he cut down the 
 Sd^^f h 'valks of the Academy 
 
 axf before his 
 
 axe. And as the war required vast sums of 
 money to support it, he scrupled not to violate 
 the holy treasures of Greece, but took from 
 Epidaurus, as well as Olympia, the most beautiful 
 and precious of their g.fts. He wrote also to the 
 Amphictyones at Delphi, that it would be best 
 for them to put the treasures of Apollo in his 
 hands ; for either he would keep them safer than 
 they could ; or if he applied them to his own use 
 would return the full value. Caphis the Pnociani 
 
 and ^bis commission, 
 
 and ordered to have everything weighed to him. 
 
 Delphi, but was loth to touch 
 deposits, and lamented to the Amphic- 
 tyones the necessity he was under with many 
 
 Ivrl m sound of the 
 
 lyre in the inmost sanctuary; and Caphis, either 
 believing it, or willing to strike Sylla with a 
 religious terror, sent him an account of it. But 
 he wrote back in a jesting way, that he was sur- 
 ‘^bat music was 
 
 mit J Vif resentment. He 
 
 AnnM ’ *^berefore, boldly take the treasures, since 
 Apollo gave him tnem with the utmost satisfac- 
 
 These treasures were carried off, without bein- 
 seen by many of the Greeks. But, of the royal 
 offering, there rema ned a silver urn, which being 
 so large and heavy, that no carriage could bear it. 
 
 At Pieces. 
 
 At sight of this they called to mind, one while 
 Flaminii^and Mamus Acilius. and another while 
 Baums y^:mihus; one of which having driven 
 Antiqchus out of Greece, and the other subdued 
 ^ Macedonia, not only kept their hands 
 ffom spoiling the Grecian temples, but expressed 
 then regard and reverence for them by addino- 
 new gifts. Those great men, indeed, were legally 
 commisi.oned, and their soldiers were persons of 
 sober minds, who had learned to obey their 
 generals without murmuring. The generals, with 
 
 w — A ac generals, with 
 
 the magnanimity of kings, exceeded not private 
 persons in their expenses, nor brought upon the 
 state any charge but what was common and 
 reasonable. In short, they thought it no less 
 disgrace to flatter their own men, than to be 
 afraid of the enemy. But the commanders of 
 these times raised themselves to high posts by 
 force not by merit; and as they wanted soldiers 
 to fight their countrymen, rather than any foreign 
 enemies, they were obliged to treat them Wxth 
 great complaisance. While they thus bought their 
 service, at the price of ministering to their vices 
 they were not aware that they were seliino’ their 
 country; and making themselves slaves *to the 
 meanest of mankind, in order to command the 
 peatest and the best. This banished Marius 
 from Rome, and aiterwards brought him back 
 against Sylla. This made Cinna dip his hands 
 in the blood of Octavius, and Fimbria the assassin 
 of Flaccus. 
 
 Sylla opened one of the first sources of this 
 c^ruption. For, to draw the troops of other 
 officers from them, he lavishly supplied the wants 
 of his own. Thus, while by one and the same 
 means he was inviting the former to desertion 
 and the latter to luxury, he had occasion for 
 infinite sums, and particularly in this siege. For 
 his passion for taking Athens was irresistibly 
 

 322 FLUTARCH^S LIVES. 
 
 — „ ... , -y- 
 
 violent : whether it was, that he wanted to fight 
 against that city’s ancient renown, of which 
 nothing but the shadow now remained ; or 
 whether he could not bear the scoffs and taunts, 
 with which Aristion, in all the wantonness of 
 ribaldry, insulted him and Metella from the 
 walls. 
 
 The composition of this tyrant’s heart was in- 
 solence and cruelty. He was the sink of all the 
 follies and vices of Mithridates. Poor Athens, 
 which had got clear of innumerable wars, 
 tyrannies, and seditions, perished at last by this 
 monster, as by a deadly disease. A bushel of 
 wheat was now sold there for looo drachmas. 
 The people eat not only the herbs and roots that 
 grew about the citadel, but sodden, leather and oil 
 bags ; while he was indulging himself in riotous 
 feasts and dancing in the daytime, or mimicking 
 and laughing at the enemy. He let the sacred lamp 
 of the goddess go out for want of oil ; and when 
 the principal priestess sent to ask him for half a 
 measure of barley, he sent her that quantity of 
 pepper. The senators and priests came to entreat 
 him to take compassion on the city, and capitulate 
 with Sylla, but he received them with a shower of 
 arrows. At last, when it was too late, he agreed 
 with much difficulty to .send two or three of the 
 companions of his riots to treat of peace. These, 
 instead of making any proposals that tended to 
 save the city, talked in a lofty manner about 
 Theseus, and Eumolpus, and the conquest of the 
 Medes ; which provoked Sylla to say, “Go, my 
 nobie souls, and take back your fine speeches 
 with you. For my part, I was not sent to Athens 
 to learn its antiquities, but to chastise its rebellious 
 people.” 
 
 In tlie mean time, Sylla’s spies heard some old 
 men, who were conversing together in the Cera- 
 micus, blame the tyrant for not securing the wall 
 near the Heptachalcos, which was the only place 
 not impregnable. They carried this news to 
 Sylla ; and he, far from disregarding it, went by 
 night to take a view of that part of the wall, and 
 found that it might be scaled. He then set im- 
 mediately about it ; and he tells us in his com- 
 mentaries that Marcus Teius* was the first man 
 who mounted the wall. Teius there met with an 
 adversary, and gave him such a violent blow on 
 the skull that he broke his sword ; notwithstand- 
 ing which he stood firm and kept his place. 
 
 Athens,! therefore, was taken, as the old men 
 had foretold. Sylla, having levelled with the 
 ground all that was between the Pirsean gate and 
 that called the Sacred, entered the town at mid- 
 night, in a manner the most dreadful that can be 
 conceived. Ail the trumpets and horns sounded, 
 and were answered by the shouts and clang of 
 the soldiers let loo.se to plunder and destroy. 
 They rushed along the streets with drawn 
 swords, and horrible was the slaughter they 
 made. The number of the killed could not be 
 computed ; but we may form some judgment of 
 it, by ih'^ quantity of ground which was over- 
 flowed with blood. For, besides those that fell 
 in other parts of the city, the blood that was 
 shed in the market-place only, covered all the 
 
 * Probably it should be Ateius. In the life of 
 Crassus one Ateius is mentioned as a tribune of 
 the people. 
 
 t Athens was taken eighty-four years before 
 the birth of Christ. 
 
 Ceramicus as far as Dipylus. ^ay, there are 
 several who assure us it ran througfk the gates, 
 and overspread the suburbs. 
 
 But though such numbers were pu^ Jo the 
 sword, there were as many who laid ^olent 
 hands upon themselves, in grief for their sinking 
 country. What reduced the best men among 
 them to this despair of finding any mercy or 
 moderate terms for Athens, was the well-known 
 cruelty of Sylla. Yet partly by the intercession 
 of Midias and Calliphon, and the exiles who 
 threw themselves at his feet, partly by the 
 entreaties of the senators who attended him in 
 that expedition, and being him.self satiated with 
 blood besides, he was at last prevailed upon to 
 stop his hand ; and, in compliment to the ancient 
 Athenians, he said he forgave the many for the 
 sake of the few, the living for the dead. 
 
 He tells us in his commentaries that he took 
 Athens on the calends of March, which falls in 
 with the new moon in the month Anthesterion ; 
 when the Athenians were performing many rites 
 in memory of the destruction of the country by 
 water ; for the deluge was believed to have 
 happened about that time of the year.* 
 
 The city thus taken, the tyrant retired into 
 the citadel, and was besieged there by Curio, to 
 whom Sylla gave that charge. He held out a 
 considerable time, but at last was forced to 
 surrender for want of water. In this the hand 
 of Heaven was very visible. For the very same 
 day and hour that Aristion was brought out, the 
 sky, which before was perfectly serene, grew 
 black with clouds, and such a quantity of rain 
 fell as quite overflowed the citadel. Soon after 
 this, Sylla made himself master of the Piraeus ; 
 the most of which he laid in ashes, and among 
 the rest, that admirable work, the arsenel, built 
 by Philo. 
 
 During these transactions, Taxiles, Mithri- 
 dates’s general, came down from Thrace and 
 Macedonia, with 100,000 foot, 10,000 horse, and 
 fourscore and ten chariots armed with scythes, 
 and .sent to desire Archelaus to meet him there. 
 Archelaus had then his station at Munychia, and 
 neither chose to quit the sea, nor yet fight the 
 Romans, but was persuaded his point was to 
 protract the war, and to cut off the enemy’s 
 convoys. Sylla saw better than he the distress 
 he might be in for provisions, and therefore 
 moved from that barren country, which was 
 scarce sufficient to maintain his troops in time 
 of peace, and led them into Boeotia. Most 
 people thought this an error in his counsels, to 
 quit the rocks of Attica, where horse could 
 hardly act, and to expose himself on the large 
 and open plains of Boeotia, when he knew the 
 chief strength of the barbarians consisted in 
 cavalry and chariots. But to avoid hunger and 
 famine, he was forced, as we have observed, to 
 hazard a battle. Besides, he was in pain for 
 Hortensius, a man of a great and enterprising 
 spirit, who was bringing him considerable rein- 
 forcement from Thessaly, and was watched by 
 the barbarians in the straits. These were the 
 reasons which induced Sylla to march into 
 Boeotia. As for Hortensius, Caphis, a country- 
 man of ours, led him another way, and dis- 
 appointed the barbarians. He conducted him 
 
 * The deluge of Ogyges happened in Attica 
 near 1700 years before. 
 
* .^2, 
 
 by Mount Parnassus to Tithora, which is now a 
 large city, but w.is then only a fort situated on 
 the brovv' of a steep precipice, where the Pho- 
 cians of old took refuge, when Xerxes invaded 
 their country. Hortensius, having pitched his 
 tents there, in the daytime kept off the enemy 
 and in the night made his way down the broken 
 rocks to Patronis, where Sylla met him with all 
 his forces. 
 
 Thus united, they took possession of a fertile 
 hill, in the middle of the plains of Elateia, well 
 sheltered with trees, and watered at the bottom. 
 It is called Philoboeotus, and is much com- 
 mended by Sylla for the fruitfulness of its soil 
 and its agreeable situation. When they were 
 encamped they appeared to the enemy no more 
 than a handful. They had* not indeed above 
 1500 horse, and not quite 15,000 foot. The 
 other generals in a manner forced Archelaus 
 upon action ; and when they came to put their 
 forces in order of battle, they filled the whole 
 plain with horses, chariots, bucklers, and targets. 
 I he clamour and hideous roar of so many na- 
 tions, ranked thick together, seemed to rend the 
 sky ; and the pomp and splendour of their ap- 
 pearance was not without its use in exciting 
 terror. For the lustre of their arms, which were 
 richly adorned^ with gold and silver, and the 
 colours of their Median and Scythian vests, 
 •intermixed with brass and polished steel, when 
 the troops were in motion, kindled the air with 
 an awful flame like that of lightning. 
 
 The Romans, in great consternation, shut 
 themselves up within their trenches. Sylla 
 could not with all his arguments remove their 
 fears ; and, as_ he did not choose to force them 
 into the field in this dispirited condition, he sat 
 still and bore, though with great reluctance, the 
 vam boasts and insults of the barbarians. This 
 was of more service to him than any other 
 measure he could have adopted. The enemy, 
 who held him in great contempt, and were not 
 before very obedient to their own generals, by 
 reason of their number, now forgot all discipline ; 
 and but few of them remained within their in- 
 tpnchments. Invited by rapine and plunder, 
 the greatest part had dispersed themselves, and 
 were got several days’ journey from the camp. 
 In these excursions, it is said, they ruined the 
 city of Panopea, sacked Lebadia, and pillaged 
 a temple where oracles were delivered, without 
 orders from any one of their generals. 
 
 Sylla, full of sorrow and indignation to have 
 these cities destroyed before his eyes, was 
 Willing to try what effect labour would have 
 upon his soldiers. He compelled them to dig 
 trenches, to draw the Cephisus from its channel, 
 and make them work at it without intermission ; 
 standing inspector himself, and severely punish- 
 ing all whom he found remiss. His view in this 
 was to tire them with labour, that they might 
 the preference to danger ; and it answered 
 the end he proposed. On the third day of their 
 drudgery, as Sylla passed by, they called out to 
 nim to lead them against the enemy. Sylla said 
 It IS not any inclination to fight, but an un- 
 ''“‘■k. that puts you upon this 
 request. If you really want to come to an 
 
 post immediately At the same time he pointed 
 to the place, where had formerly stood the 
 citadel of the Paropotamians ; but all the build- 
 
 ings were now demolished, and there was no- 
 thing left but a craggy and steep mountain, just 
 separated from Mount Edylium by the river 
 Assus which at the foot of the mountain falls 
 into the Cephisus. The river growing very rapid 
 by this confluence, makes the ridge a safe place 
 for an encampment. Sylla seeing those of the 
 enemy s troops called Chalcaspides, hastening to 
 seize that post, wanted to gam it beiore them, 
 and by availing himself of the present spirit of 
 his men, he succeeded. Archelaus, upon this 
 disappointment, turned his arms against Chm- 
 ronea ; the inhabitants, in consequence of their 
 former connections with Sylla, entreated him 
 not to desert the place ; upon which he sent 
 along with them the military tribune Gabinius 
 with one legion. The Chaeroneans, with all 
 their ardour to reach the city, did not arrive 
 sooner than Gabinius. Such was his honour, 
 when engaged in their defence, that it even 
 eclipsed the zeal of those who implored his as- 
 pstance.^ Juba tells us that it was not Gabinius 
 but Ericius,* who was despatched on this occa- 
 sion. In this critical situation, however, was the 
 city of Chaeronea. 
 
 The Romans now received from Lebadia and 
 the cave of Trophonius very agreeable accounts 
 of oracles, that promised victory. The inhabi- 
 tants of that country tell us many stories about 
 them ; but what Sylla himself writes, in the 
 tenth book of his commentaries, is this : Quintus 
 Titius, a inan of some note among the Romans 
 employed in Greece, came to him one day after 
 he had gained the battle of Chseronea, and told 
 him that Trophonius foretold another battle to 
 be fought shortly in the same place, in which he 
 should likewise prove victorious. After him 
 came a private soldier of his own, with a pro- 
 mise from heaven of the glorious success that 
 would attend his affairs in Italy. Both agreed 
 as to the manner in which these prophecies were 
 communicated: they said the deity that ap- 
 peared to them, both in beauty and majesty, 
 resembled the Olympian Jupiter. 
 
 When Sylla had passed the Assus, he en- 
 camped under Mount Edylium, over against 
 Archelaus, who had strongly intrenched himself 
 between Acontium and Edylium, near a place 
 ca led Assia. That spot of ground bears the 
 name of Archelaus to this day. Sylla passed 
 one day without attempting anything. The day 
 following he left Mursena with a legion and two 
 cohorts to harass the enemy, who were already 
 in some disorder, while he himself went and 
 sacrificed on the banks of the Cephisus. After 
 the ceremony was over he proceeded to Chse- 
 ronea to join the forces there, and to take a view 
 of Thurium, a post which the enemy had gained 
 before him. This is a draggy eminence, running 
 up gradually to a point, which we express in our 
 language by the term Orthopagus. At the foot 
 of it runs the river Morins, t and by it stands 
 the temple of Apollo Thurius. Apollo is so 
 called from Thuro, the mother of Cheron, who, 
 as history informs us, was the founder of Chse- 
 ronea. Others say that the heifer which the 
 
 * It is probable it should be read Hirtius ; for 
 so some manuscripts have it, where the same 
 person is mentioned again afterwards. 
 
 t This river is afterwards called Molus; but 
 which is the right reading is uncertain. 
 
3^4 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES, 
 
 ■\ 
 
 Pythian Apollo appointed Cadmus for his guide, 
 first presented herself there, and that the place 
 Was thence named Thurium J for the Phoenicians 
 call a heifer Thor. 
 
 As Sylla approached Chseronea, the tribune 
 who had the city in charge, led out his troops to 
 meet him, having himself a crown of laurel in 
 his hands. Just as Sylla received them, and 
 began to animate them to the intended enter- 
 prise, Homoloicus and Anaxidamus, two Chse- 
 roneans, addressed him, with a promise to cut 
 off the corps that occupied Thurium, if he would 
 give them a small party to support them in the 
 attempt- For there was a. path which the bar- 
 barians were not apprized of, leading from a 
 place called Petrochus, by the temple of the 
 Siuses, to a part of the mountain that overlooked 
 them ; from whence it was easy either to destroy 
 them with stones, or drive them down into the 
 plain. Sylla finding the character of these men 
 for courage and fidelity supported hy Gabinius, 
 ordered them to put the thing in execution. 
 Meantime he drew up his forces, and placed the 
 cavalry in the wings ; taking the right himselfi 
 and giving the left to Mursena. Gallus 
 Hortensius, his lieutenants, commanded a body 
 of reserve in the rear, and kept watch upon the 
 heights, to prevent their being surrounded. For 
 it was easy to see that the enemy were preparing 
 with their wings, which consisted of an infinite 
 number of horse, and all their light-arined foot, 
 troops that could move v/ith great agihty, ^tid 
 wind away at pleasure, to take a circuit, and 
 quite enclose the Roman army. 
 
 In the mean time the two Chmroneans, sup- 
 ported, according to Sylla s order, by a ^rty 
 commanded by Ericus, stole unobserved up Thu- 
 rium, and gained the summit. As soon as they 
 made their appearance, the barbarians were sp'uck 
 with consternation, and sought refuge in flight; 
 but in the confusion many of them perished by 
 means of each other. For, unable to find any firm 
 footing, as they moved down the steep mountain, 
 they fell upon the spears of those that were next 
 before them, or else pushed them down the preci- 
 pice. All this while the enemy were pressing 
 upon them from above, and galling them belnnd : 
 insomuch that 3000 men were killed upon Ihu- 
 rium. As to those who got down, some fell 
 into the hands of Mursena, who met them in 
 good order, and easily cut them in pieces ; others 
 who fled to the main body, under Archelaus, 
 wherever they fell in with it, filled it with terror 
 and dismay; and this was the thing -that gave 
 the officers most trouble, and principally occa- 
 sioned the defeat. Sylla, taking advantage of 
 their disorder, moved with such vigour and ex- 
 pedition to the charge, that he prevented the 
 effect of the armed chariots.^ tor the chief 
 strength of those chariots consists in the course 
 they run, and in the impetuosity consequent upon 
 it ; and if they have but a short compass, they 
 are as insignificant as arrows sent from a bow 
 not well drawn. This was the case at present 
 with respect to the barbarians. Their chariots 
 moved at first so slow, and their attacks were 
 so lifeless, that the Romans clapped their hand?^ 
 
 * Guarin, after Appian’s Mitkrid^ reads Galh 
 And so it is in several manuscripts. Daci< — 
 
 proposes to read BalbuSy which name occurs 
 afterwards. 
 
 and received them with the utmost ridicule. They 
 even called for fresh ones, as they used to do in 
 the Hippodrome at Rome. 
 
 Upon this, the infantry engaged. The bar- 
 barians, for their part, tried what the long pikes 
 would do ; and, by locking their shields together, 
 endeavoured to keep themselves in good order. 
 As for the Romans, after their spears had had 
 all the effect that could be expected from them, 
 they drew their swords, and met the cimeters of 
 the enemy with a strength which a just indig- 
 nation inspires. For Mithridates’s generals had 
 brought over 15,000 slaves upon a proclamation 
 of liberty, and placed them among the heavy- 
 armed infantry. On which occasion, a certain 
 centurion is said thus to have expressed himself : 
 
 “ Surely these are the Saturjialia ; for we never 
 saw slaves have any share of liberty at another 
 time.” However, as their ranks were so close, and 
 their file so deep, that they could not easily be 
 broken ; and as they exerted a spirit which could 
 not be expected from them, they were not repulsed 
 and put in disorder till the archers and slingers 
 of the second line discharged all their fury upon 
 them. .... 
 
 Archelaus was now extending his right wing, 
 in order to surround the Romans, and Hortensius, 
 with the cohorts under his command, pushed 
 down to take him in flank. But Archelaus, by 
 a sudden manoeuvre, turned against him with 
 2000 horse whom he had at hand, and by little 
 and little drove him towards the mountains ; so 
 that being separated from the main body, he was 
 in danger of being quite hemmed in by the enemy. 
 Sylla, informed of this, pushed up with his right 
 wing, which had not yet engaged, to the assist- 
 ance of Hortensius. On the other hand, Arche- 
 laus, conjecturing, from the dust that flew about, 
 the real state of the case, left Hortensius, and 
 hastened back to the right of the Roman army, 
 from whence Sylla had advanced, in hopes of 
 finding it without a commander. 
 
 At the same time Taxiles led on the Chalcas- 
 pides against Mursena, so that shouts were set 
 up on both sides, which were re-echoed by the 
 neighbouring mountains. Sylla now stopped to 
 consider which way he should direct his course. 
 At length, concluding to return to his own post, 
 he sent Hortensius with four cohorts to the assist- 
 ance of Mursena, and himself with the fifth made 
 up to his right wing with the utmost expedition. 
 He found that without him it kept a good coun- 
 tenance against the troops of Archelaus ; but as 
 soon as he appeared, his men made such pro- 
 digious efforts, that they routed the enemy en- 
 tirely, and pursued them to the river and Mount 
 Acontium. 
 
 Amidst this success, Sylla was not unmindful 
 of Mursena’s danger, but hastened with a rein- 
 forcement to that quarter. He found him how- 
 ever, victorious, and therefore had nothing to do 
 but join in the pursuit. Great numbers of the 
 barbarians fell in the field of battle, and still 
 greater as they were endeavouring to gain their 
 intrenchments ; so that out of so many myriads 
 only 10,000 men reached Chalcis. Sylla-Says, he 
 missed only fourteen of his men, and two of these 
 came up in the evening. For this reason he 
 inscribed his trophies to to Victory, afid 
 
 Venus, to shew that he was no less indebted to 
 gOud fortune, than to capacity and valour, for 
 the advantages he had gained. The trophy I 
 
SYLLA. 325 
 
 am speaking of was erected for the victory, won 
 on the plain, where the troops of Archelaus be- 
 gan to give way, and to fly to the river Molus. 
 The other trophy upon the top of Thurium, in 
 memory of their getting above the barbarians, 
 was inscribed in Greek characters to the valotir 
 0/ Homo loichtis and Anaxidamas. 
 
 He exhibited games on this occasion at Thebes, 
 in a theatre erected for that purpose near the 
 fountain of (£dipus.* But the judges were taken 
 ! from other cities of Greece, by reason of the 
 j implacable hatred he bore the Thebans. He 
 j deprived them of half their territories, which 
 he consecrated to the Pythian Apollo and the 
 1 Olympian Jupiter; leaving orders that out of 
 ! their revenues the money should be repaid which 
 j he had taken from their temples. 
 
 After this, he received news that Flaccus, who 
 was of the opposite faction, was elected consul, 
 
 , and that he was bringing a great army over the 
 1 Ionian, in pretence against Mithridates, but in 
 1 reality against him. He therefore marched into 
 j Thessaly to meet him. However, when he was 
 I arrived at Melitea, intelligence was brought him 
 1 from several quarters, that the countries behind 
 i hi.m were laid waste by another army of the king's, 
 superior to the former. Dorylaus was arrived at 
 Chalcis with a large fleet, v/hich brought over 
 80,000 men, of the best equipped and best dis- 
 ciplined troops of Mithridates, With these he 
 entered Bceotia, and made him.self master of the 
 country, in hopes of drawing Sylla to a battle, 
 Archelaus remonstrated against that measure. 
 
 1 but Dorylaus was so tar from regarding him, that 
 j he scrupled not to assert, that so many myriads 
 of men could not have been lost without treachery. 
 
 ' But Sylla soon turned back, and shewed Dorylaus 
 ; how prudent the advice was which he had re- 
 J jected, and what a proper sense its author had 
 i of the Roman valour. Indeed, Dorylaus himself, 
 after some slight skirmishes with Sylla at Til- 
 phosium, was the first to agree that action was 
 not the thing to be pursued any longer, but that 
 ! the war was to be spun out, and decided at last 
 by dint of money. 
 
 However, the plain of Orchomenus, where they 
 were encamped, being most advantageous for 
 those whose chi f strength consisted in cavalry, 
 
 ! gave fresh spirits to Archelaus. For of all the 
 plains of Bceotia the largest and most beautiful 
 is this, which, wit out either tree or bush, extends 
 itself rom the gates of Orchomenus to the fens 
 in which the river Melas loses itself. That river 
 rises under the walls of the city j'ust mentioned, 
 
 1 and is the only Grecian river which is naviga le 
 1 from its source. About the summer solstice t 
 overflows like the Nile, and produces plants of 
 the same nature ; only they are meagre and bear 
 but little fruit. Its course is short, great part of 
 it soon stopping in tho.se dark and muddy fens. 
 The rest falls into the river Cephisus, about the 
 place where the water is bordered with such 
 exc llent canes for flutes. 
 
 'I’he two armies being encamped opposite 
 each other, Archelaus attempted ; ot anything. 
 But Sylla began to cut trenches in several parts 
 of the field, that he might, if possible, drive the 
 enemy from the firm ground, which was so 
 
 suitable for cavalry, and force them upon the 
 morasses. The barbarians could not bear this, 
 but upon the first signal from their generals, rode 
 up at full speed, and handled the labourers so 
 rudely, that they all dispersed. The corps too, 
 design d to support them, was put to flight, 
 Sylla that moment leaped fro;n his horse, seized 
 one of the ensigns, and pushed th ough the 
 middle of the fugitives towards the enemy, crying 
 out, “ Here, Romans, is the bed of h nour I am 
 to die in. Do you, when you are asked where 
 you betrayed your general, remember to say, it 
 was at Orchomenus, ” These words stopped them 
 in their flight : besides, two cohorts came from 
 the right v/ing to his as istance, and at the head 
 of this united corps he repulsed the enemy. 
 
 Sylla then drew back a little, to give his troops 
 some refrvshment ; after which he brought them 
 to work again, intending to draw a line of circum- 
 vallation round the barbarians. Hereupon, they 
 returned in better order than before. Diogenes, 
 son-in-law to Archelaus, fell gloriously as he was 
 performing wonders on the right. Their archers 
 were charged so close by the Romans, that they 
 had not room to manage their bows, and therefore 
 took a quantity of arrows in th .ir hands, which 
 they used instead of swords, and with them 
 killed several of their adversaries. At last, how- 
 ever, they were broken and shut up in their 
 camp, where they passed the night in great 
 inisery, on account of their dead and wounded. 
 Next morning Sylla drew out his men to continue 
 the trench ; and as numbers of the barbarians 
 came out to engage him, he attacked and routed 
 them so effectual. y, that, in the terror they were 
 in, rione sood to guard the camp, and he entered 
 it with them. The fens were then filled with the 
 blood of the slain, and the lake with dead bodies ; 
 insomuch that even now many of the weapons of 
 the barbarians, bows, helmets, fragments of iron 
 breast-plates, and swords, are found buried in 
 the mud, though it is almost 200 years since the 
 battle. Such is the account we have of the 
 actions at Chaeronea and Orchomenus. 
 
 Meanwhile Cinna and Garbo behaved v/ith so 
 much rigour and injustice at R ^me to pers ns of 
 the greatest distinction, teat many, to avoid their 
 tyranny, retired 1 1 Syl a’s camp, as to a safe 
 harbour ; so that in a little time he had a kind of 
 senate abcut him. Metella, with much difficulty, 
 stole from Rome with his children, and came to 
 tell him, that his enemies had burned his house 
 and all his villas, and to entreat him to return 
 h ;me, wh re his help was so much wanted He 
 was much perplexed in his deli Iterations, neither 
 choosing to neglect his afflicted country, nor 
 knowing how to go and leave such an im ortant 
 object as the Mithridatic war in so unfinished a 
 state, when he was addressed by a merchant of j 
 Delium, called Archelaus, on the part of the 
 general of that name, who wanted to sound him 
 about an accommodation, and to treat privately 
 of the conditions ol it. 
 
 Sylla was so charmed with the thing, that he 
 hastened to a personal conference with the 
 general. Their interview was on th^ sea-coast 
 near Delium, where s ands a celebrated temple of 
 Apollo. Upon their meeting, Archelaus propiosed 
 that Sylla should quit the Asiatic and P<mtic 
 ex' edition, and turn his whole attention to the 
 civil war, engaging on the king's behalf to supply 
 him with money, vessels, and troops. Sj^lla, 
 
 Pausanias tells us this fountain was so called, 
 because <Edipus there washed off the blood he 
 was stained with in the murder of his father. 
 
326 PLUTARCH LIVES, 
 
 proposed in answer, that Archelaus should quit 
 the interest of Mithridates, be appointed king in 
 his place, assume the title of an ally to the 
 Romans, and put the king’s shipping in his 
 hands. When Archelaus expressed his detestation 
 of this treachery, Sylla thus proceeded : “Is it 
 possible, then, that you, Archelaus, a Cappa- 
 docian, the s ave, or, if you please, the friend of 
 a barbarous king, should be shocked at a proposal, 
 which, however in some respects exceptionable, 
 must be attende 1 with the most advantageous 
 consequences? Is it possible that to me, the 
 Roman general, to Sylla, you should take upon 
 3'ou to talk of treachery? As if you were not 
 that same Archelaus, who at C seronea fled with 
 a handful of men, the poor remains of 120,000, wno 
 hid himself two daj^s in the marshes of Orcho- 
 menus, and left the roads of Boeotia blocked up with 
 heaps of dead bodies." Upon this Archelaus had 
 recourse 0 entreaty, and begged at last a peace 
 for Mithridates. This was allowed upon certain 
 conditions — Mithridates was to g.ve up Asm and 
 Paphlagonia, cede Bithynia to Nicomedes, and 
 Cappadocia to Ariobarzanes. He was to allow the 
 Romans 2000 talents to defray the expense of the 
 war, besides 70 armed galleys fully equipped. 
 Sylla, on the other hand, was to secure Mithri- 
 dates in the rest of his dominions, and procure 
 him the title of friend and ally to the Romans. 
 
 These conditions being accepted and negociated, 
 Sylla returned through Thessaly and M cedonia 
 towards the Hellespont. Archelaus, who accom- 
 panied him, was treated with the greatest respect, 
 and when he happened to fall sick at Larissa, 
 Sylla ha. ted there for some time, and showed 
 him all the attention he could have paid to his 
 own general officers, or even to his colleague 
 himself.. This circumstance rendered the battle 
 of Chaeronea a little suspected, as if it had been 
 gained by unfair means ; and what added to the 
 suspicion, was the restoring of all the prisoners of 
 Mithridates, except Aristion, the avowed enemj'^ 
 of Archelaus, who was taken off by poison. But 
 what confirmed the whole, was the cession of 
 10,000 acres in Euboea to the Cappadocian, and 
 the title that was given him of friend and ally to 
 the Romans. Sylla, however, in his Commen- 
 taries, obviates all these censures. 
 
 During his s ay at Larissa, he received an 
 embassy from Mithridates, entreating nim not to 
 insist upon his giving up Paphlagonia, and repre- 
 senting that the demand of shipping was inad- 
 missible. Sylla heard these remonstrances with 
 indignation — “What," said he, “ does Mithridates 
 pretend to keep Paphlagonia, and refuse to send 
 the vessels I demanded ? Mithridates, whom I 
 should have expected to entreat me on his knees 
 that I would spare that right hand which had 
 slain so many Romans — But I am satisfied that, 
 w^hen I return to Asia, he will change his style. 
 While he resides at Pergamus, he can direct at 
 ease the war he has not seen." The ambassadors 
 were struck dumb with his indignant answer, 
 while Archelaus endeavoured to sooth and ap- 
 pease the anger of Sylla, by every mitigating 
 expression and bathing his hand with his tears. 
 At length he prevailed on the Roman general to 
 send him to Mithridates, assuring him that he 
 would obtain his consent to all the articles, or 
 perish in the attempt. 
 
 Sylla upon this assurance dismissed him, and 
 invaded Media, where he committed great de- 
 
 predations, and then returned to Macedonia. ; 
 He received Archelaus at Philippi, who informed 
 him that he had succeeded perfectly well in his 
 negociation, but that Mithridates was extremely 
 desirous of an interview. His reason for it was 
 this : Fimbria, who had slain the consul Flaccus, 
 one of the heads of the opposite faction, and 
 defeated the king’s generals, was now march- 
 ing against Mithridates himself. Mithridates, 
 alarmed at this, wanted to form a friendship with 
 Sylla. 
 
 Their interview was at Dardanus in the 
 country of Troas. Mithridates came with 200 
 galleys, an army of 20,000 foot, 6000 horse, and 
 a great number of armed chariots. Sylla had no 
 more than four cohorts and 200 horse. Mithri- 
 dates came forward and offered him his hand, 
 but Sylla first asked him whether he would 
 stand to the conditions that Archelaus had 
 settled with him? The king hesitated upon it, 
 and Sylla then said, “It is for petitioners to 
 speak first, and for conquerors to hear in silence.” 
 Mithridates then began a long harangue, in 
 which he endeavoured to apologize for himself 
 by throwing the blame partly upon the gods and 
 partly upon the Romans. At length Sylla in- 
 terrupted him. “ I have often,’’ said he, “ heard 
 that Mithridates was a good orator, but now I 
 know it by experience, since he has been able to 
 give a colour to such unjust and abominable 
 deeds." Then he set forth in bitter terms, and 
 in such a manner as could not be replied to, the 
 king's shameful conduct, and in conclusion asked 
 him again whether he would abide by the con- 
 ditions settled with Archelaus. Upon his an- 
 swering in the affirmative, Sylla took him in his 
 arms and saluted him. Then he presented to 
 him the two kings Ariobarzanes and Nicomedes, 
 and reconciled them to each other. 
 
 Mithridates, having delivered up lo him 70 
 of his ships and 500 archers, sailed back to 
 Pontus. Sylla perceived that his troops were 
 much offended at the peace : they thought it an 
 irisufferable thing that a prince, who, of all the 
 kings in the universe, was the bitterest enemy to 
 Rome ; who had caused 150,000 Romans to be 
 murdered in Asia in one day, should go off with 
 the wealth and spoils of Asia, which he had been 
 plundering and oppressing full four years. But 
 he excused himself to them by observing that 
 they should never have been able to carry on the 
 war against both Fimbria and Mithridates if they 
 had joined their forces. 
 
 From thence he marched against Fimbria, who 
 was encamped at Thyatira ; and having marked 
 out a camp very near him, he began upon the 
 intrenchment The soldiers of Fimbria came 
 out in their vests, and saluted those of Sylla, and 
 readily assisted them in their work. Fimbria 
 seeing this desertion, and withal dreading Sylla 
 as an implacable enemy, despatched himself 
 upon the spot. 
 
 Sylla laid a fine upon Asia of 20,000 talents ; 
 and beside this, the houses of private persons 
 were ruined by the insolence and disorder of the 
 soldiers he quartered upon them. For he com- 
 manded every householder to give the soldier 
 who lodged with him sixteen drachmas a day, 
 and to provide a supper for him and as many 
 friends as he chose to invite. A centurion was 
 to have fifty drachmas a day, and one dress to 
 wear within doors, and another in public. 
 
SVLLA. 
 
 327 
 
 These things settled, he set sail from Ephesus 
 with his whole fleet, and reached the harbour of 
 Pirse is the third day. _ At Athens he got himself 
 initiated in the mysteries of Ceres, and from that 
 city he took with him the library of Apellicon 
 the Teian, in which were most of the works of 
 Aristotle and Theophrastus, books at that time 
 not sufficiently known to the world. When they 
 were brought to Rome, it is said that Tyrannio 
 the grammarian prepared many of them ^ for 
 publication, and that Andronicus the Rhodian, 
 getting the manuscripts by his means, did 
 actually publish them, together with those in- 
 dexes that are now in everybody’s hands. The 
 old Peripatetics appear indeed to have been 
 men of curiosity and erudition ; but they had 
 neither met with many of Aristotle’s and Theo- 
 phrastus’s books, nor were those they did meet 
 with correct copies ; because the inheritance of 
 Neleus the Scepsian, to whom Theophrastus left 
 his works, fell into mean and obscure hands. ^ 
 
 During Sylla's stay at Athens, he felt a painful 
 numbness in his feet, which Strabo calls the 
 lisping of the gout. This obliged him to sail 
 to iEdepsus, for the benefit of the warm baths, 
 where he lounged away the day with mimics and 
 buffoons and all the train of Bacchus. One day, 
 as he was walking by the seaside, some fisher- 
 men presented him with a curious dish of fish. 
 Delighted with the present, he asked the people 
 of what country they were, and when he heard 
 they were Alasans, “What,” said he, “are any 
 of the Alaeans alive?” for in pursuance of his 
 victory at Orchomenus, he had razed three cities 
 of Boeotia, Anthedon, Larymna, and Alsea. 
 The poor men were struck dumb with fear ; but 
 he told them, with a smile, they might go away 
 quite happy, for they had brought very respect- 
 able mediators with them. The Alseans tell us 
 that from that time they took courage, and 
 re-established themselves in their old habita- 
 tions. 
 
 Sylla, now recovered, passed through Thessaly 
 and Macedonia to the sea, intending to cross 
 over from Dyrrachium to Brundusium with a 
 fleet of 1200 sail. In that neighbourhood stands 
 Apollonia, near which is a remarkable spot of 
 ground called Nymphaeum.* The lav/ns and 
 meadows are of incomparable verdure, though 
 interspersed with spring sfrom which continually 
 issues fire. In this place, we are told, a satyr 
 was taken asleep, exactly such as statuaries and 
 painters represent to us. He was brought to 
 Sylla, and interrogated in many languages who 
 he was ; but he uttered nothing intelligible ; his 
 accent being harsh and inarticulate, something 
 between the neighing of a horse and the bleating 
 of a goat. Sylla was shocked with his appear- 
 ance, and ordered him to be taken out of his 
 presence. 
 
 _When he was upon the point of embarking 
 with his troops, he began to be afraid that as 
 soon as they reached Italy, they would disperse 
 and retire to their respective cities. Hereupon 
 they came to him of their own accord, and took 
 
 * In this place the nymphs had an oracle, of 
 the manner of consulting which Dion ( 1 . 41) tells 
 us several ridiculous stories. Strabo, speaking 
 of it in his seventh book, tells us the Nymphaeum 
 is a rock, out of which issues fire, and that 
 beneath it flows streams of flaming bitumen. 
 
 an oath that they would stand by him to the : 
 last, and not wilfully do any damage to Italy. 
 And as they saw he would want large sums of l 
 money, they went and collected each as much as ! 
 they could afford, and brought it him. He did 1 
 not, however, receive their contribution, but ‘ 
 having thanked them for their attachment, and i 
 encouraged them to hope the best, he set sail. 
 He had to go, as he himself tells us, against 
 fifteen generals of the other party, who had 
 under them no less than 250 cohorts. But 
 heaven gave him evident tokens of success. He 
 sacrificed immediately upon his landing at Ta- 
 rentum, and the liver of the vict;m had the 
 plain impression * of a crown of laurel, with two 
 strings hanging down. A little before his pas- 
 sage there were seen in the daytime upon Mount 
 Hephaeum t in Campania, two great he-goats 
 engaged, which used all the movements that men 
 do in fighting. The phenomenon raised itself by 
 degrees from the earth into the air, where it dis- 
 persed itself in the manner of shadowy phantoms, 
 and quite disappeared. 
 
 A little after this, young Marius, and Nor- 
 banus the consul, with two very powerful bodies, 
 presumed to attack Sylla ; who, without any 
 regular disposition of his troops, or order of 
 battle, by the mere valour and impetuosity of 
 his soldiers, after having slain 7000 of the enemy, 
 obliged Norbanus to seek a refuge within the 
 wails of Capua. This success he mentions as 
 the cause why his soldiers did not desert, but 
 despised the enemy, though greatly superior in 
 numbers. He tells us, moreover, that an enthu- 
 siastic servant of Pontius, in the town of Silvium, 
 announced him victorious, upon the communi- 
 cated authority of Bellona, but informed him, 
 at the same time, that if he did not hasten the 
 Capitol would be burned. This actually hap- 
 pened on the day predicted, which was the sixth 
 of July. About this time it was that Marcus 
 Lucullus, one of Sylla’s officers, who had no 
 more than sixteen cohorts under his command, 
 found himself on the point of engaging an enemy 
 who had fifty ; though he had the utmost con- 
 fidence in the valour of his troops, yet, as many 
 of them were without arms, he was doubtful 
 about the onset. While he was deliberating 
 about the matter a gentle breeze bore from a 
 neighbouring field a quantity of flowers, that fell 
 on the shields and helmets of the soldiers in such 
 a manner that they appeared to be crowned with 
 garlands. This circumstance had such an effect 
 upon them X that they charged the enemy with 
 
 * The priests traced the figures they wanted 
 upon the liver, on their hands, and, by holding it 
 very close, easily made the impression upon it 
 while it was warm and pliant. 
 
 f There is no such mountain as Hephaeum 
 known. Livy mentions the hills of Tisata, near | 
 Capua. _ j 
 
 J The use that the ancient Romans as well as | 
 Greeks made of enthusiasm and superstition, in I 
 war particularly, was so great and so frequent 1 
 that it appears to take off much from the idea of j 
 their native courage and valour. The slightest ' 
 circumstance, as in the improbable instance re- 
 ferred to, of a preternatural kind, or bearing the ‘ 
 least shadow of a religious ceremony, would 
 animate them to those exploits, which, though a 
 rational valour was certainly capable of effecting 
 
1 3^S PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 double vigour and courage, killed 18,000, and 
 became complete masters of the field and of the 
 camps. This Marcus Lucullus was brother to 
 tliat Lucullus who afterwards conquered Mithri- 
 dates and Tigranes. 
 
 Sylla still saw himself surrounded with armies 
 and powerful enemies, to whom he was inferior 
 in point of force, and therefore had recourse to 
 fraud. He made Scipio. one of the consuls, some 
 proposals for an accommodation, upon which 
 many interviews and conferences ensued. But 
 Sylla, always finding some pretence for gaining 
 time, was corrupting Scipio’s soldiers all the 
 while by means of his own, who were as well 
 practised as their general in every art of solici- 
 tation. They entered their adversaries’ camp, 
 and, mixing among them, soon gained them over, 
 seme by money, some by fair promises, and 
 others by the most insinuating adulation. At 
 last, Sylla advancing to their imrenchments with 
 twenty cohorts, S.ipios men saluted them as 
 fellow-soldiers, and came out and joined them ; 
 so that Scipio was left alone, in his tent, where 
 he was taken, but immediately after dismissed in 
 safety. These twenty cohorts were Sylla’s decoy 
 birds, by which he drew lorty more into his net, 
 and then brought them altogether into his camp. 
 On this occasion Carbo is reported to have said 
 that in Sylla he had to contend both with a fox 
 and a lion, but the fo.x gave him the most 
 trouble. 
 
 The year following, young Marius being con- 
 sul, ami at the head of fourscore cohorts, gave 
 Sylla the challenge. Sylla leady -ta.. 
 
 accent it that dav in narticular. on arcniim of 
 drpnmhe had TKe night before;^ J^ethoughTne 
 MTrius. who had now lone been dead, 
 advxgmg his son toTbBwar.eLXif-the ensuing^ daV’^s 
 big Jhi^ irn^ 
 
 patient of the combat. The first step he took 
 towards it was to send for Dolabella, who had 
 encamped at some distance. The enemy had 
 blocked up the roads ; and Sylla’s troops were 
 much harassed in endeavouring to open them. 
 Besides, a violent rain happened to fall, and still 
 more incommoded them in their work. Here- 
 upon, the officers went and entreated Sylla to 
 defer the battle till another day, showing him 
 how his men were beaten cut with fatigue, and 
 seated upon the ground with their shields under 
 them. Sylla yielded to their ai'guments, though 
 with great reluctance, and gave them orders to 
 intrench themselves. 
 
 They were just begun to put these orders in 
 execution, when Marius rode boldly up in hopes 
 of finding them dispersed and in great disorder. 
 Fortune seized this moment for accomplishing 
 Sylla’s dream. His soldiers, fired with indigna- 
 tion, left their work, stuck their pikes in the 
 trench, and with drawn swords and loud shouts 
 ran to the charge. The enemy made but a slight 
 resistance ; they were routed, and vast numbers 
 slain in their llight. Marius himself fled to Pra;- 
 neste, where he lound the gates shut ; but a rope 
 was let down, to which he fastened hirnseh, and 
 so he was taken up over the wall. 
 
 Some authoi*s, indeed, write, and among the 
 rest Fenestalla, that Marius saw nothing of the 
 battle, but that, being oppressed with watching 
 
 and fatigue, he laid himself down in a shade, 
 after th signal was given, and was not waked 
 without difficulty when all was lost. Sylla says, 
 he lost only three and twenty men in this battle, 
 though he killed 10,000 of the enemy, and took 
 8000 prisoners. He was equally successful with 
 respect to his lieutenants, P. mpey, Crassus, 
 Met llus, and Servilius, who, without any mis- 
 carriage at all, or with none qf any consequence, 
 defeated greai and powerful armies ; insomuch 
 that Carbo, who was the chief support of the 
 opposite party, stole out of his camp by night, 
 and passed over into Africa. 
 
 The last conflict Sylla had, was with Telesinus 
 the Samnite, who entered the lis.s like a fresh 
 champion against one that was w’eary, and was 
 near throwing him at the very gates of Rome. 
 Telesinus had collected a great body of forces, 
 w'ith the assistance of a Lucanian named Lam- 
 ponius, and was hastening to the relief of Marius, 
 who w'as besieged in Pra;neste. But he got intel- 
 ligence that Sylla and Pompey were advancing 
 against him by long marches, the one to take him 
 in front, and the other in rear, and that he was in 
 the utmost danger of being hemmed in both 
 before and behind. In this case, like a man , of 
 great abilities and experience of the most critical 
 kind, he decamped by night, and marched with 
 his whole army directly tow ards Rome ; which 
 w'as in so unguarded a condition, that he. might 
 have entered it w ithout difficulty. But he stopped 
 w'hen he w’as only ten furlongs from the Colline 
 gate, and contented himself with passing the night 
 before the walls, greatly encouraged and elevated 
 at the thought of having outdone so many great 
 commanders in point of generalship. 
 
 Early next morning the young nobility mounted 
 their horses, and fell upon him. He defeated 
 them, and killed a considerable number ; among 
 the rest fell Appius Claudius, a young man of 
 spirit, and of one of the most illustrious families in 
 Rome. The city w'as now full of terror and con- 
 fusion — the w'omen ran about the streets, bewailing 
 themselves, as if it w.as just going to be taken by 
 assault — when Balbus, w'ho w^as sent before by 
 Sylla, appeared advancing at full speed with 700 
 horse. He stopped just long enough to give his 
 horses time to cool, and then bridled them again, 
 and proceeded to keep the enemy in play. 
 
 In the mean time Sylla made his appearance, and 
 having caused his first ranks to take a speedy 
 refreshment, he began to put them in order of 
 battle. Dolabella and Torquatus pressed him to 
 wait some time, and not lead his men in that 
 fatigued condition to an engagement that must 
 prove decisive. For he had not now to do wdth 
 Carbo and Marius, but with Samnites and Luca- 
 nians, the most inveterate enemies to the Roman 
 name. However, he overruled their motion, and 
 ordered the trumpets to sound to the charge, 
 though it was now so late as the tenth hour of the 
 day. There was no battle during the whole war 
 .ought with such obstinacy as this. The right 
 w;ng, commanded by Crassus, had greatly the 
 advantage ; but the left was much distressed, and 
 began to give way. Sylla made up to its assist- 
 ance. He rode a white horse of un.ommon spirit 
 and swiftne.ss ; and two of the enemy knowing him 
 by it, levelled their spears at him. He himself 
 perceived it not, but his groom did, and wdth a 
 sudden lash made the horse spring forward, so 
 that the spears only grazed his tail, and fixed 
 
 them, without such influence they would never 
 have undertaken, . 
 
sylljl, 329 
 
 themselves in the ground. It is said that in all 
 his battles he wore in his bosom a small golden 
 of Ajiolle, which he brought from Delphi. 
 On this occasion he kissed it with particular 
 devotion,* and addressed it in these terms. : “ O 
 Pythian Apollo, who hast conducted the lortunate 
 Cornelius Sylla through so many engagements 
 with honour ; when thou hast brought him to the 
 thres' old of his country, wilt thou let him fall 
 there inglorious by the h nds of his own citizens V 
 
 After this act of devoiion, Sylla endeavoured 
 to rally his men : some he entreated, some he 
 threatened, and others he forced back to the 
 ^ charge. But at length his whole left wing was 
 ’ routed, and he was obliged to mix with the 
 fugitives to regain his camp, after having lost 
 many of his friends of the highest distinction. A 
 good number, too, of tho e who came out of the 
 city to see the battle, were trodden un,!er f jot and 
 perished. N ;y, Rome itself was thou ht to 
 be absolutely lost ; and the siege of Prseneste, 
 where Marius had taken up his quarters, near 
 being raised. For after the defeat many of the 
 fugitives repaired thither, and desired Lucretius 
 Ofella, who had the direction of the siege, to quit 
 It immediately, because (they said) Sylla was 
 slain, and his enemies masters of Rome. 
 
 But the same evening, when it was quite dark, 
 there came persons to Sylla’s camp, on the part 
 of Crassus, to desire refreshment for him and his 
 soldiers. For he had defeated the enemy, and 
 pursued them to Antemna, where he was sat down 
 to besiege them. Along with this news Sylla was 
 informed that the greatest part of the enemy was 
 cut off in the action. As soon, therefore, as it 
 was day, he repaired to Antemna. There 3000 of 
 the other faction sent deputies to him to intercede 
 for mercy ; and he promised them impunity, on 
 condi ion that they would come to him after some 
 no able stroke against the rest of his enemies. 
 Confiding in his honour, they fell upon another 
 corps, and thus many of them were slain by the 
 hands of their f llo v soldiers. Sylla, however, 
 collected these, and what was left of the others, to 
 the number of 6000, into the Circus ; and at the 
 same time assembled the senate in the temple of 
 Bellona. 'the moment he began his harangue, 
 his sold ers, as they had been ordered, fell upon 
 those 6000 poor wretches, and cut them in pieces. 
 The cry of such a number of people massacred in 
 a place of no great extent, as may well be imagined, 
 was very dreadful. The senators were struck 
 with astonishment. But he, with a firm and 
 unaltered countenance continuing his discourse, 
 bade them attend to whai. he was saying, and not 
 trouble themselves about what was doing without ; 
 for the noise they heard came only from some 
 malefactors, whom he had ordered to be chastised. 
 
 It was evident from hence to the least discerning 
 among the Romans, that they were not delivered 
 from tyranny ; they had only changed their tyrant. 
 Marius, indeed, from the first was of a harsh and 
 sev'ere dis osition, and power did not produce, it 
 only added to his cruelty. But Sylla, at the 
 beginning, bore prosperity with great moderation ; 
 though he seemed more attached to the patricians, 
 It was thought he would protect the rights of the 
 peop.e • he had loved to laugh from his youth. 
 
 and had been so compassionate that he often 
 melted into tears. This change in him, therefore, 
 could not but cast a blemish upon power. On his 
 account it vvas believed, that high honours and 
 fortunes will not suffer men’s manners to remain 
 in their original simplicity, but that it begets 
 in them insolence, arrogance, and inhumanity. 
 Whether power does really produce such a change 
 of disposition, or whether it only displays the 
 native badness of the heart, belongs however to 
 another department of letters to inquire. 
 
 Sylla now turning himself to kill and to destroy, 
 filled the city with massacre, which had neither 
 number nor bounds. He even gave up many 
 persons against whom he had no complaint, to the 
 private revenge of his creatures. At last one of 
 the young nobility, named Caius Metellus, 
 ventured to put these questions to him in the 
 senate : “ Tell us, Sylla, when we shall have an 
 end of our calamities ? how far thou wilt proceed, 
 and when we may hope thou wilt stop ? We ask 
 thee not to spare those whom thou hast marked 
 out for punishment, but we ask an exemption from 
 anxiety for those whom thou hast determined to 
 save. Sylla said, he did not yet know whom he 
 should save. “ Then, ” replied Metellus, “ let us 
 know whom thou intendest to destroy;” and 
 Sylla answered he would do it. Some, indeed, 
 ascribe the last reply to Ausidius, one of Sylla’s 
 flatterers. 
 
 _ Immediately upon this, he proscribed eighty 
 citizens, without consulting any of the magistrates 
 in the least. And as the public expressed their 
 indignation at this, the second day after he pro- 
 scribed 220 more, and as many on the third. 
 Then he told the people from the rostrum, he had 
 now proscribed all that he remembered ; and such 
 as he had forgot must come into some future 
 proscription. Death was the punishment he 
 ordained for any one who should harbour or save 
 a person proscribed, without excepting a brother, 
 a son, or a parent ! Such was to be the reward 
 of humanity. But two talents were to be the 
 reward of murder, whether it were a slave that 
 killed hi.s master, or a son his father ! The most 
 unjust circumstance, however, of all seemed to 
 be, that he declared the sons and grandsons of 
 proscribed persons infamous, and confiscated their 
 goods ! 
 
 The lists were put up not only at Rome, but in 
 all the cities of Italy. Neither temple of the gods, 
 nor paternal dwelling, nor hearth of hospitality, 
 was any protection against murder. Husbands 
 were despatched in the bosoms of their wives, and 
 sons in those of their mothers. And the sacrifices 
 to resentment and revenge were nothing to those 
 who fell on account of their wealth. So that it was 
 a common sayi g among the ruffians, “ His fine 
 house was the death ot such a one, his gardens of 
 another, and his hot baths of a third. ’ Quintus 
 Aurelius, a quiet man, who thought he could 
 have no share, in those miseries, but that which 
 compassion gave him, came one day into the 
 forum, and out of curio.sity read the names of the 
 proscribed. Finding his own, however, a :iong 
 the rest, he cried ou:, “Wretch that I am! my 
 Alban villa pursues me;” and he had not gone 
 far before a ruffian came up and killed him. 
 
 In the mean time young Marius being taken, * 
 
 1 it appears, tl at the heathens made 
 
 the ^me use of the images of their gods, which 
 the Romanists do of images and reliques. 
 
 * He was not taken ; but as he was endeavour- 
 ing to make his escape by a subterraneous pas- 
 
330 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 slew himself. Sylla then came to Prseneste, 
 where at first he tried the inhabitants and had 
 them executed singly. But afterwards finding 
 he had not leisure for such formalities, he col- 
 lected them to the number of 12,000, and ordered 
 them to be put to death, excepting only one who 
 had formerly entertained him at his house. This 
 man with a noble spirit, told him he would never 
 owe his life to the destroyer of his country ; and 
 voluntarily mixing with the crowd, he died with 
 his fellow-citizens ! The strangest, however, of 
 all his proceedings, was that with respect to 
 Catiline. This wretch had killed his own brother 
 during the civil war, and now he desired Sylla to 
 put him among the proscribed, as a person still 
 alive ; which he made no difficulty of doing. 
 Catiline in return went and killed one Marcus 
 IMarius, who was of the opposite faction, brought 
 his head to Sylla, as he sat upon his tribunal in 
 the forujn, and then washed his hands in the 
 lustre water * * at the door of Apollo’s temple, 
 which was just by. 
 
 These mn^rrrs irnre nftt-th^ rnly thing that 
 aff feted - H e declared himself dic- 
 
 .^^^^toi^reviving that office in his own favour, 
 thtrS^ there had been no instance of it for 120 
 years. He got a decree of amnesty for all he 
 had done : and, as to the future, it invested him 
 with the power of life and death, of confiscating, 
 of colonizing, of building or demolishing cities, 
 of giving or taking away kingdoms at his plea- 
 sure. He exercised his power in such an inso- 
 lent and despotic manner with regard to confis- 
 cated goods, that his applications of them from 
 the tribunal were more intolerable than the con- 
 fiscations themselves. He gave to handsome 
 prostitutes, to harpers, to buffoons, and to the 
 most wicked of his enfranchised slaves, the 
 revenues of whole cities and provinces, and com- 
 pelled women of _ci>iidi‘'ion to marry some of those 
 ’"uffians. 
 
 He was desirous of an aliiarce with Pompey 
 the Great, and made him divorce the y/ile he 
 had, in order to his marrying v^^milia, the 
 daughter of Scaurus by his own wife Metella, 
 though he had to force her from Manius Glabr.o 
 by whom she was pregnant. The young lady, 
 however, died in childbed in the house of Pom- 
 pey her second husband. 
 
 Lucretius Ofella, who had besieged Marius in 
 Praeneste, now aspired to the consulship, and 
 prepared to sue for it. Sylla forbade him to 
 proceed ; and when he saw that in confidence 
 of his interest with the people, he appeared not- 
 withstanding in public as a candidate, he sent 
 one of the centurions who attended him to de- 
 spatch that brave man, while he himself sat on 
 his tribunal in the temple of Castor and Pollux, 
 and looked down upon the murder. The people 
 seized the centurion, and brought him with loud 
 complaints before Sylla. He commanded silence, 
 and told them the thing was don^ by his order ; 
 
 sage, he found it beset by Sylla’s soldiers ; 
 whereupon he ordered one of his slaves to kill 
 him. 
 
 * Here is another instance of a heathen custom 
 adopted by the Romanists. An exclusion from 
 the use of this holy water was pnsidered by the 
 Greeks as a sort of excommunication. We find 
 CEdipus prohibiting it to the murderers of Laius. 
 SoPHOC. (Edip. Act. ii. sc. i. 
 
 the centurion, therefore, was to be dismissed im- 
 mediately. 
 
 About this time he led up his triumph, which 
 was magnificent for the display of wealth, and of 
 the royal spoils which were a new spectacle ; and 
 that which crowned all, was the procession of the 
 exiles. Some of the most illustrious and most 
 powerful of the citizens followed the chariot, and 
 called Sylla their saviour and father, because by 
 his means it was that they returned to their 
 country, and were restored to their wives and 
 children. When the triumph was over, he gave 
 an account of his great actions in a set speech to 
 the people, and was no less particular in relating 
 the instances of his good fortune, than those of 
 his valour. He even concluded with an order 
 that for the future he should be called Felix 
 (that is the fortunate). But in writing to the 
 .GrecraiT?T;"OTd‘iTr 1 ti^ to their applications, 
 
 he took the additional name of Epaphroditus 
 favourite of Venus). The inscription upon the 
 trophies left among us, is, Lucius Cornelius 
 Sylla Epaphroditus. And to the twins he had 
 by Metella, he gave the names of Faustus and 
 Fausta, which in the Roman language signifies 
 auspicious and happy. 
 
 A still stronger proof of his placing more con- 
 fidence in his good fortune than in his achieve- 
 ments was his laying down the dictatorship. 
 After he had put an infinite number of people 
 to death, broke in upon the constitution, and 
 , changed the form of government, he had the 
 hardiness to leave the people full power to choose 
 consuls again : while he himself, without pretend- 
 ing to any direction of their suffrages, walked 
 about the forum as a private man, and put it in 
 the power of any person to take his life. In the 
 first election he had the mortification to see his 
 enemy Marcus Lepidus, a bold and enterprising 
 man, declared consul, not by his ovvn interest, 
 but by that of Pompey, who on this occasion 
 exerted himself with the people. And when he 
 saw Pompey going off happy in his victory, he 
 called to him, and said, “No doubt, young man, 
 your politics are very excellent, since you have 
 preferred Lepidus to Catulus, the worst and most 
 stupid of men to the best. It is high time to 
 awake and be upon your guard, now you have 
 strengthened your adversary aga.inst yourself.” 
 Sylla spoke this from something like a prophetic 
 spirit; ior Lepidus soon acted with the utmost 
 insolence, as Pompey’s declared enemy. 
 
 Sylla gave the people a magnificent entertain- 
 ment, on account of his dedicating the tenths of 
 his substance to Hercules. Tne provisions were 
 so over-abundant, that a great quantity was 
 thrown every day into the river ; and the wine 
 that was drank, was forty years old at least. In 
 the midst of this feasting which lasted many days, 
 Metella sickened and died. As the priests for- 
 bade him to approach her, and to have his house 
 defiled with mourning, he sent her a bill of 
 divorce, and ordered her to be carried to another 
 house while the breath was in her body. His 
 superstition made him very punctilious in observ- 
 ing the.se laws of the priests ; but by giving into 
 the utmost profusion he transgres.sed a law of his 
 own, which limited the expense of funerals. He 
 broke in upon his own sumptuary law too, with 
 respect to diet, by passing his time in the most 
 extravagant banquets, and having recourse to 
 debauches to combat anxiety. 
 
SYLLA. 
 
 A few months after, he presented the people 
 with a show of gladiators. And as at that time 
 men and women had no separate places, but sat 
 promiscuously in the theatre, a woman of great 
 beauty, and of one of the best families, happ'ened 
 to sit near Sylla. She was the daughter of 
 Messala, and sister to the orator Hortensius ; 
 her name Valeria ; and she had lately been 
 divorced from her husband. This woman, coming 
 behind Sylla, touched him, and took off a little 
 of the nap of his robe, and then returned to her 
 seat. Sylla looked at her, quite amazed at her 
 familiarity ; when she said, “ Wonder not, my 
 lord, at what I have done ; I had only a mind to 
 share a little in your good fortune.” Sylla was 
 far from being displeased ; on the contrary it 
 appeared that he was flattered very agreeably. 
 F or he sent to ask her name, and to inquire into 
 her family and character. Then followed an ex- 
 change of amorous regards and smiles; which 
 ended in a contract and marriage. The lady, 
 perhaps, was not to blame. But Sylla, though 
 he got a woman of reputation and great accom- 
 plishments, yet came into the match upon wrong 
 principles. Like a youth, he was caught with 
 soft looks and languishing airs, things that are 
 wont to excite the lowest of the passions. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding he had married so extraor- 
 dinary a woman, he continued his commerce with 
 actre.sses and female musicians, and sat drinking 
 whole days with a parcel of buifoons about him. 
 His chief favourites at this time were Roscius the 
 comedian, Sorex the mimic, and Metrobius who 
 
 used to act a woman’s part ; These 
 
 courses added strength to a distemper, that was 
 but slight at the beginning ; and for a long time 
 he knew not that he had an abscess within him. 
 This abscess corrupted his flesh, and turned it all 
 into lice ; so that, though he had many persons 
 employed both day and night to clean him, the 
 part taken away was nothing to that which 
 remained. His whole attire, his baths, his 
 basons, and his food were filled with that per- 
 petual flux of vermin and corruption. x\nd 
 though he bathed many times a day, to cleanse 
 and purify himself ; it was in vain. The corrup- 
 tion came on so fast, that it was impossible to 
 overcome it. 
 
 We are told, that among the ancients, Acastus, 
 the son of Pelias, died of this sickness ; and of 
 those that come nearer our times, Aleman the 
 poet, Pherecydes the divine, Callisthenes the 
 Olynthian who was kept in close prison, and 
 Mucius the lawyer. And if after these we may 
 take notice of a man who did not distinguish 
 himself by anything laudable, but was noted 
 another way, it may be mentioned, that the fugi- 
 tive slave Eunus, who kindled up the Servile 
 war in Sicily, and was afterwards taken and 
 carried to Rome, died there of this disease. 
 
 Sylla not only l oresaw his death. hn L-h^ left 
 soi^tlimg 1 elating To It in Fus votings. He 
 finished the twenty-.second book of his Commen- 
 tgrre»only ; and he tells 
 
 331 
 
 us that the Chaldeans had predicted, that after a 
 life of glory he would depart in the height of his 
 pro.sperity. He iarther acquaints us, that his 
 son, who died a little before Metella, appeared to 
 him in a dream, dressed in a mean garment, and 
 desired him to bid adieu to his cares, and go 
 along with him to his mother Metella, with 
 whom he should live at ease, and enjoy the 
 charms of tranquility. He did not, however, 
 withdraw his attention from public affairs. It 
 was but ten days before his death that he recon- 
 ciled the contending parties at Puteoli*, and gave 
 them a set of laws for the regulation of their 
 police. And the very day before he died, upon 
 the information that the quaestor Granius would 
 not pay what he was indebted to the state, but 
 waited for his death to avoid paying it at all, he 
 sent for him into his apartment, planted his ser- 
 vants about him, and ordered them to strangle 
 him. The violence with which he spoke, strained 
 him so much that the imposthume broke, and he 
 voided a vast quantity of blood. His strength 
 now failed fast, and, after he had passed the 
 night in great agonies, he expired. He left two 
 young children by Metella ; and Valeria, after 
 his death, was delivered of a daughter called 
 Posthumia; a name given of course by the 
 Romans to such as are born after the death of 
 their father. 
 
 Many of Sylla’s enemies now combined with 
 Lepidus, to prevent his having the usual honours 
 of burial. But Pompey, though he was some- 
 what displeased at Sylla, because, of all his 
 friends, he had left him only out of his will, in 
 this case interposed his authority ; and prevailed 
 upon some by his interest and entreaties, and on 
 others by menaces, to drop their opposition. 
 Then he conveyed the body to Rome, aud con- 
 ducted the whole funeral, not only with security, 
 but with honour. Such was the quantity of 
 spices brought in by the women, that exclusive of 
 those carried in 210 great baskets, a figure of 
 Sylla at full length, and of a lictor besides, was 
 made entirely of cinnamon and the choicest 
 frankincense. The day happened to be so 
 cloudy, and the rain was so much expected, that 
 it was about the ninth hourf before the corpse 
 was carried out. However, it was no sooner laid 
 upon the pile, than a brisk wind blew, and raised 
 so strong a flame, that it was consumed imme- 
 diately. But after the pile was burned down, 
 and the fire began to die out, a great ram fell 
 which lasted till night. So that his good fortune 
 continued to the last, and assisted at his funeral. 
 His monument stands in the Camptes Marines 
 and they tell us he wrote an epitaph for himself 
 to this purport : “ No friend ever did me so much 
 good, or enemy so much harm, but I repaid him 
 with interest.” 
 
 * In the Greek Dichcearchia, which is another 
 name for Puteoli. 
 t Three in the afternoon. 
 
332 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES, 
 
 LYSANDER AND SYLLA COMPARED. 
 
 We have now gone through the life of Sylla, - 
 and will proceed to the comparison. This, then, 
 Lysanderand he have in common, that they were 
 enth*ely indebted to themselves for their rise. 
 But Lysander has this advantage, that the high’ 
 offices he gained were with the consent of the 
 people, while the constitution of his country was j 
 in a sound and healthy state ; and that he got 
 nothing by force or by acting against the laws — 
 
 In civil broils the worst of men may rise. 
 
 So it was then in Rome. The people were so 
 corrupt, and the republic in so sickly a condition, 
 that tyrants sprung up on every side. Nor is it 
 any wonder if Sylla gained the ascendant, at a 
 time when wretches like Glaucias and Saturninus 
 expelled such men as Metellus ; when the sons of 
 consuls were murdered in the public assemblies ; 
 when men supported their seditious purposes 
 with .soldiers purchased with money, and laws 
 were enacted with fire and sword and every 
 species or violence.* 
 
 In such a state of things, I do not blame the 
 man who raised himself to supreme power ; all 
 I say is, that when the commonwealth was in so 
 depraved and desperate a condition, power was 
 no evidence of merit. But since the laws and 
 public virtue never flourished more at Sparta, 
 than when Lysander was sent upon the highest 
 and most important commissions, we may con- 
 clude that he was the best among the virtuous, 
 and first among the great. Thus the one, though 
 he often surrendered the command, had it as 
 often restored to him by his fellow-citizens, be- 
 cau.se his virtue which alone has a. claim to the prize 
 of honour, continued still the same.f The other, 
 after he was once appointed general, usurped the 
 command, and kept in arms for ten years, some- 
 times styling himself Consul, sometimes Pro- 
 consul, and sometimes Dictator, but was always 
 in reality a tyrant. 
 
 It is true, as we have observed above, Lysander 
 did attempt a change in the Spartan constitution, 
 but he took a milder and more legal method than 
 Sylla. It was by persuasion,! not by arms, he 
 proceeded ; nor did he attempt to overturn every- 
 thing at once. He only wanted to correct the 
 establishment as to kings. And indeed it seemed 
 natural that in a state which had the supreme 
 direction of Greece, on account of its virtue, 
 rather than any other superiority, merit should 
 gain the sceptre. For as the hunter and the 
 jockey do not so much consider the breed, as the 
 
 * We need no other instances than this to show 
 that a republican government will never do in 
 corrupt times. 
 
 t W hat kind of virtue can Plutarch possibly 
 ascribe to Lysander ? — unless he means military 
 virtue. Undoubtedly he was a man of the 
 greatest duplicity of character, of the^ greatest 
 profaneness ; for he corrupted the priests and 
 prostituted the honour of the gods, to gratify his 
 personal envy and ambition. 
 
 X It was by hypocrisj’’, by profane and impious 
 expedients. 
 
 dog or horse already bred— (for what if the foal 
 should prove a mule ?) —so the politic'an would 
 entirely miss his aim, if, instead of inquiring into 
 the qualities of a person for first magistrate, he 
 looked upon nothing but his family. Thus the 
 Spartans deposed some oi their kings, because 
 i they had not princely talents, but were persons of 
 no worth or consequence. Vice, even with high 
 birth, is dishonourable : and the honour which 
 virtue enjoys is all her own ; family has no share 
 in it. 
 
 They were both guilty of injustice, but Ly- 
 sander /or his friends, and Sylla agamst his. 
 Most of Lysander’s frauds were committed for 
 his creatures, and it was to advance to high 
 stations and absolute power that he dipped his 
 hands in so much blood ; whereas Sylla envied 
 Pompey the army, and Dolabella the naval com- 
 mand he had given them; and he attempted to 
 take them away. And when Lucretius Ofella, 
 after the greatest and most faithful services, 
 solicited the consulship, he ordered him to be 
 despatched before his eyes. Terror and dismay 
 seized all the world, when they saw one of his 
 best friends thus murdered. 
 
 If we consider their behaviour with respect to 
 riches and pleasure, we shall find the one the 
 prince, and the other the tyrant. When the 
 power and authority of I>ysander were so ex- 
 tensive, he was not guilty of one act of intemper- 
 ance or youthful dissipation. He, if any man, 
 avoided the sting of that proverb, “ Lions within 
 doors, and foxes without.” So sober, so regular, 
 so worthy of a Spartan, was his manner of living. 
 Sylla, on the other hand, neither let poverty set 
 bounds to his passions in his youth, nor years in 
 his age. But, as Sallust says, while he was 
 giving his countrymen laws for the regulation of 
 marriages and for promoting sobriety, he indulged 
 himself in adultery and every species of lust. 
 
 By his debaucheries he so drained the public 
 treasures, that he was obliged to let many cities 
 in alliance and friendship with Rome purchase 
 independence and the privilege of being governed 
 only by their own laws ; though at the same time 
 he was daily confiscating the richest and best 
 houses in Rome. Still more immense were the 
 sums he squandered upon his flatterers. Indeed, 
 what bounds or moderation could be expected in 
 his private gifts, when his heart was dilated with 
 wine, if we do but attend to one instance of his 
 behaviour in public? One day as he was selling 
 a considerable estate, which he wanted a friend to 
 have at an under-price, another offered more, and 
 the crier proclaiming the advance, he turned with 
 indignation to the people, and said, “ What out- 
 rage and tyranny is this, my friends, that I am not 
 allowed to dispose of my own spoils as I please?” 
 
 Far from such rapaciousness, Lysander, to the 
 spoils he sent his countrymen, added his own 
 share. Not that I praise him in that ; for per- 
 haps he hurt Sparta more essentially by the 
 money he brought into it, than Sylla did Rome 
 by that which he took from it. I only mention 
 it as a proof of the little regard he had for riches. 
 It was .something very particular, however, that 
 
CIMOA\ 
 
 333 
 
 Sylla, while he abandoned himself to all the 
 profusion of luxury and expense, should bring 
 the Romans to sobriety ; whereas Lysander sub- 
 jected the Spartans to those passions which he 
 restrained in himself. The former acted worse 
 than his own laws directed, and the other brought 
 his people to act worse than himself : for he filled 
 Sparta with the love of that which he knew how 
 to despise. Such they were in their political 
 capacity. 
 
 As to military achievements and acts of general- 
 ship, the number of victor es, and the dangers 
 he had to combat, Sylla is beyond comparison. 
 Lysander, indeed, gained two naval victories ; 
 to which we may add his taking of Athens ; for, 
 though that affair was not difficult in the execu- 
 tion, it was glorious in its consequences. As to 
 his miscarriage in Boeotia and at Haliartus, ill- 
 fortune, perhaps, had some concern in it, but it 
 was principally owing to indiscretion : since he 
 would not wait for the great reinforcement which 
 the king was bringing from Platsea, and which 
 was upon the point of joining him, but with an 
 ill-timed resentment and ambition, marched up 
 to the walls. Hence it was, that he was slain b^^ 
 some troops of no consideration, who sallied out 
 to the attack. He fell not as Cleombrotus did at 
 Leuctra, who was slain as he was making head 
 against an impetuous enemy ; not like Cyrus, or 
 Epaminondas, who received a mortal wound as 
 he was rallying his men and ensuring to them 
 the victory. These great men died the death of 
 generals and kings. But Lysander threw away 
 his life ingloriously like a common soldier or 
 desperate adventurer. By his death he showed 
 how right the ancient Spartans were in not 
 choosing to fight against stone-walls, where the 
 bravest man in. the world may be killed; I will 
 not say by an insignificant man, but by a child 
 or a woman. So Achilles is said to have been 
 slain by Paris at the gates of Troy. On the 
 other hand, so many pitched battles were won 
 by Sylla, and so many myriads of enemies killed, 
 that it is not easy to number them.. He took 
 Rome itself twice,* and the Piraeus at Athens, 
 not by famine, as Lysander had done, but by 
 assault, after he had defeated Archelaus in several 
 great battles at land, and forced him to take 
 refuge in his fleet. 
 
 It is a material point, too, to consider what 
 generals they had to oppose. I can look upon it 
 as no more than the play of children, to have 
 beaten Antiochus, who was no better than Alci- 
 
 * Whatever military merit he might display in 
 other battles, he had certainly none in the taking 
 of Rome ; for it was not generalship, but neces- 
 sity that brought it into his hands. 
 
 biades’s pilot, and to have outwitted Philocies 
 the Athenian demagogue — 
 
 A man whose tongue was sharpen’d — not his 
 sword. 
 
 Mithridates would not have compared them with 
 his groom, nor Marius with one of his lictors. 
 But Sylla had to contend with princes, consuls, 
 generals, and tribunes of the highest influence 
 and abilities ; and, to name but a few of them, 
 who among the Romans was more formidable 
 than Marius ; among the kings, more powerful 
 than Mithridates ; or among the people of Italy, 
 more warlike than Lamponius and Telesinus? 
 yet Sylla banished the first, subdued the second, 
 and killed .the other two. 
 
 What is of more consequence, in my opinion, 
 than anything yet mentioned, is, that Lysander 
 was supported in all his enterprises by his friends 
 at home, and owed all his success to their assist- 
 ance ; whereas Sylla, a banished man, over- 
 powered by a faction, at a time when his enemies 
 were expelling his wife, destroying his house, ' 
 and putting his friends to death, fought the 
 battles of his country on the plains of Boeotia 
 against arrnies that could not be numbered, 
 and was victorious in her cause. This was 
 not all ; Mithridates offered to second him 
 with all his power and join him with all his 
 forces against his enemies at Rome, yet he re- 
 laxed not the least ot his demands, nor showed 
 him the least countenance. He would not so 
 much as return his salutation, or give him his 
 hand, till he promised in person to relinquish 
 Asia, to deliver up his ships, and to restore 
 Bithynia and Cappadocia to their respective 
 kings. There was nothing in the whole conduct 
 of Sylla more glorious, or that showed greater 
 naagnanimity. He preferred the public good to 
 his own : like a dog of generous breed, he kept 
 his hold till his adversary had given out, and 
 after that he turned to revenge his own cause. 
 
 The difierent methods they observed with re- 
 spect to the Athenians, contribute not a little to 
 mark their characters. Sylla, though they bore 
 arms against him for Mithridates, after he had 
 taken their city, indulged them with their liberty 
 and the privilege of their own laws : Lysander 
 showed no sort of compassion for a people of 
 late so glorious and powerful, but abolished the 
 popular government, and set over them the most 
 cruel and unjust of tyrants. 
 
 Perhaps, we shall not be wide of the truth, if 
 we conclude that in the life of Sylla there are 
 more great actions, and in Lysander’s fewer 
 faults ; if we assign to the Grecian the prize of 
 temperance and prudence and to the Roman that 
 of valour and capacity for war. 
 
 CIMON. 
 
 Peripoltas the^ diviner,! who conducted king 
 Opheltas and his subjects from Thessaly into 
 Boeotia, left a family that flourished for many 
 3 ears. The greatest part of that family dwelt in 
 
 t Plutarch here introduces an obscure and 
 dirty story, for the sake of talking of the place 
 of his nativity. 
 
 Chseronea, where they^ first established them- 
 selves, after the expulsion of the barbarians. 
 But as they were of a gallant and martial turn, 
 and never spared themselves in time of action, 
 they fell in the wars with the Medes and the 
 Gauls. There remained only a young orphan 
 named Damon, and sumamed Peripoltas. Damon 
 in beauty of person and dignity of mind far 
 
334 ‘ PLUTARCH LIVES, 
 
 exceeded all of his age, but he was of a harsh 
 and morose temper, unpolished by education. 
 
 He was now in the dawn of youth, when a 
 Roman officer, who wintered with his company 
 in Chasronea, conceived a criminal passion for 
 him ; and, as he found solicitations and presents 
 of no avail, he was preparing to use lorce. It 
 seems, he despised our city, whose affairs were 
 then in a bad situation, and whose smallness and 
 poverty rendered it an object of no importance. 
 As Damon dreaded some violence, and withal 
 was highly provoked at the past attempts, he 
 formed a design against the officer’s life, and 
 drew some of his comrades into the scheme. The 
 number was but small, that the matter might be 
 more private ; in fact they were no more than 
 sixteen. One night they daubed their faces over 
 with soot, after they had drunk themselves up to 
 a pitch of elevation, and next morning fell upon 
 the Roman as he was sacrificing in the market- 
 place. The moment they had killed him, and a 
 number of those that were about him, they fled 
 • out of the city. All was now in confusion. The 
 senate of Chaeronea met, and condemned the 
 assassins to death, in order to excuse themselves 
 to the Romans. But as the magistrates supped 
 together according to custom, Damon and his 
 accomplices returned in the evening, broke into 
 the town hall, killed every man of them, and 
 then made off again. 
 
 It happened that Lucius Lucullus, who was 
 going upon some expedition, marched that waj\ 
 He stopped to make an inquiry into the affair, 
 which was quite recent, and found that the city 
 was so far from being accessory to the death of 
 the Roman officer, that it was a considerable 
 sufferer itself. He therefore withdrew the garri- 
 son, and took the soldiers with him. 
 
 Damon, for his part, committed depredations in 
 the adjacent country, and greatly harassed the 
 cit}’’. The Chaeroneans endeavoured to decoy 
 him by frequent messages and decrees in his 
 favour : and when they had got him among them 
 again, they appointed him master of the wrestling- 
 ring ; but soon took opportunity to despatch him 
 as he was anointing himself in the bagnio. Our 
 fathers tell us, that for a long time certain spectres 
 appeared on that spot, and sad groans were 
 heard ; for which reason the doors of the bagnio 
 were walled up. And to this very day those who 
 live in that neighbourhood imagine that they see 
 strange sights, and are alarmed with doleful 
 voices. There are some remains, however, of 
 Darnon’s family, who live mostly in the town of 
 Stiris in Phqcis. These are called, according to 
 the iEolic dialect, Asholomenoi^ that is. Sooty- 
 faced, on _ account of their ancestor’s having 
 smeared his face with soot, when he went about 
 the assassination. 
 
 The people of Orchomenus, who were neigh- 
 bours to the Chaeroneans, having some prejudice 
 against them, hired a Roman informer to accuse 
 the city of the murder of those who fell by the 
 hands of Damon and his associates, and to prose- 
 cute it as if it had been an individual. The 
 cause came before the governor of Macedonia, 
 for the Romans had not yet sent praetors into 
 Greece ; and the persons employed to plead for 
 the city appealed to the testimony of Lucullus. 
 Upon this the governor wrote to Lucullus, who 
 gave a true account of the affair, and by that 
 means delivered Chaeronea from utter ruin. 
 
 Our forefathers, in gratitude for their pre- 
 servation, erected a marble statue to Lucullus in 
 the market-place, close by that of Bacchus. And 
 though many ages are since elapsed, we are of 
 opinion that the obligation extends even to us. 
 We are persuaded, too, that a representation of 
 the body is not comparable to that of the mind 
 and the manners, and therefore in this work of 
 lives compared, shall insert his. We shall, how- 
 ever, always adhere to the truth ; and Lucullus 
 will think himself sufficiently repaid by our 
 perpetuating the memory of his actions. He 
 cannot want, in return for his true testimony, a 
 false_ and fictitious account of himself. When 
 a painter has to draw a fine and elegant form, 
 which happens to have some little blemish, we do 
 not want him entirely to pass over that blemish, 
 nor yet to mark it with exactness. The one 
 would spoil the beauty of the picture, and the 
 other destroy the likeness. So in our present 
 work, since it is very difficult, or rather im- 
 possible, to find any life whatever without its 
 spots and errors, we must set the good qualities 
 in full light, with all the likeness of truth. But 
 \ve consider the faults and stains that proceed 
 either from some sudden passion, or from political 
 necessity, rather as defects of virtue than signs of 
 a bad heart ; and for that reason we shall cast 
 them a little into shade, in reverence to human 
 nature, which produces no specimen of virtue 
 absolutely pure and perfect. 
 
 When we looked out for one to put in com- 
 parison with Cimon, Lucullus seemed the properest 
 person.^ Jbey were both of a warlike turn, and 
 both distinguished themselves against the bar- 
 barians. They were mild in their administration ; 
 they reconciled the contending factions in their 
 country. They both gained great victories, and 
 erected glorious trophies. No Grecian carried 
 his arms to more distant countries than Cimon, or 
 Roman than Lucullus. Llercules and Bacchus 
 only exceeded them; unless we add the ex- 
 peditions of Perseus against the Ailthiopians, 
 Medes, and Armenians, and that of Jason against 
 Colchis. But the scenes of these last actions are 
 laid in such very ancient time.s, that we have 
 some doubt whether the truth could reach us. 
 This also they have in common, that they left 
 their wars unfinished; they both pulled their 
 enemies down, but neither of them gave them 
 their death’s blow. The principal mark, how- 
 ever, of likeness in their characters, is their 
 affability and gentleness of deportment in doing 
 the honours of their houses, and the magnificence 
 and splendour with which they furnisbed their 
 tables. Perhaps, there are some other resem- 
 blances which we pass over, that may easily be 
 collected from their history itself. 
 
 Cimon was the son of Miltiades and Hegesi- 
 pyla. That lady was a Thracian, and daughter 
 to king Olorus, as it stands recorded in the poems 
 of Archelaus and Melanthius, written in honour 
 of Cimon. So that Thucydides the historian was 
 his relation, for his father was called Olorus; 
 a name that had been long in the family, and he 
 had gold mines in Thrace. Thucydides is said, 
 too. to have been killed in Scapte Hyle,* a place 
 in that country. His remains, however, were 
 brought into Attica, and his monument is shown 
 
 * Scapte Hyle signifies a wood full of trenches. 
 Stephanus (de urb.) calls it Scaptesule. 
 
c/^oiv: * ,,, 
 
 among those of Cimon’s family, near the tomb o 
 Elpinice, sister to Cimon. But Thucydides was 
 of the ward of Alimus, and Miltiades of that o 
 Lacias. M iltiades was condemned to pay a fine 
 of fifty talents, for which he was thrown into 
 prison by the government, and there he died. 
 He left his son Cimon very young, and his 
 daughter Elpinice was not yet marriageable. 
 
 Cimon, at first, was a person of no reputation, 
 but censured as a disorderly and riotous young 
 man. He was even compared to his grandfather 
 Cimon, who, for his stupidity, was called Coale- 
 tnos (that is. Idiot). Stesimbrotus, the Thasian, 
 who was his contemporary, says he had no know- 
 ledge of music or any other accomplishment 
 which was in vogue among the Greeks, and that 
 he had not the least spark of the Attic wit or 
 eloquence ; but that there was a generosity and 
 sincerity in his behaviour which showed the com- 
 position of his soul to be rather of the Pelo- 
 ponnesian kind. Like the Hercules of Euripides, 
 he was — 
 
 Rough and unbred, but great on great occasions. 
 
 And therefore we may well add that article to 
 the account Stesimbrotus has given us of him. 
 
 In his youth he was accused of a criminal 
 commerce with his sister Elpinice.* There are 
 other instances, indeed, mentioned of Elpinice s 
 mregular conduct, particularly with respect to 
 Polygnotus the painter. Hence it was, we are 
 told, that when he painted the Trojan women, 
 in the portico then called Plesianaction,\ but 
 now Pockile, he drew Elpinice s face in the cha- 
 racter of Laodice. Polygnotus, however, was 
 not a painter by profession, nor did he receive 
 wages for his work in the portico, but painted 
 without reward, to recommend himself to his 
 countrymen. So the historians write, as well as 
 the poet Melanthius, in these verses-— 
 
 The temples of the gods, 
 
 The fanes of heroes, and Cecropian halls 
 
 ±lis liberal hand adorn’d. 
 
 It is true there are some who assert that Elpinice 
 aid not live in a private commerce with Cimon, 
 but that she was publicly married to him, her 
 getting a husband 
 suitable to her birth. Afterwards Callias, a rich 
 Athenian, falling in love with her, made a pro- 
 posal to pay the government her father's fine 
 It she wou d give him her hand, which condition 
 she agreed to, and with her brother’s consent 
 becan^ his wife Still it must be acknowledged 
 ^at Cimon had his attachments to the sex. 
 Me mistresses Asteria of Salamis and 
 
 one iVlenstra, on whose account the poet Melan- 
 
 he wif f' And though 
 
 fie was legally married to Isodice the daughter 
 ot Euryptolemus the son of Megacles vet he 
 was too uxorious wh.la she lived® and at her 
 death he was inconsolable, if we may judge from 
 the elegies that were addressed to him by way 
 ot comfort and condolence. Panaetius the nhilo- 
 
 sopher thinks Archela us the physician was author 
 > of those elegies, and from the times in which 
 he flourished, the conjecture seems not impro- 
 bable. ^ 
 
 ^est of Cimon’s conduct was great and 
 admirable. In courage he was not inferior to 
 Miltiades, nor in prudence to Themistocles, and 
 he was confessedly an honester man than either 
 of them. He could not be said to come short of 
 them in abilities for war : and even while he was 
 young and without military experience, it is sur- 
 prising how much he exceeded them in political 
 Themistocles, upon the invasion 
 of the Medes, advised the people to quit their 
 city and territory, and retire to the straits of 
 balamis, to try their fortunes in a naval combat, 
 the generality were astonished at the rashness of 
 the enterpr.se. But Cimon, with a gay air led 
 the way with his friends through the Cerainicus 
 to the citadel, carrying a bridle in his hand to 
 dedicate to the goddess. This was to show that 
 Athens had no need of cavalry, but of marine 
 forces, on the present occasion. After he had 
 consecrated the bridle, and taken down a shield 
 from the wall, he paid his devotions to the god- 
 dess and then went down to the sea ; by which 
 means he inspired numbers with courage to 
 embark. Besides, as the poet Ion informs us, 
 not unhandsome in his person, but tall 
 and majestic, and had an abundance of hair 
 which curled upon 'his shoulders. He distin- 
 ^iished himself in so extraordinary a manner in 
 the battle that he gained not only the praise, but 
 the hearts of his countrymen: insomuch that 
 inany joined his train, and exhorted him to think 
 of designs and actions worthy of those at Ma- 
 rathon. 
 
 _ When he applied for a share in the administra- 
 Uon, the _ people received him with plea.sure. 
 By this time they v.^ere weary of Themistocles, 
 and as they knevv Cimon’s engaging and humane 
 behaviour to their whole body, consequent upon 
 his natural mildness and candour, they promoted 
 him to the highest honours and offices in the 
 state. Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, con- 
 tributed not a little to his advancement. He saw 
 the goodness of his disposition, and set him up 
 against the keenness and daring spirit 
 of Ihemistocles. 
 
 When the Medes were driven out of Greece 
 Cimon was elected admiral. The Athenians had 
 not now the chief command at sea, but acted 
 under the orders of Pausanias the Lacedce- 
 monian. The first thing Cimon did was to equip 
 his countrymen in a more commodious manner, 
 and to make them much better seamen than the 
 rest And as Pausanias began to treat with the 
 barbarians, and write letters to the king, about 
 betraying the fleet to them, in consequence of 
 which he treated the allies in a rough and 
 haughty style, and foolishly gave in to many 
 unnecessary and oppressive acts of authority ; 
 Cimon, on the other hand, listened to the com- 
 plaints of the injured with .so much gentleness 
 and humanity,^ that he insensibly gained the 
 ::ommand of Greece, not by arms, but by his 
 kind and obliging manners. For the greatest 
 Dart of the allies, no longer able to bear the 
 severity and pride of Pausanias, put themselves 
 inder the direction of Cimon and Aristides. At 
 he same time they wrote to the epkori, to desire 
 hem to recall Pausanias, by whom Sparta was 
 
 Cilnn Elpinice was only half sister to i 
 
 hit was "^'i ^^[‘^^dding him to marry one j 
 
 ne?h,rN. only by the father’s side. Cor- J 
 
 nelius Nepos expressly affirms it. i 
 
 actio?'°^^”^^' call it Peisian- t 
 
 t 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 33 ^ 
 
 so dishonoured, ^nd all Greece so much discom- 
 posed. 
 
 It is related that when Pausariias was at 
 Byzantium, he cast his eyes upon a young virgin 
 named Cleonice, of a noble family there, and 
 insisted on having her for a mistress. The 
 parents, intimidated by his power, were under 
 the hard necessity of giving up their daughter. 
 The young woman begged that the light might 
 be taken out of his apartment, that she might go 
 to his bed in secrecy and silence. When she 
 entered he was asleep, and she unfortunately 
 stumbled upon the candlestick, and threw it 
 down. The noise waked him suddenly, and he, 
 in his confusion, thinking it was an enemy 
 coming to assassinate him, unsheathed a dagger 
 that lay by him, and plunged it into the virgin’s 
 heart. After this he could never rest. Her 
 image appeared to him every night, and with a 
 menacing tone repeated this heroic verse — 
 
 Go to the fate which pride and lust prepare ! 
 
 The allies, highly incensed at this infamous 
 action, joined Cimon to besiege him in i >yzan- 
 tium. But he found means to escape thence : 
 and as he was still haunted by the spectre, he is 
 said to have applied to a temple at Heraclea,* 
 where the manes of the dead were consulted. 
 There he invoked the spirit of Cleonice, t and 
 entreated her pardon. She appeared, and told 
 him he would soon be delivered from all his 
 troubles, after his return to Sparta : in which, 
 it seems, his death was enigmatically foretold, f 
 These particulars v/e have from many historians. 
 
 All the confederates had now put themselves 
 under the conduct of Cimon, and he sailed with 
 them to Thrace, upon intelligence that some of 
 the most honourable of the Persians, and of the 
 king’s relations, had seized the city of Eion upon 
 the river Strymon, and greatly harassed the 
 Greeks in that neighbourhood. Cimon engaged 
 and defeated the Persian forces, and then shut 
 them up in the town. After this, he dislodged 
 the Thracians above the Strymon, who had used 
 to supply the town with provisions, and kept so 
 strict a guard over the country that no convoys 
 could escape him. By this means the place was 
 reduced to such extremity that Butes, the king’s 
 general, in absolute despair, set fire to it, and 
 so perished there with his friends and all his 
 substance. 
 
 In consequence of this Cimon became master 
 of the tov/n, but there was no advantage to be 
 reaped from it worth mentioning, because the 
 barbarians had destroyed all by fire. The 
 country about it, however, was very beautiful 
 and fertile, and that he settled with Athenians. 
 For this reason the people of Athens permitted 
 
 * Heraclea was a place near Olympia. Pau- 
 sanias applied to the necromancers there called 
 Psychagogi, whose office it was to call up de- 
 parted spirits. 
 
 t Thus we find that it was a custom in the 
 Pagan as well as in the Hebrew theology, to 
 conjure up the spirits of the dead, and that the 
 witch of Endor was not the only witch in the 
 world. 
 
 t The Lacedaemonians having resolved to 
 seize him, he fled for refuge to a temple of 
 Minerva called Chalcioicos. There they shut 
 him up and starved him. 
 
 him to erect there three marble Hermes, which 
 had the following inscriptions : 
 
 Where Strymon with his silver waves 
 The lofty towers of Eion laves. 
 
 The hapless Mede, with ^ amine press’d. 
 
 The force of Grecian arms confess’d. 
 
 Let him, who born in distant days, 
 
 Beholds these monuments pf praise — 
 
 These forms that valour’s glory save — 
 
 And sees how Athens crowns the brave, 
 
 For honour feel the patriot-sigh, 
 
 And for his country learn to die. 
 
 Afar to Phrygia’s fated lands 
 When Mnestheus leads his Attic bands, 
 Behold ! he bears in Homer still 
 The palm of military skill, 
 
 In every age, on every coast, 
 
 ’Tis thus the sons of Athens'boast ! 
 
 Though Cimon’s name does not appear in any of 
 these inscriptions, yet his contemporaries con- 
 sidered them as the highest pitch of honour. 
 For neither Themistocles n;)r Miltiades were 
 favoured with anything of that kind. Nay, 
 when the latter asked only for a crown of olive, 
 Sochares of the ward of Decelea stood up in 
 the midst of the assembly, and spoke against it 
 in terms that were not candid indeed, but agree- 
 able to the people. He said, “ Miltiades, when 
 you shall fight the barbarians alone and conquer 
 alone, then ask to have honours paid you alone.” 
 What was it then that induced them to give the 
 preference so greatly to this action of Cimon ? 
 Was it not that, under the other generals, they 
 fought for their lives and existence as a people, 
 but under him they were able to distress their 
 enemies, by carrying war into the countries 
 where they had established themselves, and by 
 colonizing Eion and Amphipolis ? They planted 
 a colony too in the isle of Scyros,* which was 
 reduced by Cimon on the occasion I am going 
 to mention. The Dolopes, who then held it, 
 paid no attention to agriculture. They had so 
 long been addicted to piracy that at last they 
 spared not even the merchants and strangers 
 who came into their ports, but in that of Ctesium 
 plundered some Thessalians who came to traffic 
 with them, and put them in prison. These 
 prisoners, however, found means to escape, and 
 went and lodged an impeachment against the 
 place before the Amphictyones, who commanded 
 the whole island to make restitution. Those 
 who had no concern in the robbery were un- 
 willing to pay anything, and, instead of that, 
 called upon the persons who committed it, and 
 had the goods in their hands, to make satisfac- 
 tion. But these pirates, apprehensive of the 
 consequence, sent to invite Cimon to come with 
 his ships and take the town, which they pro- 
 mised to deliver up to him. In pursuance of 
 this, Cimon took the island, expelled the Dolopes, 
 and cleared the iEgean sea of corsairs. 
 
 This done, he recollected that their ancient hero 
 Theseus, the son of iEgeus, had retired from 
 Athens to Scyros, and was there treacherously 
 killed by king Lycomedes, who entertained some 
 suspicion of him. And as there was an oracle 
 which had enjoined the Athenians to bring back 
 
 * This happened about the beginning of the 
 seventy-seventh olympiad. 
 
CIMON. 
 
 his remains,* and to honour him as a demi-god 
 Cimon set himself to search for his tomb Tnis 
 was no easy undertaking, for the people of Scyros 
 had along refused to declare where he lay or 
 to suffer any search for his bones. At last with 
 much pains and inquiry, he discovered the reposi- 
 tory, and put hxs remains, set off with all imagin- 
 able magnificence, on board his own galley, and 
 earned them to the ancient seat of that hero 
 almost 400 years after he had left it.f ' 
 
 pleasure 
 
 than this event. To commemorate it, they imsti- 
 tuted gnmes, in which the tragic poets were to try 
 tneir skill ; and the dispute was very remarkable. 
 Sophocles, then a young man, brought his first 
 piece upon the theatre; and Apliepsion, the 
 archon, perceiving that the audience were not 
 unprejudiced, did not appoint the judges by lot in 
 ^e usiml manner Ihe method he took was this : 
 when Cimon and his officers had entered the 
 theatre, and made the due libations to the god 
 who presided over the games, the archon would 
 not suffer them to retire, but obliged them to sit 
 ^ a” «ath, one out of 
 
 extraordinary emulation among the actors. So- 
 phocles gained the prize ; at which ^schylus was 
 so much grieved and disconcerted, that he could 
 not bear to stay much longer in Athens, but in 
 
 Sne^Gela ““I 
 
 Ion tells us, that when he was very young, and 
 lately come from Chios to Athens, he supped at 
 Laomedon's, with Cimon. After supperV when 
 W Cimon was desired to 
 
 so agreeably, that the company 
 tocleT F ” 1 ' politeness to Themis- 
 
 ^ occasion, said, he had 
 P^^y “P*^" harp ; but he 
 
 greatness. The conversation afterwards turned 
 US,"?,'*'® Cimon, and each of the guests 
 
 cons derail .'“h*’ f I*™ 'he^most 
 
 Si? wh?^h t *?’ mentioned only 
 
 this, which he looked upon as the most artful 
 expedient he had made use of. A great number 
 of barbarians were made prisoners in Sestos and 
 
 ^ke a division of the booty. Cimon placed the 
 prisoners, quite naked, on one side, and all their 
 the^'h''"^" complained, 
 
 th^m ^ ’ whereupon he bade 
 
 P^^^ pleased, assuring them 
 left "'0“‘d be satisfied with what 
 
 to make'rh^^ '“d Samian advised them 
 P .choice of the Persian spoils, and of course 
 
 nin^ To"r?hP'‘''"* Sha/e of the Mh^ 
 
 private fo? thl Cimon was ridiculed in 
 
 thT?l?ie? had because 
 
 ine allies had chains of gold, rich collars nnH 
 
 Se Ath'^*"^^'' scarlet and purple to show, 
 wnue the Athenians bad nothing but a parcel of 
 naked slaves, and those very tnfit for labour 
 pr^«L>n ^ fj'iends and relations of the 
 
 prisoners came down from Phrygia and Lydia 
 
 337 
 
 and gave large sums for their ransom. So that 
 nrZfl; r ^ money purchased four months’ 
 K ^ quantity of gold 
 
 besides to the Athenian treasury. ^ 
 
 Cimon by this time had acquired a great 
 fortune ; and what he had gained gloriously in the 
 war from the enemy, he laid out with as much 
 reputation upon his fellow citizens. He ordered 
 the fences of his fields and gardens to be thrown 
 down, that strangers, as well as his own country- 
 men, might freely partake of his fruit. He had a 
 .supper provided at his house every day, in which 
 the dishes were plain, but sufficient for a multi- 
 tude of guests. Every poor citizen repaired to it 
 at pleasure, and had his diet without care or 
 trouble ; by which means he was enabled to give 
 proper attention to public affairs. Aristotle, 
 indeed, says, this supper was not provided for all 
 the Citizens m general, but only for those of his 
 ^ibe, which was that of Lacia.* 
 
 When he walked out, he used to have a retinue 
 of young men well clothed, and if he happened to 
 meet an aged citizen in a mean dress, he ordered 
 ^me one of them to change clothes with him. 
 
 his was great and noble. But beside this the 
 same attendants carried with them a quantitv of 
 money, and when they met in the market-plare 
 with any necessitous person of tolerable appear- 
 ance, they took care to slip some pieces into his 
 hand as privately as possible. Cratinus, the 
 comic writer, seems to have referred to these 
 circumstances in one of his pieces intitled Archi- 
 
 before?^??n' delivered to them four years 
 olympi’ad. seventy-sixth 
 
 yeirr'“we'a‘?e“'i'’°‘a”5'^®n^ ■><» 
 
 wote 800 persuaded, therefore, that he 
 
 Even I Metrobius, though a scrivener, hoped 
 io pass a cheerful and a sleek old age 
 And live to my last hour at Cimon s table ; 
 
 Cimon ! the best and noblest of the Greeks ! 
 Whose wide-spread bounty vied with that of 
 heaven ! 
 
 But, ah ! he’s gone before me ! 
 
 Gwgias the Leontine gives him this character ; 
 
 He got riches to use them, and used them so as 
 to be honoured on their account.” And Critias 
 one of the thirty tyrants, in his elegies thus 
 expresses the utmost extent of hLs wishes : 
 
 The wealth of Scopas't heirs, the soul of Cimon 
 And the famed trophies of Agesilaus. 
 
 Lichas the Lacedaemonian, we know, gained a 
 great name among the Greeks, by nothing but 
 entertaining strangers who came to see the p'ublic 
 exercises of the Spartan youth. But the magni- 
 hcence of Cimon exceeded even the ancient 
 hospitality and bounty of the Athenians. They 
 indeed taught the Greeks to sow bread-corn, to 
 avail themselves of the use of wells, and of the 
 benefit of fire : in these things they jxistly glory, 
 tfut Eimon s house was a kind of common hall or 
 all the people ; the first fruits of his lands were 
 theirs : whatever the seasons produced of excellent 
 and agreeable, they freely gathered ; nor were 
 stranprs in the least debarred from them : so 
 that he in some measure revived the community 
 of pods, which prevailed in the reign of Saturn 
 and v/hich the poets tell so much of. Those 
 
 * Cimon's ward being afterwards called Oeneis 
 It must be reconciled with this place from Ste- 
 phanus, who tells us, LaciacUe were a i>eoi>le 
 0/ the ward Oeneis. ^ 
 
 ^ Scopes, a rich Thessalian, is mentioned in the 
 lire of Cato. 
 
338 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 who malevolently ascribed this liberality of his to 
 a desire of flattering or courting the people, were 
 refuted by the rest of his conduct, in which he 
 favoured the nobility, and inclined to the consti- 
 tution and custom of Lacedaemon. When Themis- 
 tocles wanted to raise the power and privileges of 
 the commons too high, he joined Aristides to 
 oppose him. In like manner he opposed Ephi- 
 altes, who, to ingratiate himself with the people, 
 attempted to abolish the court of Areopagus. 
 He saw all persons concuned in the administra- 
 tion, except Aristides and Ephialtes, pillaging the 
 public, yet he kept his own hands clean, and in 
 all his speeches and actions continued to the last 
 perfectly disinterested. One instance of this they 
 give us in his behaviour to Rhoesaces, a barbarian 
 who had revolted from the king of Persia, and 
 was come to Athens with great treasures. This 
 man, finding himself harassed by informers there, 
 applied to Cimon for his protection ; and, to gain 
 his tavour, placed two cups, the one full of gold, 
 and the other of silver darics, in his antechamber. 
 Cimon, casting his eye upon them, smiled, and 
 asked him, whether he should choose to have 
 him his mercenary or his friend ? “ My friend, 
 
 undoubtedly, ” said the barbarian. “ Go then, ” 
 said Cimon, “ and take these things back with 
 you ; for if I be your friend, your money will be 
 mine whenever I have occasion for it.” 
 
 About this time, the allies, though they paid 
 their contributions, began to scruple the furnish- 
 ing of ships and men. They wanted to bid adieu 
 to the troubles of war, and to till the ground in 
 quiet and tranquility, particularly as the bar- 
 barians kept at home, and gave them no dis- 
 turbance. The other Athenian generals took 
 every method to compel them to make good their 
 quota, and by prosecutions and fines rendered 
 the Athenian government oppressive and in- 
 vidious. But Cimon took a different course 
 when he had the command. He used no com- 
 pulsion to any Grecian ; he took money and 
 ships unmanned of such as did not choose to 
 serve in person ; and thus suffered them to be 
 led by the charms of ease to domestic employ- 
 ment, to husbandry and manufactures : so that, 
 of a warlike people, they became, through an 
 inglorious attachment to luxury and pleasure, 
 quite unfit for anything in the military depart- 
 ment. On the other hand, he made all the 
 Athenians in their turn serve on board his ships, 
 and kept them in continual exercise. By these 
 means he extended the Athenian dominion over 
 the allies, who were all the while paying him for 
 it. The Athenians were always upon one expe- 
 dition or other, had their weapons ibr ever in 
 their hands, and were trained up to every fatigue 
 of service ; hence it was that the allies learned 
 to fear and flatter them, and instead of being 
 their fellow soldiers as formerly, insensibly be- 
 came their tributaries and subjects. 
 
 Add to this, that no man humbled the pride 
 and arrogance of the great king more than 
 Cimon. Not satisfied with driving him out of 
 Greece, he pursued his footsteps, and without 
 suffering him to take breath, ravaged and laid 
 waste some parts of his dominions, and drew 
 over others to the Grecian league ; insomuch 
 that in all Asia, from Ionia to Pamphylia, there 
 was not a Persian standard to be seen. As soon 
 as he was informed that the king's fleet and 
 armies lay upon the Pamphylian coast, he 
 
 wanted to intimidate them in such a manner that 
 they- should never more venture beyond the 
 Chelidonian isles. For this purpose he set sail 
 from Cnidus and Triopium with a fleet of 200 
 galleys, which Themistocles had, in their fir.^t 
 construction, made light and fit to turn with the 
 utmost agility. Cimon widened them, and 
 joined a platform to the deck of each, that there 
 might in time of action be room for a greater 
 number of combatants. When he arrived at 
 Phaselis, which was inhabited by Greeks, but 
 would neither receive his fleet, nor revolt from 
 the king, he ravaged their territories, and ad- 
 vanced to assault their walls. Hereupon, the 
 Chians who were among his forces, having of old 
 had a friendship for the people of Phaselis, on 
 one side endeavoured to pacify Cimon, and on 
 the other addressed themselves to the townsmen, 
 by letters fastened to arrows, which they shot 
 over the walls. At length they reconciled the 
 two parties ; the conditions were that the Pha- 
 selites should pay down ten talents, and should 
 follow Cimon’s standard against the barbarians. 
 
 Ephorus says Tithraustes commanded the 
 king’s fleet, and Pherendates his land forces ; 
 but Callisthenes will have it that Ariomandes the 
 son of Gobryas was at the head of the Persians. 
 He tells us farther, that he lay at anchor in the 
 river Eurymedon, and did not yet choose to come 
 to an engagement with the Greeks, because he 
 expected a reinforcement of e ghty Phoenician 
 ships from Cyprus. On the other hand, Cimon 
 wanted to prevent that junction, and therefore 
 sailed with a re.solution to compel the Persians 
 to fight, if they declined it. To avoid it they 
 pushed up the river. But when Cimon came up 
 they attempted to make head against him with 
 600 ships, according to Phanodemus, or, as 
 Ephorus writes, with 350. They performed, 
 however, nothing worthy of such a fleet, but 
 presently made for land. The foremost got on 
 shore, and escaped to the rrmy wi ich was drawn 
 up hard by. The Greeks laid hold on the rest, 
 and handled them very roughly, as well as their 
 ships A certain proof that the Persian fleet 
 was very numerous is, that though many in all 
 probability got away, and many others were 
 destroyed, yet the Athenians took no less than; 
 200 vessels. / 
 
 The barbarian land forces advanced close td 
 the sea : but it appeared to Cimon an arduous 
 undertaking to make good his landing by dint 
 of sword, and with his troops, who were fatigued 
 with the late action, to engage those that were 
 quite iresh and many times their number. Not- 
 withstanding this, he saw the courage and spirits 
 of his men elevated with their late victory, and 
 that they were very desirous to be led again.st 
 the enemy. He there ore disembarked his 
 heavy-armed infantry, yet warm from the 
 late action. 'Ihey rushed forward with loud 
 shouts, and the Persians stood and received them 
 with a good counienance. A sharp conflict 
 ensued, in which the bravest and most distin- 
 guished among the Athenians were slain. At 
 last with much difficulty the barbarians were put 
 to the rout ; many were killed, and many others 
 were taken, together with their pavilions full of 
 all manner of rich spoil. 
 
 Thus Cimon, like an excellent champion, won 
 two prizes in one day, and by these two actions 
 outdid the victory of Salamis at sea, and of 
 
C/MOAT. 
 
 Plataea at land. He added, however, a new 
 trophy to his victories. Upon intelligence 'that 
 the eighty Phoenician galleys, which were not in 
 the battle, were arrived at Hydrus,* he steered 
 that way as fast as possible. They had not 
 received any certain account of the forces to 
 whose assistance they were going ; and as this 
 suspense much intimidated them, they were 
 easily defeated, with the loss of all their ships 
 and most of their men. 
 
 These events so humbled the king of Persia 
 that he came into that famous peace, which 
 limited him to the distance of a day’s journey | 
 on horseback from the Grecian sea; and by 
 which he engaged that none of his galleys or 
 other ships of war should ever come within the 
 Cyanean and Chelidonian isles. Callisthenes, 
 indeed, denies that the king agreed to these 
 conditions; but he allows that his subsequent 
 behaviour was equivalent to such an agreement. 
 tor his fears consequent upon the defeat, made 
 him retire so far from Greece that Pericles, with 
 hlty ships, and Ephialtes with no more than 
 thirty, sailed beyond the Chelidonian rocks with- 
 ^t meeting with any fleet of the barbarians. 
 However in the collection of Athenian decrees 
 made by Craterus, there is a copy of the articles 
 ot this peace, which are in substance the same 
 fu are told, also, 
 
 that the Athenians built an altar to Peace on 
 t^h.s occasion, and that they paid particular 
 honours to Callias who negociated the treaty 
 bo much was raised from the sale of the spoils, 
 
 , that beside what was leserved for other occa- 
 I the people had money enough to build the 
 
 I wall on the south side of the citadel. Nay su-h 
 j was the treasure this expedition afforded, that 
 ■ foundations of the long walls 
 
 called Legs ; they were not finished indeed till 
 
 they 
 
 were to be erected was marshy and full of water, 
 Cimon at his own expense had the bottom 
 secured by ramming down large stones and 
 
 Iheth^ K ^ adorned 
 
 the city with those elegant and noble places for 
 exercise and disputation, whi:h a little after 
 came to be so much admired. He planted the 
 with plane trees; and whereas the 
 academy before was a dry and unsightly plat, 
 he brought water to it, and sheltered it with 
 shady^’w^lk^ abounded with clean allies and 
 
 Persians refused to evacuate 
 the Chersonesus, and, instead of that, called 
 ^ hracians to their assistance. Cimon 
 .et out against them from Athens with a very 
 fevv galleys, and as they looked upon him with 
 an 1 account, he attacked them 
 
 and with four ships only took thirteen of theirs’ 
 Ihus he expelled the Persians, and beat the 
 
 339 
 
 Thracians tc^ ; by which success he reduced 
 the whole Chersonesus to the obedience of 
 Athens. After this, he defeated at sea the 
 Ihpians, who had revolted from the Athenians 
 took three and thirty of their ships, and stormed 
 their town. The gold mines which were in the 
 neighbouring continent he secured to his country- 
 men, together with the whole Thasian terri- 
 tones. 
 
 • thence there was an easy opening to 
 
 invade Macedonia, and possibly to conquer great 
 part of it , and as he neglected the opportunity 
 It was thought to be owing to the presents which 
 king Alexander made him. His enemies, there- 
 fore, inipeached him for it, and brought him to 
 his trial. In his defence he thus addressed his 
 judges: t have no connection with rich 
 
 lonians or Thessalians, whom other generals 
 have applied to, in hopes of receiving compli- 
 ments and treasures from them. My attach- 
 ment IS to the Macedonians,* whose frugality 
 and sobriety I honour and imitate; things pre- 
 ferable with me to all the wealth in the world. 
 
 T I • j 1 . vvcaiLll 111 un( 
 
 1 love indeed to enrich my country at the ex- 
 pense of Its enemies.” Stesimbrotus, who men- 
 
 T no such place as ffydrus is to be found 
 Lubinus thinks we should read Sydra, which was 
 ?ead^H‘ Cilicia. Dacier proposes to 
 read ^^yd'-ussa, which was one of the Cyclades. 
 
 Cvorus fn^P only a corruption of 
 
 thS ’Jm P* '•) tells us Cimon sailed 
 
 t Pour hundred furlongs. 
 
 U oLcsuiiurocus, wno men- 
 
 tions this trial, says Elpinice waited on Pericles 
 at his ovvn house, to entreat that he would 
 behave with some lenity to her brother : for 
 Lencles was the most vehement accuser that he 
 had. At present, he only said, “You are old. 
 Llpmice, i^ch too old to transact such business 
 as this. However, when the cause came on, he 
 was favourable enough to Cimon, and rose up 
 only once to speak during the whole impeach- 
 ment, and then he did it in a slight manner. 
 L.imon therefore was honourably acquitted. 
 
 As to the rest of his administration, he op- 
 posed and restrained the people who were in- 
 vading the province of the nobility, and wanted 
 to appropriate the direction of everything to 
 themselves. But when he was gone out upon a 
 new expedition they broke out again, and over- 
 turning the constitution and most sacred customs 
 of their country, at the instigation of Ephialtes 
 they took from the council of Areopagus those 
 causes that used to come before it, and left it 
 the copizance of but very few. Thus, by bring- 
 ing all matters before them.selves, they made 
 the government a perfect democracy. And this 
 mey did with the concurrence of Pericles, who 
 by this time was grown very powerful, and had 
 espoused their party. It was with great indicr- 
 nation that Cimon found, at his return, the 
 dignity of that high court insulted ; and he set 
 himself to restore its jurisdiction, and to revive 
 such an aristocracy as had obtained under Clis- 
 thenes. Upon this his adversaries raised a great 
 clamour, and exasperated the people against 
 him. not forgetting those stories about his sister 
 and his own attachment to the Lacedaemonians! 
 Hence those verses of Eupolis about Cimon— 
 
 The manuscripts in general have Lacedae- 
 monians ; and that is probably the true reading 
 hor Cimon is well known to have had a strong 
 attachment to that people. Besides, the Mace- 
 donians were not a .sober people. As to what 
 some object, that it is strange he should make 
 no mention of the Macedonians, when he was 
 accused of being bribed by them : the answer is 
 easy vve are not certain that Plutarch has given 
 us all Cimon s defence. 
 
340 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 He's not a villain, but a debauchee, : 
 
 Whose careless heart is lost on wine and women. i 
 The time has been, he slept in Lacedaemon, i 
 
 And left poor Elpinice here alone. i 
 
 But if with all his negligence and love of wine, 
 he took so many cities, and gained so many 
 victories, it is plain that if he had been a sober 
 man and attentive to business, none of the 
 Greeks, either before or after him, could have 
 exceeded him in great and glorious actions. 
 
 From his first setting out in life, he had an 
 attachment to the Lacedaemonians. According 
 to Stesimbrotus, he called one of the twins he 
 had by a Clitonian woman, Lacedaemonius, and 
 the otner Eleus ; and Pericles often took occasion 
 to reproach them with their mean descent by the 
 mother’s side. But Diodorus the geographer 
 writes that he had both these sons, and a third 
 named Thessalus, by Isodice daughter to Eury- 
 ptolemus the son of Megacles. 
 
 The Spartans contributed not a little to the 
 promotion of Cimon. Be ng declared enemies to 
 Themistocles, they much rather chose to adhere 
 to Cimon, though but a young man, at the head 
 of affairs in Athens. The Athenians too at first 
 saw this with pleasure, because they reaped great 
 advantages from the regard which the Spartans 
 had for Cimon. When they began to take the 
 lead among the allies, and were gaining the chief 
 direction of all the business of the league, it was 
 no uneasiness to them to see the honour and 
 esteem he was held in. Indeed, Cimon was the 
 man they pitched upon for transacting that busi- 
 ness, on account of his humane behaviour to the 
 allies, and his interest with the Lacedaemonians. 
 But when they were become great and powerful, 
 it gave them pain to see Cimon still adoring the 
 Spartans. For he was always magnifying that 
 people at their expense ; and particularly, as 
 Stesimbrotus tells us, when he had any fault to 
 find with them, he used to say, “ The Lace- 
 daemonians would not have done so.” On this 
 account his countrymen began to envy and to 
 hate him. 
 
 They had, however, a still heavier complaint 
 against him, which took its rise as follows. In the 
 fourth year of the reign of Archidamus the son of 
 Zeuxidamus, there happened the greatest earth- 
 quake at Sparta that ever was heard of. The 
 ground in many parts of Laconia was cleft 
 asunder ; Mount Taygetus felt the shock, and 
 its ridges were torn off ; the whole city was dis- 
 mantled, except five houses. The young men 
 and boys were exercising in the portico, and it is 
 said that a little before the earthquake a hare 
 crossed the place, upon which the young men, 
 naked and anointed as they were, ran out in 
 sport after it. The buildmg fell upon the boys 
 that remained, and destroyed them altogether. 
 Their monument is still called, from that event, 
 Sismatia. 
 
 Archidamus, amidst the present danger, per- 
 ceived another that was likely to ensue, and, as 
 he saw the people busy in endeavouring to save 
 their most valuable ' movables, he ordered the 
 trumpets to give the alarm, as if some enemy 
 were ready to fall upon them, that they might 
 repair to him immediately with their weapons in 
 their hands. I'his was the only thing which at 
 that crisis saved Sparta. For the Helots flocked 
 together on all sides from the fields to despatch 
 
 such as had escaped the earthquake ; but finding 
 them armed and in good order, they returned to 
 their villages, and declared open war. At the 
 same time they persuaded some of their neigh- 
 bours, among whom were the Messenians, to join 
 them against Sparta. 
 
 In this great distress the Lacedaemonians sent 
 Periclidas to Athens, to beg for succours. Aristo- 
 phanes,* in his comic way, says, “There was an 
 extraordinary contrast between his pale face and 
 his red robe, as he sat a suppliant at the altars, 
 and asked us for troops." Ephialtes strongly 
 opposed and protested against giving any assist- 
 ance to re-establish a city which was rival to their 
 own, insisting that they ought rather to suffer 
 the pride of Sparta to be trodden under foot. 
 Cimon, however, as Critias tells us, preferred the 
 relief of Sparta to the enlargement of the Athenian 
 power, and persuaded the people to march with a 
 great army to its aid. Ion mentions the words 
 which had the most effect upon them : he desired 
 them, it seems, not to suffer Greece to be maimed, 
 nor to deprive their own city of its companion. 
 
 When he returned from assisting the Lacedae- 
 monians, he marched with his ariny through 
 Corinth. Lachartus complained in high terms of 
 his bringing in his troops without permission of 
 the citizens : “ For, ” said he, “when we knock 
 at another man’s door, we do not enter without 
 leave from the master.” “ But you, Lachartus,” 
 answered Cimon, “ did not knock at the gates of 
 Cleone and Megara, but broke them in pieces, 
 and forced your way in, upon this principle, that 
 nothing should be shut against the strong.” 
 With this boldness and propriety too did he 
 speak to the Corinthian, and then pursued his 
 march. 
 
 After this, the Spartans called in the Athenians 
 a second time against the Messenians and Helots 
 in Ithome.f But when they vvere arrived, they 
 were more afraid of their spirit of enterprise than 
 of the enemy, and therefore, of all their allies, 
 sent them only back again, as persons suspected 
 of some dishonourable design. They returned 
 full of resentment, of course, f and now openly 
 declared themselves against the partisans of the 
 Lacedaemonians, and particularly against Cimon. 
 In consequence of this, upon a slight pretence, 
 they banished him for ten years, which is the 
 term the ostracism extends to. 
 
 In the mean time, the Lacedaemonians, in their 
 return from an expedition in which they bad 
 delivered Delphi from the Phocians, encamped 
 at Tengara. The Athenians came to give them 
 battle. On this occasion Cimon appeared in arms 
 among those of his own tribe, which was that of 
 Oeneis, to fight for his country against the Lace- 
 daemonians. When the council of five hundred 
 heard of it, they were afraid that his enemies 
 would raise a clamour against him, as if he was 
 only come to throw things into contusion, and to 
 bring the Lacedaemonians into Athens, and there- 
 fore forebade the generals to receive him. Cimon, 
 upon this, retired, after he had desired Euthip- 
 pus the Anaphlystian, and the rest of his friends, 
 who were most censured as partisans of Sparta, 
 
 *-Lysistrata, 1 . 1140. 
 
 f The Spartans were not skilled in sieges. 
 
 X The Athenians, in resentment of this affront, 
 broke the alliance with Sparta, and joined in 
 confederacy with the Argives. Thucyd. 1 . i. 
 
CIMON. 
 
 341 
 
 to exert themselves gloriously against the enemy, 
 and by their behaviour to wipe off the aspersion. 
 
 These brave men, in number about a hundred, 
 took Cimon's armour (as a sacred pledge) into the 
 midst of their little band, formed themselves into 
 a close body, and fought till they all fell with the 
 greatest ardour imaginable. The Athenians re- 
 gretted them exceedingly and repented of the 
 unjust censures they had fixed upon them. 
 Their resentment against Cimon, too, soon 
 abated, partly from the remembrance of his past 
 services, and partly from the difficulties they lay 
 under at the present juncture. They were beaten 
 in the great battle fought at Tanagra, and they 
 expected another army would come against them 
 from Peloponnesus the next spring. Hence it 
 was, that they recalled Cimon from banishment, 
 and Pericles himself was the first to propose it. 
 With so much candour were differences managed 
 then, so moderate the resentments of men, and 
 so easily laid down, where the public good re- 
 qu red it ! Ambition itself, the strongest of all 
 pa.ssions, yielded to the interests and necessities 
 of their country ! 
 
 Cimon, soon after his return, put an end to the 
 war, and re onciled the two cities After the 
 peace was made, he saw the Athenians could not 
 sit down quietly, but still wanted to be in m.otion, 
 and to aggrandize themselves by new expeditions. 
 To prevent their exciting further troubles in 
 Greece, and giving a handle for intesti.;e war.s, 
 and heavy complaints of the allies against Athens, 
 on account of their formidable fleets traversing 
 the seas about the islands and round Pelopon- 
 nesus, he fitted out a fleet of 200 sail, to carry 
 war into Egypt and Cyprus.* This he thought, 
 
 * The history of the first expedition is this. 
 While Cimon was employed in his enterprise 
 against Cyprus, Inarus, king of Libya, having 
 brought the greatest part of lower Egypt to 
 revo.t from Artaxerxes, called in the Athenians 
 to assist him to complete his conquest. Here- 
 upon the Athenians quitted Cyprus, and sailed 
 into Egypt. They made themselves masters of 
 the Nile, and attacking Memphis, seized two of 
 the outworks, and attempted the third, called the 
 ivlnte 'wall. But the expedition proved very 
 unfortunate. Artaxerxes sent Megabyzus with 
 a powerful army into Egypt. He deteated the 
 rebels and the Libyans their associates : drove 
 the Creeks from Memphis, shut them up in th« 
 island of Prospitis eighteen months, and at la.st 
 forced them to surrender. They almost all 
 perished in that war, which lasted s x years. 
 Inarus, in violation of the public faith, was 
 crucified. 
 
 Ihe second expedition was undertaken a few 
 years after, and was not more succes.sful. The 
 Athenians went against Cyprus with 200 galleys. 
 While they were besieging Citium there, Amyr- 
 ^us the Saite applied to them for succours in 
 Egypt, and Cimon sent him sixty of his galleys. 
 Some say he went with them himself ; others, 
 that he continued before C.tium. But nothing of 
 moment was tran.sacted at this time to the pre- 
 judice of the Persians in Egypt. However in 
 the tenth year of Darius Nothus, Amyrtaeus 
 ^*" 0 ™ the fens, and, being joined by all 
 the Egyptians, drove the Persians out of the 
 kingdom, and became king of the whole country. 
 Ihucyd. 1. li. Diod. Sic. 1. xi. 
 
 would answer two intentions J it would accustom 
 the Athenians to conflicts with the barbarians, 
 and it would improve their substance in an 
 honourable manner, by bringing the rich spoils of 
 their natural enemies into Greece. 
 
 When all was now ready, and the army on the 
 point of embarking, Cimon had this dream. An 
 angry bitch seemed to bay at him, and, some- 
 thing between barking and a human voice, to 
 utter these words : “ Come on ; I and my whelps 
 with pleasure shall receive thee.” Though the 
 dream was hard to interpret, Astyphilus the 
 Posidonian, a great diviner, and friend ot Cimon’s, 
 told him it signified his death. He argued thus : 
 a dog is an enemy to the man he barks at ; and 
 no one can give his enemy greater pleasure than 
 by his death. The mixture of the voice pointed 
 out that the enemy was a Mede, for the armies of 
 the Medes are composed of Greeks and bar- 
 barians. After this dream, he had another sign 
 in sacrificing to Bacchu.s. When the priest had 
 killed the victim, a swarm of ants took up the 
 clotted blood by little and little, and laid it upon 
 Cimon s great toe. This they did for some time 
 without any one’s taking notice of it ; at last 
 Cimon himself observed it, and at the same 
 instant the soothsayer came and showed him the 
 Lver without a head. 
 
 The expedition, however, could not now be put 
 off, and therefore he set sail. He sent sixty of 
 his galleys against Egypt, and with the rest made 
 for the Asiatic coast, where he defeated the king’s 
 fleet, consisting of Phcenician and Cilician ships, 
 made himself master of the cities in that circuit, 
 and watched his opportunity to penetrate into 
 Egypt. Everything was great in the designs he 
 formed. He 'thought of nothing less than over- 
 turning the whole Persian empire ; and the 
 rather, because he was informed that Themis- 
 tocles was in great reputation and power with the 
 barbarians, and had i romised the king to take 
 the conduct of the Grecian war, whenever he 
 entered upon it. But Themistocles, they te.l us, 
 in despair of managing it to any advantage, and 
 of getting the better of the good fortune and 
 valour of Cimon, fell by his own hand. 
 
 When Cimon had formed these great projects, 
 as a first step towards them, he cast anchor before 
 Cyprus. From thence he sent persons in whom 
 he could confide with a private question to the 
 oracle of Jupiter Ammon : for their errand was 
 entirely unknown. Nor did the deity return 
 them any answer, but immediately upon their 
 arrival ordered them to return, ‘‘ Because Cimon,” 
 said he, “ is already with me.” The mes.sengers, 
 upon this, took the road to the ^ea, and when 
 they reached the Grecian camp, which was then 
 on the coasts of Egypt, they found that Cimon 
 was dead. They then inquired what day he 
 died, and comparing it with the time the oracle 
 was delivered, they perceived that his departure 
 was enigmatically pointed at in the expression — 
 that he was already with the gods. 
 
 According to most authors he died a natural 
 death during the siege of Citium ; but some say 
 he died of a wound he received m an engagement 
 with the barbarians. 
 
 The last advice he gave those about him w^as 
 to sail away immediately, and to conceal his 
 death. Accordingly, before the enemy or their 
 allies knew the real state of the case, they re- 
 turned in safety by the generalship of Cimon, 
 
342 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 exercised, as Phanodeinus says, thirty days after 
 his death. 
 
 After he was gone, there was not one Grecian 
 general who did anything considerable against 
 the barbarians. The leading orators were little 
 better than incendiaries, who set the Greeks one 
 against another, and involved them in intestine 
 wars ; nor was there any healing hand to inter- 
 pose. Thus the king's affairs had time to recover 
 themselves, and inexpressible ruin was brought 
 upon the powers of Greece. Long after this, 
 indeed, Agesilaus carried his arms into Asia, and 
 renewed the war awhile against the king’s lieu- 
 tenants on the coast : but he was so soon recalled 
 by the seditions and tumults which broke out 
 afresh in Greece, that he could do nothing ex- 
 
 traordinary. The Persian taxgatherers were then 
 left amidst the cities in alliance and friendship 
 with the Greeks ; whereas, while Cimon had the 
 command, not a single collector was seen, nor so 
 much as a horseman appeared within 400 furlongs 
 from the sea-coast. 
 
 That his remains were brought to Attica, his 
 monument there is a sufficient proof, for it still 
 bears the title of Cimonia. Nevertheless the 
 people of Citium have a tomb of Cimon, which 
 they hold in great veneration, as Nausicrates the 
 orator informs us ; the gods having ordered them 
 in a certain famine not to disregard his manes, 
 but to honour and worship him as a superior 
 being. Such was this Grecian general. 
 
 LUCULLUS. 
 
 The grandfather of Lucuilus was a man of con- 
 sular dignity; Metellus, surnamed Numidicus, 
 was his uncle by his mother’s side. His father 
 was found guilty of embezzling the pu'blic money, 
 
 I and his mother, Caecilia, had but an indifferent 
 reputation for chastity. As for Lucuilus himself, 
 i while he was but a youth, before he solicited any 
 ' public charge, or attempted to gain a share in 
 ' the administration, he made his tirst appearance 
 ! in impeaching Servilius the augur, who had been 
 j his lather’s accuser. As he had caught Servilius 
 ; in some act of injustice in the execution of his 
 j office, ail ihe world commended the prosecution, 
 
 , and talked of it as an indication of extraordinary 
 I spirit. Indeed, where there was no injury to 
 I revenge, the Romans considered the business of 
 i impeachments as a generous pursuit, and they 
 j chose to have their young men fasten upon 
 ; criminals, like so many well-bred hounds upon 
 ! their prey. 
 
 I The cause was argued with so much vehe- 
 mence, that they came to blows, and several were 
 wounded, and some killed ; in the end, however, 
 Servilius was acquitted. But though Lucuilus 
 lost his cause, he had great command both of the 
 Greek and Latin tongues ; insomuch that Sylla 
 dedicated his Commentaries to him as a person 
 who could reduce the acts and incidents to much 
 better order, and compose a more agreeable his- 
 tory of them, than himself. For his eloquence 
 was not only occasional, or exerted when neces- 
 sity called tor it, like that of other orators who 
 beat about them in the Joru 7 n — 
 
 As sports the vaulting tunny in the main, 
 but when they are out of it. 
 
 Are dry, inelegant, and dead. 
 
 He had applied himself to the sciences called 
 liberal, and was deep in the study of humanity 
 from his youth ; and in his age he withdrew from 
 public labours, of which he had had a great 
 share, to repose himself in the bosom of philo- 
 sophy, and to enjoy the speculations she sug- 
 gested ; bidding a timely adieu to ambition after 
 his difference with Ponipey. To what we have 
 said of his ingenuity and skill in languages, the 
 following story may be added. While he was 
 but a youth, as he was jesting one day with Hor- 
 tensius the orator, and Sisenna the historian, he 
 undertook to write a short history of the Marsi, 
 either in Greek or Latin verse, as the lot should 
 
 fall. They took him at his word, and, according 
 to the lot, it was to be in Greek. That history of 
 his is still extant. 
 
 Among the many proofs of his affection for his 
 brother Marcus, the Romans speak most of the 
 first. Though he was much older than Marcus, 
 he would not accept any office without him, but 
 waited his time. This was so agreeable to the 
 people, that in his absence they created him 
 aedile along with his brother. 
 
 Though he was but a stripling at the time of 
 the Marsian war, there appeared many instances 
 of his courage and understanding. But Sylla’s 
 attachment to him was principally owing to his 
 constancy and mildness. On this account he 
 made use of his services from first to last in his 
 most important affairs. Amongst other things, 
 he gave him the direction of the mint. It was 
 he who coined most of Sylla’s money in Pelo- 
 ponnesus, during the Mithridatic war. From 
 him it was called Lucullia ; and it continued to 
 be chiefly in use for the occasions of the army, 
 for the goodness of it made it pass with ease. 
 
 _ Some^ time after this, Sylla engaged in the 
 siege ot Athens ; and though he was victorious 
 by land, the super! rity of the enemy at sea 
 straitened him for provisions. For this reason he 
 despatched Lucuilus into Egypt and Libya, to 
 procure him a supply of ships. It was then the 
 depth of winter ; yet he scrupled not to sail with 
 three small Greek brigantines and as many small 
 Rhodian galleys, which were to meet strong seas, 
 and a number of the enemy’s ships which kept 
 watch on all sides, because their strength lay 
 there. In spite of this opposition he reached 
 Crete, and brought it over to Sylla’s interest. 
 
 From thence he passed to Cyrene, where he 
 delivered the people from the tyrants and civil 
 wars with which they had been harassed, and re- 
 established their constitution. In this he availed 
 him.self of a saying of Plato, who, when he was 
 desired to give them a body of laws, and to 
 settle their government upon rational principles, 
 gave them this oracular answer : “ It is very diffi- 
 cult to give laws to so prosperous a people.” In 
 fact nothing is harder to govern than man when 
 fortune smiles, nor anything more tractable than 
 he when calamity lays her hands upon him. 
 Hence it was that Lucuilus found the Cyrenians 
 so pliant and submissive to his regulations. 
 
 From Cyrene he sailed to Egypt, but was 
 
LUCULLUS, 
 
 343 
 
 attacked by pirates on his way, and lost most of 
 the vessels he had collected. He himself escaped, 
 and entered the port of Alexandria in a magnifi- 
 cent manner, being conducted in by the whole 
 Egyptian fleet set off to the best advantage, as it 
 used to be when it attended the king in person. 
 Ptolemy,* who was but a youth, received him 
 with all demonstrations of respect, and even 
 lodged and provided him a table in his own 
 palace ; an honour which had not been granted 
 before to any foreign commander. Nor was the 
 allowance for his expenses the same which others 
 had, but four times as much, Lucullus, how- 
 ever, took no more than was absolutely neces- 
 sary, and re used the king’s presents, though he 
 was offered no less than the value of eighty 
 talents. It is said, he neither visited Memphis, 
 nor any other of the celebrated wonders of 
 Egypt ; thinking it rather the business of a person 
 who has time, and only travels for pleasure, than 
 of him who had left his general engaged in a siege 
 and encamped before the enemy’s fortifications. 
 
 Ptolemy refused to enter into alliance with 
 Syda for fear of bringing war upon himself, but 
 he gave Lucullus a convoy to escort him to 
 Cyprus, embraced him at parting, and respect- 
 fully offered him a rich emerald set in gold. 
 Lucullus at first declined it, but upon the king’s 
 showing him his own picture engraved on it, he 
 was afraid to refuse it, lest he should be thought 
 to go away with hostile intentions, and in con- 
 sequence have some fatal .scheme formed against 
 him at sea. 
 
 In his return he collected a number of ships 
 fi-oin the maritime towns, excepting those that 
 had given shelter and protection to pirates, and 
 with this fleet he passed over to Cyprus. There 
 he found that the enemy’s ships lay in wait for 
 him under some point of land ; and therefore he 
 laid up his fleet, and wrote to the cities to provide 
 him quarters and all necessaries, as if he intended 
 to pass the winter there. But as soon as the 
 wind served, he immediately launched again, 
 and proceeded on his voyage, lowering his sails 
 in the day-time, and hoisting them again when it 
 grew dark ; by which stratagem he got safe to 
 Rhodes. There he got a fresh supply of ships, 
 and found means to persuade the people of Cos 
 and Cnidus to quit Mithridates, and join him 
 against the Samians. With his own forces he 
 drove the king’s troops out of Chios ; took Epi- 
 gonus, the Colophonian tyrant, prisoner, and set 
 the people free. 
 
 At this time Mithridates was forced to abandon 
 Rergamus, and had retired to Pitana. As Fim- 
 bria shut hirn up by land, he cast his eyes upon 
 Uie sea, and in despair of facing in the field that 
 bOid and victorious officer, collected his ships 
 from all quarters. Fimbria saw this, but was 
 sensible of his want of naval strength, and there- 
 fore sent to entreat Lucullus to come with his 
 fleet, and assist him in taking a king, who was 
 t^he most warlike and virulent enemy the Romans 
 had. “ Let not Mithridates,” said he, “ the glo- 
 rious prize which has been sought in so many 
 and conflicts, escape ; as he is fallen into 
 
 Palmerius takes this for Ptolemy Auletes ; 
 
 year before 
 
 ^nri^stbs. It must, therefore, have been Ptolemy 
 Sylla concluded the peace with 
 Mithridates m the year before Christ 82. 
 
 the hands of the Romans, and is already in their 
 net. When he is taken, who will have a greater 
 share in the honour than he who stops his flight, 
 and catches him as he goes? If I shut him up 
 by land, and you do the same by .sea, the palm 
 will be all our own. What value will Rome then 
 set upon the actions of Sylla at Orchomenus and 
 Chxronea, though now so much extolled?” 
 
 1 here was nothing absurd in the proposal. 
 Everybody saw, that if Lucullus, who was at no 
 grea’t distance, had brought up his fleet, and 
 blocked up the harbour, the war would have 
 been at an end, and they would all have been 
 delivered from infinite calamities. But whether 
 It was that he preferred his fidelity, as Sylla’s 
 lieutenant, to his own inteiest and that of the 
 public ; whether he abhorred Fimbria, as a 
 villain whose ambition had lately led him to 
 murder his general and his friend ; or whether 
 by .some ovenuling influence of fortune he re- 
 served Mithridates for his own antagonist he 
 absolutely rejected the proposal. He suffered 
 mm to get out of the harbour, and to laugh at 
 b imbria s land forces. 
 
 After this he had the honour of beating the 
 king’s fleet twice. The finst time was at Lectum 
 a promontory of Troas ; the second at Tenedos, 
 where he saw Neoptolemus at anchor with a 
 more considerable force. Upon this, Lucullus 
 advanced before the rest of the ships, in a 
 Rhodian galley of five banks of oars, com- 
 manded by Demagoras, a man very faithful to 
 the Romans, and experienced in naval affairs. 
 Neoptolemus met him v/ith great fury, and 
 ordered the master of his ship to strike against 
 that of Lucullus. But Demagoras fearing the 
 weight of the admiral’s galley, and the shock of 
 Its brazen beak, thought it dangerous to meet 
 him ahead. He therefore tacked about, and 
 received him astern, in which place he received 
 no great damage, because the stroke was upon 
 the lower parts of the ship, which were under 
 water. In the mean time, the rest of his fleet 
 coming up, Lucullus ordered his own ship to 
 tack again, fell upon the enemy, and after many 
 gallant actions, put them to flight, and pursued 
 Neoptolemus for some time. 
 
 This done, he went to meet Sylla, who was 
 going to cross the sea from the Chersonesus. 
 Here he secured the passage, and helped to 
 transport his army. When the peace was agreed 
 upon,* Mithridates sailed into the Euxine sea, 
 and Sylla laid a fine upon Asia of 20,000 talents. 
 Lucullus was commissioned to collect the tax 
 and to coin the money ; and it was some consola- 
 tion to the cities, amidst the severity of Sylla, 
 that Lucullus acted not only with the utmost 
 justice, but with all the lenity that so difficult 
 and odious a charge would admit of. 
 
 As the Mityleneans had openly revolted, he 
 wanted to bring them to acknowledge their fault, 
 and pay a moderate fine for having joined 
 Marius’s party. But, led by their ill genius, they 
 continued obstinate. Upon this he went against 
 them with his fleet, beat them in a great battle 
 and shut them up within their walls. Some days 
 after he had begun the siege, he had recourse to 
 ^is stratagem. In open day he set .sail towards 
 Elea, but returned privately at night, and lay 
 
 * This peace was concluded in the year of 
 Rome 669, eight years before the death of Sylla. 
 
344 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 close near the city. The ^litj’^leneans then sally- 
 ing out in a bold and disorderly manner to 
 plunder his camp, which they thought he had 
 I abandoned, he fell upon them, tool: most of them 
 prisoners, and killed 500 who stood upon their 
 defence. Here he got 6000 slaves, and an im- 
 mense quantity of other spoil. 
 
 He had no hand in the various and unspeakable 
 evils which Sylla and Marius brought upon 
 Italy ; for by the favour of providence he ,was 
 engaged in the affairs of Asia. Yet none of 
 Sylla’s friends had greater interest with him. 
 Sylla, as we have said, out of particular regard, 
 dedicated his Commentaries to him ; and passing 
 Pompey by, in his last will constituted him guar- 
 dian to his son. This seems to have first occa- 
 sionea those differences and that jealousy which 
 subsisted between Pompey and Lucullus, both 
 young men, and full of ardour in the pursuit of 
 glory. 
 
 A little after the death of Sylla, Lucullus was 
 chosen consul along with Marcus Cotta, about 
 the hundred and seventy-sixth olympiad. At 
 this time many proposed to renew the war with 
 Mithridates, and Cotta himself said, the fire was 
 not extinguished, it only slept in embers. Lu- 
 cullus, therefore, was much concerned at having 
 the Cisalpine Gaul allotted as his province, which 
 promised him no opportunity to distinguish him- 
 self. But the honour Pompey had acquired in 
 Spain gave him most trouble ; because that 
 general’s superior reputation, he clearly saw, 
 after the Spanish war was ended, would entitle 
 him to the command against Mithridates. Hence 
 it was, that when Pompey applied for money, 
 and informed the government, that if he was not 
 supplied, he must leave Spain and Sertorius, and 
 bring his forces back to Italy, Lucullus readily 
 exerted himself to procure the supplies, and to 
 prevent his returning upon any pretext whatever 
 during his consulship. He l^ew that every 
 measure at home would be under Pompey’s 
 direction, if he came with such an army. For, 
 at this very time, the tribune Cethegus, who had 
 the lead, because he consulted nothing but the 
 humour of the people, was at emnity with Lu- 
 cullus, on account of his detesting that tribune’s 
 file, polluted as it was with infamous amours, in- 
 solence, and every species of profligacy. Against 
 this man he declared open war. Lucius Quintius, 
 another tribune, wanted to annul the acts of 
 Sylla, and to disorder the whole face of affairs, 
 wnich was now tolerably composed. But Lu- 
 cullus, by private representations and public 
 remonstrances, drew him from his purpose, and 
 restrained his ambition. Thus, in the most polite 
 and salutary way imaginable, he destroyed the 
 seeds of a very dangerous disease. 
 
 About this time news was brought of the death 
 of Octavius, governor of Cilicia. There were 
 many competitors for that province, and they 
 all paid their court to Cethegus, as the person 
 most likely to procure it for them. Lucullus set 
 no great value upon that government ; but as it 
 was near Cappadocia, he concluded, if he could 
 obtain it, that the Romans would not think of 
 emplojung any other general against Mithridates. 
 For this reason he exerted all his art to secure 
 the province to himself. At last he was neces- 
 sitated, against the bent of his disposition, to 
 . in to a measure which was deemed indirect 
 and illiberal, but very conducive to his purpose. 
 
 There was a woman then in Rome named 
 PrtEcia, famed for beauty and enchanting wit, 
 but in other respects no better than a common 
 prostitute. By applying her interest with those 
 who frequented her house and were fond of her 
 company, to serve her friends in the administra- 
 tion and in other affairs, she added to her other 
 accomplishments the reputation of being a useful 
 friend and a woman of business. This exalted 
 her not a little. But when she had captivated 
 Cethegus, who was then in the height of his 
 glory and carried all before him in Rome, the 
 whole power fell into her hands. Nothing was 
 done without the favour of Cethegus, nor by 
 Cethegus without the consent of Prsecia. To her 
 Lucullus applied by presents and the most in- 
 sinuating compliments ; nor could anything have 
 been more acceptable to a vain and pompous 
 woman, than to see herself flattered and courted 
 by such a man as Lucullus. The consequence was, 
 that Cethegus immediately espoused his cause, and 
 solicited tor him the province of Cilicia. When 
 he had gained this, he had no farther need either 
 of Praecia or Cethegus. All came into his in- 
 terest, and with one voice gave him the command 
 in the Mithridatic war. He indeed could not but 
 be considered as the fittest person for that charge, 
 because Pompey was engaged with Sertorius, 
 and Metellus had given up his pretensions on 
 account of his great age ; and these were the 
 only persons who could stand in competition for 
 it with Lucullus. However, his colleague Cotta, 
 by much application, prevailed upon the senate 
 to send him with a fleet to guard the Propontis, 
 and to protect Bithynia. 
 
 Lucullus, with a legion now levied in Italy, 
 passed over into Asia, where he found the rest 
 ot the troops that were to compose his army. 
 These had all been long entirely corrupted by 
 luxury and avarice ; and that part of them called 
 Fimbrians was more untractable than the rest, 
 on account of their having been under no com- 
 niand. At the instigation of Fimbria they had 
 killed Flaccus, who was consul and their general 
 too, and had betrayed Fimbria himself to Sylla ;• 
 and they were still mutinous and lawless men, 
 though in other respects brave, hardy, and ex- 
 perienced soldiers. Nevertheless, Lucullus in a 
 little time subdued the seditious spirit of these 
 men, and corrected the faults of the rest : so that 
 now they first found a real commander, whereas 
 before they had been brought to serve by in- 
 dulgence and every promi.se of pleasure. 
 
 The affairs of the enemy were in this posture. 
 Mithridates, like a sophistical warrior, had for- 
 merly met the Romans in a vain and ostentatious 
 manner, with fore s that were showy and pompous 
 indeed, but of little use. Baffled and disgraced 
 in his attempt, he grew wiser, and therefore in 
 this second war he provided troops that were 
 capable of real service. He retrenched that mi.xed 
 multitude ot nations, and those bravadoes that 
 were issued from his camp in a barbarous variety 
 of language, together with the rich arms adorned 
 with gold and precious stones, which he now 
 considered rather as the spoils of the conqueror 
 than as adding any vigour to the men that wore 
 them. Instead of this, he armed them with swords 
 in the Roman fashion, and with large and heavy 
 shields ; and his cavalry he provided with horses 
 rather well-trained than gaily accoutred. His 
 infantry consisted of 120,000, and his cavalry 
 
LUCULLUS. 
 
 345 
 
 of 16,000, besides armed chariots to the number 
 of 100. His navy was not equipped, as before, 
 with gilded pavilions, baths, and delicious apart- 
 ments for the women, but with all manner of 
 weapons offensive and defensive, and money to 
 pay the troops. 
 
 In this respectable form he invaded Bithynia, 
 where the cities received him with pleasure ; and 
 not only that country, but all Asia returned to 
 its former distempered inclinations, by reason of 
 the intolerable evils that the Roman usurers and 
 tax-gatherers had brought upon them. These 
 Lucullus afterwards drove away, like so many 
 harpies which robbed the poor inhabitants of 
 their food. At present he was satisfied with 
 reprimanding them, and bringing them to exercise 
 their office with more moderation ; by which 
 means he kept the Asiatics from rev'olting, when 
 their inclination lay almost universally that 
 way. 
 
 While Lucullus was employed in these matters. 
 Cotta, thinking he had found his opportunity, 
 prepared to give Mithridates battle. And as he 
 had accounts from many hands, that Lucullus 
 was coming up, and was already encamped in 
 Phrygia, he did everything to expedite the en- 
 gagement, in order to prevent Lucullus from 
 having any share in the triumph, which he be- 
 lieved was now all his own. He was defeated, 
 however, both by sea and land, with the loss of 
 sixty ships and all their crews, as well as 4000 
 land forces; after which he was shut up in 
 Chalcedon, and had no resource except in the 
 assistance of Lucullus. Lucullus was advised, 
 notwithstanding, to take no notice of Cotta, but 
 to march forward into the kingdom of Mithri- 
 dates, which he would find in a defenceless state. 
 On this occasion the soldiers were loudest in trieir 
 complaints. They repre.sented that Cotta had, 
 by his rash counsels, not only ruined himself and 
 his own men, but done them too great prejudice ; 
 since, had it not been for his error, they might 
 have conquered without loss. But Lucullus, in 
 a set speech upon this subject, told them, he 
 had rather deliver one Roman out of the enemy’s 
 hand, than take all the enemy had. And when 
 Archelaus, who formerly had commanded the 
 king s forces in Boeotia, but now was come over 
 to the Romans and fought for them, a.sserted that 
 if Lucullus would but once make his appearance 
 in Pontus, all would immediately fall before him ; 
 he said he would not act in a more coward y 
 manner than hunters, nor pass the wild beasts by, 
 and go to their empty dens. He had no sooner 
 uttered these words, than he marched against 
 with 30,000 foot, and 2500 horse. 
 
 ^ When he got sight of the enemy, he was aston- 
 ished at their numbers, and determined to avoid 
 a battle and gain time. But Marius,* a Roman 
 officer, whom Sertorius had sent to Mithridates 
 out of Spain with some troops, advanced to meet 
 Lucullus, and gave him the challenge. Lucullus 
 ^cepted it, and put his army in order of battle, 
 ine signal was just ready to be given, when, 
 without any visible alteration, there was a sudden 
 explosion in the air, and a large luminous body 
 was seen to fall between the two armies ; its 
 form was like that of a large tun, and its colour 
 silver. Both sides were so affected 
 witn the phenomenon, that they parted without 
 
 * Appian calls him Varius. 
 
 striking a blow. This prodigy is said to have 
 happened in Phrygia at a place called Otryae. 
 
 that no human supplies 
 could be sufficient to maintain so many myriads 
 as Mithridates had, for any length of time, 
 especially in presence of an enemy, ordered one 
 of the prisoners to be brought before him. The 
 first question he put to him was, how many there 
 were in his mess, and the second, what provisions 
 he had left in his tent. When he had this man’s 
 answer, he commanded him to withdraw; and 
 then examined a second and third in like manner. 
 The next thing was to compare the quantity of 
 provisions, which Mithridates had laid in, with 
 the number of soldiers he had to support ; by 
 which he found that in three or four days they 
 would be in want of bread-corn. This confirmed 
 him in his design of gaining time ; and he caused 
 great plenty of provisions to be brought into his 
 own camp, that in the midst of abundance he 
 might watch the enemy’s distress. 
 
 Notwithstanding this, Mithridates formed a 
 design against the Cyzicenians, who were beaten 
 in the late battle near Chalcedon,* and had lost 
 3000 men and ten ships. To deceive Lucullus, 
 he decamped soon after supper, one dark tem- 
 pestuous night ; and marched with so much ex- 
 pedition, that at break of day he got before the 
 town, and posted himself upon Mount Adrastia.f 
 As soon as Lucullus perceived he w'as gone, lie 
 followed his steps : and without falling unawares 
 upon the enemy in the obscurity of the night, as 
 he niight easily have done, he reached the place 
 of his destination, and sat down at a village called 
 Thraceia, the most commodious situation imagin- 
 able for guarding the roads and cutting oflf the 
 enemy’s convoys. 
 
 He was now so sure of his aim that he concealed 
 It no longer from his men; but when they had 
 intrenched themselves, and returned from their 
 labour, called them together, and told them with 
 great triumph, in a few days he would gain them 
 a victory which should not cost one drop of blood. 
 
 Mithridates bad planted his troops in ten dif- 
 ferent posts about the city, and with his vessels 
 blocked up the frith which parts it from the con- 
 tinent, J so that it was invested on all sides. The 
 Cyzicenians were prepared to combat the greatest 
 difficulties, and to suff^er the last extremities in the 
 Roman cause ; but they knew not where Lucullus 
 was, and were much concerned that they couid 
 get no account of him. Though his camp was 
 visible enough, the enemy had the art to impose 
 upon them. Pointing to the Romans who were 
 posted on the heights, “ Do you see that army ?” 
 said they ; “ those are the Armenians and Medes, 
 whom 'I'igranes has sent as a reinforcement to 
 Mithridates.” Surrounded by such an immense 
 number of enemies, as they thought, and having 
 no hope of relief but from the arrival oi Lucullus^ 
 they were in the utmost consternation. * 
 
 When Demonax, whom Archelaus found means 
 
 * Along with Cotta. 
 
 t So called from a temple in the city consecrated 
 by Adrastus to the goddess Nemesis, who from 
 thence had the name of Adrastia. 
 
 X Strabo .says, Cyzicus lies upon the Propontis, 
 and is an island joined to the continent by two 
 bridges ; near w'hich is a city of the same name, 
 with two harbours capable of containing 200 
 vessels. Str.xb. 1. xii. 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 346 
 
 to send into the town,* * brought them news that 
 Lucullus was arrived, at first they could hardly 
 believe it, imagining he came only with a feigned 
 story, to encourage them to bear up in their 
 resent distress. However, the same moment, a 
 oy made his appearance, who had been a 
 prisoner among the enemy, and had just made his 
 escape. Upon their asking him where Lucullus 
 was, he laughed, thinking them only in jest ; but 
 when he saw they were in earnest, he pointed 
 with his finger to the Roman camp. This suffi- 
 ciently revived their drooping spirits. 
 
 In the lake Dascy litis, near Cyzicus,- there were 
 vessels of a considerable size. Lucullus hauled 
 up the largest of them, put it upon a carriage, 
 and drew it down to the sea. Then he put on 
 board it as many soldiers as it could contain, and 
 ordered them to get into Cyzicus, which they 
 effected in the night. 
 
 It seems too that Heaven, delighted with the 
 valour of the Cyzicenians, supported them with 
 several remarkable signs. The feast of Proserpine 
 was come, when they were to sacrifice a black 
 heifer to her ; and as they had no living animal 
 of that kind, they made one of paste,! and were 
 approaching the altar with it. The victim, bred 
 for that purpose, pastured with the rest of their 
 cattle on the other side of the frith. On that very 
 day she parted from the herd, swam alone to the 
 town, and presented herself before the altar. The 
 same goddess appeared to Aristagoras, the public 
 secretary, in a dream, and said, “ Go and tell your 
 fellow-citizens to take courage, for I shall bring 
 the African piper against the trumpeter of Pontus.” 
 
 While the Cizycenians were wondering at this 
 oracular expression, in the morning a strong wind 
 blew, and the sea was in the utmost agitation. 
 The king’s machines erected against the walls, the 
 wonderful work of Niconidus the Thessalian, by 
 the noise and cracking first announced what was 
 to come. Then a south wind incredibly violent 
 arose, and in the short space of an hour broke all 
 the engines to pieces, and destroyed the wooden 
 tower which was 100 cubits high. It is more- 
 over related, that Minerva was seen by many at 
 Ilium in their sleep, all covered with sweat, and 
 with part of her veil rent ; and that she said, she 
 was just come from assisting the people of Cyzicus. 
 _Nay, they showed at Ilium a pillar which had an 
 inscription to that purpose. 
 
 As long as Mithridates was deceived by his 
 officers, and kept in ignorance of the famine that 
 prevailed in the camp, he lamented his miscarriage 
 in the siege. But when he came to be sensible of 
 the extremity to which his soldiers were reduced, 
 and that they were forced even to eat human 
 flesh,! all his ambition and spirit of contention 
 
 * By the assistance of bladders he swam into 
 the town. Florus, 1 . hi. 
 
 t The Pythagoreans, who thought it unlawful 
 to kill any animal, seem to have been the first 
 among the Greeks who offered the figures of 
 animals in paste, myrrh, or some other composi- 
 tion. The poorer sort of Egyptians are said to 
 have done the same from another principle. 
 
 X There is something extremely improbable in 
 this. It does not appear that Mithridates was so 
 totally blocked up by Lucullus as to reduce him 
 to this extremity : and even had that been the 
 case, it would certainly have been more eligible to 
 have risked a battle, than to have submitted to 
 
 died away. He found Lucullus did not make war 
 in a theatrical ostentatious manner, but aimed his 
 blows at his very heart, and left nothing unat- 
 tempted to deprive him of provisions. He there- 
 fore seized his opportunity while the Romans 
 were attacking a certain fort, to send off almost 
 all his cavalry and his beasts of burden, as well 
 as the least useful part of his infantry, into 
 Bithynia. 
 
 When Lucullus was apprized of their departure, 
 he retired during the night into his camp. Next 
 morning there was a violent storm ; nevertheless 
 he began the pursuit with ten cohorts of foot, 
 beside his cavalry. All the way he was greatly 
 incommoded by the snow, and the cold was so 
 piercing that several of his soldiers sunk under 
 it, and were forced to stop. With the rest he 
 overtook the enemy at the river Rhyndacus, and 
 made such havoc among them, that the women 
 of Apollonia came out to plunder the convoys 
 and to strip the slain. 
 
 I'he slain, as may well be imagined, were very 
 numerous, and Lucullus made 15,000 prisoners ; 
 besides which, he took 6000 horses and an infinite 
 number of beasts of burden. And he made it his 
 business to lead them all by the enemy’s camp. 
 
 I cannot help wondering at Sallust’s saying, 
 that this was the first time that the Romans saw 
 a camel.* How could he think that those who 
 formerly under Scipio conquered Antiochus, and 
 lately defeated Archelaus at Orchomenus and 
 Chaeronea, should be unacquainted with that 
 animal? 
 
 Mithridates now resolved upon a speedy flight; 
 and to amuse Lucullus with employment in 
 another quarter, he sent his admiral Aristonicus 
 to the Grecian sea. But just as he was on the 
 point of sailing, he was betrayed to Lucullus, 
 together with io,®oo pieces of gold, which he 
 took with him to corrupt some part of the Roman 
 forces. After this, Mithridates made his escape 
 by sea, and left his generals to get off with the 
 army in the best manner they could. Lucullus 
 coming up with them at the river Granicus, killed 
 full 20,000, and made a prodigious number of 
 prisoners. It is said that in this campaign the 
 enemy lost near 300,000 men, reckoning the ser- 
 vants of the army as well as soldiers. 
 
 Lucullus immediately entered Cyzicum, where 
 he was received with every testimony of joy and 
 respect. After which he went to the Hellespont, 
 to collect ships to make up a fleet. On this occa- 
 sion he touched at Troas, and slept there in the 
 temple of Venus. The goddess, he dreamed, 
 stood by him, and addressed him as follows : 
 
 Dost thou then sleep, great monarch of the woods? 
 The fawns are rustling near thee. 
 
 Upon this he rose, and calling his friends to- 
 gether while it was yet dark, related to them the 
 
 the dreadful alternative here mentioned. But 
 wherefore eat human flesh, when afterwards we 
 are expressly told that they had beasts to send 
 away ? There is, to the best of our knowlege and 
 belief, as little foundation in history for this 
 practice, as there is in nature. 
 
 * Livy expressly tells us, there were camels in 
 Antiochus’s army. “ Before the cavalry were 
 placed the chariots armed with scythes, and 
 camels of that species called dromedaries. ” Liv. 
 lib. xxxvii. c. 40. 
 
LUCULLUS. 
 
 vision. He had hardly made an end, when mes- 
 sengers arrived from Ilium, with an account that 
 they had !^en off the Grecian harbour * thirteen 
 of the king’s large galleys steering towards 
 Lemnos. He went in pursuit of them without 
 losing a moment, took them, and killed their 
 admiral Isidorus. When this was done, he made 
 all the sail he could after some others which were 
 before. These lay at anchor by the island ; and 
 as soon as the officers perceived his approach, 
 they hauled the ships ashore, and fighting from 
 ^e decks, galled the Romans exceedingly. The 
 Romans had no chance to surround them ; nor 
 could their galleys, which were by the waves 
 kept in continual motion, make any impression 
 upon those of the enemy, which were on firm 
 ground, and stood immovable. At last, having 
 with much difficulty found a landing-place, he 
 put some of his troops on shore, who taking them 
 in the rear, killed a number of them, and forced 
 the rest to cut their cables and stand out to sea. 
 In the confusion the vessels dashed one against 
 another, or iell upon the b<aks of those of Lu- 
 cullus. The destruction consequently was great. 
 Manus, the general sent by Sertorius, was among 
 the prisoners. He had but one eye : and Lu- 
 cullus, when he first set sail, had given his men 
 a strict charge not to kill any person with one 
 eye ; in order that he might be reserved for a 
 death of greater torture and disgrace. 
 
 After this, he hastened to pursue Mithridates 
 himself, whom he hoped to find in Bithynia 
 blocked up by Voconius. He had sent this 
 officer before with a fleet to Nicomedia, to pre- 
 vent the king s escape. But Voconius had 
 loitered in Samothrace, about getting himself 
 initiated in the mysteries t and celebrating 
 festivals. Mithridates in the mean time had got 
 out, and was making great efforts to reach Pontus 
 before Lucullus could come to stop him. But a 
 violent tempest overtook him, by which many of 
 his ves^ls were dashed to pieces and many sunk. 
 
 1 he whole shore was covered with the wreck 
 which the sea threw up for several days. As 
 lor the king himself, the ship in which he sailed 
 ihat the pilots could not make land 
 with It amidst such a terrible agitation of the 
 waves and it was by this time ready to founder 
 with the water it had taken in. He therefore got 
 into a shallop belonging to some pirates, and 
 trusting his life to their hands, beyond all hope 
 was brought safe to Heraclea in Pontus, after 
 d^nge^s^^^^ through the most unspeakable 
 
 In this war Lucullus behaved to the senate of 
 Rome with an honest pride, which had its suc- 
 decreed him 3000 talents to 
 
 them he acquainted 
 
 them by letters, that he had no need of the money. 
 
 P ?^“ta*-ch means the harbour where the 
 Grecians landed when they were going to the 
 siege of 1 roy. ** 
 
 •vI. of the Cabin. The worship of 
 
 * 1 ^ probably brought from Phoenicia : 
 powerfiir language of that country signifies 
 ' reverenced as the most 
 
 becauM of^h’‘^ superior beings ; the more so, 
 
 ui ineir Worship. Some have pretended to eive 
 
 locked tm^nTh®^ though they were 
 
 locKea up m the profoundest secrecy. 
 
 and boasted that, without so much expense and 
 such mighty preparations, he would drive Mithri- 
 dates out of the sea with the ships the allies 
 would give him. And he performed his promise 
 by the assistance of a superior power. For the 
 tempest, which ruined the Pontic fleet, is said to 
 have been raised by the resentment of Diana of 
 Priapus, for their plundering her temple and 
 beating down her statue. 
 
 Lucullus was now advised by many of his 
 officers to let the war sleep a while ; but, without 
 regarding their opinion, he penetrated into the 
 Icingdom of Pontus, by way of Bithynia and 
 Galatia. At first he found provisions so scarce, 
 t^hat he was forced to have 30,000 Gauls follow 
 him, with each a measure* of wheat upon his 
 shoulders. But as he proceeded further in his 
 march, and bore down all opposition, he came to 
 such plenty, that an ox was sold for one drachma, 
 a.ncl a slave for four. Phe rest of the booty was 
 so little regarded, that some left it behind them, 
 and others destroyed it : for, amidst such abun- 
 dance, they could not find a purchaser. Having, 
 in the excursions of their cavalry, laid waste all 
 the country as far as Themiscyrae and about the 
 river Thermadon, they complained that Lucullus 
 took all the towns by capitulation, instead of 
 storrn, and gave not up one to the soldiers for 
 plunder. Now, said they, “you leave Amisus, 
 a rich and flourishing city, which might be easily 
 taken, if you would assault it vigorously ; and 
 drag us after Mithridates into the wastes of 
 Libarene and Chaldsea.” 
 
 Lucullus, however, not thinking they would 
 break cut into that rage which afterwards ap- 
 peared, neglected their remonstrances. He took 
 more pains to excuse himself to those who 
 blamed his slow progress, and his losing time 
 in reducing towns and villages of little con- 
 sequence, ^while Mithridates was again gatherin'^' 
 power. “Ihis is the ve^ thing,” said h^ 
 in all my operations, 
 that Mithridates may get strength, and collect 
 an army re.spectable enough to make him stand 
 an engagement, and not continue to fly before 
 us. Do not you see what vast and boundless 
 de.serts he behind him? Is not Caucasus, with 
 all Its immense train of mountains at hand, 
 sufficient to hide him and numberless other kings 
 who wish to avoid a battle? It is but a few days’ 
 journey from the country of the Cabiri f into 
 Armenia, where ligranes, king of kings, is 
 seated, surrounded with that power which has 
 wrested Asia from the Parthians, which carries 
 Grecian colonies into Media, subdues Syria and 
 Pale.stine, cuts off the Seleucidae, and carries 
 their wives and daughters into captivity. This 
 prince is nearly allied to Mithridates; he is his 
 son-in-law. Do you think he will disregard him, 
 when he comes as a suppliant, and not take up 
 arms in his cau.se? why will you then be in such 
 haste to drive Mithridates out of his dominions, 
 and nsk the bringing I’igranes upon us, who has 
 long wanted a pretence for it ? And surely he 
 
 • Medimnus. 
 
 t Hence it appears, as well as from a passage 
 there was a district on the borders 
 of Phrygia called Cabiri. Indeed the worship 
 of those gods had prevailed in several parts of 
 Asia, pd they are supposed to have had homage 
 paid them at Rome under the title of Divi Potes, 
 
348 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 cannot find a more specious one than that of 
 succouring a father-in-law, and a king reduced 
 to such extreme necessity. What need is there 
 then for us to ripen this affair, and to teach 
 Mithridates what he may not know, who are the 
 confederates he is to seek against us ; or to drive 
 him, against his inclination and his notions of 
 honour, into the arms of Tigranes? Is it not 
 better to give him time to make preparations 
 and regain strength in his own territories, that 
 we may have to meet the Colchians, the Tiba- 
 renians and Cappadocians, whom we have often 
 beaten, rather than the unknown forces of the 
 Medes and the Armenians?” 
 
 Agreeably to these sentiments, Lucullus spent 
 a great deal of time before Ainisus, proceeding 
 very slowly in the siege. After the winter was 
 passed, he left that charge to Murena, and 
 m.arched against Mithridates, who was encamped 
 on the plains of the Cabiri, with a resolution to 
 wait for the Romans there. His arrny consisted 
 of 40,000 foot and 4000 horse, which he had 
 lately collected ; and in these he placed the 
 greatest confidence. Nay, he passed the river 
 Lycus, and gave the Romans the challenge to 
 meet him in the field. In consequence of this, 
 the cavalry engaged, and the Romans were put 
 to the rout. Pomponius, a man of some dignity, 
 was wounded and taken. T! hough much indis- 
 posed with his wounds, he was brought before 
 Mithridates, who asked him whether, if he 
 saved his life, he would become his friend. 
 “On condition you will be reconciled to the 
 Romans,” said he, “ I will ! but if not, I must 
 remain your enemy.” The king, struck with 
 admiration of his patriotism, did him no injury. 
 
 Lucullus was apprehensive of farther danger 
 on the plain, on account of the enemy’s supe- 
 riority in horse, and 3'et he was loath to take to 
 the mountains, which were at a considerable 
 distance, as well as woody and difficult of ascent. 
 While he was in this perplexity, some Greeks 
 happened to be taken, who had hid themselves 
 in a cave. Artemidorus, the eldest of them, 
 undertook to conduct him to a post where he 
 might encamp in the utmost security, and where 
 there stood a castle which commanded the plain 
 of the Cabiri. Lucullus gave credit to his re- 
 port, and began his march in the night, after he 
 had caused a number of fires to be lighted in his 
 old camp. Having got safely through the narrow 
 passes he gained the heights, and in the rnorning 
 appeared above the enemy’s heads, in a situation 
 where he might fight with advantage, when he 
 chose it, and might not be compelled to it, if he 
 had a mind to sit still. 
 
 At present neither Lucullus nor Mithridates 
 was inclined to risk a battle : but some of the 
 king’s soldiers happening to pursue a deer, a 
 party of Romans went out to intercept them. 
 This brought on a sharp skirmish, numbers con- 
 tinually coming up on each side. At length the 
 king’s troops had the advantage. 
 
 The Romans, beholding from the camp the 
 flight of their fellow-soldiers, were greatly dis- 
 turbed, and ran to Lucullus, to entreat him to 
 lead them out ; and give the signal for battle. 
 But he, willing to show them of how much im- 
 portance, in all dangerous conflicts, the presence 
 of an able general is, ordered them to_ stand 
 still ; and descending into the plain himself, 
 seized the foremost of the fugitives, and com- 
 
 manded them to face about. They obeyed, and 
 the rest rallying with them, they easily put the 
 enemy to flight, and pursued them to their in- 
 trenchments. Lucullus, at his return, inflicted 
 on the fugitives the usual punishment. He made 
 them strip to their vests, take off their girdle.s, 
 and then dig a trench twelve feet long ; the rest 
 of the troops all the while standing and looking 
 on. 
 
 In the army of Mithridates there was a Dar- 
 darian grandee named Olthacus. The Darda- 
 rians are some of those barbarous people who live 
 near the lake Maeotis. Olthacus was a man fit 
 for every warlike attempt that required strength 
 and courage, and in counsel and contrivance 
 inferior to none. Beside these acconiplishments, 
 he was affable, easy, and agreeable in the com- 
 merce of the world. He was always involved 
 in some dispute, or jealousy at least, of the other 
 great men of his country, who, like him, aimed 
 at the chief authority in it ; and to bring Mith- 
 ridates into his interest, he undertook the daring 
 enterprise of killing Lucullus. Mithridates com- 
 mended his design, and publicly gave him some 
 affronts, to afford him a pretence for resentment. 
 Olthacus laid hold on it and rode off to Lucullus, 
 who received him with pleasure. For his repu- 
 tation was well known in the camp ; and, upon 
 trial, the Roman general found his presence of 
 mind and his address so extraordinary, that he 
 took him to his table and his council-board. 
 
 When the Dardarian thought he had found his 
 opportunity, he ordered his servants to have his 
 horse ready without the camp. _ It was now mid- 
 day, and the soldiers were sitting in the sun or 
 otherwise reposing themselves, when he went to 
 the general’s pavilion ; expecting that none would 
 pretend to hinder the admission of a man who 
 was intimate with Lucullus, and who said he had 
 business of importance to communicate. And he 
 had certainly entered, if sleep, which has been 
 the ruin of many other generals, had not saved 
 Lucullus. Menedemus, one of his chamberlains, 
 was then in waiting, and he told Olthacus. this 
 was not a proper time to see Lucullus, because 
 after long watching and fatigue he was now 
 taking some rest. Olthacus did not take this 
 denial ; but said, “ I must enter, whether you 
 will or not, for I have great and necessary busi- 
 ness to lay before him.” Menedemus, incensed 
 at his insolence, answered, “ Nothing is more 
 necessary than the preservation of Lucullus,” 
 and thrust him back with both hands. Olthacus, 
 fearing his design was discovered, withdrew 
 privately from the camp, took hor.se, and _ re- 
 turned to Mithridates without effecting anything. 
 Thus the crisis in other matters, as well as in 
 medicine, either saves or destroys. 
 
 After this, Sornatius was sent out with ten 
 cohorts to escort a convoy. Mithridates de- 
 tached against him one of his officers named 
 Menander. An engagement ensued, and the bar- 
 barians were routed with great loss. Another 
 time, Lucullus despatched Adrian with a con- 
 siderable corps, to protect the party employed 
 in collecting provisions and supplying his camp. 
 Mithridates did not let him pass unnoticed, but 
 sent Menemachus and Myron against them, with 
 a strong body of cavalry and another of infantry. 
 All these combatants, except two, the Romans 
 put to the sword. Mithridates dissembled his 
 loss, pretending it was small, and entirely owing 
 
LUCULLUS. 
 
 349 
 
 to the misconduct of the commanding officers. 
 But when Adrian passed by his camp in great 
 pomp, with many waggons loaded with provi- 
 sions and rich spoils in his train, the king’s 
 spirits began to droop, and the most distressing 
 terror fell upon his army. They determined, 
 therefore, to quit that post. 
 
 The nobility about the king began to send off 
 their baggage with all the privacy they could, 
 but would not suffer others to do the same. The 
 soldiers finding themselves jostled and thrust 
 back in the gateways, were so much provoked 
 at that treatment, that they turned upon them, 
 fell to plundering the baggage, and killed several 
 of them. Dorylaus, one of the generals, lost his 
 life for nothing but a purple robe which he had 
 on. Hermaeus, a priest, was trodden underfoot 
 at the gate. Mithridates himself, without any 
 attendant or groom to assist him, got out of the 
 camp amidst the crowd. Of all his royal stud 
 there was not one horse left him ; but at last 
 Ptolemy the eunuch, seeing him carried along 
 with the torrent, and happening to be on horse- 
 back, dismounted and gave him his. The 
 Romans pressed hard upon him, and indeed 
 came up time enough to have taken him. He 
 was in fact almost in their hands ; but their 
 avarice saved him. The prey, which had been 
 pursued through numberless conflicts and dan- 
 gers, escaped, and the victorious Lucullus was 
 robbed of the reward of his toils. The horse 
 which the king rode was almost overtaken, when 
 a mule loaded with gold came between him and 
 his pursuers, either by accident or by the king’s 
 contrivance. The soldiers immediately began to 
 rifle the load, and came to blows about the con- 
 tents ; which gave M ithridates time to get off. 
 Nor was this the only disadvantage Lucullus 
 experienced from their avarice. -Callistratus, the 
 king’s secretary, was taken, and the Roman 
 general had ordered him to be broug.^it before 
 him ; but those who had the charge of it, per- 
 ceiving he had 500 crowns in his girdle, de- 
 spatched him for the mone3^ Yet to such men 
 as these he gave up the plunder of the enemy’s 
 camp. 
 
 After this he took Cabira, and many other 
 places of strength, in which he found much 
 treasure. He likewise found in their prisons 
 many Greeks, and several of the king's own rela- 
 tions, confined ; and, as they had long thought 
 themselves in the most desperate circumstances, 
 the liberty which they gained by the favour of 
 Lucullus appeared to them not so much a de- 
 liverance as a resurrection and new life. One of 
 the king’s sisters, named Nyssa, very happily for 
 her, was of the number. The other sisters and 
 wives of Mithridates, who seemed placed more 
 remote from danger, and at a- distance from war, 
 all perished miserably : he sent the eunuch 
 Bacchides to Phernacia, with orders to see them 
 put to death. 
 
 Among the rest were two of his sisters, 
 Roxana and Statira, who were about the age 
 of forty, and still virgins ; and two of his wives, 
 both lonians, Bernice of Chios, and Monime of 
 Miletus. The latter was much celebrated among 
 the Greeks. Though the king had tried every 
 expedient to bring her to listen to a lawless 
 passion, and made her a present of 15,000 crowns 
 at one time, she rejected all his solicitations till 
 he agreed to marriage, sent her a diadem, and 
 
 declared her queen. Before the last sad mes- 
 sage, she had passed her tinie very unhappily, 
 and looked v/ith grief and indignation on that 
 beauty, whxh instead of a husband had prcH 
 cured her an imperious master, and instead of 
 the domestic comforts of marriage, a guard of 
 barbarians. Banished far from Greece, she had 
 lost the real blessings of life, and where she 
 hoped for happiness found nothing but a dream. 
 
 When Bacchides came and informed those 
 princesses they must die, but that they were at 
 liberty to choose the death most easy and agree- 
 able to them, Monime .snatched the diadem from 
 her head, and applied it to her neck, that it might 
 do the fatal office*. But it broke, and the prin- 
 cess said, “O cursed band ! woaldst thou not at 
 least serve me on this occasion ? ” Then spitting 
 upon it, she threw it from her, and stretched out 
 her neck to Bacchides. 
 
 "Bernice took poison ; and, as her mother, who 
 was present, begged a share of it, she granted 
 her request. They both drank of it ; and its 
 force operated sufficiently upon the weaker body : 
 but Bernice, not having taken a proper quantity, 
 was long a dying. Bacchides therefore strangled 
 her. Roxana, one of the unmarried sisters, after 
 having vented the most bitter imprecations and 
 reproaches against Mithridates, took poison. 
 Statira, however, died without one unkind or 
 ungenerous word. She rather commended her 
 brother, when he must have his anxieties about 
 his own life, for not forgetting them, but providing 
 that they might die free and undishonoured. 
 These events were very disagreeable to the native 
 goodness and humanity of Lucullus. 
 
 He continued his pursuit of Mithridates as far 
 as Talaura ; where, ha\dng learned that he was 
 fled four days before into Armenia to Tigranes, 
 he turned back again. He subdued, however, 
 the Chaldaeans and Tibarenians, and reduced the 
 less Armenia, with the towns and castles. Then 
 he sent Appius to Tigranes, to demand Mithri- 
 dates ; and in the mean time returned to Amisus, 
 which his troops were still besieging. The length 
 of the siege was owiug to Callimachus who com- 
 manded in the town, and was an able engineer, 
 skilled in every art of attack and defence. By 
 this he gave the Romans much trouble, for which 
 he suffered afterwards. Lucullus availed himself 
 of a stratagem against which he had not guarded. 
 He made a sudden assault at the time when 
 Callimachus used to draw off his men for refresh- 
 ment. Thus he made himself master of some 
 part of the wall ; upon which, Callimachus, either 
 envying the Romans the plunder of the place, or 
 with a view to facilitate his own escape, set fire 
 to the town, and quitted it. For no one paid any 
 attention to those who fled by sea The flames 
 spread with great rapidity around the walls, and 
 the soldiers prepared themselves to pillage the j 
 houses. Lucullus, in commiseration of a fine ! 
 city thus sinking into ruin, endeavoured to assist 
 it from without, and ordered his troops to ex- 
 tinguish the fire. But they paid no regard to 
 him ; they went on collecting the spoils and 
 clashing their arms ; till he was iorced to give up 
 the plunder to them, in hopes of saving the city 
 from the flames. It happened, however, quite 
 otherwise. In rummaging every comer, with 
 torches in their hands, they set fire to many 
 of the houses themselves. So that when Lucullus 
 entered the town next morning, he said to his 
 
350 PLUTARCH LIVES, 
 
 friends, with tears in his eyes, “ I have often 
 admired the good fortune of Sylla, but never so 
 much as I do this day. He desired to save 
 Athens, and succeeded. I wished to imitate him 
 on this occasion ; but instead of that, the gods 
 have classed me with Mummius." * 
 
 Nevertheless, he endeavoured to restore the 
 place, as far as its unhappy circumstances would 
 permit. A shower, which providentially f^ell 
 about the time it was taken, extinguished the 
 fire, and saved many of the buildings ; and, 
 during his stay, he rebuilt most of those that 
 were destroyed. Such of the inhabitants as had 
 fled he received with pleasure, and added to 
 them a draught of other Greeks who were willing 
 to settle there. At the same time, he gave them 
 a territory of 120 furlongs. 
 
 The city was a colony of Athenians, planted 
 here at a time when their power was at the height ; 
 and they w’ere masters of the sea. Hence it was, 
 that those who fled from the tyranny of Aristion, 
 retired to Amisus, and were admitted to the 
 privilege of citizens ; fortunately enough gaining 
 abroad what they lost at home. The remainder 
 of them Lucullus now clothed in an honourable 
 manner, gave each 200 drachmas, and sent them 
 back into their own country. Tyrannic, the 
 grammarian, was of the number. Murena begged 
 him of Lucullus, and afterwards enfranchised 
 him ; in which he acted ungenerously by his 
 superior officer’s present. Lucullus would not 
 have been willing, that a man so honoured for 
 his learning, should be first considered as a slave, 
 and then set free. The real liberty he was born 
 to, must be taken away, before he could have 
 this seeming freedom. But this was not the only 
 instance in which Murena acted with less gene- 
 rosity than became an officer of his rank. 
 
 Lucullus then turned towards the cities of Asia, 
 that he might bestow the time which was not 
 employed in war, on the promotion of law and 
 justice. These had long lost their influence in 
 that province, which was overwhelmed with un- 
 speakable misfortunes. It was desolated and 
 enslaved by the farmers of the revenue and by 
 usurers The poor inhabitants were forced to 
 sell the most beautiful of their sons and daugh- 
 ters, the ornaments and offerings in their temples, 
 their paintings, and the statues of their gods. 
 The last resource was to serve their creditors as 
 slaves. Their sufferings, prior to this, were more 
 cruel and insupportable ; prisons, racks, tortures, 
 exposures to the burning sun in summer, and in 
 winter to the extremity of cold, amidst ice or 
 mire ; insomuch that servitude seemed a happy 
 deliverance and a scene of peace. Lucullus, 
 finding the cities in such dreadful distress, soon 
 rescued the oppressed from all their burdens. 
 
 In the first place he ordered the creditors not 
 to take above one in the hundred for a month’s 
 interest : t in the next place he abolished all 
 interest that exceeded the principal : the third 
 and most important regulation was, that the 
 creditor should not take above a fourth part of 
 the debtor’s income. And if any one took interest 
 upon interest he was to lose all. By these means, 
 in less than four years, all the debts were paid. 
 
 and the estates restored free to the proprietors. 
 The public fine which Sylla had laid upon Asia, 
 was 20,000 talents. It had been paid twice ; and 
 yet the merciless collectors, by usury upon usury, 
 now brought it to 120,000 talents. * 
 
 These men, pretending they had been unjustly 
 treated, raised a clamour in Rome against Lu- 
 cullus, and hired a number of popular orators to 
 speak against him. They had, indeed, a con- 
 siderable interest, because many persons who 
 had a share in the administration, were their 
 debtors. Lucullus, on the other hand, was 
 beloved not only by the nations which had ex- 
 perienced his good offices ; the hearts of the 
 other provinces were his, and they longed for a 
 governor who had made such numbers happy. 
 
 Appius Clodius, who was sent ambassador to 
 Tigranes by Lucullus, and who was his wife’s 
 brother, at first fell into the hands of guides that 
 were subjects to Mithridates. These me.i made 
 him take an unnecessary circuit of many days’ 
 journey in the upper countries ; but at last an 
 enfranchised servant of his, a Syrian by nation, 
 discovered to him the imposition, and showed him 
 the right road. He then bade adieu to his 
 barbarian guides, and in a few days passed the 
 Euphrates, and reached Antioch of Daphne.^ 
 'There he had orders to wait for Tigranes, who 
 was then employed in reducing some cities of 
 Phoenicia ; and he found means to bring over to 
 the Roman interest many princes who submitted 
 to the Armenians out of pure necessity. Among 
 these was Zarbienus, king of Gordyene. A 
 number of the cities too, which Tigranes had 
 conquered, privately sent deputies to Clodius ; 
 and he promised them all the succour Lucullus 
 could give him, but desired they would make no 
 immediate resistance. The Armenian govern- 
 ment was, indeed, an insupportable burden to the 
 Greeks ; particularly the king’s pride, through a 
 long course of prosperity, was become so enor- 
 mous that he thought whatever is great and 
 admirable in the eyes of the world v/as not only 
 in his power, but even made for him. For 
 though his prospects at first were small and con- 
 temptible, he had subdued many nations, and 
 humbled the Parthian power more than any 
 prince before him. He had colonized Mesopo- 
 tamia with Greeks, whom he draughted in great 
 numbers out of Cilicia and Cappadocia. He had 
 drawn the scenite f Arabians from their wandering 
 way of life, and placed them nearer to Armenia 
 that he might avail himself of their mercantile 
 abilities. He had many kings at his court in the 
 capacity of servants, and four in particular as 
 mace-bearers or footmen, who, whenever he rode 
 on horseback, ran before him in short jerkins ; 
 and, when he sat to give audience, stood by with 
 their hands clasped together ; which last circum- 
 stance seems a mark of the lowest slavery, a 
 token that they had not only resigned their 
 
 * Among several cities of that name this was 
 the principal. It was called, however, by way of 
 distinction, the Antioch of Daphne. Daphne 
 was a beautiful village, about forty furlongs from 
 it, consecrated to the nymph of that name, and 
 adorned with groves of a large extent, several of 
 them probably of laurel ; in the midst of which 
 stood the temple of Apollo and Diana. The 
 grove and temple were a sanctuary. 
 
 t Probably so called from their living in tents. 
 
 * The destroyer of Corinth, 
 f This was the legal interest among the 
 Romans. Whence we may learn the comparative 
 scarcity of money in those times. 
 
LUCULLUS, 
 
 liberty, but that they were prepared rather to 
 suffer than to act. 
 
 Appius, not in the least disconcerted at all this 
 pomp, plainly set forth his commission, at his first 
 audience, that he was come to demand Mithri- 
 dates, whom Lucullus claimed for his triumph ; 
 .otherwise he must declare war againk Tigranes. 
 Whatever efforts the prince made to receive the 
 message with an easy countenance and a kind of 
 smile, It was visible to all that he was affected 
 with the young man’s bold address. This was, 
 indeed, the first free speech that he had heard for 
 five and twenty years . for so long he had been a 
 king, or rather a tyrant. However, the answer 
 he gave Appius was, that he would not deliver 
 up Mithridates; and if the Romans began the 
 war, he was able to defend himself. He was 
 displeased with Lucullus for giving him, in his 
 letter, barely the title of king, and not that of 
 king of kings ; and therefore in his answer he 
 would not address him as hyiperator. This did 
 not hinder him from sending magnificent presents 
 to Appius ; and, when he found he did not accept 
 them, he sent more. At last, Appius, that he 
 might sot seem to reject them out of any par- 
 ticular pique, took a cup, and sent back all the 
 rest. Then he returned with the utmost ex- 
 pedition to his general. 
 
 Before this Tigranes had not deigned to admit 
 Mithridates into his presence, nor to speak to a 
 prince who was so nearly allied to him, and who 
 had lately lost so great a kingdom. He had sent 
 him in a contemptuous manner to remote marshes 
 and a sickly air, where he was kept like a prisoner. 
 But now he called him to court with great marks 
 of honour and regard. In a private conference 
 they exculpated themselves at the expense of 
 their friends. Metrodorus the Scepsian was of 
 the number ; an able speaker, and a man of e.x- 
 tensive erudition, who had been in such high 
 favour, that he was styled the king’s father. It 
 seems, when he went ambassador from Mithri- 
 dates to the Armenian court, to beg assistance 
 against the Romans, Tigranes said, “ What 
 would you, Metrodorus, advise me to in this 
 case ? ’■ Whether it was that he had the interest 
 cf Tigranes in view, or whether he wanted to see 
 Mithridates absolutely ruined, he answered, “ As 
 an ambassador, I should exhort you to it ; but, 
 as your counsellor I should advise you against 
 it.” T.granes discovered this to Mithridates, not 
 imagining he would resent it in the manner he 
 did. The unfortunate prince immediately put 
 Metrodorus to death ; and Tigranes greatly re- 
 pented the step he had taken, though he was not 
 absolutely the cause of that minister s death, but 
 only added stings to the hatred Mithridates had 
 long entertained for him. This appeared when 
 his private memorandums were taken, in which 
 Metrodorus was found among those marked out 
 for the a.\e. Tigranes buried him honourably, 
 and spared no expense in his funeral, though he 
 had been the cause of his death. 
 
 Amphicrates, the orator, likewise died at that 
 court, if we may be allowed to record his name 
 for the sake of Athens. He is said to have been 
 banished his country, and to have retired to 
 Seleucia upon the Tigris, where the inhabitants 
 desired him to open a school of rhetoric ; but he 
 answered in the most contemptuous manner, and 
 with all the vanity of a sophist, that a plate 
 could not contain a dolphin.” From thence he 
 
 went to the court of Cleopatra, the daughter of 
 Mithridates, and wife of Tigranes, where he soon 
 made himself so obnoxious, that he was forbidden 
 all intercourse with the Greeks ; upon which he 
 starved himself to death. Cleopatra bestowed 
 upon kim too a magnificent funeral, and his tomb 
 is near a place called Sapha. 
 
 Lucullus, having established peace and good 
 laws in Asia, did not neglect what might be con- 
 ducive to elegance and pleasure ; but, during his 
 stay at Ephesus, entertained the Grecian cities 
 with shwws, triumphal feasts, and trials of skill 
 between wrestlers and gladiators. The cities, in 
 return, instituted a feast to his honour, which 
 they called Lticullia; and the real affection that 
 inspired them with the thought was more agree- 
 able than the honour itself. 
 
 When Appius was returned, and had acquainted 
 him that it was necessary to go to war with 
 Tigranes, he went back to Pontus, and put him- 
 selt at the head of his troops. His first operation 
 was to lay siege to Sinope, or rather to a corps of 
 Cilicians who had thrown themselves into the 
 town on the part of Mithridates. These, upon 
 the approach of Lucullus, put a great number of 
 the inhabitants to the sword, and after setting fire 
 to the place, endeavoured to escape in the night. 
 But Lucullus discovering their intention, entered 
 the town, and having killed 8000 of them who 
 were left behind, restored their effects to the old 
 inhabitants, and exerted himself greatly in saving 
 the city from the flames. His particular induce- 
 ment was the following dream. He dreamed 
 that a person stood by him, and said, “Go 
 forward, Lucullus ; for Autolycus is coming to 
 meet you.” When he awaked, he could form no 
 conjecture about the signification of the dream. 
 However, he took the city the same day, and, in 
 pursuing the Cilicians to their ships, he saw a 
 statue lying on the shore, which they had not 
 been able to get on board. The work was one of 
 the rnasterpieces of Sthenis ; and he was told 
 that it was the statue of Autolycus. the founder 
 of Sinope. This Autolycus is said to have been 
 the son of Deimachus, and one of those Thessa- 
 lians who assisted Hercules in the war against 
 the Amazons.* In his voyage back, along with 
 Demoleon and Phlogius, his ship struck on a 
 rock of the Chersonesus called Pedalion, and he 
 lost it. He and his friends, however, saved their 
 lives and their arms, and went to Sinope, which 
 they took from the Syrians. The Syrians who 
 then held it, we are tcld, were so called, because 
 they were the descendants of Syrus the son of 
 Apollo and Sinope the daughter of Asopus. 
 When Lucullus heard this, he recollected the 
 observation of Sylla in his Commentaries — that 
 nothing more deserves our belief and attention 
 than what is signified to us in dreams. 
 
 After news was brought that Mithridates and 
 Tigranes were on the point of entering Lycaonia 
 and Cilicia with all their forces, in order to seize 
 Asia before him, he could not help thinking it 
 strange that the Armenian did not make use of 
 Mithridates when in his glo^, nor join the armies 
 of Pontus while they were in their full strength ; 
 but suffered them to be broken and destroyed ; 
 
 * Strabo tells us, Autolycus was one of the 
 Argonauts, who, after his voyage to Colchis, 
 settled at S nope, and had divine honours paid 
 him after his death. Strab. 1 . xii. 
 
352 PLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 and now at last wltli cold hopes of success began 
 the war, or rather threw himself down headlong 
 with those who could stand no longer. 
 
 Amidst these transactions, Machares, the son 
 of Mithridates, who was master of the Bosphorus, 
 sent Luculliis a coronet of gold of looo crowns 
 value, and begged to be numbered among the 
 friends and allies of Rome. Lucullus, now con- 
 cluding that the first war was finished, left 
 Sornatius with a c rps of 6000 men, to settle the 
 alTairs of that province ; and with 12,000 foot and 
 less than 3000 horse, marched to meet another war. 
 It seemed amazing temerity to go with a handful 
 of men against so many warlike nations, so many 
 myriads of cavalry, and such a vast country, 
 intersected with deep rivers, and barricaded with 
 mountains for ever covered with snow. Of course 
 his soldiers, who were not otherwise under the 
 best discipline, now followed with great reluc- 
 tance, and were ready to mutiny. On the other 
 hand, the popular orators clamoured against him 
 in Rome, representing that he levied war after 
 war; no: that the public utility required it, but 
 that he might always keep the command and 
 continue in arms, and that he might accumulate 
 riches at the risk of the commonwealth. These 
 at last succeeded in their design, which was to 
 recall Lucullus. 
 
 At present he reached the Euphrates by long 
 marches. He found it swollen and overflowing by 
 reason of the late rains, and was apprehensive he 
 should find much delay and difficulty in collecting 
 boats and n aking a bridge ot them. But in the 
 evening the flood began to subside, and lessened 
 in such a manner in the night, that next morning 
 the river appeared much within the channel. 
 The people of tae country seeing little islands in 
 its bed, which had seldom ceen visible, and the 
 stream breaking gently about them, considered 
 Lucullus as something more than mortal. F^r 
 they saw the great river put on a mild and 
 obliging air to him, and afford him a quick and 
 easy passage. 
 
 He availed himself of the opportunity, and 
 passed it with his army. An auspicious omen 
 appeared immediately after. A number of heifers, 
 sacred to the Persian Diana, the goddess whom 
 the inhabitants of those parts particularly worship, 
 pastured on the other side. These heifers are 
 used only in the way of sacrifice ; at other times 
 they range at large, marked with the figure of a 
 torch, as a token of their designation : and it was 
 difficult to take them when they v/ere wanted. 
 But now the army had no sooner crossed the 
 river, than one of them went and stood by a rock 
 which is deemed sacred to the goddess, and 
 hanging down her head in the manner of those 
 that are bound, offered herself to Lucullus as a 
 victim. He sacrificed also a bull to the Eu- 
 phrates, on account of his safe passage. 
 
 He stayed there that whole day to refresh his 
 army. The next day he marched through So- 
 phene, without doing the least injury to those 
 who submitted and received his troops in a proper 
 manner. Nay, when his men wanted to stop 
 and take a fort that was supposed to be full of 
 treasure, he pointed to Mount Taurus which 
 appeared at a distance, and said, “Yonder is the 
 fort you are to take ; as for these things, they 
 will of course belong to the conqueror.” Then, 
 pushing his march, he crossed the Tigris, and 
 entered Armenia. 
 
 As Tigranes ordered the first man who brought 
 him an account of the enemy’s arrival, to lose his 
 head for his reward, no one afterwards presumed 
 to mention it. He remained in ignorance, though 
 the hostile fire already touched him ; and with 
 pleasure heard his flatterers say, “ Lucullus 
 would be a great general, if he waited for 
 Tigranes at Ephesus, and did not quit Asia at 
 the sight of his vast armies.” Thus it is not 
 every man that can bear much wine, nor can an 
 ordinary mind bear great prosperity without 
 staggering. The first of his friends who ven- 
 tured to tell him the truth, was Mithrobarzanes ; 
 and he was but ill rewarded for the liberty he 
 had taken. He was sent against Lucullus with 
 3000 horse and a more respectable body of foot, 
 with orders to take the Roman general alive, but 
 to tread the rest under his feet. 
 
 Pai't of the Roman forces were pitching their 
 tents, and the rest were upon the march, when 
 their scouts brought intelligence that the bar- 
 barians were at hand. He had therefore his 
 apprehensions, that if they attacked him before 
 his troops were all assembled and formed, they 
 might be put in disorder. The measure he took 
 was to stay and intrench himself : meantime he 
 sent his lieutenant Sextilius with 1600 horse, and 
 not many more infantry, including both the light 
 and the heavy armed, with orders, when he 
 approached the enemy, to stop and amuse them, 
 till he should be informed that the intrenchments 
 were finished. 
 
 Sextilius was willing to obey his orders, but 
 Mithrobarzanes came upon him so boldly, that 
 he was forced to fight. Mithrobarzanes behaved 
 with great bravery, but fell in the action. Then 
 his troops took to flight, and were most of them 
 cut in pieces. 
 
 After this, Tigranes left Tigranocerta, the 
 great city which he had built, and retired to 
 Mount Taurus, where he intended to collect all 
 his forces. But Lucullus, not giving him much 
 time for preparation, sent Murena to harass and 
 cut off the parties on one side, as fast as they 
 came up ; on the other side Sextilius advanced 
 against a large corps of Arabians, which was 
 going to join' the king. Sextilius came upon the 
 Arabians as they were encamping, and killed 
 the greatest part of them. Murena following 
 the steps of Tigranes, took his opportunity to” 
 attack him, as he was leading a great army along 
 a rugged and narrow defile. The king himself 
 fled, abandoning all his baggage. Many of the 
 Armenians were put to the sword, and greater 
 numbers made prisoners. 
 
 Lucullus, after this success, marched against 
 Tigranocerta, and invested it with his army. 
 There were in that city many Greeks who had 
 been transplanted out of Cilicia, and many bar- 
 barians whose fortunes had been no better than 
 that of the Greeks, Adiabenians, Assyrians, Gor- 
 dyenians, and Cappadocians, whose cities Ti- 
 granes had demolished, and then removed the 
 inhabitants, and compelled them to settle in that 
 he had built. The place was full of treasure and 
 rich ornaments ; every private person, as well as 
 grandee, to make their court to the king, striving 
 which should contribute most to its embellish- 
 ment. For this reason Lucullus carried on the 
 siege with great vigour, in the opinion that 
 Tigranes would, contrary to his better judgment, 
 be provoked to give him battle. And he was 
 
LUCULLUS. 
 
 3S3 
 
 not mistaken. Mithridates, by messengers and 
 letters, dissuaded the king much from hazarding 
 a battle, and advised him to cut off the Roman 
 convoys with his cavalry. Taxiles too, who came 
 on the part of Mithridates to co-operate with 
 Tigranes, entreated him to avoid meeting the 
 Roman arms, which he assured him were in- 
 vincible. 
 
 At first the king heard him with patience. But 
 when the Armenians and Gordyenians arrived 
 with all their forces ; when the kings of the 
 Medes and Adiabenians had brought in their 
 armies ; when numbers of Arabians came from 
 the coasts of the Babylonian sea,* Albanians 
 from the Caspian, and Iberians from the neigh- 
 bourhood of the Albanians ; beside a considerable 
 body gained by presents and persuasion, from 
 those nations about the Araxes that live without 
 regal government : then nothing was expressed 
 at the king’s table or council-board, but sanguine 
 hopes and barbarian menaces. Taxiles was in 
 danger of his life for attempting to oppose the 
 resolution to give battle, and Mithridates him- 
 self was accused of envying the glorious success 
 that would attend his son-in-law. 
 
 Tigranes, therefore, would not wait for him, 
 lest he should share with him the honour of the 
 victory : but advanced immediately with all his 
 forces ; and is said to have expressed to his 
 friends some uneasiness, that he should have 
 to do only with Lucullus, and not try his strength 
 at once with all the generals of Rome. Indeed, 
 these boasts of the king do not appear entirely 
 frantic and destitute of reason, while he was sur- 
 veying so many nations and princes under his 
 standard, such astonishing numbers of heavy- 
 armed infantry, and so many myriads of cavalry. 
 He had 20,000 archers and slingers, and 55,000 
 horse, of which 17,000 were clad in steel, accord- 
 mg to the account Lucullus sent to the senate. 
 His infantry, divided into companies and bat- 
 talions, consisted of 150,000 men ; and there 
 were 35,000 pioneers and other labourers to make 
 good the roads, to prepare bridges, to cleanse the 
 course of rivers, to provide wood, and to answer 
 all the occasions of the army. These were drawn 
 up behind, to give it a greater appearance of 
 strength and numbers. 
 
 When he had passed Mount Taurus, and spread 
 his troops upon the plain, he could see the Roman 
 army besieging Tigranocerta. The mixed multi- 
 tude of barbarians in the city likewise saw him, 
 and in a menacing manner pointed to their king’s 
 armies from the walls. 
 
 Lucullus, before the battle, held a council of 
 advised him to quit the siege, and 
 meet Tigranes with all his forces ; others were of 
 opinion, that he should continue the siege, and 
 not leave so many enemies behind him. He told 
 them that neither, separately, gave good counsel, 
 but both together did. He therefore divided his 
 mrces, and left Murena before the place with 
 6000 men ; while he, with the rest of the infantry, 
 consisting of twenty-four cohorts, which con- 
 tained not more than jo,ooo combatants, with all 
 his cavalry, and about 1000 slingers and archers, 
 marched against Tigranes. 
 
 He encamped on a large plain with a river 
 appearing no more 
 than a handful, afforded much matter of mirth to 
 
 * The Persian gulf. 
 
 the flatterers of the king. Some ridiculed the 
 diminutive appearance : others, by way of jest, 
 cast lots lor the spoil. And there was not one of 
 the generals and princes, who did not come and 
 desire to be employed alone upon that service, 
 while Tigranes needed only to sit still and look 
 on. The king, too, thinking he must show him- 
 self facetious on the occasion, made use of that 
 celebrated expression, that if they came as am- 
 bassadors, there were too many of them ; if 
 as soldiers, too few. Thus they passed the first 
 day in raillery. 
 
 Next morning at break of day Lucullus drew 
 out his army. The camp of the barbarians was 
 on the east side of the river. But the river, 
 where it is most fordable, makes a bend to the 
 west. As Lucullus marched hastily down to 
 that quarter, Tigranes thought he was retreating. 
 Upon this, he called to Taxiles, and said with a 
 scornful smile, “ Seest thou not these invincible 
 Roman legions taking to flight?” Taxiles 
 answered, “T wish from my soul, my lord, that 
 your good genius may work a miracle in your 
 favour ; but these legions do not use their best 
 accoutrements in a mere march. They do not 
 wear their polished shields, nor take their bright 
 helmets out of their cases, as you see they have 
 now done. All this splendid appearance indi- 
 cates their intention to fight, and to advance 
 against their enemies as fast as possible.” 
 
 While Taxiles was yet speaking, they saw the 
 eagle of the foremost legion make a motion to 
 the right by order of Lucullus, and the cohorts 
 proceed in good order to pass the . iver. 
 
 Then Tigranes with much difficulty awaked 
 from his intoxication, and exclaimed two or three 
 times, “Are these men coming against us?” 
 After this, he drew out his forces in a hasty and 
 disorderly manner ; taking himself the command 
 of the main body, and giving the left wing to the 
 king of the Adiabenians, and the right to the king 
 of the Medes. Before this right wing were 
 placed most of the cavalry that were armed in 
 steel. 
 
 As Lucullus was going to pass the river, some 
 of his officers admonished him to beware of that 
 day, which had been an inauspicious, or vas they 
 called it) a black one to the Romans. For on 
 that day Caepio’s army was defeated by the 
 Cimbri. Lucullus returned that memorable 
 answer, “I will make this day an auspicious one 
 for Rome.” It was the 6th of October. 
 
 Having thus spoken, and withal exhorted his 
 men to exert themselves, he advanced at the 
 head of them against the enemy. He was armed 
 with a breastplate of steel formed in scales, 
 which cast a surprising lustre ; and the robe he 
 wore over it was adorned with fringe. He drew 
 his sword immediately, to show his iroops the 
 necessity of coming hand to hand with an enemy 
 who were accustomed to fight at a distance ; and 
 by the vigour of their charge not to leave them 
 room to exercise their missive weapons. Observ- 
 ing that the enemy’s heavy-armed cavalry, upon 
 which they placed their chief dependence, was 
 covered by a hill that was plain and even at the 
 top, and which, with an extent of only four fur- 
 longs, was not very difficult to ascend, he de- 
 spatched his Thracian and Gaulish horse, with 
 orders to take them in flank, and to strike at 
 nothing but the shafts of their pikes. Their 
 whole strength, indeed, consists in the pike, and 
 
354 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 they have no other weapon, either offensive or 
 defensive, that they can use, by reason of their 
 heavy and unwieldy armour, in which they are, 
 as it were, immured. 
 
 Meanwhile he began to climb the hill with two 
 companies of infantry, and the soldiers followed 
 him with great readiness, when they saw him, 
 encumbered as he was with his armour, the first 
 to labour on foot up the ascent. When he had 
 reached the summit, he stood on the most con- 
 spicuous part of it, and cried out, “ The victory 
 is ours, my fellow soldiers, the victory is ours ! ” 
 At the same time he advanced against the heavy 
 armed cavalry, and ordered his men not to make 
 any use of their javelins, but to come to close 
 action, and to aim their blows at their enemies’ 
 legs and thighs, in which parts alone they were 
 not armed. There was no need, however, to put 
 this in execution. For, instead of standing to 
 receive the Romans, they set up a cry of fear, 
 and most despicably fled without, striking a 
 stroke. In their flight, they and their horses, 
 heavy with armour, ran back upon their own 
 infantry, and put them in confusion : insomuch 
 that all those myriads were routed, without 
 standing to receive one wound, or spilling one 
 drop of blood. Multitudes, however, were slain 
 in their flight, or rather in their attempt to fly ; 
 their ranks being so thick and deep, that they 
 entangled and impeded each other. 
 
 Tigranes rode off one of the first, with a few 
 attendants ; and seeing his son taking his share 
 in his misfortune, he took the diadem from his 
 head, gave it him with tears, and desired him to 
 save himself in the best manner he could by 
 taking some other road. The young prince did 
 not venture to wear it, but put it in the hands of 
 one of his most faithful servants, who happened 
 afterwards to be taken and brought to Lucallus : 
 by this means the royal diadem of Tigranes added 
 to the honours of the spoil. It is said that of the 
 foot there fell above 100,000, and of the horse very 
 few escaped ; whereas the Romans had but five 
 killed, and 100 wounded. Antiochus, the philo- 
 sopher," in his Treatise concerning the Gods, 
 speaking of this action, says, the sun never beheld 
 such another. Strabo,! another philosopher, in 
 his historical Commentaries, informs us, that the 
 Romans were ashamed, and ridiculed each other, 
 for having employed weapons against such vile 
 slaves. And Livy tells us, the Romans, with 
 such inferior numbers, never engaged such a 
 multitude as this. The victors did not, indeed, 
 make up the twentieth part of the‘ vanquished. 
 The most able and experienced commanders 
 among the Romans paid the highe.st compliments 
 to the generalship of Lucullus, principally, be- 
 cause he had deieated two of the greatest and 
 most powerful kings in the world by methods 
 entirely different : the one by an expeditious and 
 the other by a slow process. He ruined Mithri- 
 dates, when in the height of his power, by pro- 
 tracting the war, and Tigranes by the celerity of 
 his movements. Indeed among all the generals 
 in the world, there have been very few instances 
 of any one’s availing himself of delay for execution, 
 or of expedition for security. 
 
 * Antiochus of Escalon. Cicero was his dis- 
 ciple. 
 
 t Strabo, the geographer and historian, was 
 also a philosopher of the Stoic form. 
 
 Hence it was, that Mithridates made no haste 
 to come to action, or to join Tigranes ; imagining 
 that Lucullus would proceed with his usual 
 caution and slowness. But as soon as he met a 
 few Armenians on the road, with the greatest 
 marks of consternation upon them, he formed 
 some conjecture of what had happened ; and 
 when many more came up naked and wounded, 
 he was too well assured of the loss, and inquired 
 for Tigranes. Though he found him in the most 
 destitute and deplorable condition, he did not 
 offer him the least insult. Instead of that, he 
 dismounted, and bewailed with him their common 
 mi.sfortunes : gave him his own royal equipage, 
 and held up to him a prospect of better success. 
 They began to levy other forces. 
 
 In Tigranocerta the Greeks had mutinied 
 against the barbarians, and wanted to deliver up 
 the city to Lucullus. Accordingly he gave the 
 assault, and took it. After he had secured the 
 royal treasures, he gave up the plunder of the 
 town jto his soldiers, and they found there, besides 
 other rich booty, 8000 talents in coined money. 
 Lucullus added 800 drachmas to each man’s 
 share. 
 
 Being informed that there were found in the 
 town a number of such artists as are requisite in 
 theatrical exhibitions, whom Tigranes had col- 
 lected from all parts, for opening the theatre 
 he had built, he made use of them in the games 
 and other public diversions in honour of his 
 victory. 
 
 H e sent back the Greeks to their own countries, 
 and furnished them with necessaries for that 
 purpose. He likewise permitted the barbarians 
 who had been compelled to settle there, to return 
 to their respective abodes. Thus it happened 
 that, by the dispersion of the people of one city, 
 many cities recovered their former inhabitants. 
 For which reason Lucullus was reverenced by 
 them as a patron and founder. He succeeded 
 also in his other undertakings agreeably to his 
 merit ; being more desirous of the praise of 
 justice and humanity, than of that which arises 
 from military achievements. For in tho.se the 
 army claims no small part, and fortune a greater ; 
 whereas the other are proofs of a gentle disposi- 
 tion and subdued mind, and by them Lucullus 
 brought the barbarians to submit without the 
 sword. The kings of the Arabs came over to 
 him, and put their po.ssessions in his power ; the 
 whole nation of Sophane followed their example; 
 and the Gordyenians were so well inclined to 
 serve him, that they were willing to quit their 
 habitations and follow him with their wives and 
 children. The cause was this : 
 
 Zarbienus, king of Gordyene, unable, as has 
 been said, to support the tyranny of Tigranes, 
 applied privately through Appius to Lucullus, 
 and desired to be admitted as an ally. This 
 application being discovered, he was put to death 
 with his wife and children, before the Romans 
 entered Armenia. Lucullus, however, did not 
 forget It, but, as he passed through Gordyene, 
 took care that Zarbienus should have a magnifi- 
 cent funeral, and adorned the pile with gold 
 stuffs and royal vestments found among the spoils 
 of Tigranes. The Roman general himself set fire 
 to it, and, together with the friends and relations 
 of the deceased, offered the accustomed libations, 
 declaring him his friend, and an ally to the Roman 
 people. He caused a monument to be erected to 
 
LUCULLUS, 
 
 his memory at a considerable exjiense : for there 
 was found in the treasuiy of that prince a great 
 quantity of gold and silver; there were found 
 alp m his storehouses 3,000,000 medimni of 
 ^ sufficient provision for the 
 soldiers; and Lucullus was much admired for 
 making the war maintain itself, and carrying it 
 on without taking one drachma out of the public 
 treasury. ^ 
 
 About this time there ^inie an embassy from 
 the king of Parthia to solicit his friendship and 
 a>iiance. Lucullus received the jiroposal with 
 pipsure, and sent ambassadors in his turn ; who 
 when they were at that prince’s court, discovered 
 that he w^ unresolved what part to act, and that 
 r.e was privately treating with Tigranes for Meso- 
 potamia, as a reward for the succours with which 
 he should furnish him. As soon as Lucullus was 
 sensible of this, he determined to let Tigranes 
 and aiithndates alone, as adversaries already ■ 
 tired out, and to try his strength with the Par- 
 mian, by enrermg his territories- He thought 
 It would ^ glorious, if in one expedition, durin<»^ 
 the Ode of good fortune, like an able wrestler he 
 wou;d throw three princes successively, and tra- 
 verse the dominions of three of the most powerful 
 kings under the sun, perpetually victorious. 
 
 for this reason he sent orders to Somatiusand 
 his mher officers in Pontus to bring their forces 
 to him, ^ he intended to begin his march for 
 Parthia from Gordyene. These officers had 
 _ already found their soldiers refractory and obsti- 
 ; nare, but now thet' saw them absolutely mutinous 
 and not to be wrought upon by any method o’' ■ 
 persuasion or of force. On the contrary, they 
 I loudly d^lared they would not even stay there ' 
 tmt would go and leave Pontus itself unguarded! 
 When an account of th.s behaviour was brought 
 to Lucullus It corrupted the troops he had vdth 
 him . and they were very ready to receive these 
 impressions, loaded as they were with wealth 
 cntr\'at^ «ath luxury, and panting after repose! 1 
 Lpin hearing, therefore, of the bold ternS^ ’ 
 which the others had expressed themselves thev 
 said they acted like men, and set an example : 
 worthy of imitation ; And surety,” continued ' 
 they, our services entitle us to a discharge that 
 we nmy return to our own country, and eniov 
 ourseives m security and quiet." ^ ^ j 
 
 These speeches, and worse than these, coming ' 
 lie of Lucullus, he gave up all thoughts of 
 
 his PartWn expedition, and inarched once more ' 
 Ti^nes. It was now the height of 1 
 ^ gained the summit 
 of Mount Taurus, he .saw with regret the com 
 backward are the sSons in those 
 ^ prevails there.* 
 
 He descended, however, into the plain, and beat 
 the Remans who ventured to face him in two ‘ 
 or three skirmishes. Then he plundered ^e 
 by taking the convoys . 
 
 oesigned for ligranes, brought that want upon 
 the enemy, which he had dr^ded himself. ^ 
 
 j, uau oreacea lumself. 
 
 thim P? m^ure which might brmg ' 
 
 t^m to a decisive battle ; he drew a line nf > 
 mrmmvallation about their camp ; he laid waste 
 
 ‘ «n ’ butlhey Sd : 
 
 -«n too often defeated, to think of riskiiig aa 
 
 August. ^ us the snow hes there till 
 
 engagement. He therefore marched against 
 Areata the capital of l igranes, where he had 
 left his wives and children ; concluding he would 
 rehef^^*^ ^ be taken, without attempting its 
 
 It is^id that Hannibal, the Carthaginian. aft»»r 
 Antiochus was subdued by the Romans, address^ 
 himself to Artaxas k ng of Armenia. Wnile h* 
 was at tlmt prince's court, beside instmeting him 
 m other important matters, he pointe j out to him 
 neglected 
 
 atforded the happiest situation imaginable for a 
 city. He gave him the plan of one, and exhorted 
 hiin to put It m execution. The king, charmed 
 with the motion, desired him to take the direction 
 of the work ; and in a short time there was seen a 
 large and beautiful city, which bore that prince's 
 name, and was declared the metropolis of Ar- 
 menia. 
 
 When Lucullus advanced to lay sJege to this 
 place the patience of Tigranes failed h m. He 
 marched in quest of the Romans, and the fourth 
 toy encamped over against them, being separated 
 irom them only by the river Arsanias, which they ' 
 must necessanly pass in their march to Artaxat/ < 
 kucuUus having sacrificed to the gods in full per- 
 suasion that the victory was his owm, passed over 
 m order of battle with twelve cohorts in front, j 
 Ihe rest were placed in the rear, to prevent th'-ir 
 being surrounded by the enemy. For their 
 motions were w tohed by a large select body of 
 ^valiT, covered by some fi>mig squadrons of 
 31 ardian archers and Ibenan spear-men, in whose 
 courage ^d skill Tigranes, of all his foreign 
 troops, placed the highest confidence. 'Their 
 ^haviour however, did not distmguish them. 
 Ihey exchanged a few blows with the Roman 
 ^rse, but did not wait the charge of the infantry, 
 lliey dispersed and fled, and the Roman cavaiiV 
 pursued them in the different routes they had 
 taken. 
 
 ligr^es now seeing his advantage, advanced ^ 
 with his own cavalry. Lucullus was a little ? 
 intunitoted at their numbers and the splendour 
 of their ^^ance. He therefore called his t 
 ^valry off from the pursuit ; and in the mean I 
 time was the foremost to advance against the 
 nobility, who, with the flower of the army, were i 
 a^ut the kings person. But they fled at the sight 1 ' 
 of him without striking a blow. Of the three I 
 kin^ that were then in the action, the flight of j 
 Mithnt^tp seenp to have been the most dis- i 
 graceful, for he did not stand the verj' shouts of 
 the Ro.i.ans. The pursuit continued the whole 
 night, until wearied w ith the carnage, and satisfied 
 wnth the prisoners, and the booty thev made the 
 Romans drew off. Livy tells us. that in the 
 former battle there were greater numbers killed 
 and taken prisoners: but in this, persons of 
 higher quality. i 
 
 Lucullus, elevated with his success, resolved to 
 ^netrate the upper country, and to finish the 
 t^truction of this barbarian prince. It was now 
 the autumnal equinox, and he met with storms he f 
 did not expect- The snow fell almost constantly ; 1 
 and when the sky was dear, the frost was so - 
 intense, that by reason of the extreme cold the ^ 
 horses could hardly drink J the rivers ; nor could : 
 they pass them but with the utmost difficulty, 
 because the ice broke, and cut the sinews of their 
 legs. Besides, the greatest part of their march \ 
 was through close and woody roads, where the j 
 
35 ^ 
 
 FLUTARCirS LIVES, 
 
 troops were daily wet with the snow that lodged 
 upon the trees ; and they had only damp places 
 wherein to pass the night. 
 
 They had not, therefore, followed Lucullus 
 many days be. ore they began to be refractory. 
 At first they had recourse to entreaties, and sent 
 their tribunes to intercede for them. Afterwards 
 they met in a more tumultuous manner, and their 
 murmurs were heard all over the camp by night ; 
 and this, perhaps, is the surest token of a mutiny. 
 Lucullus tried what every milder measure could 
 do ; he exhorted them only to compose themselves 
 a little longer, until they had destroyed the 
 Armenian Carthage, built by Hannibal, the 
 greatest enemy to the Roman name. But, finding 
 his eloquence ineffec ual, he marched back, and 
 passed the huge of Mount Taurus another way. 
 He came down into Mygdonia, an open and fertile 
 country, where stands a great and populous city, 
 which the barbarians called Nisibis, and the 
 Greeks Antioch of Mygdonia.* Gouras, brother 
 to Tigranes, had the title of governor, on account 
 of his dignity : but the commander in fact was 
 Callimachus, who, by his great abilities as an 
 engineer, had given Lucullus so much trouble at 
 Amisus. 
 
 Lucullus, having invested the place, availed 
 himself of all the arts that are used in a siege, and 
 pressed the place with so much vigour that he 
 carried it sword in hand. Gouras surrendered 
 himself, and he treated him with great humanity. 
 He would not, however, listen to Callimachus, 
 though he offered to discover to him a vast quantity 
 of hidden treasure ; but put him in fetters, in 
 order that he might suffer capital punishment for 
 setting fire to the city of Amisus, and by that 
 means depriving him of the honour of showing his 
 clemency to the Greeks. 
 
 Hitherto one might say, fortune had followed 
 Lucullus, and fought for him. But from this 
 time the gales of her favour fell ; he could do 
 nothing but with infinite difficulty, and struck 
 upon every rock in his way. He behaved, indeed, 
 with all the valour and persevering spirit of a 
 good general, but his actions had no longer their 
 wonted glory and favourable acceptance with the 
 world. Nay, tossed as he was on the waves of 
 fruitless contention, he was in danger of losing 
 the glory he had already acquired. For great 
 part of his misfortunes he might blame himself, 
 because, in the first place, he would never study 
 to oblige the common soldiers, but looked upon 
 every compliance with their inclinations as the 
 source of his disgrace and the destruction of his 
 authority. What was of still greater consequence, 
 he could not behave in an easy affable manner to 
 those who were upon a footing with him in point of 
 rank and birth, but treated them with haughtiness, 
 and considered himself as greatly their superior. 
 These blemishes Lucullus had amidst many 
 perfections. He was tali, well made, graceful, 
 eloquent, and had abilities for the administration 
 as well as lor the field. 
 
 Sallust tells us, the soldiers were ill-affected to 
 him from the beginning, because he forced them 
 to keep the field two winters together, one at 
 Cyzicus, and the other at Amisus. The following 
 winters were no less disagreeable to them, as they 
 
 * It was called Antioch, because in its delicious 
 walks and pleasing situation it resembled the 
 Antioch of Daphne, 
 
 spent them either in actual war, or in their tents ; 
 for Lucullus, during the whole time of his c.x- 
 peditions, would not suffer his troops to quarter 
 in any city of the Greeks that was an ally. 
 
 While the soldiers were of themselves thus 
 ill-disposed, they were made still more mutinous 
 by the demagogues at home ; who, through envy 
 to Lucullus, accused him of protracting the war 
 from a love of command and of the riches it 
 procured him. He had almost the entire direc-' 
 tion, they said, of Cilicia, Asia, Bithynia, 
 Paphlagonia, Galatia, Pontus, Armenia, and all 
 the provinces as far as the Phasis : and now he 
 was pillaging the royal palaces of Tigranes, as 
 if he had been sent to strip, not to subdue kings. 
 So Lucius Quintius, one of the tribunes, is said 
 to have expressed himself ; the same who was 
 principally concerned in procuring a decree that 
 Lucullus should have a successor sent him, and 
 that most of his troops should have their dis- 
 charge. 
 
 To these misfortunes was added another, 
 which absolutely ruined the affairs of Lucullus. 
 Publius Clodius, a man of the utmost insolence 
 and effrontery, was brother to his wife, who was 
 so abandoned a woman that it was believed she 
 had a criminal commerce with him. He now 
 bore arms under Lucullus, and imagined he had 
 not the post he deserved ; for he wanted the 
 first ; and on account of his disorderly life, many 
 were put before him. Finding this, he practised 
 with the Fimbrian troops, and endeavoured to 
 set them against Lucullus, by flattering speeches 
 and insinuations, to which they were neither 
 unaccustomed nor unwilling to attend. For 
 these were the men whom Fimbria had formerly 
 persuaded to kill the consul Flaccus, and to 
 appoint him their general. Still retaining such 
 inclinations, they received Clodius with pleasup, 
 and called him the soldier’s friend. _He did, 
 indeed, pretend to be concerned at their suffer- 
 ings, and used to say; “Shall there no period 
 be put to their wars and toils ; shall they go on 
 fighting one nation after another, and wear out 
 their lives in wandering over the world? And 
 what is the reward of so many laborious expe- 
 ditions ? what, but to guard the waggons and 
 camels of Lucullus, loaded with cups of gold and 
 .precious stones? Whereas Pompey’s soldiers, 
 already discharged, sit down with their wives 
 and children upon fertile estates, and in agree- 
 able towns ; not for having driven Mithridates 
 and Tigranes into inaccessible deserts, and de- 
 stroying the royal cities in Asia, but for fighting 
 with fugitives in Spain and slaves in Italy. If 
 we must for ever have our swords in our hands, 
 let us reserve all our hearts, and what remains of 
 our limbs, for a general who thinks the wealth of 
 his men his greatest ornament.” 
 
 These complaints against Lucullus corrupted 
 his soldiers in such a manner, that they would 
 neither follow him against Tigranes, nor yet 
 against Mithridates, who from Armenia had 
 thrown himself into Pontus, and was beginning 
 to recover his authority there. They pretended 
 it was impracticable to march in the winter, 
 and therefore loitered in Gordyene, expecting 
 Pompey or some other general would come as 
 successor to Lucullus. But when intelligence 
 was brought that Mithridates had defeated 
 Fabius, and was marching against Sornatius and 
 Triarius, they were ashamed of their inaction. 
 
LUCULLUS. 
 
 357 
 
 and told Lucullus he might lead them wherever 
 he pleased. 
 
 Triarius being informed of the approach of 
 Lucullus, was ambitious, before he arrived, to 
 seize the victory which he thought perfectly 
 secure ; in consequence of which he hazarded 
 and lost a great battle. It is said that about 7000 
 Romans were killed, among whom were 150 
 centurions, and 24 tribunes. Mithridates like- 
 wise took their camp. Lucullus arrived a few 
 days after, fortunately enough for Triarius, whom 
 he concealed from the soldiers, who wanted to 
 wreak their vengeance upon him. 
 
 As Mithridates avoided an action with LucuL 
 lus, and chose to wait for Tigranes, who was 
 coming with a great army, Lucullus, in order to 
 prevent their junction, determined to go in quest 
 of Tigranes once more. But as he was upon the 
 march, the Fimbrians mutinied and deserted his 
 standard, alleging that they were discharged by 
 an express decree, and no longer obliged to serve- 
 under Lucullus, when those provinces were con- 
 signed to another. Lucullus, on this occasion, 
 submitted to many things beneath his dignity. 
 He applied to the private men one by one, going 
 round to their tents with a supplicating aspect 
 and with tears in his eyes ; nay, he condescended 
 to take some of them by the hand. But they 
 rejected all his advances, and throwing down 
 their empty purses before him, bade him go and 
 fight the enemy himself, since he was the only 
 person that knew how to make his advantage of it. 
 
 However, as the other soldiers interposed, the 
 Fimbrians were prevailed upon to stay all the 
 summer, on condition that if no enemy faced 
 them in the field during that time, they should 
 be at liberty to retire. Lucullus was obliged 
 either to accept this proposal or to abandon the 
 country, and to leave it an easy prey to the 
 barbarians. He kept the troops together, there- 
 fore, without pretending to exercise any act of 
 power upon them, or to lead them out to battle ; 
 thinking it all he could expect, if they would but 
 remain upon the spot. At the same time he 
 looked on, while Tigranes was ravaging Cappa- 
 docia, and Mithridates was growing strong and 
 insolent again ; though he had acquainted the 
 senate by letter, that he was absolutely con- 
 quered, and deputies were come to settle the 
 affairs of Pontus, as a province entirely reduced. 
 These deputies, on their arrival, found that he 
 was not even master of himself, but exposed to 
 every instance of' insult and contempt from his 
 own soldiers. Nay, they treated their general 
 with such wanton mockery, as, when the summer 
 was passed, to arm, and challenge the enemy, 
 who were now retired into quarters. They 
 shouted as in the charge, made passes in the 
 air, and then left the camp, calling Lucullus to 
 witness that they had stayed the time they pro- 
 mised him. 
 
 Pompey wrote to the other legions to attend 
 him. For, through his interest with the people, 
 and the flattering insinuations of the orators, he 
 was already appointed general against Mithri- 
 dates and Tigranes. To the senate, indeed, and 
 all the best of the Romans, Lucullus appeared 
 to have very hard treatment, since a person was 
 sent to succeed him, not so much in the war as 
 in his triumph ; and he was robbed rather of the 
 prize of honour than of the command. Those 
 that were upon the spot found the matter still 
 
 more invidious. Lucullus had no longer the 
 power either of rewarding or punishing. Pom- 
 pey suffered no man to wait upon him about any 
 business whatever, or to pay any regard to the 
 regulations he had made in concurrence with the 
 ten commissioners. He forbade it by express and 
 public orders ; and his influence was great, on ac- 
 count of his coming with a more respectable army. 
 
 Yet their friends thought it proper that they 
 should come to an interview ; and accordingly 
 they did so in a village of Galatia. They ad- 
 dressed each other with much politeness, and 
 with mutual compliments on their great success. 
 Lucullus was the older man, but Pompey had 
 superior dignity, for he had commanded in more 
 wars, and had been honoured with two triumph.s. 
 Each had the fasces carried before him, adorned 
 with a laurel on account of their respective 
 victories : but as Pompey had travelled a long 
 way through dry and parched countries, the 
 laurels about his fasces were withered. The 
 lictors that preceded Lucullus observing this, 
 freely gave them a sufficient quantity of their 
 fresh and green ones ; which Pompey’s friends 
 considered as an auspicious circumstance. And, 
 in fact, the great actions of Lucullus did cast a 
 lustre over this expedition of Pompey. 
 
 This interview, however, had no good effect ; 
 they parted with greater rancour in their hearts 
 than they entertained at their meeting. Pompey 
 annulled the acts of Lucullus ; and taking the 
 rest of his troops from him, left him only 1600 
 men for his triumph ; and even these followed 
 him with reluctance. So ill qualified, or so 
 unfortunate, was Lucullus, with respect to the 
 first and greatest requisite in a general, gaining 
 the hearts of his soldiers. Had this been added 
 to his many other great and admirable talents, 
 his courage, his vigilance, his prudence, and 
 justice, the Roman empire would not have been 
 terminated, on the side of Asia, by the Euph- 
 rates, but by the Hyrcanian sea and the ex- 
 tremities of the earth. For Tigranes had already 
 conquered the other nations ; and the power of 
 the Parthians was neither so gre t nor so united 
 in itself, during this expedition of Lucullus, as it 
 was afterwards in the time of Crassus. On the 
 contrary, they were weakened by intestine wars 
 and by hostilities with their neighbours, inso- 
 much that they were not able to repel the insults 
 of the Armenians. In my opinion, indeed, the 
 advantages which his country reaped from Lu- 
 cullus were not equivalent to the calamities 
 which he occasioned others to bring upon it. 
 The trophies of Armenia, just in the neighbour- 
 hood of Parthia, the palms of Tigranocerta and 
 Nisibis, with all their vast wealth carried in 
 triumph to Rome, and the captive diadem of 
 Tigranes adorning the show, drew Crassus into 
 Asia ; as if its barbarous inhabitants I ad been a 
 sure and easy prey. However, when he met the 
 Parthian arrows, he soon found that the success 
 of Lucullus was owing to his own courage and 
 capacity, and not to the folly and effeminacy of 
 the enemy. 
 
 Upon his return to Rome, Lucullus found His 
 brother Marcus impeached by Memmius, for the 
 practices he had given into during his quaestor- 
 ship,- by order of Sylla. And when Marcus was 
 acquitted, Memmius turned against Lucullus 
 himself ; alleging that he had converted a great 
 deal of the booty to his own private use, and had 
 
3S8 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 wilfully protracted the war. By these means he 
 endeavoured to exasperate the people against 
 him, and to prevail with them to refuse him his 
 triumph. Lucullus was in great danger of losing 
 it ; but at this crisis, the first and greatest men 
 in Rome mixed with the tribes, and, after much 
 canvassing and the most engaging application, 
 with great difficulty procured him the triumph. 
 
 Its glory did not consist like that of others in 
 the length of the procession, or in tlie astonishing 
 pomp and quantity of spoils, but in exhii iting 
 tlie enemy’s arms, the ensigns and other warlike 
 equipage of the kings. With these he had 
 adorned the Circus Flaminius, and they made 
 a very agreeablj and respectable show. In the 
 procession there were a few of the heavy armed 
 cavalry, and ten chariots armed with scythes. 
 'I hese were followed by sixty grandees, either 
 friends or lieutenants of the ki. gs. After them 
 were drawn no galleys with brazen beaks. The 
 next objects were a statue of Mithridates in 
 massy gold, full six feet high, and his shield set 
 with precious stones. Then came up twenty 
 exhibitions of silver vessels, and two and thirty 
 more of gold cups, arms, and gold coin. All 
 these things were borne by men. These were 
 followed by eight mules which carried beds of 
 gold, and fifty-six more loaded with silver bul- 
 lion. After these came 107 other mules, bearing 
 silver coin to the amount of near 2,700,000 
 drachmas. The procession was closed with the 
 registers of the money with which he had fur- 
 nished Pompey for the war with the pirates, 
 what he had rem tted toe qiisestoi's for the public 
 treasury, and the distributions he had made 
 among the soldiers at the rate of 950 drachmas 
 each man. The triumph concluded with a mag- 
 nific-nt entertainment provided for the whole city 
 and the adjacent villages. 
 
 He now divorced Clodia for her infamous in- 
 trigues, and married Servilia the sister of Cato, 
 but this second match was not more fortunate 
 than the first. Servilia wanted no stain which 
 Clodia had, except that of a commerce with her 
 brothers. In other respects she was equally 
 profligate and abominable. He forced himself^ 
 however, to endure her a long time out of reve- 
 rence to Cato, but at last repudiated her too. 
 
 The senate had conceived great hopes of Lu- 
 cullus, that he would prove a counterpoise to the 
 tyranny of Pompey, and a protector of the whole 
 patrician order; the rather because he had ac- 
 quired so much honour and authority by his 
 great actions. He gave up the cause, however, 
 and quitted all pretensions to the administration : 
 whether it was that he saw the constitution in too 
 sickly and declining a condition to be corrected ; 
 or whether, as others will have it, that being 
 satiated with public honours, and having gone 
 through many labours and conflicts which had 
 not the most fortunate issue, he chose to retire to 
 a life of ease and indulgence. And they com- 
 mend this change in his conduct, as much better 
 than the distempered measures of Marius ; who, 
 after his victories over the Cimbri and all his 
 glorious achievements, was not content with the 
 admiration of his countrymen, but from an in- 
 satiable thirst of power, contended, in the decline 
 of life, with the ambition of young men, falling 
 into dreadful crimes, and into sufferings still more 
 dreadful. “ How much happier,” said they, 
 “would it have been for Cicero if he had retired 
 
 after the affair of Catiline ; and for Scipio, if he had 
 furled his sails, when he had added Numantia to 
 Carthage. For there is a period when we should 
 bid adieu to political contests ; these, as well as 
 those of wrestlers, being absurd, when the strength 
 and vigour of life is gone.” 
 
 On the other hand, Crassus and Pompey ridi- 
 culed Lucullus for giving in to a life of pleasure 
 and expense ; thinking it full as unseasonable at 
 his tune of life to plunge into luxury, as to direct 
 the administration or lead armies into the field. 
 Indeed, the life of Lucullus does look like the 
 ancient comedy,* where first we .see great actions, 
 both political and mditary, and afterwards feasus, 
 debauches (I had almost said masquerades), 
 races by torch-light, and every kind of frivolous 
 amusement. For among frivolous amusements 
 I cannot but reckon his sumptuous villas, walks, 
 and baths, and still more so, the paintings, 
 statues, and other works of art, which he collected 
 at an immense expen.se ; idly squandering away 
 upon them the vast fortune which he had amassed 
 in the wars.f Insomuch, that even now, when 
 luxury has made so much greater advances, the 
 gardens of Lucullus are numbered with those of 
 kings, and the most magnificent even of those. 
 When Tubero, the stoic, beheld his works on 
 the sea-coast near Naples, the hills he had 
 excavated for vaults and cellars, the reservoirs he 
 had formed about his houses, to receive the sea 
 for the feeding of his fish, and his edifices in the 
 sea itself ; the philosopher called him Xerxes in 
 a gown. I; Beside these, he had the most superb 
 pleasure houses in the country near Tusculum, 
 adorned with grand galleries and open saloons, 
 as well for the prospect as for walks. Pompey, 
 on a visit there, blamed Lucullus for having made 
 the vida commodious only for the summer, and 
 absolutely uninhabitable in the winter. Lucullus 
 answered with a smile, “ What then, do you 
 think I have not so much sense as the cranes 
 and storks, which change their habitations with 
 the seasons ? ” 
 
 A praetor, who wanted to e.xhibit magnificent 
 games, applied to Lucullus for some purple robes 
 for the chorus in his tragedy ; and he told him, 
 he would inquire, whether he could furnish him 
 or not. Next day he asked how many he wanted. 
 The praetor answered, “ A hundred would be 
 sufficient : ” upon which Lucullus said, he might 
 have twice that number if he pleased. The poet 
 Horace makes this remark on the occasion — 
 
 Poor is the house, where plenty has not stores 
 That miss the master’s eye. 
 
 * The ancient satirical or comic pieces were 
 partly tragical, and partly comical. The Cyclops 
 of Euripides is the only piece of that kind which 
 is extant. 
 
 t Plutarch’s philosophy seems a little too severe 
 on this occasion ; for it is not easy to see how 
 public fortunes of this kind can be more properly 
 laid out than in the encouragement of the arts. 
 It is to be observed, however, that the immense 
 wealth Lucullus reserved to himself in his Asiatic 
 expedition, in some measure justifies the com- 
 plaints of his army on that subject. 
 
 X This refers to the hills Lucullus bored for the 
 completion of his vaults, or for the admission of 
 water. Xerxes had bored through Mount Athos, 
 and made a passage under it for his ships. 
 
LUCULLUS. 
 
 3S9 
 
 His daily repasts were like those of a man sud- 
 denlj grown rich ; pompous not only in the beds 
 which were covered with purple carpets, the 
 sideboards of plate set with precious stones, and 
 al’ the entertainment which musicians and come- 
 dians could furnish ; but in vast variety and 
 exquisite dressing of the provisions. These 
 things excited the admiration of men of un- 
 enlarged minds. Pompey, therefore, was highly 
 applauded for the answer he gave his physician 
 in a fit of sickness. The physician had ordered 
 him to eat a thrush, and his servants told him, 
 that as it was summer, there were no thrushes to 
 be found except in the menageries of Lucullus. 
 But he would not suffer them to apply for them 
 there ; and said to his physician, “ Must Pompey 
 then have died, if Lucullus had not been an 
 epicure?" At the same time, he bade them 
 provide him something which was to be had 
 without difficulty, 
 
 Cato, though he was a friend, as well as a 
 relation, to Lucullus, was so much displeased 
 with the luxury in which he lived, that when a 
 young man made a long and unseasonable speech 
 in the house about frugality and temperance, 
 Cato rose up and said, “ Will you never have 
 done ? Do you, who have the wealth of Crassus, 
 and live like Lucullus, pretend to speak like 
 Cato ? " But some, though they allow that there 
 was such a rebuke, say it came from another 
 person. 
 
 lhat Lucullus was not only delighted with this 
 way of living, but even piqued himself upon it, 
 appears from several of his remarkable sayings. 
 He entertained for a considerable time some 
 Greeks who had travelled to Rome, till remem- 
 bering the simplicity of diet in their own country, 
 they were ashamed to wait on him any longer, 
 and desired to be excused on account of the daily 
 expense they brought upon him. He smiled, and 
 said, “ It is true, my Grecian friends, some part 
 of this provision is for you, but the greatest part 
 is for Lucullus." Another time, when he hap- 
 pened to sup alone, and saw but one table and a 
 very moderate provision, he called the servant 
 who had the care of these matters, and expressed 
 his dissatisfaction. The servant said he thought, 
 as nobody was invited, his master would not want 
 
 an expensive supper. “ What ! ’’ said he, “ didst 
 thou not know that this evening Lucullus sups 
 with Lucullus?" As this was the subject of much 
 conversation in Rome, Cicero and Rompey ad- 
 dressed him one day in the fortmi, when he 
 appeared to be perfectly disengaged. Cicero was 
 one of his most intimate friends, and though he 
 had some difference with Pompey about the 
 command of the army, yet they used to see each 
 other, and converse freely and familiarly. Cicero, 
 after the common salutations, asked him whether 
 leisure to see company. He answered. 
 Nothing could be more agreeable,” and pressed 
 them to corne to his house. “ Then we will wait 
 on you," said Cicero, “ this evening, on condition 
 you give^ us nothing but what is provided for 
 yourself." Lucullus made some difficulty of 
 a^epiing the condition, and desired them to put 
 off their favour till another day. But they in- 
 sisted It should be that very evening, and would 
 suffer him to speak to his servants, lest he 
 Should order some addition to the supper. Only 
 at his request, they allowed him to tell one of 
 them in their presence, he would sup that evening 
 
 in the Apollo ; which was the name of one of his 
 most magnificent rooms. The persons invited 
 ” r stratagem ; but, it seems, 
 
 each of his dining-rooms had its particular allow- 
 ance for provisions, and service of plate, as well 
 as other furniture. So that the servants hearing 
 what room he would sup in, knew very well what 
 expense they were to go to, and what sideboard 
 and carpets they were to use. The stated charge 
 of an entertainment in the Apollo was 50,000 
 drachmas, and the whole sum was laid out that 
 evening. Pompey, of course, when he saw so 
 vast and expensive a provision, was surprised at 
 the expedition with which it was prepared. In 
 this respect, Lucullus used his riches with all the 
 disregard one might expect to be shown to so 
 many captives and barbarians. 
 
 But the great expense he incurred in collecting 
 books deserves a serious approbation. The number 
 of volumes was great, and they were written in 
 elegant hands ; yet the use he made of them 
 was more honourable than the acquisition. His 
 libraries were open to all : the Greeks repaired 
 at pleasure to the galleries and porticos, as to the 
 retreat of the Muses, and there spent whole days 
 in conversation on matters of learning ; delighted 
 to retire to such a .scene from business and from 
 care. Lucullus himself often joined these learned 
 men in their walks, and conferred with them ; 
 and when he was applied to about the affairs of 
 their country, he gave them his assistance and 
 advice. So that his house was in fact an asylum 
 and senate-house to all the Greeks that visited 
 Rome. 
 
 He had a veneration for philosophy in genera, 
 and there was no sect which he absolutely re- 
 jected. But h;s principal and original attachment 
 was to the Academy ; not that which is called the 
 psvvq though that flourished and was supported 
 u who walked in the steps of Carneades ; 
 
 but the old Academy, whose doctrines were then 
 taught by Antiochus of Ascalon, a man of the 
 most persuasive powers. Lucullus sought his 
 friendship with great avidity ; and having pre- 
 vailed with him to give him his company, set 
 mill to oppose the di.sciples of Philo. Cicero was 
 of the number, and wrote an ingenious book 
 against the old Academy, in which he makes 
 Lucullus defend the principal doctrine in dis- 
 pute namely, that there is such a thing as certain 
 knowledge, and himself maintains the contrary, 
 ihe book is entitled Lucullus. They were, 
 indeed, as we have observed, sincere friends, and 
 acted upon the same principle in the administra- 
 tion. For Liucullus had not entirely abandoned 
 the concerns of government ; he only gave up 
 the point as to the first influence and direction. 
 
 1 he contest for that, he saw, might be attended 
 not only with danger but disgrace, and therefore 
 Me soon left it to Crassus and Cato. When he 
 had refused to take the lead, those who looked 
 upon the power of Pompey with a suspicious eye, 
 pitched upon Crassus and Cato to support the 
 patrician intere.sts. Lucullus, notwithstanding, 
 gave his attendance in the Jorum, when the busi- 
 ness of his fnends required it ; and he did the 
 same in the senate-house, when there was any 
 ambitious design of Pompey to combat. He got 
 Pompey s orders annulled, which he had made 
 after the conquest of the two kings j and with 
 the assistance of Cato, threw out his bill for a, 
 distribution of lands among his veterans. 
 
^6o 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 This threw Pompey into the arms of Crassus 
 and Cccsar, or rather he conspired with them 
 against the commonwealth ; - and having filled 
 the city with soldiers, drove Cato and Lucullus 
 out of l)\^ fornjn, and got his acts established by 
 force. 
 
 As these proceedings were highly resented by 
 all who had the interest of their country at heart, 
 Pompey ’s party instructed one Vectius to act a 
 part ; and gave it out that they had detected him 
 in a design against Pompey’s life. When Vectius 
 was examined in the senate, he said, it was at 
 the instigation of others ; but in the assembly of 
 the people he affirmed, Lucullus was the man 
 who put him upon it. No one gave credit to the 
 assertion ; and a few days after, it was very 
 evident that the wretch was suborned to accuse 
 an innocent man, when his dead body was thrown 
 out of the prison. Pompey’s party said, he had 
 laid violent hands upon himself; but the marks 
 of the cord that had strangled him, and of the 
 blows he had received, showed plainly that he 
 was killed by the persons who suborned him. 
 
 This event made Lucullus still more unwilling 
 to interlere in the concerns of government ; and 
 when Cicero was banished, and Cato sent to 
 Cyprus, he quitted them entirely. It is said, 
 that his understanding gradually failed, and that 
 before his death it was absolutely gone. Cor- 
 
 nelius Nepos, indeed, asserts, that this failure 
 of his intellect was not owing to sickness or old 
 age, but to a potion given him by an enfran- 
 chised slave of his, named Callisthenes. Nor did 
 Callisthenes give it him as a poison, but as a love 
 potion. However, instead of conciliating his 
 master’s regards to him, it deprived him of his 
 senses ; so that during the last years of his life, 
 his brother had the care of his estate. 
 
 Nevertheless, when he died, he was as much 
 regretted by the people, as if he had departed in 
 that height of glory to which his merit in war 
 and in the administration had raised him. They 
 crowded to the procession ; and the body being 
 carried into the forum by some young men of 
 the first quality, they insisted, it should be buried 
 in the ca7jipus martins, as that of Sylla had been. 
 As this was a motion entirely unexpected, and 
 the preparations for the funeral there could not 
 easily be made, his brother, with much entreaty, 
 prevailed with them to have the obsequies per- 
 formed on the Tusculan estate, where everything 
 was provided for that purpose. Nor did he long 
 survive him. As he had followed him close in 
 the course of years and honours, so he was not 
 far behind him in his journey to the grave; to 
 which he bore the character of the best and most 
 affectionate of brothers. 
 
 CIMON AND LUCULLUS COMPARED. 
 
 We cannot but think the exit of Lucullus happy, 
 as he did not live to see that change in the con- 
 stitution which fate was preparing for his country 
 in the civil wars. Though the commonwealth 
 was in a sickly state, yet he left it free. In this 
 respect the case of Cimon was particularly similar. 
 For he died while Greece was at the height of 
 her prosperity, and be; ore she was involved in 
 those troubles which proved so fatal to her. It 
 is true there is this difference, Cimon died in his 
 camp, in the office of general ; not like a man, 
 who, fatigued with war, and avoiding its conflicts, 
 sought the reward of his military labours and of 
 the laurels he had won, in the delicacies of the 
 table and the joys of wine. In this view Plato 
 was right in the censure of the followers of 
 Orpheus,* who had placed the rewards of futurity 
 provided for the good, in everlasting intoxication. 
 No doubt, ease, tranquility, literary researches, 
 and the pleasures of contemplation, furnish the 
 rnost suitable retreat for a man in years, who has 
 bid adieu to military and political pursuits. But 
 to propose pleasure as the end of great achieve- 
 ments, and, after long expeditions and commands, 
 to lead up the dance of Venus, and riot in her 
 smiles, was so far from being worthy of the famed 
 academy, and a follower of the sage Xenocrates, 
 that it rather became a disciple of Epicurus. 
 This is the more surprising, because Cimon 
 seems to have spent his youth in luxury and 
 dissipation, and Lucullus in letters and sobriety. 
 
 * The passage here alluded to is in the second 
 book of Plato’s Republic. Plato censures not 
 Orpheus, but Musaeus and his son, for teaching 
 this doctrine. Musaeus and his son Eumolpus 
 were, however, disciples of Orpheus. 
 
 It is certainly another thing, notwithstanding, 
 to change for the better, and happier is the nature 
 in which vices gradually die, and virtue flourishes. 
 
 They were equally wealthy, but did not apply 
 their riches to the same purposes. For we can- 
 not compare the palace at Naples and the Belvi- 
 deres amidst the water, which Lucullus erected 
 with the barbarian spoils, to the south wall 
 of the citadel which Cimon built with the 
 treasure he brought from the wars. Nor can the 
 sumptuous table of Lucullus, which savoured too 
 much of Eastern magnificence, be put in compe- 
 tition with the open and benevolent table of 
 Cimon. The one, at a moderate charge, daily 
 nourished great numbers of poor; the other, at 
 a vast expense, pleased the appetites of a few 
 of the rich and the voluptuous. Perhaps, indeed, 
 some allowance must be made for the difference 
 of the time. We know not, whether Cimon, if 
 he had lived to be old, and retired from the con- 
 cerns of war and of the state, might not have 
 given in to a more pompous and luxurious way of 
 living : for he naturally loved wine and com- 
 pany, was a promoter of public feasts and games, 
 and remarkable, as we have observed, for his 
 inclination for the sex. But glorious enterprises 
 and great actions, being attended with pleasures 
 of another kind, leave no leisure for inferior 
 gratifications ; nay, they banish them from the 
 thoughts of persons of great abilities for the field 
 and the cabinet. And if Lucullus had finished 
 his days in high commands and amidst the 
 conflicts of war, I am persuaded the most envious 
 caviller could have found nothing to reproach 
 him with. So much with respect to their wav 
 of Hying. 
 
 As to their military character, it is certain 
 
NICIAS. 
 
 they were able commanders both at sea and land. 
 But as the champions, who in one day gained 
 the garland not only in wrestling but in the Pan- 
 cration, * are not simply called victors, but by 
 the custom of the games, the Jlowers of the vic- 
 tory ; so Cimon, having crowned Greece with two 
 victories gained in one day, the one at land, the 
 other a naval one, deserves some preference in 
 the list of generals. 
 
 Lucullus was indebted to his country for his 
 power, and Cimon promoted the power of his 
 country. The one found Rome commanding 
 the allies, and under her auspices extended her 
 conquests ; the other found Athens obeying in- 
 stead of cornmanding, and yet gained her the 
 chief authority among her allies, as well as 
 conquered her enemies. The Persians he de- 
 feated, and drove them out of the sea, and he 
 persuaded the Lacedaemonians voluntarily to 
 surrender the command. 
 
 _ If it be the greatest work of a general to bring 
 his men to obey him from a principle of affection, 
 we shall find Lucullus greatly deficient in this 
 respect. He was despised by his own troops, 
 whereas Cimon commanded the veneration, not 
 only of his own soldiers, but of all the allies. 
 The former was deserted by his own, and the 
 latter was courted by strangers. The one set 
 out with a fine army, and returned alone, aban- 
 doned by that army ; the other went out with 
 troops subject to the orders they should receive 
 from another general, and at his return they 
 were at the head of the whole league. Thus he 
 gained three of the most difficult points imagin- 
 able, peace with the enemy, the lead among the 
 allies, and a good understanding with Sparta. 
 
 They both attempted to conquer great king- 
 doms, and to subdue all Asia, but their purposes 
 were unsuccessful. Cimon’s course was stopped 
 by fortune ; he died with his commission in 
 his hand, and in the height of his prosperity. 
 Lucullus, on the other hand, cannot possibly be 
 excused, as to the loss of his authority, since he 
 must either have been ignorant of the grievances 
 of his army, which ended in so incurable an 
 aversion, or unwilling to redress them. 
 
 This he has in common with Cimon, that he 
 was impeached by his countrymen. The Athe- 
 nians, it is true, went farther ; they banished 
 Cimon by the ostracism, that they might not, as 
 Plato expresses it, hear his voice for ten years. 
 Indeed, the proceedings of the aristocratical 
 party are seldom acceptable to the people ; for 
 while they are obliged to use some violence for 
 the correction of what is amiss, their measures 
 
 The Pancration consisted of boxing and 
 wrestling together. 
 
 361 
 
 resemble the bandages of surgeons, which are 
 uneasy at the same time that they reduce the 
 dislocation. But in this respect perhaps we may 
 exculpate both the one and the other. 
 
 Lucullus carried his arms much the farthest. 
 He was the first who led a Roman army over 
 Mount Taurus, and passed the Tigris. He took 
 and burned the royal cities of Asia, Tigranocerta, 
 Cabira, Sinope, Nisibis, in the sight of their re- 
 spective kings. On the north he penetrated as 
 far as the Phasis, on the east to Media, and on 
 the south to the Red Sea, by the favour and 
 assistance of the princes of Arabia. He over- 
 threw the armies of the two great kings, and 
 would certainly have taken them, had they not 
 fled, like savages, into distant solitudes and in- 
 accessible woods. A certain proof of the advan- 
 tage Lucullus had in this respect, is, that the 
 Persians, as if they had suffered nothing from 
 Cimon, soon made head against the Greeks, and 
 cut in pieces a great army of theirs in Egypt ; 
 whereas Tigranes and Mithridates could effect 
 nothing after the blow they had received from 
 Lucullus. Mithridates, enfeebled by the conflicts 
 he had undergone, did not once venture to face 
 Pompey in the field : instead of that, he fled to 
 the Bosphorus, and there put a period to his life. 
 As for Tigranes, he delivered himself, naked and 
 unarmed, to Pompey, took his diadem from his 
 head, and laid it at his feet ; in which he compli- 
 mented Pompey, not with what was his own, but 
 with what belonged to the laurels of Lucullus. 
 The poor prince, by the joy with which he re- 
 ceived the ensigns of royalty again, confessed 
 that he had absolutely lost them. However, he 
 must be deemed the greater general, as well as 
 the greater champion, who delivers his adversary, 
 weak and breathless, to the next combatant. 
 
 Besides, Cimon found the king of Persia ex- 
 tremely weakened, and the pride of his people 
 humbled, by the losses and defeats they had ex- 
 perienced from Themistocles, Pausanias, and 
 Leotychidas; and their hands could not make 
 much resistance, when their hearts were gone. 
 But Lucullus met Tigranes fresh and unfoiled, 
 elated and exulting in the battles he had fought 
 and the victories he had won. Nor is the number 
 of the enemy’s troops which Cimon defeated, in 
 the least to be compared to that of those who 
 gave battle to Lucullus. 
 
 In short, when we weigh all the advantages of 
 each of these great men, it is hard to say to which 
 side the balance inclines. Heaven appears to 
 have favoured both ; directing the one to what 
 he should do, and warning the other what he 
 should avoid. So that the gods bore witness of 
 their virtue, and regarded them as persons in 
 whom there was something divine. 
 
 NICIAS. 
 
 We have pitched upon Crassus, as a proper per- 
 son to be put in parallel with Nicias ; and the 
 rnisfortunes which befell the one in Parthia, with 
 those which overtook the other in Sicily. But 
 we have an apology to make to the reader on 
 another account. As we are now undertaking a 
 history, where_ Thucydides in the pathetic has 
 even outdone himself, and in energy and variety 
 of composition is perfectly inimitable ; we hope 
 
 no one will suspect we have the ambition of 
 Timaeus, who flattered himself he could exceed 
 the power of Thucydides, and make Philistus t 
 pass for an inelegant and ordinary writer. Under 
 the influence of that deception, Timaeus plunges 
 into the midst of the battles both at sea and 
 
 t Philistus was so able a writer that Cicero 
 calls him the younger Thucydides. 
 
362 . PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 land, and speeches in which those historians 
 shine the most. However, he soon appears — 
 
 Not like a footman by the Lydian ear- 
 ns Pindar expresses it, but a shallow puerile 
 writer ; * * * § * or, to use the words of the poet 
 Diphilus— 
 
 A heavy animal 
 Cased in Sicilian lard. 
 
 Sometimes he falls into the dreams of Xen- 
 archus : t as where he says, he could not but 
 consider it as a bad omen for the Athenians, that 
 they had a general with a name derived from 
 victory, J who disapproved the expedition. As 
 also, that by the mutilation of the Hermse, the 
 gods presignified that they should suffer most in 
 the Syracusan war from Hermocrates the son of 
 Hermon.§ And again, “ It is probable that 
 Hercules assisted the Syracusans, because Pro- 
 serpine delivered up Cerberus to him ; and that 
 he was offended at the Athenians for supporting 
 the iLgesteans, who were descended from the 
 Trojans, his mortal enemies, whose city he had 
 sacked, in revenge for the injuries he had re- 
 ceived from Laomedon.” He made these fine 
 observations witli the same discernment which 
 put him upon finding fault with the language of 
 Philistus, and censuring the writings of Plato 
 and Aristotle. 
 
 For my part, I cannot but think, all emulation 
 and jealousy about expression betrays a little- 
 ness of mind, and is the characteristic of a 
 sophist ; and when that spirit of contest attempts 
 things inimitable, it is perfectly absurd. Since, 
 therefore, it is impossible to pass over in silence 
 those actions of Nicias which Thucydides and 
 Philistus have recorded ; especially such as indi- 
 cate his manners and disposition, which often lay 
 concealed under the weight of his misfortunes ; 
 we shall give an abstract from them of what 
 appears most necessary, lest we should be accused 
 of negligence or indolence. As for other matters 
 not generally known, which are found scattered 
 in historians, or in ancient inscriptions and de- 
 crees, we shall collect them with care ; not to 
 gratify a useless curiosity, but by drawing from 
 them the true lines of this general’s character, to 
 serve the purposes of real instruction. 
 
 The first thing I shall mention relating to him, 
 is the observation of Aristotle : that three of the 
 most worthy men in Athens, who had a paternal 
 regard and friendship for the people, were Nicias 
 the son of Niceratus, Thucydides the son of 
 
 * Timseus might have his vanity ; and, if he 
 hoped to excel Thucydides, he certainly had. 
 Yet Cicero and Diodorus speak of him as a very 
 able historian. Longinus reconciles the censure 
 and the praise. He says, sometimes you find 
 him in the grand and sublime. But, blind to his 
 own defects, he is much inclined to censure 
 others, and is so fond of thinking out of the 
 common road, that he often sinks into the utmost 
 puerility, 
 
 t Xenarchus, the Peripatetic, was master to 
 Strabo ; and Xenarchus, the comic poet, was 
 author of several pieces of humour : but we know 
 no historian of that name. 
 
 X That is, Nicias. Nice signifies victory. 
 
 § Longinus quotes this passage as an example 
 of the frigid stvle, and of those puerilities he had 
 condemned in Timaeus. 
 
 Milesias, and Theramenes the son of Agnon. 
 The last, indeed, was not so remarkable in this 
 respect as the other two. For he had been re- 
 proached with his birth, as a stranger come from 
 the Isle of Ceos ; and from his want'of firmness, 
 or rather versatility, in matters of government, 
 he was called the Buskin.* 
 
 Thucydides was the oldest of the three ; and 
 when Pericles acted a flattering part to the 
 people, he often opposed him in behalf of the 
 nobility. Though Nicias was much the younger 
 man, he gained some reputation while Pei ides 
 lived, insomuch that he was several times his 
 colleague in the war, and often commanded 
 alone. But when Pericles died, he was soon 
 advanced to the head of the administration, par- 
 ticularly by the influence of the rich and great, 
 who hoped he would prove a barrier against the 
 daring insolence of Cleon. He had, however, 
 the good wishes of the people, and they contri- 
 buted their share to his advancement. 
 
 It is true, Cleon had considerable interest, 
 which he gained by making his court to the old 
 men, and by his frequent donations to the poor 
 citizens. Yet even many of those whom he 
 studied to oblige, seeing his avarice and effron- 
 tery, came over to Nicias. For the gravity of 
 Nicias had nothing austere or morose in it, but 
 was mixed with a reverence for the people, in 
 which fear seemed to be prevalent, and conse- 
 quently was very agreeable to them. Indeed, he 
 was natural ly timid and cold-hearted ; but this 
 defect was concealed by the long course of suc- 
 cess with which fortune favoured his expeditions. 
 And his timidity in the assemblies of the people, 
 and dread of persons who made a trade of im- 
 peachments, was a popular thing. It contributed 
 not a little to gain him the regards of the multi- 
 tude, who are afraid of those that despise them, 
 and love to promote those that fear them ; be- 
 cause in general the greatest honour they can 
 hope to obtain is not to be despised by the great. 
 
 As Pericles kept the reins of government in his 
 hands, by means of real virtue and by the force 
 of his eloquence, he had no need to hold out 
 false colours, or to use any ^ artifice with the 
 people. Nicias was deficient in those great en- 
 dowments, but had superior riches ; _ and he 
 applied them to the purposes of popularity. On 
 the other hand, he could not like Cleon divert 
 and draw the people by an easy manner and the 
 sallies of buffoonery ; and therefore he amused 
 them with the choruses of tragedy, with gym- 
 nastic exercises, and such like exhibitions, which 
 far exceeded, in point of magnificence and 
 elegance, all that went before him, and those of 
 his own times too. Two of his offerings to the 
 gods are to be seen at this day ; the one a statue 
 of Pallas dedicated in the citadel, which has lost 
 part of its gilding ; the other a small chapel in 
 the temple of Bacchus, under the tripods, which 
 are commonly offered up by those who gain the 
 prize in tragedy. Indeed, Nicias was already 
 victorious in these exhibitions. It is said, that 
 in a chorus of that kind one of his slaves ap- 
 peared in the character of Bacchus. The slave 
 was of an uncommon size and beauty, but had 
 not yet arrived at maturity : and the people were 
 so charmed with him, that they gave him long 
 
 * The form of the buskin was such that it 
 might be worn indifferently on either leg. 
 
mc/As. 
 
 plaudus. At last, Nicias rose up and said, he 
 should think it an act of impiety to retain a per- 
 son in servitude, who seemed by the public voice 
 to be consecrated to a god; and he enfran- 
 chised him upon the spot. 
 
 His regulations with respect to Delos, are still 
 spoken of as worthy of the deity who presides 
 there. Before his time, the choirs which the 
 cities sent to sing the praises o; Apollo * landed 
 in a disorderly manner, because the inhabitants 
 ot the island used to run up to the ship, and 
 pres^ them to sing before they were disembarked : 
 so that they were forced to strike up, as they 
 were puttmg on their robes and garlands. But 
 when Nicias had the conduct of this ceremony, 
 known by the name of Theoria, he landed first in 
 ^ H Zhenia with the choir, the victims 
 and al the other necessary preparations. He 
 
 h^rnr^h^^i have a bridge constructed 
 
 before he left Athens, which should reach from 
 ^ '^hich was magnificently 
 
 gilded, and adorned with garlands, rich stuffs, 
 threw his bridge 
 over the channel, which was not large ; and at 
 break of day he marched over it at the head of 
 the procession, with his choir richly habited and 
 
 sacrifices, 
 
 the games and banquets were over, he consecrated 
 wh Apollo, and likewise a field 
 Thl n purchased for ro,ooo drachmas. 
 
 Ihe Delians were to lay out the income in sacri- 
 
 fnr ^u ^itne to pray 
 
 for Apollo s blessing upon the founder. This is 
 mscnoed on a pillar, which he left in Delos as a 
 monument of his benefaction. As for the palra- 
 f broken by the winds, and the frag- 
 ^onl/nf statue! which the 
 
 people of Naxos had set up, demolished it. 
 
 uiost of these things were 
 done for ostentation, and with a view to dodu! 
 
 r. • • conduct, that religion had 
 
 the principal share in these dedications, and that 
 popularity was but a secondary motive. For he 
 and r remark ble for his fear of the gods! 
 
 degree of supeptition.J Itisrelatedinthedia- 
 sacrificed every day, 
 and that he had a diviner in his hou.se, 4o in 
 appearance inquired the success of the public 
 
 oftener consulted 
 about his own ; particularly as to the succS of 
 his silver mines in the borough of LauHum • 
 which in general afforded a large revenue but 
 
 such a^ might be able to do him harm • ard 
 
 men found resources in his fear^ as well S go^d 
 
 363 
 
 sen.by^h\p™c1plfciL‘’s“o?Gl^^^^^^ 
 
 X Thucyd, lib. vii. 
 
 men in his liberality. The comic poets bear 
 witness to what I have advanced. Teleclides 
 
 “Charirie “ informer speaking thus: 
 
 Cnancles would not give one mma to^event 
 my declaring that he was the first fruits of h"s 
 mothers amours; but Nicias, the son of Nice- 
 reitus, gave me lour. Why he did it, I shall not 
 
 is“mv^fr'i'fnV Fm- Nicias 
 
 IS my friend, a very wise man besides, in mv 
 
 opinion. Eupohs, in his Marcia, brings anothl? 
 informer upon the stage, who meets with some 
 poor Ignorant man, and thus addresses him : 
 
 Nici^f yo'* saw 
 
 ^oor man I never saw him before this 
 moment, when he stood in the market t lace. 
 
 In/ormei\ Take notice, my friends, the man 
 confesses he has seen a icias. And for what pur- 
 see him, but to sell him his vote? 
 Nicias, therefore, is plainly taken in the fact. 
 
 roet. Ah, fools ! do you think you can ever 
 persuade the world that so good a mL afNici^s 
 was taken in malpractices ? ” ^cias 
 
 ff T Aristophanes, says in amenacino- tone 
 
 tremble Ph make Nicial 
 
 trenibie. And Phrynichus glances at his ex- 
 cessive timidity, when, speaking of another 
 
 citizen, one who does not 
 Nicils^”^ ^ downcast look like 
 
 not^sn^nr of informers upon him, he would 
 
 come^mn f citizens, or 
 come into any of those parties which make the 
 hme pass so agreeably. When he was archon 
 "^tght, being always 
 wL^n he^had^^^""^’ the last that went away, 
 he shut^ ""P®” ^ts hands, 
 
 Aiff, I ^ttnself up at home, and was extremely 
 
 ?h?gate°&"'H^"‘* “y Sme to 
 
 tne gate his friends went and begged them to 
 
 excubj Nicias, because he had some Affairs under 
 SrsfaTe^^'''' tniportance to 
 
 httn most in acting 
 this farce, and gaming him the reputation of a 
 
 who wL^'h ^ business, was one Hiero, 
 
 who was brought up in his house, had a liberal 
 ^ucation and a taste of music given him there 
 of^Dionysms sTrl 
 
 extan? I®"”? PO^tns are still 
 
 Hafv conducted a colony into 
 
 Italy, founded the city of Thuiii. This Hiero 
 ransacted all the private business of Nicias vl!?h 
 the diviners ; and whenever he came amonV the 
 people, he used to tell them what aTabonouI 
 and miserable life Nicias led for their.sakes - hI 
 cannot go to the bath,” said he, “or the table 
 but some affair of state solicits his attention ; and 
 he neglec^ his own concerns to take care of the 
 Pk ^ scarce find time tor repo.se till 
 
 citizens have had their first sleep. 
 Amidst these cares and labours his health declines 
 d^ily, and his temper is so broken that his friends 
 no lonpr approach him with pleasure ; but he 
 loses them too, after having spent his fortune in 
 yop service. Meanwhile other statesmen gain 
 friends, and grow rich in their employments. 
 
 or! the Equites of Aristophanes, ver. 
 
 speaks.^*^ ^ Agoracritus who 
 
364 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 and are sleek and merry in the steerage of 1 
 government.” 1 
 
 In fact, the life of Nicias was a life of so much 
 care, that he might have justly applied to himself < 
 that expression of Agamemnon — | 
 
 In vain the glare of pomp proclaims me master, 
 I’m servant of the people. 
 
 Nicias perceived that the commons availed them- 
 selves of the services of those who were dis- 
 tinguished for their eloquence or capacity ; but 
 that they were always jealous and on their guard 
 against their great abilities, and that they en- 
 deavoured to humble them, and to obstruct their 
 progress in glory. This appeared in the con- 
 demnation of Pericles, the banishment of Damon, 
 the suspicions they entertained of Antipho the 
 Rhamnusian, but above all in the d spair^ of 
 Paches, who had taken Lesbos,^ and who being 
 called to give an account of his conduct, drew 
 his sword and killed himself in open court. 
 
 Warned by these examples, he endeavoured to 
 avoid such expeditions as he thought long and 
 difficult ; and when he did take the command, he 
 made it his business to proceed upon a sure plan. 
 For this reason he was generally successful : yet 
 he ascribed his success to fortune, and took refuge 
 under the wings of that divinity; contenting 
 himself with a smaller portion of honour, lest 
 envy should rob him of the whole. 
 
 The event showed the prudence of his conduct. 
 For, though the Athenians received many great 
 blows in those times, none of them could be im- 
 puted to Nicias. When they were defeated by 
 the Chalcideans in Thrace, Calliades and Xeno- 
 phon had the command ; Demosthenes was 
 general, when they miscarried in iEtolia ; and 
 when they lost 1000 men at Delium, they were 
 under the conduct of Hippocrates. As for the 
 plague, it was commonly thought to be occasioned 
 by Pericles ; who, to draw the burghers out of 
 the way of the war, shut them_ up in the city, 
 where they contracted the sickness by the 
 change of situation and diet. 
 
 None of these misfortunes were imputed to 
 Nicias : on the contrary, he took Cythera, an 
 island well situated for annoying Laconia, and at 
 that time inhabited by Lacedaemonians. He 
 recovered many places in Thrace which had re- 
 volted from the Athenians. He shut up the 
 Megarensians within their walls, and reduced 
 the island of Minoa. From thence he made an 
 excursion soon after, and got possession of the 
 port of Nisaea. He likewise made a descent 
 upon the territories of Corinth, beat the troops of 
 that state in a pitched battle, and killed great 
 numbers of them : Lycophron, their general, was 
 
 among the slain. 1 i j- r * 
 
 He happened to leave there the bodies of two 
 of his men, who were missed in carrying off the 
 dead. But as soon as he knew it, he stopped his 
 course, and sent a herald to the enemy, to ask 
 leave to take away those bodies. This he did, 
 though there was a law and custom subsisting, by 
 which those who desire a treaty for carrying off 
 the dead, gi^e up the victory, and are not at 
 liberty to erect a trophy. And indeed, those who 
 are so far masters of the field, that the enemy 
 cannot bury their dead without permission, appear 
 to be conquerors, because no man would ask that 
 as a favour which he could command. Nicias, 
 
 lowever, chose rather to lose his laufels than to 
 leave two of his countrymen unburied.* 
 
 After he had ravaged the coast of Laconia, and 
 defeated the Lacedaemonians who attempted to 
 oppose him, he took the fortress of Thyraea,f 
 then held by the iEginetae, made the garrison 
 prisoners, and carried them to Athens. Demos- 
 thenes having lortified Pylos,J the Peloponne.sians 
 besieged it both by sea and land. A battle 
 ensued, in which they were worsted, and about 
 400 Spartans threw themselves into the isle of 
 Sphacteria. The taking of them seemed, and 
 indeed was, an important object to the Athenians, 
 
 But the siege was difficult, because there was no 
 water to be had upon the spot, and it was trouble- 
 some and expensive to get convoys thither ; jn 
 summer they were obliged to take a long circuit, 
 and in winter it was absolutely impracticable. 
 They were much perplexed about the affair, and 
 repented their refusing the terms of peace which 
 the Lacedsemonians had offered by their am- 
 bassadors. 
 
 It was through Cleon that the embassy did not 
 take effect ; he opposed the peace, because N icias 
 was for it. Cleon was his mortal enemy, and 
 seeing him countenance the Lacedsemonians, 
 persuaded the people to reject their propositions 
 by a formal decree. But when they found that 
 the siege was drawn out to a great length, and 
 that there was almost a famine in their camp, 
 they expressed their resentment against Cleon. 
 Cleon, for his part, laid the blame upon Nicias ; 
 alleging, that if the enemy escaped, it must be 
 through his slow and timid operations; “ Had I 
 been the general,” said he, “ they could not have 
 held out so long.” The Athenians readily an- 
 swered, “ Why do not you go now against these 
 Spartans?” And Nicias rose up and declared, 
 he would freely give up to him the command 
 in the affair of Pylos : bade him take what forces 
 he pleased ; and, instead of showing his courage 
 in words, where there was no danger, go and 
 perform some actions worthy the attention of his | 
 country. 
 
 Cleon, disconcerted with the unexpected offer, 
 declined it at first. But when he found the 
 Athenians insisted upon it, and that Nicias took 
 his advantage to raise a clamour against him, his 
 pride was hurt, and he was incensed to such a 
 degree, that he not only undertook the expe- 
 dition, but declared he would in twenty days 
 
 * The burying of the dead was a duty of great 
 importance in the heathen world. The fable of 
 the ghost of an unburied person not being allowed 
 to pass the Styx, is well known. . About eight 
 years after the death of Nicias, the Athenians 
 put six of their generals to death, for not interring 
 those soldiers that were slain in the battle of 
 Arginusse. 
 
 t Thyrsea was a fort situated between Laconia 
 and the territory of the Argives. It belonged of 
 right to the Lacedsemonians, but they gave it to 
 the iEginetse, who had been expelled their 
 
 country. , , „• r, i 
 
 X The Peloponnesians and their allies had 
 entered Attica under the conduct of Agis the son 
 1 of Archidamus, and ravaged the counti*y. De- 
 mosthenes, the Athenian general, made a diver- 
 • sion by seizing and fortifying Pylos. ^ This 
 ; brought Agis back to the defence of his own 
 ’ country. Thucyd. 1 . iv. 
 
NICIAS. 
 
 365 
 
 either put the enemy to the sword, orbring them 
 alive to Athens. 
 
 The people laughed at his declaration,* in- 
 stead of giving it any credit. Indeed, they had 
 long been accustome i to divert themselves with 
 the sallies of his vanity. One day, for instance, 
 when a general assembly was to be held they 
 had sat waiting for him a long time. At last he 
 came, when their patience was almost spent, 
 with a garland on his head, and desired them to 
 adjourn until the day following • “For, to-day,” 
 ‘says he, “I am not at leisure; I have strangers 
 to entertain, and I have sacrificed to the gods.” 
 The Athenians only laughed, and immediately 
 rose up and dismissed the assembly. 
 
 Cleon, however, was so much favoured by for- 
 tune in this commission that he acquitted himself 
 better than any one since Demosthenes. He 
 returned within the time he had fixed, after he 
 had made all the Spartans who did not fall in 
 battle, deliver up their arms ; and brought them 
 prisoners to Athens. 
 
 This reflected no small disgrace upon Nicias. 
 It was considered as something worse than 
 throwing away his shield, meanly to quit his 
 command, and to give his enemy an opportunity 
 of distinguishing himself by his abdication. 
 Hence Aristophanes ridicules him in his comedy 
 called The Birds. “ By heaven, this is no 
 time for us to slumber, or to imitate the lazy 
 operations of Nicias.” And in his piece entitled 
 The H ttsbajidman, he introduces two Athenians 
 discoursing thus : 
 
 xst Athenian. I had rather stay at home 
 and till the ground. 
 
 “ ‘znd A thenian. And who hinders thee ? 
 
 y xst Athenian. You hinder me. And yet I am 
 willing to pay a thousand drachmas to be excused 
 taking the commission. 
 
 rind Athenian. Let us see. Your thousand 
 drachmas, with those of Nicias, will make two 
 thousand. We will excuse you.” 
 
 Nicias, in this affair, was not only unjust to 
 himself, but to the sta e. He suffered Cleon by 
 this means to gain such an ascendant as led him 
 to a degree of pride and effrontery th it was 
 insupportable. Many evils were thus brought 
 upon the commonwealth, of which Nicias himself 
 had his full share. We cannot but consider it 
 as one great corruption, that Cleon now banished 
 all decorum from the general assembly. It was 
 he who in his speeches first broke out into violent 
 exclamations, threw back his robes, smote upon 
 his thigh, and ran from one end of the rostrum 
 to the other. This soon introduced such a 
 licentiousness and disregard to decency among 
 those who directed the affairs of state, that it 
 threw the whole government into confusion. 
 
 At this time there sprung up another orator 
 at Athen.s. This was Alcibiades. He did not 
 prove so totally corrupt as Cleon. As it is said 
 of the land of Egypt, that, on account of its 
 extreme ferility — 
 
 There plenty sows the fields with herbs salubrious. 
 But scatters many a baneful weed between ; 
 
 so in Alcibiades there were very different 
 
 * The wiser sort hoped either to have the 
 pleasure of seeing the Lacedaemonians brought 
 prisoners to Athens, or else of getting rid of the 
 importunate pretensions of Cleon. 
 
 qualities, but all in extremes ; and these ex- 
 tremes opened a door to many innovations. So 
 that when Nicias got clear of Cleon, he had 
 no time to establish any lasting tranquility in 
 Athens ; but as soon as he had got things into a 
 safe track, the ambition of Alcibiades came upon 
 him like a torrent, and bore him back into the 
 storms of war. 
 
 It happened thus. The per.sons who most 
 opposed the peace of Greece were Cleon and 
 Brasidas. War helped to hide the vices of the 
 former, and to .show the good qualities of the 
 latter.^ Cleon found opportunity for acts of 
 injustice and oppression, and Brasidas for great 
 and glorious actions. But after they both fell 
 in the battle near Amphipolis, Nicias applied to 
 the Lacedaemonians on one hand, who had been 
 for some time desirous of peace, and to the 
 Athenians on the other, now no longer so warm 
 in the pursuits of war. In fact, both parties 
 were tired of hostilities, and ready to let their 
 weapons drop out of their hands, Nicias, there- 
 fore, used his endeavours to reconcile them, and 
 indeed to deliver all the Greeks from the cala- 
 mities they had suffered, to bring them to taste 
 the sweets of repose, and to re-establish a long 
 and lasting reign of happiness. He immediately 
 found the rich, the aged, and all that were em- 
 ployed in the culture of the ground, disposed to 
 peace ; and by addressing himself to the rest, 
 and expostulating with them respectively, he 
 soon abated their ardour for war. 
 
 His next step was to give the Spartans hopes 
 of an accommodation, and to exhort them to 
 propose such measures as might effect it. They 
 read'.ly confided in him, because they knew the 
 goodness of his heart ; of which there was a late 
 instance in his humane treatment of their 
 countrymen who were taken prisoners at Pylos, 
 and who found their chains greatly lightened by 
 his good offices. 
 
 They had already agreed to a suspension of 
 arms tor one year ; during which time they often 
 met, and enjoyed again the pleasures of ease and 
 security ; the company of strangers as well as 
 nearer friends ; and expressed their mutual 
 wishes for the continuance of a life undisturbed 
 with the horrors of war. It was with great 
 delight they heard the chorus in such strains as 
 this ; 
 
 Arachne freely now has leave 
 
 Her webs around my spear to weave. 
 
 They recollected with pleasure the saying, that 
 in time of peace men are awaked not by the 
 sound of the trumpet, but the crowing of the 
 cock. They execrated those who said, it was 
 decreed by fate that the war should last three 
 times nine years ; * and this free intercourse 
 leading them to canvass every point, they at last 
 Signed the peace, t 
 
 It was now the general opinion, that they were 
 
 * “I remember,” says Thucydides, “that 
 throughout the whole war many maintained it 
 was to last three times nine j^ears. And if we 
 reckon the first ten years of the war, the truce 
 very short and ill observed that followed it, the 
 treaties ill executed, and the war that was re- 
 newed thereupon, we shall find the oracle fully 
 justified by the event." Thucyd. 1. v. 
 
 t Peace for fifty years was agreed upon and 
 
366 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 at the end of all their troubles. Nothing was 
 talked of but Nicias. He, they said, was a man 
 beloved of the gods, who, in recompense of his 
 piety, had thought proper that the greatest and 
 most desirable of all blessings should bear his 
 name. It is certain they ascribed the peace to 
 Nicias, as they did the war to Pericles. And 
 indeed, the one did plunge them upon slight 
 pretences into numberless calamities, and the 
 other persuaded them to bury the greatest of 
 injuries in oblivion, and to unite again as friends. 
 It is therefore called the Niceaft peace to this 
 very day. 
 
 It was agreed in the articles, that both parties 
 should restore the towns and the prisoners they 
 had taken ; and it was to be determined by lot 
 which of them should do it first : but according 
 to Theophrastus, Nicias secured the lot by dint 
 of money, so that the Lacedaemonians were 
 forced to lead the way. As the Corinthians and 
 Boeotians were displeased at these proceedings, 
 and endeavoured, by sowing jealousies between 
 the contracting powers, to renew the war, Nicias 
 persuaded the Athenians and Lacedaemonians to 
 confirm the peace, and to support each other by 
 a league offensive and defensive. This he ex- 
 pected would intimidate those who were inclined 
 to fly off. 
 
 During these transactions, Alcibiades at first 
 made it his business privately to oppose the 
 peace. For he was naturally disinclined to 
 inaction, and was moreover offended at the 
 Lacedaemonians, on account of their attachment 
 to Nicias, and their neglect and disregard of 
 him. But when he found this private opposition 
 ineffectual, he took another method. In a little 
 time he saw the Athenians did not look upon the 
 Lacedaemonians with so obliging an eye as 
 before, because they thought themselves injured 
 by the alliance which their new friends had 
 entered into with the Boeotians, and because 
 they had not delivered up Panactus and Amphi- 
 polis in the condition they found them. He 
 therefore dwelt upon these points, and en- 
 deavoured to inflame the people’s resentment. 
 Besides, he persuaded, and at last prevailed 
 upon the republic of Argos to send an embassy, 
 for the purpose of negociating a treaty with the 
 Athenians. 
 
 When the Lacedsemonians had intelligence of 
 this, they sent ambassadors to Athens with full 
 powers to settle all matters in dispute. These 
 plenipotentiaries were introduced to the senate, 
 and their proposals seemed perfectly just and 
 reasonable. Alcibiades, upon this, fearing they 
 would gain the people by the same overtures, 
 circumvented them by perfidious oaths and 
 asseverations ; promising he would secure the 
 success of their commission, if they would not 
 declare that they came with full powers ; and 
 assuring them, that no other method would be 
 so effectual. They gave credit to his insinua- 
 tions, and went over from Nicias to him. 
 
 Upon introducing them to the people, the first 
 question he asked them was, whether they came 
 with full powers. They denied it, as they were 
 instructed. Then Alcibiades, beyond all their 
 expectations, changing sides, called the senate 
 to bear witness to their former declarations, and 
 
 signed the year following; but it was soon 
 broken again. 
 
 desired the people not to give the least credit 
 or attention to such manifest prevaricators, who 
 upon the same point asserted one thing one day, 
 and another thing the next. Iheir confusion 
 was inexpressible, as may well be imagined, and 
 Nicias was struck dumb with grief and astonish- 
 ment. The people of course sent immediately 
 for the deputies of Argos, to conclude the treaty 
 with them. But at that very moment there 
 happened a slight shock of an earthquake, 
 which, favourably for Nicias, broke up the 
 assembly. 
 
 Next day they assembled again ; and Nicias, 
 by exerting all his powers, with much difficulty 
 prevailed upon them not to put the last hand to 
 the league with Argos ; but, instead of that, to 
 send him to Sparta,* where he assured them all 
 would be well. When he arrived there, he was 
 treated with great respect, as a man of honour, 
 and one who had shown that republic great 
 friendship : however, as the party that had 
 favoured the Boeotians was the strongest, he 
 could effect nothing.! He returned, therefore, 
 not only with disrepute and disgrace, but was 
 apprehensive of worse consequences from the 
 Athenians, who were greatly chagrined and 
 provoked, that, at his persuasion, they had set 
 free so many prisoners, and prisoners of such 
 distinction. For those brought from Pylos were 
 of the first families in Sparta, and had connec- 
 tions with the greatest personages there. Not- 
 withstanding this, they did not express their 
 resentment in any act of severity ; they only 
 elected Alcibiades general, and took the Man- 
 tineans and Eleans, who had quitted the Lacedae- 
 monian interest, into league with them, along 
 with the Argives. They then sent a marauding 
 party to Pylos, from thence to make excursions 
 into Laconia. Thus the war broke out afresh. 
 
 As the quarrel between Nicias and Alcibiades 
 rose daily to a greater height, the ostracism was 
 proposed. To this the people have recourse at 
 certain periods, and by it they expel for ten years 
 any one who is suspected for his authority, or 
 envied for his wealth. Both parties were greatly 
 alarmed at the danger, not doubting that it would 
 fail to the lot of one of them. The Athenians 
 detested the life and manners of Alcibiades, and 
 at the same time they dreaded his enterprising 
 spirit ; as we have related more at large in his 
 li.e. As for Nicia.s, his riches exposed him to 
 envy, and the rather, because there was nothing 
 social or popular in his manner of living ; on the 
 contrary, his recluse turn seemed owing to an 
 inclination for oligarchy, and perfectly in a foreign 
 taste. Besides, he had combated their opinions, 
 and by making them pursue their own interest 
 against their inclination, was of course become 
 obnoxious. In one word, the whole was a dispute 
 between the young who wanted war, and the old 
 who were lovers of peace. The former endeavoured 
 to make the ostracism to fall upon Nicias, and the 
 latter on Alcibiades : 
 
 But in seditions bad men rise to honour. 
 
 The Athenians being divided into two factions. 
 
 * There were others joined in commission with 
 him. 
 
 t Nicias insisted that the Spartans should 
 renounce their alliance with the Boeotians, be- 
 cause they had not acceded to the peace. 
 
NICIAS, 
 
 the subtlest and most profligate of wretches 
 gained ground. Such was Hyperbolus of the 
 ward of Penthois ; a man whose boldness was 
 not owing to any well grounded influence, but 
 whose influence was owing to his boldness ; and 
 who di-sgraced the city by the credit he had 
 acquired. 
 
 Ihis wretch had no apprehensions of banish- 
 ment by the honourable suffrage of the o.stracism 
 ^cause he knew himself fitter for a gibbet 
 Hoping, however, that if one of these great men 
 were banished, he should be able to make head 
 against the other, he dissembled not his joy at 
 tins spirit of party, but strove to exasperate the 
 people against both. Nicias and Alcibiades taking 
 notice of his malice, came to a private interview 
 m which they agreed to unite their interests ; and 
 by that means avoided the ostracism themselves 
 and turned it upon H)'perbolus. ’ 
 
 At first the people were pleased, and laughed 
 at the strange turn things had taken ; but upon 
 recollection, It gave them great uneasiness to 
 think that the ostracism was dishonoured by its 
 tailing upon a person unworthy of it. They were 
 persuaded there was a dignity in that punish- 
 ment ; or rather, that to such men as Thucydides 
 ^d Aristides it was a punishment ; whereas to 
 Hyperbolus it was an honour which he mi^ht be 
 proud of, since his profligacy had put him on the 
 same list with the greatest patriots. Hence 
 Plato, t^he comic poet, thus speaks of him, “ No 
 doubt l^s crimes deserved chastisement, but a 
 very different chastisement from that which he 
 received. The shell was not designed for such 
 wretches as he.” 
 
 In fact no one afterwards was banished by it. 
 He was the last, and Hipparchus the Cholargian, 
 a relation of the tyrant, was the first. Froni this 
 event it appears how intricate are the ways of 
 fortune, how incomprehensible to human reason. 
 ±lad Nicias run the risk of the ostracism, he 
 would either have expelled Alcibiades, and lived 
 aftpwardsin his native city in full security: or 
 11 it had been earned against him, and he had 
 been forced to retire, he would have avoided the 
 impending stroke of misery, and preserved the 
 reputation of a wi.se and experienced general. I 
 am not ignorant that Theophrastus says Hyper- 
 bolus was banished in the contest between Phaeax 
 and Alcibiades, and not in that with Nicias. Tut 
 give it as above related. 
 
 About this time the .dEgesteans and Leontines 
 sent an embassy, to desire the Athenians to under- 
 Uke the Sicilian expedition. Nicias opposed it 
 and ambition 
 
 of Alcibiades. Indeed, Alcibiades had previously 
 assembly by his discourses, and cor- 
 
 c ^ Peaces of 
 
 exercise and the old men in the shops and other 
 places where they conversed drew plans of Sicily 
 and exhibited the nature of its seas, with all its 
 ports and bearings on the side next Africa. For 
 they did not consider Sicily as the reward of their 
 
 whe?rL°?h ^ ; from 
 
 Carih.l SO upon the conquest of 
 
 selves I J i «^ake them- 
 
 HerculS 
 
 Ni'Ss^ '"tent upon this expedition, 
 
 iNicias had not many on his s.de, either amon<^ 
 the commons or nobility, to oppose it. For the 
 
 5^7 
 
 rich, fearing it might be thought they were afraid 
 to serve m person, or to be at the expen.se of 
 fitting out men of war, .sat silent, contrary to 
 f J udgment: N icias, however, opposed 
 
 It indefatigably, nor did he give up his point after 
 the decree was passed for the war, and he was 
 elected general along with Alcibiades and La- 
 machu.s, and his name first in the suffrages. In 
 tne first assembly that was held after that, he 
 rose to dissuade them, and to protest against 
 conclusion, he attacked 
 Alcibiades, for plunging the state in a dangerous 
 and foreign war, merely with a view to his own 
 emolument and fame. But his arguments had no 
 rV. thought a man of his experience 
 
 tne fitter to conduct this enterprise ; and that 
 nothing could contribute more to its success 
 
 r caution with the fiery spirit 
 
 of Alcibiades, and the boldness of Lamachus. 
 i herefore, they were still more confirmed in their 
 Choice. Besides, Demostratus, who of all the 
 orators took most pains to encourage the people 
 to that war, rose and said, he would soon cut off 
 all the excuses of Nicias; and immediately he 
 proposed and carried an order, that the generals 
 should have a discretionary power to lay plans 
 abroacT*^ execution, both at home and 
 
 It is said, indeed, that the prie.sts strongly 
 oppose^d the expedition. But Alcibiades had 
 other diviners to set against them ; and he gave 
 certain ancient oracles promised the 
 Athenians great glory in Sicily. The envoys, 
 too, who were sent to consult the oracle of Jupiter 
 Ammon, returned with an answer importing that 
 the Athenians would take all the Syracusans. 
 
 If any of the citizens knew of bad presages 
 they took care to conceal them, lest they should 
 seem to pronounce anything inauspicious of an 
 enterprise which their countrymen had too much 
 at heart. Nor would any warnings have availed 
 when they were not moved at the most clear and 
 (^vious signs. Such was the mutilation of the 
 Hermce,^ whose heads were all struck off in one 
 night, except that which was called the Mercury 
 of Andocide.s, and which had been consecrated by 
 the tribe of Egis, before the door of the person 
 just named. Such also was the pollution of the 
 altar of the twelve gods. A man got astride 
 upon It, and there emasculated himself with a 
 stone. In the temple of Delphi there was a golden 
 statue of Pallas, which the .Athenians had erected 
 upon a palm-tree of brass, in commemoration of 
 the victory over the Medes. The crows came 
 and beaked it for several days, and pecked off the 
 golden fruit of the tree. 
 
 The Athenians, however, said these were only 
 fictions propagated at Delphi at the instigation of 
 the Syracusans. A certain oracle ordered them I 
 to fetch a priestess of M nerva from Clazomense ; 
 and when she came, they found her name was 
 ^iesychia, by which the Deity seemed to exhort 
 them to continue in quiet. Meton the astrologer 
 whether he was struck with these signs, or 
 whether by the eye of human reason he *dis- 
 covered the impending danger (for he had a 
 command in the army) , feigned himself mad. 
 
 The Hermce, or statues of Mercury, were 
 square figures placed by the Athenians at the 
 ptes of their temples and the doors of their 
 houses. 
 
:;6S 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 and set fire to his house. Others py, he used 
 no pretence to madness, but having burned down 
 his house in the night, addressed himself next 
 morning to the assembly in a forlorn condition, 
 and desired the citizens, in compassion for his 
 misfortune, to excuse his son, who was to have 
 gone out captain of a galley to Sicily.^ 
 
 The genius of Socrates,* on this occasion, 
 warned that wise man by the usual tokens, t^t 
 the expedition would prove fatal to Athens, fie 
 mentioned this to several of his friends and 
 acquaintance, and the warning was commonly 
 talked of. Many were likewise greatly dis- 
 couraged on account of the time when the fleet 
 happened to be sent out. The women were then 
 celebrating the feasts of Adonis, during which 
 there were to be seen in every quarter ot the city 
 images of the dead and funeral prpcessions ; the 
 wornen accompanying them with dismal lamenta- 
 tions. So that those who took any account ot 
 omens, were full of concern for the tate cn their 
 countrymen. They trembled to think that an 
 armament fitted at so vast an expense and which 
 made so glorious an appearance, would soon lose 
 its consequence. . , 
 
 As for Nicias, he showed himself a wise and 
 worthy man, in opposing the expedition while it 
 was under consideration ; and in not suttering 
 himself, after it was resolved upon, to be dazzled 
 by vain hopes, or by the emmencd of his post, sj 
 as to depart from his opinion. Nevertheless, 
 when he could neither divert the people from 
 their purpose, nor by all his efforts get himselt 
 excused from taking the command, but was 
 placed, as it were by violence, at the head of a 
 great army, it was then no time for caution and 
 timid delay. He should not then have qoked 
 back from his ship like a child ; or by a multitude 
 of protestations that his better counsels were 
 overruled, have disheartened his colleagues, and 
 abated the ardour of his troops, winch alone 
 cou'd give him a chance of success. He should 
 have immediately attacked the enemy with the 
 utmost vigour, and made Fortune blush at the 
 
 calamities she was preparing. 
 
 But his conduct was very different. When 
 Lamachus proposed to make a descent close by 
 Syracuse,! and to give battle under the walls, 
 and Alcibiades was of opinion, they should first 
 reduce the cities that owned the authority ol 
 Syracuse, and then march against the principal 
 enemy ; Nicias opposed both. He gave it for 
 coasting along Sicily without any act of hostility 
 and showing what an armament they had. Then 
 he was for returning to Athens, Mter having left 
 a small reinforcement with the iFgpteans,_ as a 
 taste of the Athenian strength Thus he inter- 
 cepted all their schemes, and broke down their 
 
 spmts. called Alcibi- 
 
 ades home to take his trial ; and Nicias remained, 
 joined indeed with another in commission, but 
 first in authority. There was now no end of his 
 delays. He either made an idle parade of sailing 
 along the coast, or else sat still deliberating , 
 until the spirit of confidence which buoyed up 
 his own troops was evaporated and gone, as well 
 as the consternation with which the enemy were 
 seized at the first sight of his armament. 
 
 It is true, before the departure of Alcibiades, 
 they had sailed towards Syracuse with sixty 
 galleys, fifty of which they drew up in line of 
 battle before the harbour ; the other ten *^hey 
 sent in to reconnoitre the place. These advanced 
 to the foot of the walls, and, by proclamation, 
 invited the Leontines to return to their old habi- 
 tations.* At the same time they happened to 
 take one of the enemy’s vessels, with the registers 
 on board, in which all the Syracusans were set 
 down according to their tribes. They used to be 
 kept at some distance from the city in the temple 
 of Jupiter Olympus, but were then sent for to be 
 examined, in order to the forming a list of persons 
 able to bear arms. When these registers were 
 brought to the Athenian generals, and such a 
 prodigious number of names was displayed, the 
 diviners were greatly concerned at the acci- 
 dent ; thinking the prophecy, that the Athenians 
 should take all the Syracusans, might possibly 
 in this have its entire accomplishment, it is 
 asserted, however, that it had its accomplishment 
 on another occasion, when Calippus the Athenian, 
 after he had killed Dion, made himself master ot 
 
 ^^When^*Alcibiades quitted Sicily with a small 
 retinue, the whole power devolved upon Nicias. 
 Lamachus, indeed, was a man of great courage 
 and honour, and he freely exposed his person m 
 time of action ; but his circumstances were so 
 mean, that whenever he gave iri his accounts ot 
 a campaign, he charged a small sum for clothes 
 and sandals. Nicias, on >he contrary, beside 
 his other advantages, derived great authority 
 from his eminence both as to wealth and name. 
 We are told, that on another occasion, when the 
 Athenian generals met in a council of war, Nicias 
 desired Sophocles the poet to give his opinion 
 first, because he was the oldest map. It is 
 true,” said Sophocles, “ 1 am older in respect of 
 years; but you are older in respect of service. 
 
 In the same manner he now brought Lamachus 
 to act under his orders, though he was the abler 
 o-eneral ; and his proceedings were for ever 
 and dilatory. At first he made the circuit of tl^ 
 island with his ships at a great distance rom 
 the enemy ; which served only to raise their 
 spirits. His first operation was to lay siege to 
 the little town of Hybla ; and not succeeding 
 in that affair, he exposed himself to 
 contempt. Afterwards he retired to Catana, 
 without any other exploit than that of ruining 
 Hyccara, a small place subject to the barbpians 
 Lais the courtesan, who was then a girl, is said 
 to have been sold among the prisoners, and 
 carried from thence to Peloponnesus. 
 
 Towards the end of the 
 formed, the Syracusans were come to that decree 
 of confidence that they designed to 
 Nay, some of their cavalry rode up to his trenches 
 and^ asked his troops, in great derision, '^he^hej 
 they were not rather come to settle in Catana 
 
 * In Theog. 
 t Vid. Thucyd. 1. vi. 
 
 * They ordered proclamation to be made by a 
 herald, that the Athenians were come to restore 
 the Leontines to their country, m virtue of the 
 relation and alliance between them. In conse- 
 quence of which, such of the Leontines as were 
 ?n Syracuse, had nothing to do but to repair to 
 the Athenians, who would take care to conduct 
 them. 
 
mc/As. 
 
 themselves, than to settle the Leontines in theii 
 old habitations. 
 
 Nicias, now, at last, with much difficulty de- 
 termined to sail for Syracuse. In order to land 
 his forces, and encamp them without running 
 any risk, he sent a person to Catana before him, 
 who, under pretence of being a deserter, should 
 tell the Syracusans, that if they wanted to sur- 
 prise the enemy’s camp, in a defenceless state, 
 and make themselves masters of their arms and 
 baggage, they had nothing to do but to march 
 to Catana with all their forces on a day that he 
 mentioned. For the Athenians he said, passed 
 the greatest part of their time within the walls ; 
 and such of the inhabitants as were friends to the 
 Syracusans had determined, upon their approach, 
 to shut in the enemy, and to burn their fleet. At 
 the same time, he assured them, their partisans 
 r were very numerous, and waited with impatience 
 for their arrival.* 
 
 This was the best act of generalship Nicias 
 performed in Sicily. Having drawn by this 
 means the enemy’s force out of Syracuse, so that 
 It was left almost without defence, he sailed thither 
 from Catana, made himself master of their ports, 
 and encamped in a situation, where the enemy 
 could least annoy him by that in which their chief 
 strength consisted, and where he could easily 
 exert the strength in which he was superior. 
 
 The Syracusans, at their return from Catana, 
 drew up before the walls, and Nicias immediately 
 attacked and beat them. They did not, however, 
 lose any great number of men, because their 
 cavalry _ stopped the Athenians in the pursuit. 
 As Nicias had broken down all the bridges that 
 were upon the river, he gave Hermocrates oppor- 
 tunity to encourage the Syracusans, by observing, 
 that it was ridiculous in Nicias to contrive means 
 to prevent fighting ; as if fighting was not the 
 business he came about. Their consternation, 
 indeed, was so great, that, instead of the fifteen 
 generals they had, they chose three others, and 
 th- people promised, upon oath, to indulge them 
 with a power of acting at discretion. 
 
 The temple of Jupiter Olympius was near the 
 camp, and the Athenians were desirous to take it, 
 because of the quantity of its rich offerings in gold 
 and .silver. But Nicias industriously put off the 
 attack, and suffered a Syracusan garrison to enter 
 It ; persuaded that the plunder his troops might 
 get there would be of no service to the public, and 
 that he should bear all the blame of the sacrilege. 
 
 The news of the victory soon spread over the 
 whole island, but Nicias made not the least im- 
 provement of it. He soon retired to Naxos, f and 
 wintered there ; keeping an army on foot at a 
 peat expense, and effecting but little ; for only a 
 few Sicilians came over to him. The Syracusans 
 recovered their spirits again so as to make another 
 excursion to Catana, in which they ravaged the 
 country, and burned the Athenian camp. Mean- 
 while all the world censured Nicias, and said, 
 that by his long deliberations, delays, and extreme 
 caution, he lost the time for action. When he did 
 act, there was nothing to be blamed in the manner 
 of It : for he was as bold and vigorous in executing 
 
 as he was timid and dilatory in forming a resolu- 
 tion. 
 
 ■ When he had once determined to return with 
 
 his forces to Syracuse, he conducted all his move- 
 ments with so much prudence, expedition, and 
 that he had gained the peninsula of 
 r disembarked his men and got possession 
 
 of Epipolse, before the enemy knew of his 
 approach. He beat on this occasion some 
 infantry that were sent to succour the fort, and 
 made 300 prisoners ; he likewise routed their 
 cavalry, which was thought invincible. 
 
 But what most astonished the Sicilians and 
 appeared incredible to the Greeks, was, that in a 
 short space of time he enclosed Syracuse with a 
 w^I, a city not less than Athens, and much more 
 difficult to be surrounded by such a work, by 
 reason of the unevenness of the ground, ’ the 
 sea, and the adjoining marshes. 
 Add to this, that it was almost effected by a man 
 whose health was by no means equal to such an 
 undertaking, for he was afflicted with the stone ; 
 and if it was not entirely finished, we must impute 
 It to that circumstance. 
 
 I cannot, indeed, but admire the attention of 
 the general and the invincible courage of the 
 soldiers, in effecting what they did, in this as well 
 as in other instances. Euripides, after their 
 defeat and death, wrote this epitaph for them : 
 
 Eight trophies these from Syracuse obtain’d - 
 Ere yet the gods were partial. 
 
 And in fact we find that the Athenians gained 
 not only eight, but several more victories of the 
 Syracusans, till the gods or fortune declared 
 against them, at a time when they were arrived 
 p the highest pitch of power. Nicias forced 
 himself beyond what his health would allow, to 
 most of the actions in person : but when 
 his distemper was very violent, he was obliged to 
 keep his bed in the camp, with a few servants to 
 wait upon him. 
 
 Meantime, Lamachus, who was now com- 
 mander in chief, came to an engagement with 
 the Syracusans, who were drawing a cross wall 
 froni the city, to hinder the Athenians from 
 finishing theirs. The Athenians generally having 
 the advantage, went in too disorderly a manner 
 upon the pursuit ; and it happened one day that 
 Lamachus was left almost alone to receive the 
 enemy’s cavalry. Callicrates, an officer remark- 
 able for his strength and courage, advanced before 
 them, and gave Lamachus the challenge ; which 
 he did not decline. Lamachus received the first 
 wound, which proved mortal, but he returned it 
 upon his adversary, and they fell both together. 
 The Syracusans remaining masters of the body 
 arid arms of Lamachus, carried them off; and 
 without losing a moment, marched to the Athe- 
 nian camp, where Nicias lay without any guards 
 to defend him. Roused, however, by necessity 
 and the sight of his danger, he ordered those 
 about him to set fire to the materials before the 
 intrenchments which were provided for the ma- 
 chines, and to the machines themselves. This 
 put a stop to the Syracusans, and saved Nicias, 
 together with the Athenian camp and baggage’. 
 For as soon as they beheld the flames rising in 
 vast columns between the camp and them, they 
 retired. 
 
 Nicias now remained sole commander, but he 
 had reason to form the most sanguine hopes of 
 
 * Nicias knew he could not make a descent 
 irom his ships near Syracuse, because the . in- 
 habitants were prepared for him ; nor could he 
 go by land for want of cavalry. 
 
 t A city between Syracuse and Catana. 
 
370 PLUTARCH^S LIVES. 
 
 success. The cities declared for him, and ships 
 laden with provisions came daily to his camp ; 
 his affairs being in so good a train that the 
 Sicilians strove which should first express their 
 attachment. The Syracusans themselves, de- 
 spairing of holding out much longer, began to talk 
 of proposals for an accommodation. Gylippus, 
 who was coming from Lacedaemon to their 
 succour, being informed of the wall with which 
 they were enclosed, and the extremities they were 
 reduced to, continued his voyage, not with a view 
 to Sicily, which he gave up for lost, but, ^ if 
 possible! to save the Greek cities in Italy. For 
 the renown of the Athenians was not very exten- 
 sive ; it was reported that they carried all before 
 them, and that they had a general whose prudence 
 as well as good fortune, rendered him invincible. 
 Nicias himself, contrary to his nature, was sud- 
 denly elated by his pre.sent strength and success ; 
 the more so, because he was persuaded, upon 
 private intelligence from Syracuse, as well as 
 more public application, that the city was about 
 to capitulate. Hence it was that he took no 
 account of the approach of Gylippus, nor placed 
 any regular guard to prevent his coming asnore ; 
 so that, screened by this utter negligence, Gylip- 
 pus landed with safety. It was at a great distance 
 from Syracuse, and he found means to collect a 
 considerable army. But the Syracusans were so 
 far from knowing or expecting his arrival, that 
 they had assembled that very day to consider of 
 articles of capitulation ; nay, some were for 
 coming to terms that moment, before the city was 
 absolutely enclosed. For there was but a small 
 part of the wall unfinished, and ail the necessary 
 materials were upon the spot. 
 
 At this critical and dangerous instant Gongylus 
 arrived from Corinth with one galley of three 
 banks of oars. The whole town was in motion, 
 as might naturally be expected. He told them, 
 Gylippus would soon come, with several other 
 ships, to their succour. They could not give 
 entire credit to Gongylus; but while they were 
 weighing the matter, a messenger arrived from 
 Gylippus, with orders that they should march 
 out to join him. Immediately upon this, they 
 recovered their spirits, and armed. Gylippus 
 soon arrived, and put his troops in order of battle. 
 As Nicias was drawing up against hirn, Gylippus 
 rested his arms, and sent a herald with an offer 
 of safe conduct to the Athenians, if they would 
 1 quit Sicily. Nicias did not deign to give him 
 any answer. But some of the soldiers asked him, 
 by way of ridicule, whether the Syracusans were 
 become so strong by the arrival of one Lace- 
 daemonian cloak and staff, as to despise the 
 Athenians who had lately knocked off the fetters 
 of 300 Spartans and released them, though all 
 abler men, and better haired than Gylippus ! 
 
 Timaeus says, the Sicilians set no great value 
 upon Gylippus. For in a little time they dis- 
 covered his sordid avarice and meanness ; and, 
 at his first appearance, they laughed at his cloak 
 and head of hair. Yet the same historian relates, 
 that as soon as Gylippus showed him.self, the 
 Sicilians gathered about him, as birds do about 
 an owl, and were ready to follow him wherever 
 he pleased. And the latter account has more 
 truth in it than the former. In the staff and 
 cloak they beheld the symbols of the Spartan 
 dignity, and therefore repaired to them. Thu- 
 cydides also tells us, that Gylippus was the only 
 
 man who saved Sicily ; and Phylistus, a citizen 
 of Syracuse, and an eye-witness of those trans- 
 actions, does the same. 
 
 In the first engagement the Athenians had the 
 advantage, and killed some of the Syracusans. 
 Gongylus of Corinth fell at the same time. But 
 the next day, Gylippus showed them of what 
 consequence experience in a general is ; with the 
 very same arms and horses, and on the same 
 spot, by only altering his order of battle,* he beat 
 the Athenians, and drove them to their camp. 
 Then taking the stones and other materials 
 which they had brought for their wall, he con- 
 tinued the cross wall of the Syracusans, and cut 
 through theirs in such a manner, that if they 
 gained a victory, they could make no advantage 
 of it. 
 
 Encouraged by this success, the Syracusans 
 manned several vessels ; and beating about the 
 country with their cavalry and allies, they made 
 many prisoners. Gylippus applied to the towns 
 in person, and they readily listened to him and 
 lent him all the assistance in their power. So 
 that Nicias, relapsing into his former fears and 
 despondence, at the sight of such a change of 
 affairs, applied to the Athenians by letter, either 
 to send another army, or to recall that which he 
 had ; and at the same time he desired them by 
 all means to dismiss him from the command, on 
 account of his infirmities. 
 
 The Athenians had designed some time before 
 to send another army into Sicily ; but the envy 
 which the first success of Nicias had excited, had 
 made them put it off upon several pretences. 
 Now, however, they hastened the succours. 
 They likewise came to a resolution, that De- 
 mosthenes should go in the spring with a respect- 
 able fleet; and that Eurymedon,t without waiting 
 till winter was over, should carry money to pay 
 the troops, and acquaint Nicias that the people 
 had pitched upon Euthydemus and Menander, 
 officers who then served under him, to assist him 
 in his charge. 
 
 Meantime, Nicias was suddenly attacked both 
 by sea and land. At first, part of his fleet was 
 worsted ; but in the end he proved victorious, 
 and sunk many of the enemy’s ships. He could 
 not, however, succour his troops by land, as the 
 exigence of the case required. Gylippus made a 
 sudden attack upon the fort of Plemmyrium, and 
 took it ; by which means he became master of 
 the naval stores of the Athenians, and a great 
 quantity of treasure, which had been lodged 
 there. Most of the garrison were either killed or 
 taken prisoners. But, what was still a greater 
 blow to Nicias, by the loss of this place he lost 
 the convenience of his convoys. For, while he 
 had Plemmyrium, the communication was safe 
 and easy ; but when that was taken, his supplies 
 could not reach him without the utmost difficulty, 
 because his transports could not pass without 
 fighting the enemy’s ships, which lay at anchor 
 under the fort. 
 
 Besides, the Syracusans thought their fleet was 
 
 * He had the address to impute the late defeat 
 to himself, and to assure his men that their be- 
 haviour was irreproachable. He said, that by 
 ranging them the day before between walls, 
 where their cavalry and archers had not room to 
 act, he had prevented their conquering, 
 t Eurymedon went with ten galleys. 
 
JVICIAS. 
 
 beaten, not by any superior strength they had to 
 combat, but by their going in a disorderly manner 
 upon the pursuit. They therefore fitted out a 
 most respectable fleet, in order for another action. 
 Nicias, however, did not choose at present to try 
 the issue of another naval fight, but declared it 
 very absurd, when a large reinforcement of ships 
 and fresh troops were hastening to him under the 
 conduct of Demosthenes, to hazard a battle with 
 a force so much inferior and so ill provided. 
 
 On the other hand, Menander and Euthydemus, 
 who were appointed to a temporary share in the 
 command, were led by their ambition and 
 jealousy of Demosthenes and Nicias, to strike 
 some extraordinary stroke, in order to be before- 
 hand with the one, and to outdo the mo.st shining 
 actions of the other. Their pretence was the 
 glory of Athens, which they said would be utterly 
 lost if they showed any fear of the Syracusan 
 fleet, ^bus they overruled Nicias and gave 
 battle. But they were soon defeated by a 
 stratagem of Ariston the Corinthian, who was 
 a most excellent seaman.* Their left wing, as 
 Ihucydides relates, was entirely routed, and 
 they lost great numbers of their men. 'i his loss 
 threw Nicias into the greatest consternation. He 
 reflected upon the checks he had met with while 
 lie had the sole command, and that he had now 
 miscarried again through the obstinacy of his 
 colleagues. 
 
 While he was indulging these reflections, De- 
 mosthenes appeared before the fort with a very 
 gallant and formidable fleet. He had 73 galleys I 
 on board of which were 5000 heavy armed 
 soldiers; and archers, spearmen, and slingers, 
 to the number of 3000. Their armour glittered, 
 the streamers waved, and the prows of the ships 
 were adorned with a variety of rich paintings. 
 He advanced with loud cheers and martial music, 
 and the whole was conducted in a theatrical 
 manner, to strike terror into the enemy. 
 
 Ihe Syracusans were ready to fall into de.spair 
 1 ‘^^^ce to their miseries ; 
 
 their labours and conflicts were all to begin anew 
 and they had been prodigal of their blood to no 
 purpose. Nicias, however, had not long to re- 
 joice at the arrival of such an army. At the 
 flrst interview, Demosthenes wanted him to attack 
 the enemy that they might take Syracuse by an 
 inimediate and decisive stroke, and return again 
 with glory to Athens. Nicias, astonished at his 
 heat and precipitation, desired him to adopt no 
 rash or desperate measures. He assured him, 
 delay would make against the enemy, since they 
 were already in want of money, and their allies 
 would soon quit both them and their cause. 
 Consequently when they began to feel the hard 
 hand of necessity, they would apply to him 
 again, and surrender upon terms, as they were 
 
 a private 
 
 understanding with several persons in Syracuse, 
 
 371 
 
 captains of the galleys to 
 
 shore on the 
 
 fnto ® r Athenians imagined they went 
 
 deceiveH Athenians, thus 
 
 In the mel likewise. 
 
 Syracusans, having made 
 the re-embarked, and attacked 
 
 t Diodorus Siculus makes them 310. 
 
 who advised him to wait with patience, because 
 the inhabitants were tired out with the war, 
 and weary of Gylippus ; and when their neces- 
 sities should become a little more pressing, they 
 would give up the dispute. ^ 
 
 As Nicias mentioned these things in an eniz- 
 matical manner, and did not choose to speak out 
 It gave occasion to the other generals to accuse 
 him of timidity. “ He is coming upon us,” said 
 they, with his old delays, dilatory, slow, over 
 cautious counsels, by which the vigour and 
 ardour of his iroops were lost. When he should 
 have led them 011 immediately, he waited till 
 their spirit was gone, and the enemy began to 
 look upon them with contempt.” The other 
 othcers, therefore, listened to Demosthenes, and 
 JNicias at last was forced to give up the point. 
 
 Upon this, Demosthenes put himself at the 
 head of the land forces, and attacked Epipolse in 
 the night. As he came upon the guards by sur- 
 prise, he killed many of them, and routed those 
 who stood upon their defence. Not content with 
 this advantage, he proceeded till he came to the 
 quarter where the Boeotians were posted. These 
 closed their ranks, and first charged the Athe- 
 nians advancing with levelled pikes and with all 
 the alarm of voices; by which means they re- 
 pulsed them, and killed a considerable number, 
 lerror and confusion spread through the rest of 
 the arrny. They who still kept their ground, and 
 were victorious, were encountered by those that 
 fled , and they who were marching down from 
 ^pipolae to support the foremost bands, were put 
 m disorder by the fugitives; for they fell foul of 
 one another, and took their friends for enemies, 
 ihe confusion, indeed, was inexpressible, occa- 
 sioned by their fears, the uncertainty of their 
 niovements, and the impossibility of discerning 
 olyects as they could have wished, in a night 
 which was neither quite dark nor sufficieiidy 
 moon being near her setting, and the 
 little light she gave rendered useless by the 
 shade ot so many bodies and weapons moving to 
 and fro. Hence the apprehensions of meeting 
 with an enemy made the Athenians suspect their 
 friends, and threw them into the utmost per- 
 plexity and distress. They happened, too, to 
 have the moon upon their backs, which casting 
 their shadows before them, both hid the number 
 of their men and the glittering of their arms ; 
 whereas the reflection trom the shields of the 
 enemy made them appear more numerous, and 
 better armed than they really were. At last 
 *^beir backs, and were entirely routed* 
 Ihe enemy pressed hard upon them on all sides’ 
 and killed great numbeis. Many others met 
 their death in the weapons of their friends. Not 
 a few fell headlong from the rocks or walls. The 
 rest were dispersed about the fields, where they 
 were picked up the next morning by the cavalry 
 and put to the sword. The Athenians lost 2000 
 rnen in this action ; and very few returned with 
 their arms to the head quarters. 
 
 This was a severe blow to Nicias, though it 
 was what he expected ; and he inveighed against 
 the rash proceedings of Demo.sthenes. That 
 general defended himself as well as he could, but 
 at the same time gave it as his opinion, that 
 they should embark and return home as fast as 
 possible. “We cannot hope,” said he, “either 
 for another army, or to conquer with the forces 
 we have. Nay, supposing we had the advan- 
 
372 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 tage, we ought to relinquish a situation, which is 
 well known at all times to be unhealthy for the 
 troops, and which now we find still more latal 
 from the season of the year." It was, indeed, the 
 beginning of autumn : numbers were sick, and 
 the whole army was dispirited. 
 
 NeverthelcNS, Nicias could not bear to hear of 
 returning home ; not that he was afraid of any 
 opposition from the Syracusans, but he dreaded 
 the Athenian tribunals and unfair impeachments 
 there. He therefore replied, that there was no 
 great and visible danger at present ; and if there 
 were, he had rather die by the hands of the 
 enenty than those of his fellow citizens. In this 
 respect he greatly differed from Leo of Byzan- 
 tium, who afterwards said to his countrymen, 
 
 “ I had rather die with you than for you.” 
 Nicias added, that if it should appear neces- 
 sary to encamp in another place, they might con- 
 sider of it at their leisure. 
 
 Demosthenes urged the matter no farther, 
 because his former counsels had proved unfor- 
 tunate. And he was more willing to submit, 
 because he saw others persuaded that it was the 
 dependence Nicias had on his correspondence in 
 the town which made him so strongly oppose 
 their return to Athens. But as fresh forces came 
 to the assistance of the Syracusans, and the sick- 
 ness prevailed more and more in the Athenian 
 camp, Nicias himself altered his opinion, and 
 ordered the troops to be ready to embark. 
 
 Everything accordingly was prepared for em- 
 barkation, and the enemy paid no attention to 
 these movements, because they did not expect 
 them. But in the night there happened an 
 eclipse of the moon, at which Nicias and all the 
 rest were struck with a great panic, either through 
 ignorance or superstition. As for an eclipse of 
 the sun, which happens at the conjunction, even 
 the common people had some idea of its being 
 caused by the interposition of the moon : but they 
 could not easily form a conception, by the inter- 
 position of what body, the moon, when at the 
 full, should suddenly lose her light, and assume 
 such a variety ot colours. They looked upon it 
 therefore as a strange and preternatural pheno- 
 menon, a sign by which the gods announced 
 some great calamity. 
 
 Anaxagoras was the first who with any clear- 
 ness and certainty showed in what manner the 
 moon was illuminated and overshadowed. But 
 he was an author of no antiquity,^ nor was his 
 treatise much known ; it was confined to a few 
 hands, and communicated with caution and under 
 the seal of secrecy. For the people had an aver- 
 sion to natural philosophers and those who were 
 then called Meteor oleschce {inq 7 urers into the 
 nature of meteors), supposing that they injured 
 the divine power and providence by ascribing 
 things to insensate causes, unintelligent powers, 
 and inevitable necessity. Protagoras was forced 
 to fly on account of such a system ; and Anax- 
 agoras was thrown into prison, from whence 
 Pericles with great difficulty got him delivered. 
 Even Socrates, t who meddled not with physics, 
 
 * He was contemporary with Pericles, and with 
 Nicias too ; for he died the first year of the 
 eighty-eighth olympiad, and Nicias was killed 
 the fourth year of the ninety-first. 
 
 t Socrates tells us in his apology, that he had 
 been accused of a criminal curiosity in prying 
 
 lost his life for philosophy. At last the glory of 
 Plato enlightened the world, and his doctrine was 
 generally received, both on account of his life, 
 and his subjecting the necessity of natural causes 
 to a more powerful and divine principle. Thus 
 he removed all suspicion o impiety from such 
 researches, and brought the study of mathe- 
 matics into fashion. Hence it was that his friend 
 Dion, though the moon was ecLpsed at the time 
 of his going from Zacynthus against Dionysius, 
 was not in the least disconcerted, but pursued 
 his voyage, and expelled the tyrant. 
 
 It was a great unhappiness to Nicias, that he 
 had not then with him an able diviner. Stilbides, 
 whom he employed on such occas ons, and who 
 used to lessen the influence of his superstition, 
 died a little before. Supposing the eclipse a 
 prodigy, it could not, as Philochorus observes, be 
 inauspicious to those who wanted to fly, but on 
 the contrary, very favourable ; for whatever is 
 transacted with fear seeks the shades of dark- 
 ness ; light is the worst enemy. Besides, on 
 other occasions, as Auticlides* * remarks, in his 
 Commentaries, there were only three days that 
 people refrained from business after an eclipse of 
 either sun or moon ; whereas Nicias wanted to 
 stay another entire revolution of the moon, as if 
 he could not see her as bright as ever, the mo- 
 ment she passed the shadow caused by the inter- 
 position of the earth. 
 
 He quitted, however, almost every other care, 
 and sat still observing his sacrifices, till the 
 enemy came upon him, and invested his walls and 
 intrenchments with their land forces, as well as 
 circled the harbour with their fleet. Not only the 
 men from the ships, but the very boys from fish- 
 ing-boats and small barks, challenged the Athe- 
 nians to come out, and offered them every kind of 
 insult. One of these boys, named Heraclides, 
 who was of one of the best families in Syracuse, 
 advancing too far, was pursued by an Athenian 
 vessel, and very near being taken. His uncle 
 Polhchus, seeing his danger, made up with ten 
 galleys which were under his command ; and 
 others, in fear for Pollichus, advanced to support 
 him. A sharp conflict ensued, in which the 
 Syracusans were victorious, and Eurymedon and 
 numbers more were killed. 
 
 The Athenians not brooking any farther delay, 
 with great indignation called upon their generals 
 to lead them off by land. For the Syracusans, 
 immediately after the victory, blocked up the 
 harbour. Nicias, however, would not agree to 
 it ; thinking it a cruel thing to abandon so many 
 ships of burden and near 200 galleys. He there- 
 fore embarked his best infantry’’, and a select 
 number of archers and spearmen, and manned 
 with them no galleys, as far as his rowers would 
 supply them. The rest of his troops he drew up 
 on the shore ; abandoning his great camp and his 
 walls which reached to the temple ot Hercules. 
 The Syracusans had not for a long time offered 
 the usual sacrifices to that deity, but now both 
 
 into the heavens and into the abysses of the 
 earth. However, he could not be said to lose 
 his life for his philosophy so much as for his 
 theology. 
 
 * This should probably be read Anticlides : for 
 he seems to be the same person whom Plutarch 
 has mentioned in the life of Alexander, and in his 
 Isis and Osiris. 
 
NICIAS. 
 
 373 
 
 the priests and generals went to observe the 
 solemnity. 
 
 Their troops were embarked ; and the inspec- 
 tors of the entrails promised the Syracusans a 
 glorious victory, provided they did not begin the 
 attack, but only repelled force with force. For 
 Hercules, they said, was victorious only in stand- 
 ing upon the defensive, and waiting to be at- 
 tacked. Thus instructed, the Syracusans set out. 
 
 Then the great sea-fight began; remarkable 
 not only lor the vigour that was exerted, but for 
 its causing as great a variety of passion and agita- 
 tion in the spectators as in the combatants them- 
 selves. For those who looked on from the shore 
 could discern every different and unexpected turn 
 it took. The Athenians suffered not more harm 
 from the enemy than they did from their own 
 order of battle and the nature of their arma- 
 ment. Their ships were all crowded together, 
 and were heavy and unwieldy besides, while 
 those of the enemy were so light and nimble, that 
 they could easily change their situation, and 
 attack the Athenians on all sides. Add to this, 
 that the Syracusans were provided with a vast 
 quantity of stones which seldom tailed of their 
 effect, wherever discharged : and the Athenians 
 had nothing to oppose to them but darts and 
 arrows, the flight of which was so diverted by the 
 motion of the ship, that few of them could reach 
 their mark. The enemy was put upon this ex- 
 pedient by Ariston the Corinthian, who, after he 
 had given great proofs of his courage and ability, 
 fell the moment that victory was declaring for 
 the Syracusans. 
 
 After this dreadful defeat and loss, there was 
 no possibility of escaping by sea. At the same 
 tune the Athenians saw it was extremely difficult 
 to save themselves by land. In this despair they 
 neither opposed the enemy, who were seizing 
 their vessels close to the shore, nor demanded 
 their dead. They thought it not. so deplorable a 
 circumstance to leave the dead without burial, as 
 to abandon the sick and wounded. And though 
 they had great miseries before their eyes, they 
 looked upon their own case as still more unhappy, 
 since they had many calamities to undergo, and 
 were to meet the same fate at last. 
 
 They did, however, design to begin their march 
 in the night. Gylippus saw the Syracusans em- 
 ployed in sacrifices to the gods, and in entertain- 
 ing their friends on account of the victory, and 
 the feast of Hercules ; and he knew that neither 
 entreaty nor force would prevail with them to 
 leave the joys of festivity, and oppose the enemy’s 
 flight. But * Hermocrates found out a method 
 to impose upon Nicias. He sent persons in whom 
 he could confide, who were to pretend that they 
 came from the old correspondents of that general 
 within the town ; and that their bu.siness was to 
 desire him not to march in the night, because the 
 Syracusans had laid several ambushes for him, 
 and seized all the passes. The stratagem had its 
 effect. Nicias sat still, in the simplicity of his 
 heart, fearing he should really fall into the enemy’s 
 snares. In the morning the enemy got out before 
 him. Then indeed they did seize all the difficult 
 
 ^ * Hermocrates was sensible of what importance 
 prevent Nicias from retiring by land. 
 With an army of 40,000 men which he had still 
 M "^^Sht have fortified himself in some part 
 of Sicily, and renewed the war. 
 
 passes ; they threw up works against the fords, 
 broke down the bridges, and planted their cavalry 
 wherever the ground was open and even ; so that 
 the Athenians could not move one step without 
 fighting. 
 
 These poor men lay close all that day and the 
 night following, and then began their march with 
 tears and loud lamentations ; as if they had been 
 going to quit their native country, not that of the 
 enerny. They were, indeed, in great want of 
 provisions, and it was a miserable circumstance 
 to leave their sick and wounded friends and 
 comrades behind them ; yet they looked upon 
 their present misfortunes as small in comparison 
 of those they had to expect. 
 
 But among the various spectacles of misery, 
 there was not one more pitiable than Nicias him- 
 seh : oppressed as he was with sickness, and 
 unworthily reduced to hard diet and a scanty 
 provision, when his infirmities required a liberal 
 supply. Yet in spite of his ill health, he acted 
 and endured many things which the most robust 
 underwent not without difficulty. All this while 
 his troops could not but observe, it was not for 
 his own sake, or any attachment to life, that he 
 submitted to such labours, but that he seemed 
 still to cherish hope on their account. When 
 sorrow and fear brought others to tears and com- 
 plaints, if Nicias ever dropped a tear among the 
 rest, it was plain he did it from a reflection on 
 the miserable and disgraceful issue of the war, 
 which he hoped to have finished with great honour 
 and success. Nor was it only the sight of his 
 present misery that moved them, but when they 
 recollected the speeches and warnings by which 
 he endeavoured to dissuade the people from the 
 expedition, they could not but think his lot much 
 more unhappy than he deserved. All their hopes, 
 too, of assistance from heaven abandoned them, 
 when they observed that so religious a man as 
 Nicias, one who had thought no expense too great 
 in the service of the gods, had no better fortune 
 than the meanest and most profligate person in 
 the army. 
 
 Notwithstanding all these difficulties, he still 
 enoeavoured, by the tone of his voice, by his 
 looks, and every expression of kindness to the 
 soldiers, to show himself superior to his mis- 
 fortunes. Nay, through a march of eight days, 
 though attacked and harassed all the way by the 
 enemy, he preserved his own division of the army 
 tolerably entire ; till Demosthenes was taken 
 prisoner, and the troops he had the conduct of 
 were surrounded, after a brave resistance, at a 
 small place called Polyzelium. Demosthenes then 
 drew his sword and stabbed himself, but as the 
 enemy came immediately upon him and seized him, 
 he had not time to give himself the finishing stroke. 
 
 Some Syracusans rode up to Nicias with this 
 news, and he sent a few of his own cavalry to 
 know the certainty. Finding, from their account, 
 that Demosthenes and his party were really 
 prisoners, he begyed to treat with Gylippus, and 
 offered hostages for paying the Syracusans the 
 whole charge of the war, on condition they would 
 suffer the Athenians to quit Sicily. The Syra- 
 cusans rejected the proposals with every mark of 
 insolence and outrage, and fell again upon a 
 wretched man, who was in want of all manner of 
 necessaries.* 
 
 * But were these brave people to blame? Was 
 
374 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 He defended himself, however, all that night, 
 and continued his march the next day to the river 
 Asinarus. The enemy galled his troops all the 
 way, and, when they came to the banks of the 
 river, pushed them in. Nay, some, impatient to 
 quench their burning thirst, voluntarily plunged 
 into the stream. Then followed a most cruel 
 scene of blood and slaughter ; the poor wretches 
 being massacred as they were drinking. At last, 
 Nicias threw himself at the feet of Gyhppus, and 
 said, “ Gylippus, you should show some com- 
 passion amidst your victory. I ask nothing for 
 myself. What is life to a man, whose misfortunes 
 are even proverbial? But, with respect to the 
 other Athenians, methinks you should^ remember 
 that the chance of war is uncertain, and with what 
 humanity and moderation they treated you, when 
 they were victorious.” 
 
 Gylippus was somewhat affected both at the 
 sight of Nicias, and at his speech. He knew the 
 good offices he had done the Lacedaemonians at 
 the last treaty of peace ; and he was sensible it 
 would contribute greatly to his honour, if he 
 could take two of the enemy’s generals prisoners. 
 Therefore, raising Nicias from the ground, he 
 bade him take courage ; and gave orders that the 
 other Athenians should have quarter. But as 
 the order was slowly communicated, the number 
 of those that were saved was greatly inferior to 
 that of the slain ; though the soldiers spared 
 several unknown to their officers. 
 
 When thi Syracusans had collected all the 
 prisoners they could find into one body, they 
 dressed some of the tallest and straightest trees 
 that grew by the river, as trophies, with the arms 
 they had taken from the enemy. After which 
 they marched homeward, with garlands on their 
 heads, and with their horses adorned in the most 
 splendid manner ; having first shorn those of the 
 Athenians. Thus they entered the city, as it 
 were in triumph, after the happy termination of 
 the .sharpest dispute that ever subsisted between 
 Grecians, and one of the most complete victories 
 the sun ever beheld, gained by a glorious and 
 persevering exertion of firmness and valour. 
 
 A general assembly of the people of Syracuse 
 and of its allies was then held, in which Eurycles* * 
 the orator proposed a decree, that, in the first 
 place, the day they took Nicias should be observed 
 as a festival, with the title or Asinaria, from the 
 river where that great event took place, and that 
 it should be entirely employed in sacrifices to the 
 gods. This was the twenty-seventh day of the 
 month Carfietcs, called by the Athenians Meta- 
 git7iion.\ As to the prisoners, he proposed that 
 the Athenian servants and all the allies should be 
 sold for slaves; that such of the Athenians as 
 were freemen, and the Sicilians their partisans, 
 should be confined to the quarries ; and that the 
 generals should be put to death. As the Syra- 
 
 it not natural for them to use every means in their 
 power to harass and weaken an enemy, who had 
 ambitiously considered their country as a pro- 
 perty? 
 
 * Diodorus Siculus calls him Diodes. 
 
 t Though it is not easy, as we have observed 
 in a former note, to bring the Grecian months to 
 tally with ours, yet we agree in this place with 
 Dacier, that September is probably meant, or 
 part of it ; because Plutarch had said above, that 
 the sickness had set in with autumn. 
 
 cusans accepted the bill, Hermocrates rose up 
 and said, it was a more glorious thing to make 
 a good use of a victory than to gain one. But 
 his motion raised a great ferment in the assembly. 
 Gylippus expressing his desire to have the Athe- 
 nian generals, that he might carry them prisoners 
 to Lacedaemon, the Syracusans, now grown inso- 
 lent with their good fortune, loaded him with re- 
 proaches. Indeed, they could not well bear his 
 severity and Lacedaemonian rigour in command, 
 while the war lasted. Besides, as Timaeus ob- 
 serves, they had discovered in him an avarice 
 and meanness, which was a disease he inherited 
 from his father Cleandrides, who was banished 
 for taking of bribes. The son, out of the thousand 
 talents which Lysander sent by him to Sparta, 
 purloined thirty, and hid them under the tiles 
 of his house. Being detected in it, he fled his 
 country with the utmost disgrace; as we have 
 related more at large in the life of Lysander. 
 
 Timseus does not agree with Philistus and 
 Thucydides, that Demosthenes and Nicias were 
 stoned to death by the Syracusans. Instead of 
 that, he tells us, that Hermocrates sent one of his 
 people, to acquaint those two generals with what 
 was passing in the assembly, and the messengers 
 being admitted by the guards before the court 
 was dismissed, the unhappy men despatched 
 themselves Their bodies were thrown without 
 the gates, and lay there exposed to the view of 
 all those who wanted to enjoy the spectacle. I 
 am in.orm-d that a shield, said to be that of 
 Nicias, is shown to this day in one of the temples 
 at .Syracuse ; the exterior texture of which is gold 
 and purple, and executed with surprising art. 
 
 As to the other Athenians, the greatest part 
 perished in the quarries to which they were con- 
 fined, by diseases and bad diet ; for they were 
 allowed only a pint of barley a day, and half a 
 pint of water. Many of those who were con- 
 cealed by the soldiers, or escaped by passing as 
 servants, were sold for slaves, and stigmatized 
 with the figure of a horse upon their foreheads. 
 Several of these, however, submitted to their fate 
 with patience ; and the modesty and decency 
 with which they behaved were such, that they 
 were either soon released, or treated in their 
 servitude with great respect by their masters. 
 
 Some there were who owed their preservation 
 to Euripides. Of all the Grecians, his was the 
 muse whom the Sicilians were most in love with. 
 From every stranger that landed in their island, 
 they gleaned every small specimen or portion of 
 his works, and communicated it with pleasure to 
 each other. It is said that on this occasion a 
 number of Athenians, upon their return home, 
 went to Euripides, and thanked him in the most 
 respectful manner for their obligations to his pen ; 
 some having been enfranchised for teaching their 
 masters what they remembered of his poems, and 
 others having got refreshments when they were 
 wandering about after the battle, for singing a 
 few of his verses. Nor is this to be wondered 
 at, since they tell us, that when a ship from 
 Caunus, which happened to be pursued by pirates, 
 was going to take shelter in one of their ports, 
 the Sicilians at first refused to admit her ; upon 
 asking the crew whether they knew any of the 
 verses of Euripides, and being answered in the 
 affirmative, they received both them and their 
 vessel. 
 
 The Athenians, we are told, did not give credit 
 
MARCUS CRASSUS. 
 
 to the first news of this misfortune ; the person 
 who brought it not appearing to deserve their 
 notice. It seems, a stranger who landed in the 
 Piraeus, as he sat to be shaved in a barber s shop, 
 spoke of it as an event already known to the 
 Athenians. The barber no sooner heard it, but, 
 before the stranger could communicate it to any 
 other person, he ran into the city ; and applying 
 to the magistrates, informed them of the news in 
 open court. 1 rouble and dismay seized all that 
 heard it. The magistrates immediately sum- 
 moned an assembly, and introduced the informant. 
 There he was interrogated, of whom he had the 
 intelligence ; and, as he could give no clear and 
 pertinent answer, he was considered as a forger of 
 
 false news and a public incendiary.* In this 
 light he was fastened to the wheel, where he bore 
 the torture for some time, till at le. gth some 
 •credible persons arrived, who gave a distinct 
 account of the whole disaster. With so much 
 difficulty did the misfortunes ofNicias find credit 
 among the Athenians, though he had often fore- 
 warned them that they would certainly happen. 
 
 * Casaubon would infer from hence, that the 
 Athenians had a law for punishing the forgers of 
 ■ alse news. But this person was punished, not so 
 much as a forger of false news as a public incen- 
 diary, who, by exciting groundless terrors in the 
 people, aided and abetted their enemies. 
 
 MARCUS CRASSUS. 
 
 Marcus Crassus, whose father had borne the 
 office of censor, and been honoured with a 
 triumph, was brought up in a small house with 
 his two brothers. These married while their 
 parents were living, and they all ate at the same 
 table. This, we may suppose, contributed not a 
 little to render him sober and m oderate in his 
 diet. Upon the death of one of his brothers, he 
 took the widow and children into his house. 
 W^ith respect to women, there was not a man in 
 Rome more regular in his conduct ; though, 
 when somewhat advanced in years, he was sus- 
 pected of a criminal commerce with one of the 
 vestal vh-gins named Licinia. Licinia was im- 
 peached by one Plotinus, but acquitted upon 
 trial. It seems the vestal had a beautiful country- 
 house, \yhich Crassus wanting to have at an 
 under-price, paid his court to the lady with great 
 ^siduity, and thence fell under that suspicion. 
 His judges, knowing that avarice was at the 
 bottom of all, acquitted him of the charge of 
 corrupting the vestal : and he never let her rest 
 till she had sold him her house. 
 
 The Romans say, Crassus had only that one 
 vice of avarice, which cast a shade upon his 
 many virtues. He appeared, indeed, to have but 
 one bad quality, because it was so much stronger, 
 and moie powerful than the rest, that it quite 
 obscured them. His love of money is very 
 evident from the size of his estate, and his man- 
 ner of raising it. At first it did not exceed 
 3^ talents. But, during his public employments, 
 after he had consecrated the tenth of his sub- 
 .stance to Hercules, given an entertainment to the 
 people, and a supply of bread corn to each 
 citizen for three months, he found, upon an exact 
 computation, that he was master of 7100 talents 
 Ihe greatest part of this fortune, if we may 
 declare the truth, to his extreme disgrace, was 
 gleaned from war and from fires ; for he made a 
 traffic of the public calamities. When Sylla had 
 takp Rome, and sold the estates of those whom 
 had put to death, which he both reputed and 
 called the spoils of his enemies, he was desirous 
 to involve all persons of con.sequeiice in his crime 
 ana he found in Crassus a man who refused no 
 Kind of gift or purchase. 
 
 observed also how liable the city was 
 whirh frequently houses fell down; 
 
 i?, were owing to the weight of 
 
 the buildings, and their standing so close to- 
 
 gether.t In consequence of this, he provided 
 him.self with slaves who were carpenters and 
 masons, and went on collecting them till he had 
 upwards of 500. Then he made it his bu-siness 
 to buy houses that were on fire, and others that 
 joined upon them ; and he commonly had them 
 at a low price, by reason of the fear and distress 
 the owners were in about the event. Hence, in 
 time, he became master of great part of Rome, 
 but though he had so many workmen, he built 
 no more for himself than one house in which he 
 lived. For he used to say that those who love 
 building will soon rum themselves, and need no 
 other enemies. 
 
 Though he had several silver mines, and lands 
 ot great value, as well as labourers who turned 
 them to the best advantage, yet it may be truly 
 asserted that the revenue he drew from these 
 was nothing in comparison of that produced by 
 ms slaves. Such a number had he of them, and 
 all useiul in life, readers, amanuenses, book- 
 keepers, stewards, and cooks. He used to attend 
 to their education, and often gave them lessons 
 himself; esteeming it a principal part m the 
 business of a master to inspect and take care of 
 his servants, whom he considered as the livine 
 instruments of economy. In this he was cer- 
 tainly right, if he thought, as he often said, that 
 other matters should be managed by servants, 
 but the servants by the master. Indeed, eco- 
 nomics, so far as they regard only inanimate 
 things, serve only the low purposes of gain ; but 
 where they regard human beings, they rise 
 ffigher,and form a considerable branch ot politics. 
 He was wrong, however, in saying, that no man 
 ought to be esteemed rich, who could not with 
 his own revenue maintain an army. For as 
 Archidamus observes, it never can be calculated 
 what such a monster as war will devour. Nor 
 con.sequently can it be determined what fortune 
 IS sufficient for its demands. Very different in 
 this respect were the sentiments of Cra sus from 
 those of Marius. When the latter had made a 
 distribution of lands among his soldiers at the 
 rate of fourteen acres a man, and found that 
 they wanted more, he said, “ I hope no Roman 
 
 t The streets were narrow and crooked, and 
 t^he housp chiefly of wood, after the Gauls had 
 burned the city. 
 
37<J 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 will ever think that portion of land too little 
 which is sufficient to maintain him.” 
 
 It must be acknowledged, that Crassus be- 
 haved in a generous manner to strangers ; his 
 house was always open to them. To which we 
 may add, that he used to lend money to his 
 friends without interest. Nevertheless, his rigour 
 in demanding his money the very day it was due, 
 often made his appearing favour a greater incon- 
 venience than the paying of interest would have 
 been. As to his invitations, they were most of 
 them to the commonalty ; and though there was 
 a simplicity in the provision, yet at the s ame 
 time there was a neatness and uncei'emonious 
 welcome, which made it more agreeable than 
 more expensive tables. 
 
 As to his studies, he cultivated oratory, most 
 particularly that of the bar, which had its 
 superior utility. And though he might not be 
 reckoned equal, upon the whole, to the first-rate 
 speakers, yet by his care and application he 
 exceeded those whom nature had favoured more. 
 For there was not a cause, however unimportant, 
 to which he did not come prepared. Besides, 
 when Pompey and Csesar and Cicero refused to 
 speak, he often rose and finished the argument 
 in favour of the defendant. This attention of 
 his to assist any unfortunate citizen v/as a very 
 popular thing : and his obliging manner in his 
 common address had an equal charm. There 
 was not a Roman, however mean and insig- 
 nificant, whom he did not salute, or whose 
 salutation he did not return by name. 
 
 His knowledge of his.ory is also said to have 
 been extensive, and he was not without a taste of 
 Aristotle’s philosophy. In the latter branch he 
 was assisted by a philosopher named Alex- 
 ander ; * a man who gave the most glorious 
 proofs of his disinterested and mild disposition, 
 during his acquaintance with Crassus. For it 
 is not easy to say, whether his poverty was 
 greater when he entered, or when he left his 
 house. He was the only friend that Crassus 
 would take with him into the country ; on which 
 occasions he would lend him a cloak for the 
 journey, but demand it again when he returned 
 to Rome. The patience of that man is truly 
 admirable, particularly if we consider that the 
 philosophy he proiessed did not look upon 
 poverty as a thing indifferent. f But this was a 
 later circumstance in the life of Crassus. 
 
 When the faction of Cinna and Marius pre- 
 vailed, it soon appeared that they were not 
 returning for any benefit to their country, but 
 for the ruin and destruction of the nobility. 
 Part of them they had already caught and put 
 to death ; among whom were the father and 
 brother of Crassus. Crassus himself, who was 
 then a very young man, escaped the present 
 danger. But, as he saw the tyrants had their 
 hunters beating about for him on all sides, he 
 took three friends and ten servants with him, 
 and fled with surprising expedition into Spain ; 
 where he had attended his father during his 
 
 * Xy lander conjectures this might be Alex- 
 ander the Milesian, who is called Polyhistor and 
 Cornelius ; and who is said to have flourished in 
 the times of Sylla. 
 
 t Aristotle’s, as well as Plato’s philosophy, 
 reckoned riches among real blessings, and looked 
 upon them as conducive to virtue. 
 
 prtetorship, and gained himself friends. There, 
 too, he found the minds of men full of terror, 
 and all trembling at the cruelty of Marius, as 
 if he had been actually present ; therefore he 
 did not venture to apply to any of his friends in 
 public. Instead of that, he went into a farm 
 which Vibius Placianus had contiguous to the 
 sea, and hid himself in a spacious cave there. 
 From thence he sent one of his servants to sound 
 Vibius ; for his provisions already began to fail. 
 Vibius, delighted to hear that he had escaped, 
 inquired the number of people he had with him, 
 and the place of his retreat. He did not wait 
 on him in person, but sent immediately for the 
 steward of that farm, and ordered him to dress 
 a supper every day, carry it to the foot of the 
 rock, and then retire in silence. He charged 
 him not to be curious in examining into the 
 affair, under pain of death ; and pi:omised him 
 his freedom, if he proved faithful in his commis- 
 sion. 
 
 The cave is at a small distance from the sea. 
 The_ surrounding rocks which form it admit only 
 a slight and agreeable brdath of air. A little 
 beyond the entrance, it is astonishingly lofty, 
 and the compass of it is so great, that it has 
 several large caverns, like a suit of rooms, one 
 within another. It is not destitute either of 
 water or light. A spring of excellent water flows 
 from the rock ; and there are small natural 
 apertures, where the rocks approach each other 
 at top, through which daylight is admitted. By 
 reason of the thickness of the rock, the interior 
 air too is pure and clear ; the foggy and moist 
 part of it being carried away with the stream. 
 
 Crassus, in this asylum, had his provisions 
 brought every day by the steward, who neither 
 saw nor knew him or his people, though he was 
 seen by them, because they knew his time, and 
 watched for his coming. And he brought not 
 only what was sufficient for use, but delicacies 
 too for pleasure. For Vibius had determined to 
 treat his friend with all imaginable kindness. 
 He reflected that some regard should be had to 
 his time of life, and as he was veiy young, that 
 he should have some particular indulgences on 
 that account. To supply his necessities only, he 
 thought, looked more like constraint than friend- 
 ship. Therefore, one day he took wnth him two 
 handsome maid servants, and walked towards 
 the sea. When they cahne to the cave, he 
 showed them the entrance, and bade them go 
 boldly in, for they had nothing to fear. Cras- 
 sus, seeing them, was afraid his retreat was 
 discovered, and began to examine who they 
 were, and w'hat they wanted. They answered 
 as they were instructed, that they were come 
 to seek their master who lay concealed there. 
 Upon which, he perceived, it was only a piece 
 of gallantry in Vibius, who studied to divert 
 him. He received the damsels, therefore, and 
 kept them all the time he stayed there ; and 
 they served to carry his messages to Vibius, 
 and to bring answers back. Fenestella says," 
 he saw one of them when she was very old, and 
 often heard her tell the story with pleasure. 
 
 * Fenestella wrote several books of annals. 
 He might very well have seen one of these 
 slaves when she was old ; for he did not die till 
 the sixth year of the reign of Tiberius, nor until 
 he was seventy years of age. 
 
MARCUS 
 
 Crassus spent eight months in this privacy, at 
 the end of which he received intelligence that 
 Cinna was dead. Then he immediately made his 
 appearance, and numbers repaired to him ; out 
 of which he selected a corps of 2500 men. With 
 these he visited the cities ; and most historians 
 agree, that he pillaged one called Malacca. But 
 others tell us, he absolutely denied it, and dis- 
 claimed the thing in the face of those who spread 
 the report. After this, he collected vessels, and 
 passed over into Africa, to join Metellus Pius, 
 an officer of great reputation, who had raised 
 considerable forces. He did not, however, stay 
 long there. Upon some difference with Metel- 
 lus, he applied himself to Sylla, who received 
 him with pleasure, and ranked him among his 
 principal friends. 
 
 When Sylla was returned to Italy, he chose to 
 keep the young men he had about him in exer- 
 cise, and sent them upon various commissions. 
 Crassus he despatched to levy troops among the 
 Marsi ; and, as his passage lay through the 
 enemy’s country, he demanded guards of Sylla. 
 
 I give thee for guards,” said he, in an angry 
 tone, “I give thee for guards, thy father, thy 
 brother, thy friends, thy relations, who have 
 been unjustly and abominably sacrificed, and 
 whose cause I am going to revenge upon their 
 murderers.” 
 
 Crassus, roused and inflamed with these 
 words, passed boldly through the midst of the 
 enemy : raised a considerable army, and showed 
 his attachment, as well as exerted his courage, in 
 afl Sylla’s conflicts. Hence, we are told, came 
 his first competition and dispute with Pompey 
 for the palm of honour. Pompey was the 
 younger man, and had this great disadvantage 
 besides, that his father was more hated than any 
 man in Rome. Yet his genius broke forth with 
 such lustre on these occasions, that Sylla treated 
 him with more respect than he generally showed 
 much older men, or even those of his own rank. 
 For he used to rise up at his approach, and 
 uncover his head, and salute him as Imperator. 
 
 Crassus was not a little piqued at these things, 
 though there was no reason for his pretensions. 
 He ;had not the capacity of Pompey ; besides, 
 his innate blemishes, his avarice and meanness, 
 robbed his actions of all their grace and dignity. 
 For instance, when he took the city of Tuder in 
 Umbria, he was supposed to have appropriated 
 the greatest part of the plunder to his own use, 
 and it was represented in that light to Sylla. It 
 is true, in the battle fought near Rome, which 
 was the greatest and most decisive of all, Sylla 
 was worsted, his troops repulsed, and a number 
 of them killed Meantime, Crassus, who com- 
 manded the right wing, was victorious, and 
 having pursued the enemy till night, sent to 
 inform Sylla of his success, and to demand re- 
 freshments for his men. 
 
 But in the time of the proscriptions and con- 
 fiscations, he lost all the credit he had gained ; 
 buying great estates at an under-price, and often 
 begging such as he had cast his eye upon. Nay, 
 in the country of the Brutians, he is said to have 
 proscribed one man without Sylla’s order, merely 
 to seize his fortune. Upon this, Sylla gave him 
 affair*^^ after employed him in any public 
 
 Though Crassus was an exquisite flatterer him- 
 seli, yet no man was more easily caught by 
 
 CRASSUS, 
 
 flattery than he. And what was very particular, 
 though he was one of the most covetous men in 
 the world, no man was more averse to, or more 
 severe against, such that resembled him.* But it 
 gave him still more pain to see Pompey so suc- 
 c^sful in all his employments, to see him honoured 
 with a triumph, and saluted by the citizens with 
 the title of the Great. One day he happened to 
 be told Pompey the Great was coming ; upon 
 which he answered with a scornful smile, “ How 
 big is he ? ” 
 
 _As^ he despaired of rising to an equality with 
 him in war, he betook himself to the administra- 
 tion ; and by paying his court, by defending the 
 impeached, by lending money, and by assisting 
 and canvassing for persons who stood for offices, 
 he gained an authority and influence equal to 
 that which Pompey acquired by his military 
 achieyenients. There was something remarkably 
 peculiar in their case. The name and interest of 
 Pompey were much greater in Rome, when he 
 was absent and t distinguishing himself in the 
 field. When present, Crassus often carried his 
 point against him. This must be imputed to the 
 state and grandeur that he affected : he seldom 
 showed _ himself in public, or appeared in the 
 assemblies of the people ; and he very rarely 
 served those who made application to him ; ima- 
 gining by that means he should have his interest 
 entire when he wanted it himself. Crassus, on 
 the contrary, had his services ever ready for 
 those who wanted them ; he constantly made 
 his appearance ; he was easy of access ; his life 
 was spent in business and good offices ; so that 
 his open and obliging manner got the better of 
 Pompey ’s distance and state. 
 
 As to dignity of person, powers of persuasion, 
 and engaging turn of countenance, we are told 
 they were the same. But the emulation with 
 which Crassus was actuated never carried him on 
 to hatred and malignity. It is true, he was con- 
 cerned to see Pompey and Caesar held in greater 
 honour, but jie did not add rancour and male- 
 volence to his ambition ; though Caesar, when 
 he was taken by pirates, in Asia, and strictly 
 confined, cried out, “ O Crassus, what pleasure 
 will it give thee to hear that I am taken ! ” 
 However, they were afterwards upon a footing 
 of friendship ; and when Caesar was going to set 
 out for his command in Spain, and his creditors 
 were ready to seize his equipage, because he 
 could not satisfy them, Crassus was kind enough 
 to deliver him from the embarrassment, by giving 
 security for 830 talents. 
 
 Rome was at this time divided into three 
 parties, at the head of which were Pompey, 
 Caesar, and Crassus. For, as to Cato, his repu- 
 tation was greater than his power, and his virtue 
 more admired than followed. The prudent and 
 steady part of the city were for Pompey ; the 
 violent and the enterprising gave in to the pros- 
 pects of Caesar ; Crassus steered a middle course, 
 and availed himself of both. Crassus, indeed, 
 
 * It was observed by the late ingenious Mr. 
 Shenstone, that a coxcomb will be the first to 
 find out and expose a coxcomb. Men of the 
 same virtues love each other for the sake of those 
 virtues ; but sympathy in vice or folly has gene- 
 rally a contrary effect. 
 
 t This was not peculiar to Pompey : it was 
 the case of Marius and many others. 
 
378 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 often changed sides, and neither was a firm friend 
 nor an implacable enemy. On the contrary, he 
 frequently gave up either his attachments or 
 resentments indifferently when his interest re- 
 quired it : insomuch that in a short space of time 
 he would appear either in support or opposition 
 to the same persons and laws. He had some 
 influence founded in love, and some in fear ; but 
 fear was the more serviceable principle of the 
 two. An instance of the latter we have in Li- 
 cinius, who was very troublesome to the magis- 
 trates and leading orators of his time. When he 
 was asked, why he did not attack Crassus among 
 the rest, he answered, “ He wears wisps upon 
 his horns.”* So the Romans used to serve a 
 vicious bull, for a warning to all persons that 
 passed him. 
 
 When the gladiators took up arms and ravaged 
 Italy, their insurrection was commonly called the 
 war of Spartacus. Its origin was this ; One 
 Lentulus Baiiatus kept at Capua a number of 
 gladiators, the greatest part of which were Gauls 
 and Thracians ; men not reduced to that employ- 
 ment for any crimes they had committed, but 
 forced upon it by the injustice of their master. 
 Two hundred of them, therefore, agreed to make 
 their escape. Though the plot was discovered, 
 threescore and eighteen of them, by their extreme 
 vigilance, were beforehand with their master, and 
 sallied out of town, having first seized all the 
 long knives and spits in a cook’s shop. On the 
 road they met some waggons carrying a quantity 
 of gladiators’ arms to another place. These they 
 seized, and armed themselves with them. Then 
 they retired to a place of strength, and made 
 choice of three leaders, t The first was Spar- 
 tacus, whose extraction was from one of those 
 Thracian hordes called Nomades. This man had 
 not only a dignity of mind, a strength of body, 
 but a discernment and civility superior to his 
 fortune. In short, he was more of a Greek than 
 a barbarian, in his manner. 
 
 It is said, that when he was first brought to 
 Rome to be sold, a serpent was seen twisted about 
 his face as he slept. His wife, who was of the 
 same tribe, having the gi t of divination, and 
 being a retainer besides to the orgies of Bacchus, 
 said, it was a sign that he would rise to some- 
 thing very great and formidable, the result of 
 which would be happy. J I'his woman still lived 
 with him, and was the companion of his flight. 
 
 The fugitives first distinguished themselves by 
 defeating a party sent against them from Capua ; 
 whose arms they seized and wore with great 
 satisfaction ; throwing away those of gladiators, 
 as dishonourable and barbarous. Clodius the 
 praetor § was then sent against them from Rome, 
 with a body of 3000 men ; and he besieged them 
 on the hill where they were posted. There was 
 but one ascent, which was very narrow and 
 rugged, and there he placed a sufficient guard. 
 The rest was all a craggy precipice, but covered 
 with wild vines. The lugitives cut off such of 
 the branches as might be of most service, and 
 
 * This passed into a proverb, 
 f Spartacus, Chrisus, and OEnomaus. This 
 war began in the year of Rome 680 ; before Christ 
 
 7 ^- . . . 
 
 + His end was happy for a gladiator. He died 
 fighting gallantly at the head of his troops, 
 
 § Clodius Glaber. 
 
 formed them into a ladder of sufficient strength, 
 and so long as to reach the plain beneath. By 
 the help of this ladder they all got down safe, 
 except one. This man remained above only to 
 let down their arms ; and when he had done that, 
 he descended after them. 
 
 The Romans knowing nothing of this man- 
 oeuvre, the gladiators came upon their rear, 
 and attacked them so suddenly, that they fled 
 in great consternation, and left their camp to the 
 enemy. Spartacus was there joined by the herds- 
 men and shepherds of the country, men of great 
 vigour and remarkably swift of foot. Some of 
 these he clad in heavy armour, and the rest served 
 as reconnoitring parties and for other purposes of 
 the light-armed. 
 
 The next general sent against these gladiators 
 was Publius Varinus. They first routed his 
 lieutenant Furius, who engaged them with a 
 detachment of 2000 men. After this Spartacus 
 watched the motions of Cossinius, who was ap- 
 pointed assistant and chief counsellor to Varinus, 
 and was now marching against him with a con- 
 siderable force. His vigilance was such, that he 
 was very near taking Cossinius in the bath at 
 Salense ; and though he did escape with much 
 difficulty, Spartacus seized his baggage. Then 
 he pursued his steps, and took his camp, having 
 first killed great numbers of the Romans. Cos- 
 sinius himself was among the slain. His sub- 
 sequent operations were equally decisive. He 
 beat Varinus in several engagements, and took his 
 lictors, and the very horse he rode. 
 
 By this time he was become great and formid- 
 able. Nevertheless his views were moderate : 
 he had too much understanding to hope the con- 
 quest of the Romans ; and therefore led his army 
 to the Alps, with an intention to cross them, and 
 then dismiss his troops, that they might retire to 
 their respective countries, some to Thrace, and 
 some to Gaul. But they, relying upon their 
 numbers, and elated with success, would not 
 listen to his proposal. Instead of that, they laid 
 Italy waste as they traversed it. 
 
 It was no longer the indignity and di.sgrace of 
 this revolt that afflicted the senate ; it was fear 
 and danger ; and they now employed both the 
 consuls in this war, as one of the most difficult 
 and important they ever had upon their hands. 
 Gelius, one of the consuls, having surprised a 
 body of Germans, who were so rash and self- 
 opinionated as to separate from the troops of 
 Spartacus, defeated them entirely and put them 
 to the sword. Lentulus, the other consul, endea- 
 voured to surround Spartacus, with his forces, 
 which were very considerable. Spartacus met 
 him fairly in the field, beat his lieutenants, and 
 stripped them of their baggage. He then con- 
 tinued his route towards the Alps, but was op- 
 posed by Cassius, who commanded in that part 
 of Gaul which lay about the Po, and came 
 against him at the head of 10,000 men. A battle 
 ensued, in which Cassius was defeated, with 
 great loss, and saved himself not without diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 No sooner were the senate informed of these 
 miserable proceedings, than they expressed the 
 greatest indignation against the consuls, and 
 gave orders that they should be superseded in 
 the command. Crassus was the person they 
 pitched upon as a successor, and many of the 
 nobility served under him, as volunteers, as well 
 
MARCUS CRASSUS. 
 
 on account of his political influence as from per- 
 sonal regard. He went and posted himself in the 
 Picene, in order to intercept Spartacus, who was 
 to march that way. At the same time he sent 
 his lieutenant Mummius round with two legions 
 giving him strict orders only to follow the enemy, 
 and by no means to hazard either battle or skir- 
 mish. Mummius, however, upon the first pro- 
 mising occasion, engaged Spartacus, and was 
 entirely routed. Numbers fell upon the field of 
 battle, and many others threw away their arms, 
 and fled for their lives. 
 
 Crassus gave Mummius a severe reprimand, 
 and new armed his men, but insisted withal that 
 they should find security for their keeping those 
 arms they were now entrusted with. The first 
 500, who had shown the greatest marks of 
 cowardice, he divided into fifty parts, and put 
 one in each decade to death, to whose lot it might 
 happjsn to fall ; thus reviving an ancient cu.stom 
 of military punishment which had been long dis- 
 used. Indeed, this kind of punishment is the 
 greatest mark of infamy, and being put in execu- 
 tion in sight of the whole army, is attended with 
 many awtul and affecting circumstances. 
 
 After thus chastising his men, he led them 
 against the enemy. But Spartacus turned back 
 and retired through Lucania to the sea. The 
 rebel happening to find a number of vessels in 
 harbour belonging to the Cilician pirates, re- 
 solved to make an attempt upon Sicily ; where, 
 at the head of 2000 men, he thought he could 
 easily rekindle the Servile war, which had but 
 l^ely been smothered,* and which wanted little 
 fuel to make it flame out again. Accordingly the 
 pirates entered into agreement with him ; but 
 t^hey had no sooner taken his money than they 
 broke their engagement, and sailed another way 
 Spartacus, thus deceived, left the sea, and in 
 trenched himself in the peninsula of Rhegiiim. 
 
 When Crassus came up, he observed that the 
 nature of the place suggested what measures he 
 should take ; in consequence of which he deter- 
 mined to build a wall across the isthmus. This, 
 he knew, would at once keep his soldiers frorn 
 idleness, and cut off the enemy's supplies. The 
 work was great and difficult : nevertheless he 
 finished it beyond all expectation, in a short 
 time ; drawing a trench from sea to sea 300 fur- 
 longs in length, fiiteen feet in breadth, and as 
 many in depth ; he built a wall also above it of 
 considerable height and strength. 
 
 Spartacus at first made a jest of the under- 
 taking, But, when his plunder began to fail, and 
 he wanted to go farther, he saw the wall before 
 him, and at the same time was conscious that the 
 peninsula was exhausted. He watched his oppor- 
 tunity, however, in a snowy and tempestuous 
 night, to fill up the trench with earth, wood, 
 and other materials : and so passed it with a 
 third part of his army. Crassus now began to 
 fear, that Spartacus, in the spirit of enterprise 
 would march immediately to Rome. But when 
 he observed that a number of the enemy upon 
 some difference or other, separated and en- 
 camped upon the Lucanian lake, he recovered 
 his spirits. The water of this lake is said to 
 change in such a manner, as sometimes to be 
 sweet and fresh, and at other times so salt that it 
 
 379 
 
 * It was but nineteen years before, that a 
 period was put to the Servile war in Sicily. 
 
 is impossible to drink it. Crassus fell upon this 
 party, and drove them from the lake, but could 
 not do any great execution, or continue the pursuit 
 
 t’l - Spartacus made his appearance, and 
 rallied the fugitives. 
 
 Crassus now repented of having written to the 
 senate, that it was necessary to recall Lucullus 
 from Thrace, and Pompey from Spain; and 
 hastened to finish the war himself Por he was 
 sensible that the general who should come to his 
 assistance would rob him of all the honour. He 
 resolved, therefore, in the first place, to attack the 
 troops which had revolted, and formed a separate 
 body, under the command of two officers named 
 Cannicius and Castus. With this view, he sent a 
 corps of 6000 men before to seize an eminence 
 which he thought would be of service to him, but 
 ordered them to conduct their enterprise with all 
 imaginable secrecy. I'hey observed his direc- 
 tions ; and to conceal their march the better 
 covered their helmets and the rest of their arms! 
 I wo women, however, who were .sacrificing 
 before the enemy’s camp, discovered them ; and 
 they would probably have met their fate, had not 
 Crassus advanced immediately, and given the 
 enemy battle. 1 his was the most obstinate action 
 in the whole war. Twelve thousand three hun- 
 dred of the enemy were killed, of which number 
 there were only two found wounded in the back ; 
 the rest died in their ranks, after the bravest 
 exertions of valour. 
 
 Spartacus, after this defeat, retired towards the 
 mountains of Petelia ; and Quintus, one of 
 Crassus's officers, and Scropha the qujestor, 
 marched after, to harass his rear. But, Spar- 
 tacus facing about, the Romans fled in the most 
 dastardly manner, and with great difficulty carried 
 off the qusestor, who was wounded. This success 
 was the ruin of Spartacus. It gave the fugitives 
 such spirits, that they would no longer decline a 
 decisive action, or be obedient to their officers; 
 but as they were upon the road, addressed them 
 with their swoids in their hands, and insisted on 
 marching back through Lucania with the utmost 
 expedition, to meet the Romans, and face Crassus 
 in the field. 
 
 This was the very thing that Crassus desired. 
 He was informed that Pompey was approaching ; 
 and of the many speeches to the people on occas.on 
 of the ensuing election, in which it was asserted, 
 that this laurel belonged to him, and that, as soon 
 as he made his appearance, he would by some 
 decisive stroke put an end to the war. 
 
 Crassus, therefore, hastened to give that stroke 
 himself, and, with the same view, encamped very 
 ijear the enemy. One day when he had ordered 
 nis soldiers to dig a trench, the gladiators attacked 
 them as they were at work. N umbers came up 
 continually on both sides to support the com- 
 batants : and at last Spartacus seeing what the 
 case necessarily required, drew out his whole 
 army. When they brought him his horse, he 
 drew his sword and killed him, saying at the 
 same time, ’‘If I prove victorious, I shall have 
 horses at command ; if I am defeated, I shall 
 have no need of this.” His aim was to find 
 Crassus, and he made his way through showers 
 of darts and heaps of the slain. He did not, 
 indeed, reach him, but he killed with his own 
 hand two centurions who ventured to engage him. 
 
 At last, those that seconded him fled. He, how- 
 ever, still stood his ground, and though surrounded 
 
38 o 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 by numbers, fought with great gallantry, till he 
 was cut in pieces. 
 
 Crassus, on this occasion, availed himself of 
 every circumstance with which Fortune favoured 
 him ; he performed every act of generalship ; he 
 exposed his person in the boldest manner ; yet he 
 was only wreathing a laurel for the brows of 
 Pompey. Pompey met, it seems, those who 
 escaped out ot the field, and put them to the 
 sword. In consequence of which, he wrote to 
 the senate, that Crassus had indeed beaten the 
 fugitive gladiators in a pitched battle ; but that 
 it was he who had cut up the war by the roots. ^ 
 
 Pompey, on his return to Rome, triumphed in 
 a magnificent manner for his conquest of Sertorius 
 and Spain. As for Crassus, he did not pretend 
 to ask for the greater triumph ; and even the less, 
 which is led up on foot, under the name of an 
 ovation, seemed to have no propriety or decorum 
 in the conquest of fugitive slaves. In what re- 
 spects this differs from the other, and whence the 
 term ovation is derived, we have considered in 
 the Life of Marcellus. 
 
 Pompey was immediately called to the consul- 
 ship ; and though Crassus had interest enough of 
 his own to encourage him to hope for the same 
 honour, yet he scrupled not to solicit his good 
 offices. Pompey received the application with 
 pleasure ; for he was desirous by all means to 
 have Crassus under an obligation to him. He, 
 therefore readily espoused his cause ; and, at 
 last, when he made his speech to the people, 
 said, he was as much indebted to them for the 
 colleague they had given him as for their favour 
 to himself. However, the same good under- 
 standing did not long continue ; they differed 
 about almost every article that came before them ; 
 and those disputes and altercations prevented 
 their doing anything considerable during their 
 whole consulship. The most remarkable thing 
 was, that Crassus offered a great sacrifice to Her- 
 cules, entertained the people at 10,000 tables, 
 and gave them a supply of bread-corn for three 
 months. 
 
 When they held one of the last assemblies 
 before they quitted their charge, a Roman 
 knight, named Onatius Aurelius, who had spent 
 most of his time in a retired manner in the 
 country, and was a man of no great note, mounted 
 the rostrum, and gave the people an account of 
 a vision that had appeared to him. “Jupiter,” 
 said he, “appeared to me in a dream, and com- 
 manded me to inform you in this public manner, 
 that you are not to suffer the consuls to lay down 
 their office before they are reconciled.” He had 
 no sooner ended his speech than the people insisted 
 that they should be reconciled. Pompey stood 
 without making any motion towards it, but 
 Crassus went and offered him his hand. “ I am 
 not ashamed, my fellow-citizens, ” said he, “ nor 
 do I think it beneath me, to make the first ad- 
 vances to Pompey, whom you distinguished with 
 the name of Great, while he was but a beardless 
 youth, and whom you honoured with a triumph 
 before he was a senator.” 
 
 These were the only memorable things in the 
 consulate of Crassus. As for his censorship, it 
 passed without anything worth mentioning.'^ He 
 made no inquisition into the lives and manners of 
 
 _ * He was censor six years after his consulship, 
 sixty-three years before the birth of Christ. 
 
 the senators ; he did not review the equestrian 
 order, or number the people. Lutacius Catulus, 
 one of the best natured men in the world, was his 
 colleague ; and it is said, that ^ when Crassus 
 wanted to adopt a violent and unjust measure, I 
 mean the making Egypt tributary to Rome, 
 Catalus strongly opposed it ; and hence arose that 
 difference, in consequence of which they resigned 
 their charge. 
 
 When the great conspiracy of Catiline, which 
 brought the commonwealth to the verge of 
 destruction, broke out, Crassus was suspected of 
 having some concern in it. Nay, there was one 
 who named him among the conspirators ; but no 
 one gave credit to his information.'^ It is true, 
 Cicero, in one of his orations, openly accuses both 
 Crassus and Caesar of that crime. But that 
 oration did not appear in public till both those 
 great men were dead. On the other hand, the 
 same Cicero, in the oration he delivered relating 
 to his consulship, expressly says, that Crassus 
 came to him one night, and put a letter in his 
 hands, which showed the reality of the plot into 
 which they were then inquiring. Be that as it 
 may, it is certain that Crassus after this conceived 
 a mortal hatred tor Cicero, and would have shown 
 it in some act of violence, had not his son 
 Publius prevented it. Publius was a man of 
 letters, and eloquence had a particular charm for 
 him : hence his attachment Jo Cicero was so 
 great, that when the bill for his banishment was 
 proposed, he went into mourning, and persuaded 
 the rest of the Roman youth to do the same. At 
 last, he even prevailed with his father to be 
 reconciled to him. 
 
 About this time, Csesar returned from his 
 government, to solicit the consulship. Finding 
 Crassus and Pompey again at variance, he would 
 not apply to either in particular, lest he should 
 make the other his enemy ; nor could he hope to 
 succeed without the assistance of one of them. 
 In this dilemma he determined, if possible, to 
 effect a good understanding once more between 
 them. For which purpose he represented, that, 
 by levelling their artillery against each other, 
 they raised the Ciceros, the Catuli, and the Catos ; 
 who would be nothing, if they were once real 
 friends, and took care to act in concert. _‘‘If 
 that were the case, ” said he, “ with your united 
 interests and counsels you might carry all before 
 you.” 
 
 These representations had their effect ; and, by 
 joining himself to the league, he formed that 
 inv.ncible triumvirate which ruined the senate 
 and people of Rome. Not that either Crassus or 
 Pompey gained any advantage from their union ; 
 
 Sallust says otheiwise. He tells us it did 
 appear incredible to some, but others believed it. 
 Yet, not thinking it advisable to exasperate a man 
 of so much power, they joined his retainers and 
 those who owed him money, in crying it was a 
 calumny, and in saying the senate ought to 
 exculpate him ; which accordingly they did. 
 3 ome were of opinion, and Crassus himself among 
 the rest, the informer was suborned by Cicero. 
 But what end could Cicero have in accusing a 
 man of his consequence, unless it were to alarm 
 the senate and people the more with a sense of 
 their, danger ? And what could Crassus propose to 
 himself in entering into a plot to burn a city in 
 which his property was so large ? 
 
MARCUS CRASSUS, 
 
 but Caesar, by the help of both, climbed to the 
 highest pinnacle of power. An earnest of this he 
 had, in his being unanimously elected consul. 
 And as he acquitted himself in his office with 
 great honour, they procured him the command 
 of armies, and decreed him the province of Gaul, 
 where he was established, as in an impregnable 
 castle. For they imagined, if they did but secure 
 to him the province that was fallen to his lot, they 
 might share the rest betwee;^ them at their 
 leisure. 
 
 It was the immoderate love of power which led 
 Pompey into this error. And Crassus to his old 
 disease of avarice now added a new one. The 
 i achievements, the victories, and triumphs of 
 ' Caesar, raised in Crassus, a passion for the same ; 
 and he could not be content to be beneath him in 
 this respect, though he was so much superior in 
 others. He therefore never let himself rest, till 
 he met an inglorious fate, and involved his country 
 in the most dreadful calamities. 
 
 On Caesar’s coming from Gaul to the city of 
 Lucca, numbers went to wait upon him, and 
 among the rest Crassus and Pompey. These, in 
 their private conferences, agreed with him to 
 carry matters with a higher hand, and to make 
 themselves absolute in Rome. For this purpose 
 Caesar was to remain at the head of his army, and 
 the other two chiefs to divide the rest of the 
 j provinces and armies between them. There was 
 ! no way, however, to carry their scheme into 
 execution, without suing for another consulship : 
 r in which Caesar was to assist by writing to his 
 : friends, and by sending a number of his soldiers 
 ! to vote in the election. 
 
 I When Crassus and Pompey returned to Rome, 
 
 I their designs were very much suspected ; and the 
 general discourse was, that the late interview 
 boded no good to the commonwealth. Hereupon, 
 Marcellinus and Domitius* asked Pompey in full 
 senate, whether he intended to solicit the consul- 
 ship. To which he answered, “ Perhaps I may 
 — perhaps not. ” And upon their interrogating 
 him a second time, he said, “ If I solicit it, I shall 
 solicit it for men of honour, and not for men of a 
 meaner principle.’* As this answer a peared to 
 have too much of haughtiness and contempt, 
 Crassus expressed himself with more moderation, 
 
 “ If it be for the public good, I shall solicit it — if 
 not, I shall forbear.” 
 
 By this some other candidates, and among the 
 rest Domitius, were emboldened to appear ; but 
 as soon as Crassus and Pompey declared them- 
 selv s, the rest dropped their pretensions. Only 
 Domitius was exhorted and encom-aged by his 
 friend and kinsman Cato not to abandon his 
 prospects, but to stand boldly up for the liberties 
 of his country. As for Pompey and Crassus. he 
 said, they wanted not the consulship, but absolute 
 power ; nor was it so much their aim to be chief 
 magistrates at home, as to seize the provinces, 
 and to divide the armies between them.” 
 
 Cato having thus expressed his real sentiments, 
 drew Domitius almost forcibly into the forum, 
 and numbers joined them there. For they were 
 greatly surprised at this step of Crassus and 
 Pompey. “ Why do they demand, ” said they, “ a 
 second consulship? Why together? Why not 
 with others ? Have we not many persons of merit 
 
 * Domitius iLnobarbus. 
 
 ^ 
 
 sufficient to entitle them to be colleagues with 
 either Crassus or Pompey ? ” 
 
 Pompey*s party, alarmed at these speeches, 
 threw off the mask, and adopted the most violent 
 measures. Among other outrages, they waylaid 
 Domitius as he was going to the place of election 
 before day, accompanied by his friends ; killed 
 the torch-bearer, and wounded many of his train, 
 Cato among the rest. Then they shut them all up 
 together till Crassus and Pompiey were elected. 
 
 A little after this, they confined Domitius to 
 his house, by planting armed men about it, drove 
 Cato out of the forum, and killed several who 
 made resistance. Having thus cleared the way, 
 they continued Caesar in bus government for five 
 years more, and got Syria and both the Spains for 
 their own provinces. Upon casting lots, Syria 
 fell to Crassus, and the Spains to Pompey. 
 
 The allotment was not disagreeable to the 
 multitude. They chose to have Pompey not far 
 from Rome : and Pompey, who passionately 
 loved his wife, was very glad of the opportunity 
 to spend most of his time there. As for Crassus, 
 as soon as it appeared that Syria was his lot, he 
 discovered the greatest joy, and considered it as 
 the principal happiness of his life ; insomuch that 
 even before strangers and the populace he could 
 hardly restrain his transports. To his intimate 
 friends he opened himself more freely, expressing 
 the most sanguine hopes and indulging in vain 
 elevations of heart, unsuitable to his age and 
 disposition : for in general he was far from being 
 pompous or inclined to vanity. But now, ex- 
 travagantly elated and corrupted by his flattering 
 prospects, he considered not Syria and the Par- 
 thians as the termination of his good fortune ; but 
 intended to make the expedition of Lucullus 
 against Tigranes, and of Pompey against Mith- 
 ridates, appear only the sports of children. His 
 design was to penetrate to the Bactrians, the 
 Indians, the eastern ocean, and in his hopes he 
 had already swallowed up the east. 
 
 In the law relating to the government of 
 Crassus, no mention was made of a war in its 
 neighbourhood : but all the world knew Crassus 
 had an eye to it. And Caesar, in the letter he 
 wrote to Wm from Gaul, commended his design, 
 and encouraged him to attack the Parthians. 
 But when he was going to set out, Ateius, one of 
 the tribunes, threatened to stop him, and numbers 
 joined the tribime’s party. They could not with- 
 out indignation think of his going to begin hos- j 
 tilities against a people who had done them no 
 injury, and were in ‘act their allies. Crassus, 
 alarmed at this, desired Pompey to conduct him I 
 out of Rome. He knew the dignity of Pompey, 
 and the veneration the populace had for him : and ! 
 on this occasion, though many were prepared to 
 withstand Crassus, and to raise a clamour against 
 him, yet when they saw Pompey marching before 
 him with an open and gay countenance, they 
 dropped their resentment, and made way in 
 silence. 
 
 4-teius, however, advanced to meet him. In 
 the first place, by the authority of his office he 
 commanded him to stop, and protested against 
 his enterprise. ITien he ordered one of his officers 
 to seize him. But the other tribunes interposing, 
 the officer let Crassus go. Ateius now ran before 
 to the gate, and placed there a censer with fire in 
 it. At the approach of Crassus, he sprinkled 
 incense upon it, offered libations, and uttered the 
 
PLUTARCirs LIPES. 
 
 3S2 
 
 most horrid imprecations, invoking at the same 
 time certain dreadful and strange gods. T-he 
 Koinans say, these mysterious and ancient impre- 
 cations have such power,* that the object of 
 them never escapes their effect ; nay, they 
 that the person who uses them is sure to be 
 unhappy ; so that they are seldom used, and 
 never but upon a great occasion. Ateius was 
 much blamed for his rash zeal. It was for his 
 country’s sake that he was an adversary to Crassus, 
 and yet it was his country he had laid under that 
 dreadful curse. 
 
 Crassus, pursuing his journey, came to 13run- 
 dusium ; and though the winter storms made the 
 voyage dangerous, he put to sea, and lost a 
 number of vessels in his passage. As soon as he 
 had collected the rest of his troops, he continued 
 his route by land through Galatia. There he 
 paid his respects to Deiotarus, who, though an 
 old man, was building a new city. ^ Crassus 
 laughed, and said, “You begin to build at the 
 twelfth hour of the day ! ” The king laughed in 
 his turn, and answered, “ You do not set out very 
 early in the morning against the Parthians ! 
 Crassus, indeed, was then above sixty years of 
 age,t and he looked much older than he 
 was. 
 
 Upon his arrival in Syria, his affairs prospered 
 at first according to his expectation. He threw 
 a bridge over the Euphrates with ease, and his 
 army passed it without opposition. Many cities 
 in Mesopotamia voluntarily received him ; and 
 one only stood upon its defence. T.he prince 
 who governed it was named Apollonius. The 
 Romans having lost about a hundred men be- 
 fore it, Crassus marched against it with all his 
 forces, took it by assault, plundered it of every- 
 thing valuable, and sold the inhabitants for 
 slaves. The Greeks called that city Zenodotia.J 
 Crassus, upon taking it, suffered his army to 
 salute him IinperatoT i a thing which reflected 
 no small disgrace upon him : it showed the 
 meanness of his spirit, and his despair of effect- 
 ing anything considerable, when he valued him- 
 self upon such a trifling acquisition. 
 
 After he had garrisoned the towns that had 
 submitted with 7000 foot and 1000^ horse, he re- 
 turned into Syria, to winter. There he was 
 joined by his son, whom Csesar had sent to him 
 from Gaul, adorned with military honours, and 
 at the head of 1000 select horse. 
 
 Among the many errors which Crassus com- 
 mitted in this war, the first, and none of the 
 least, was his returning so soon into Syria. He 
 ought to have gone forward, and strengthened 
 himself with the accession of Babylon 
 Seleucia, cities always at enmity with the Par- 
 thians ; instead of which, he gave the enemy 
 abundant time to prepare themselves. Besides, 
 his occupations in Syria were greatly censured, 
 having more of the trader in them than of the 
 general. Instead of examining into the arms of 
 his soldiers, keeping them in exercise, and im- 
 proving their strength and activity by proper 
 rewards, he was inquiring into the revenues of 
 the cities, and weighing the treasures m the 
 
 * Dira detestatio 
 Nulla expiatur victimi. ,HoR._ 
 t Crassus set out upon this expedition in the 
 year of Rome 699. 
 
 t Zenodotia, in the province of Osrhoene. 
 
 temple of the goddess of Hierapolis.*^ And 
 though he fixed the quotas of troops which the 
 states and principalities were to furnish, he let 
 them off again for a sum of money ; which 
 exposed him to the contempt of those whom he 
 excused. 
 
 The first sign of his future fortune came from 
 this very goddess, whom some call Venus, some 
 Juno, others Nature,^ or that great principle 
 which produces all things out of moisture, and 
 instructs mankind in the knowledge of everything 
 that is good. As they were going out of the 
 temple, young Crassus stumbled and fell at the 
 gate, and his father fell upon him. 
 
 He was now drawing his troops out of winter- 
 quarters, when ambassadors came from Arsaces, 
 and addressed him in this short speech ; “ If this 
 army was sent against the Parthians by the 
 Roman people, that people has nothing to expect 
 but perpetual war and enmity irreconcilable. 
 But if Crassus, against the inclinations of his 
 country (which they were informed was the case), 
 to gratify his own avarice, has undertaken this 
 war, and invaded one of the Parthian provinces, 
 Arsaces will act with more moderation. He will 
 take compassion on Crassus’s age, and let the 
 Romans go, though in fact he considers them 
 rather as in prison than in garrison.” To this 
 Crassus made no return but a rhodomontade. 
 He said he would give them his answer at 
 Seleucia. Upon which, Vagises, the oldest of 
 the ambassadors, laughed ; and turning up the 
 palm of his hand, replied, “ Crassus, here will 
 hair grow before thou wilt see Seleucia. 
 
 The ambassadors then returned to their king 
 Orodes, t and told him he must prepare for war. 
 Meantime, some Romans escaped with difficulty 
 from the cities they garrisoned in Mesopotamia, 
 and brought a very alarming account of the 
 enemy. They said they had been eye-witnesses 
 to their immense numbers, and to their dreadful 
 manner of fighting, when they attacked the 
 towns. And, as it is usual for fear to magnify 
 its object, they added, “It is impossible either 
 to escape them when they pursue, or to take 
 them when they fly. They have a new and 
 strange sort of arrows, which are swifter than 
 kghtning, and reach their mark before you can 
 see they are discharged ; nor are they less fatal 
 in their effects than swift in their course. 1 he 
 offensive arms of their cavalry pierce thiough 
 everything, and the de ensive arms are^ so well 
 tempered, that nothing can pierce them. 
 
 The Roman soldiers were struck with this 
 account, and their courage began to droop. They 
 had imagined that the Parthians were not different 
 
 * About twenty miles from the Euphrates 
 there was a city known by the several names of 
 Bambyce, Edessa, and Hierapolis. By the 
 Syrians it was called Magog. The goddess 
 Atargatis was worshipped there with great 
 devotion. Lucian mentions her temple as the 
 richest in the world. . . „ , j 
 
 t Here the king of Parthia is called Orodes, 
 who before was called Aisaces. Arsaces 
 probably a name common to the kings of that 
 country, and Orodes the proper name of this 
 prince. He was the son of Phraates the second, 
 and made his way to the crown through the 
 blood of his elder brother Mithndates. For this 
 he deservedly died the same kind of death. 
 
MARCUS CRASSUS, 
 
 from the Armenians and Cappadocians, whom 
 LmcuIIus had beaten and driven before him till 
 he was weary ; and consequently tliat the hardest 
 part of the expedition would i>e the length of the 
 way, and the trouble of pursuing men who would 
 never stand an engagement. iJut now they 
 found they had war and danger to look in the 
 face, which they had not thought of : insomuch 
 that several of the principal officers were oi 
 opinion that Crass ss ought to stop, and call a 
 council to con.sider whether new measures ought 
 not to be taken. Of this number was Cassius 
 the quaestor. Besides, the soothsayers whispered, 
 that the sacrifices were not accepted by the 
 gods, and the signs appeared always inauspicious 
 to the general. However, he paid no attention to 
 them, nor to any but those who were for hastening 
 his march. 
 
 He was the more confirmed in his intentions 
 by the arrival of Artavasdes,* king of Armenia, 
 that prince came with 6000 horse, which he said 
 were only his body guard. He promised Cras- 
 sus 10,000 more, armed at all poinu, and 
 30,000 foot, all to be maintained at his o^vn ex- 
 I>cnse. At the same time, he advised him to 
 enter Parthia by way of Armenia “By that 
 ineans, said he, “ you will not only have plenty 
 of provisions, which I shall take care to supply 
 you with ; but your march will be safe, as it will 
 lie along a chain of mountains, and a country 
 almost impracticable for cavalry, in which the 
 Parthian strength consLsts.” Crassus received 
 his tender of service and his noble offer of suc- 
 cours but coldly ; and said he should march 
 through Mesopotamia, where he had left a 
 number of brave Romans. Upon this the Ar- 
 menian bade him adieu, and returned to his o^vn 
 country. 
 
 As Crassus was passing the Euphrates at 
 ^ugma, he met with dreadful bursts of thunder, 
 aud lightnings flamed in the fhee of his troops. 
 At the same time, the black clouds emitted a 
 humane mingled with fire, which broke down 
 and destroyed great part of his bridge. The 
 place which he had marked out for a camp was 
 also twice struck with lightning. One of the 
 general s war horses, richly caparisoned, run- 
 ning away with his rider, leaped into the river, 
 and was seen no more. And it is said, when the 
 loremost ^gie was moved, in order for a march. 
 
 It turned back of its own accord. Besides these 
 ill tokens, It happened that when the soldiers had 
 their provisions distributed, after they had crossed 
 the nver, they were first served with lentils and 
 salt, which are reckoned ominous, and commonlv 
 placed upwn the monuments of the dead. In a 
 s]^ch of Crassus to the army, an expression 
 ^aped him which struck them all with horror. 
 He said he had broke down the bridge, that not 
 one of them might return. And when he ought 
 upon perceiving the impropriety of tlie expW 
 won, to have recalled or explained it to the inti- 
 midated tr<wps, his obstinacy would not permit 
 him. Fa which we may add, that in the sacrifice 
 ^er^ for the lustration of the army, the arus- 
 f entraiU in his hands, he let 
 
 toem fall Ail that attended the ceremony were 
 
 3S3 
 
 as Pln!^rr^ S® u Artabases; but, 
 
 Artavasdes everywhere 
 here thought it proper to put it so 
 
 struck with astonisli men t ; but he only said with 
 a smile. See what it is Uj be old 1 My sword, 
 
 I however, sliall not slip out of my hands in this 
 rr.anner- 
 
 Immediately after this, he began his march 
 along the side of the Euphra es. with seven 
 legions, near /ooo horse, and almost as many of 
 the light-armed. He had not gone far be;ore 
 ^mc of his scouts returned, and told him, they 
 h^ not found .so much as one man in theirexcur- 
 sions ; but that tlicre were many vestiges of 
 ^valry, who appeared to have fl^ a.s if they 
 had cen pursued. 
 
 Cra.ssus now began to be more sanguine in his 
 hopes, and the soldiers to hold the enemy in con- 
 tempt, upon a supiKisition that they durst not 
 stand an encounter. Nevertheless, Cassirs ad- 
 dressed himself to the general again, and advba^i 
 hirn to secure his troops in some fortified 
 town, till he should liave some account of thr* 
 enemy that might be depended upon. If he did 
 not choose that, he desire^i him to keep along 1 
 the river till he reached Sclcucia : for by t is 
 means he would be constantly supplied witn pro- 
 visions from the vessels that would follow his 
 camp ; and the river preventing his being sur- • 
 j rounded, he would always have it in his power to I 
 i light upon equal terms. I 
 
 I weighing the^e counsels 
 
 with much deliberation, there arrived an Arabian I 
 ^ chief named Ariamnes.* This artful and per- | 
 j iwious man was the principal instrument of all 
 [ the calamities which fortune was prejianng for 1 
 j tlic rum of Crassus. Some of his officers who 
 : had served under Pompey, knew how mu<h ' 
 j Ariamnes was indebted to that generals favour, j 
 I and tfiat in consei4uence he passed for a well- 
 j wisher to the Romans. But now, gained by the 
 iarthian officers, he concerted with them a 
 scheme to draw Crassus from the river and the 
 j higher grounds, into an immense plain where lie 
 might easily be surrounded. For the enemy j 
 i thought oi nothing les.s tiian fighting a pitched 
 battle with the Romams. , 
 
 1 his bar arian, then, addressing himself to I 
 Crassus, at fipt launched out into the praises r,f ! 
 
 I Pompey as his benefactor, for he was a . oluble 
 j and artful speaker. Then he expressed his ad- ! 
 
 I miration of so fine an army, l_it v/khal took ] 
 wcasion to blame Crassus for his delays, and the - 
 I time he spent in preparing ; as if weapons, and not 
 rather active hands and feet, v/ere required i 
 against a people, who had long been detcrmin#^d ' 
 
 , to retire with their most valuable effects, and j 
 I with their families and friends, to the Sesubiar i 
 ,"y>;can>ans. “Or suppose you luive to 
 fight, said be, “ you ought to hasten to the en- 
 counter, before the king recover his spirits, and' 
 j collect all his forces. At present h; has only v-nt ^ 
 out Surena and Sillaces to amuse you and^t 
 prevent your pursuit of himself. For his part" I 
 he will take care not to appear in the field." ' I 
 
 ■ ri circum.stance. j 
 
 i For Orodes had divided his army into tw'o 
 j part= : with one of which he was ravaging 
 Armenia, to wreak his vengeance upon Arta- 
 vasdes : .Surena was left with the other, to make 
 ’ head against the Romans. N -.t that the king (as 
 some will have it) had any com empt for the 
 
 , * Appian and Dion Cassius call him Aebarus 
 
 jorAgbarus. 
 
PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 'A 
 
 Romans : for Crassus, one of the most powerhil 
 men Rome had produced, was not an antagonist 
 whom he should despise, and think it a fairer 
 field of honour to go a d fight with Artavasdes, 
 and lay waste Armenia. On the contrary, it is 
 highly probable, it was his apprehension of 
 danger which made him keep at a distance and 
 watch the rising event ; in order to which he sent 
 Surena before him, to make trial of the enemy’s 
 strength and to amuse them with his stratagems, 
 t or Surena v as no ordinary person ; but in 
 fortune, family, and honour, the first after the 
 king ; and in point of courage and capacity, as 
 well as in size and beauty, superior to the Parthians 
 of his time. If he went only upon an excursion 
 into the country, he had looo camels to carry his 
 baggage, and 200 carriages for his concubines. 
 He was attended by 1000 heavy-armed horse, and 
 many more of the light-armed rode before him 
 Indeed, his vassals and slaves made up a body of 
 cavalry little less than 10,000. He had the 
 hereditary privilege in his family to put the 
 diadem upon the king’s head, when he was 
 crowned. When Orodes was driven from the 
 throne, he restored him ; and it was he who con- 
 quered for him the great city of Seleucia, being 
 the first to scale the wall, and beating off the 
 enemy with his own hand. Though he was then 
 not thirty years old, his discernment was strong, 
 and his counsel esteemed the best. These were 
 the talents by which he overthrew Crassus, who 
 laid himself open to his arts, first by a too 
 I sanguine confidence, and afterwards by his fears 
 and depression under misfortunes. 
 
 When Cras us had listened to the lure of 
 Ariamnes, and left the river to march into the 
 plain, the traitor led him a way that was smooth 
 and easy at first ; but after a while it became 
 extremely difficult, by reason of the deep sands 
 in which he had to wade, and the sight of a vast 
 desert without wood or water, which afforded no 
 prospect of repose or hope of refreshment. So 
 that his troops were ready to give out, not only 
 through thirst and the difficulty of the march, 
 but through the comfortless and melancholy view 
 before them of a country where there was 
 neither tree nor stream to be seen, no hill to 
 shelter them, no green herb growing, but the 
 billows of an immense sea of sand surrounding 
 the whole army. 
 
 These things gave them sufficient reason to 
 suspect they were betrayed ; but when the 
 envoys of Artavasdes arrived, there was no room 
 to doubt it. That prince informed Crassus, 
 that Orodes had invaded his kingdom with a 
 great army, so that now he could send the 
 Romans no succours. Therefore he advised them 
 to march towards Armenia, where, with their 
 united forces, they might give Orodes battle. 
 If Crassus did not relish this advice, he conjured 
 him at least never to encamp upon any ground 
 favourable to the cavalry, but to keep close to the 
 mountains. Crassus in his resentment and in- 
 fatuation would send no answer in writing ; he 
 only said, he was not at leisure now to think of 
 the Armenians, but by and by he would come 
 and chastise their king for his perfidiousness. 
 Cassius was extremely chagrined, but would not 
 make any more remonstrances to the general, who 
 was already offended at the liberty he had taken. 
 He applied, however, to the barbarian in private, 
 in such terms as these, “ O thou vilest of im 
 
 postors, what malevolent demon has brought 1 
 thee amongst us? By what potions, by what I 
 enchantments, hast thou prevailed upon Crassus 
 to pour his army into this vast, this amazing 
 desert ; a march more fit for a Numidian robber 
 than for a Roman general?” The barba ian, 
 who had art enough to adapt himself to all 
 occasions, humbled himself to Cassius, and en- 
 couraged him to hold out and have patience only 
 a little longer. As for the soldiers, he rode about 
 the ranks under a pretence of fortifying them 
 against their fatigues, and made use of several 
 taunting expressions to them, “ What,” said he, 
 
 “ do you imagine that you are marching through 
 Campania? Do you expect the fountains, the 
 streams, the shades, the baths, and houses of 
 refreshment you pieet with there ? And will you 
 never remember that you are traversing the 
 barren confines of the Arabians and Assyrians ? ” 
 Thus the traitor admonished, or rather insulted 
 the Romans, and got off at last before his im- 
 posture was discovered. Nor was this without 
 the general’s knowledge ; he even persuaded him 
 then, that he was going upon some scheme to put 
 the enemy in disorder. 
 
 It is said, that Crassus on that day did not 
 appear in a purple robe, such as the Roman 
 generals used to wear, but in a black one ; and 
 when he perceived his mistake, he went and 
 changed it. Some of the standards, too, were 
 so rooted in the ground, that they could not be 
 moved without the greatest efforts. Crassus 
 only laughed at the omen, and hastened his 
 march the more, making the foot keep up with 
 the cavalry. Meantime the remains of a recon- 
 noitring party returned, with an account that 
 their comrades were killed by the Parthians, and 
 that they had escaped with great difficulty. At 
 the same time they assured him, that the enemy 
 was advancing with very numerous forces, and 
 in the highest spirits. 
 
 This intelligence spi'ead great dismay among 
 the troops, and Crassus was the most terrified of 
 all. In his confusion he had scarce unders.and- 
 ing enough about him to draw up his army 
 properly. At first, agreeably to the opinion of 
 Cassius, he extended the front of his infantry so 
 as to occupy a great space of ground, to prevent 
 their being surrounded, and distributed the 
 cavalry in the wings. But soon altering his 
 mind, he drew up the legions in a close square, 
 and made a front every way, each front con- 
 sisting of twelve cohorts. Every cohort had its 
 troop of horse allotted it, that no part might 
 remain unsupported by the cavalry, but that the 
 whole might advance with equal security to the 
 charge. One of the wings was given to Cassius, 
 the other to young Crassus, and the general 
 placed himself in the centre. 
 
 In this order they moved fonvard, till they 
 came to a river called Balissus, which in itself 
 was not considerab le, but the sight of it gave 
 pleasure to the soldiers, as well on account of 
 their heat and thirst, as the fatigues of a march 
 through a dry and sandy desert. Most of the 
 officers were of opinion that they ought to pass 
 the night there, and after having got the best 
 intelligence they could of the number of the 
 enemy and their order, advance against them at 
 break of day. But Crassus, carried away by the 
 eagerness of his son, and of the cavalry about 
 him, who called upon him to lead them to the 
 
MARCUS CRASSUS, 
 
 charge, commanded those who wanted refresh- 
 ment to take it as they stood in their ranks. 
 Before they had all done, he began his march, 
 not leisurely and with proper pauses, as is neces- 
 sary in going to battle, but with a quick and 
 continued pace till they came in sight of the 
 enemy, who appeared neither so numerous nor 
 so formidable as they had expected. For Surena 
 had concealed his main force behind the ad- 
 vanced guard, and, to prevent their being dis- 
 covered by the glittering of their armour, he had 
 ordered them to cover it with their coats or with 
 skins. 
 
 When both armies were near enough to engage, 
 and the generals had given the signal, the. field 
 resounded with a horrid din and dreadful bellow- 
 ing. For the Parthians do no^J excite their men 
 to action with cornets and trumpets, but with 
 certain hollow instruments covered with leather, 
 and surrounded with brass bells, which they 
 beat continually. The sound is deep and dis- 
 mal, something between the howling of wild 
 beasts and the crashing of thunder ; and it was 
 from sage reflection they had adopted it, having 
 observed, that of all the senses, that of hearing 
 soonest disturbs the mind, agitates the passions, 
 and unhinges the understanding. 
 
 While the Romans were trembling at the 
 horrid noise, the Parthians suddenly uncovered 
 their arms, and appeared like battalions of fire, 
 with the gleam of their breastplates and their 
 helmets of Margian steel polished to the greatest 
 perfection. Their cavalry too, completely armed 
 in brass and steel, shed a lustre no less striking. 
 At the head of them appeared Surena, tall and 
 well made ; but his feminine beauty did not 
 promise such courage as he was possessed of. 
 For he was dressed in the fashion of the Medes, 
 with his face painted, and his hair curled and 
 equally parted ; while the rest of the Parthians 
 wore their hair in great disorder, like the Scy- 
 thians, to make themselves look more terrible. 
 
 At first, the barbarians intended to have 
 charged with their pikes, and opened a way 
 through their foremost ranks ; but when they 
 saw the depth of the Roman battalions, the 
 closeness of their order, and the firmness of their 
 standing, they drew back, and, under the ap- 
 pearance of breaking their ranks and dispersing, 
 wheeled about and surrounded the Romans. At 
 that instant Crassus ordered his archers and light 
 infantr5»^ fo begin the charge. But they had not 
 gone far before they were saluted with a shower 
 of arrows, which came with such force and did 
 so much execution, as drove them back upon the 
 battalions. This was the beginning of disorder 
 and consternation among the heavy-armed, when 
 they beheld the force and strength of the arrows, 
 against which no armour was proof, and whose 
 keenness nothing could resist. The Parthians 
 now separated, and began to exercise their artil- 
 lery upon the Romans on all sides at a consider- 
 able distance ; not needing to take an exact aim, 
 by reason of the clo.seness and depth of the 
 square in which their adversaries were drawn 
 up. Their bows were large and strong, yet 
 capable of bending till the arrows were drawn 
 to the head ; the force they went with was con- 
 sequently very great, and the wounds they gave 
 mortal. 
 
 Romans were now in a dreadful situation. 
 If they stood still, they were pierced through ; 
 
 if they advanced, they could make Ho reprisals, 
 and yet were sure to meet their fate. For the 
 Parthians shoot as they fly ; and this they do 
 with dexterity inferior only to the Scythians. It 
 is indeed an excellent expedient, because they 
 save themselves by retiring, and, by fighting all 
 the while, escape the disgrace of flight. 
 
 Whfle the Romans had any hopes that the 
 Parthians would spend all their arrows and quit 
 the combat, or else advance hand to hand, they 
 bore their distresses with patience. But as soon 
 as it was perceived, that behind the enemy there 
 was a number of camels loaded with arrows, from 
 whence the first ranks, after they emptied their 
 quivers, were supplied, Crassus, seeing no end 
 to his sufferings, was greatly distressed. The 
 step he took was to send orders to his son to get 
 up with the enemy, and charge them, if possible, 
 before he was quite surrounded : for it was prin- 
 cipally against him that one wing of the Parthian 
 cavalry directed their efforts, in hopes of taking 
 him in the rear. Upon this, the young man took 
 1300 horse, of which those he had from Caesar 
 made looo, 500 archers, and eight cohorts of 
 infantry which were next at hand, and wheeled 
 about, to come to the charge. However, the 
 Parthians, whether it was that they were afraid 
 to meet a detachment that came against them in 
 such good order, which some say was the case ; 
 or whether they wanted to draw young Crassus 
 as far as they possibly could from his father, 
 turned their backs and fled.* The young man 
 cried out, “They dare not stand us,” and followed 
 at full speed. So did Censorinus and Mega- 
 bacchus ; t the latter a man noted for his strength 
 and courage, and the former a person of sena- 
 torial dignity, and an excellent orator. Both 
 were intimate friends of young Crassus, and 
 nearly of his age. 
 
 The cavalry kept on, and such was the alacrity 
 and spirit of hope with which the in antry were 
 in.spired, that they were not left behind : for they 
 imagined they were only pursuing a conquered 
 enemy. But they had not gone far before they 
 found how much they were deceived. The pre- 
 tended fugitives faced about, and many others 
 joining them, advanced to the encounter. The 
 Romans, upon this, made a stand, supposing the 
 enemy would come to close quarters with them, 
 because their number was but small. The Par- 
 thians, however, only formed a line of their 
 heavy-armed cavalry opposite their adversaries, 
 and then ordered their irregulars to gallop round, 
 and beat up the sand and dust in such a manner, 
 that the Romans could scarce either see or speak 
 for the clouds of i:. Besides, the latter were 
 drawn up in so small a compass, and pressed so 
 close u, on each other, that they were a very 
 fair mark for the enemy. Their death too was 
 lingering. They rolled about in agonies of pain 
 
 * It was their common method, not to stand a 
 pitched battle with troops that were in any de- 
 gree their match. In retreating and advancing, 
 as occasion required, they knew the advantage 
 they had in the swiftness of their horses, and in 
 the excellence of their archers. 
 
 t It is not easy to say what Roman name 
 Megabacchus could be the corruption of. 
 Xylander tells us he found in an old translation 
 Cnei. Planctcs. ^ Probably that translator might 
 have the authority of some manuscript. 
 
386 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 with the arrows sticking in them, and before they 
 died endeavoured to pull out the barbed points 
 which were entangled within their veins and 
 sinews ; an effort that served only to enlarge 
 their wounds and add to their torture. 
 
 IMany died in this miserable manner, and those 
 who survived were not fit for action. When 
 Publius * desired them to attack the heavy-armed 
 cavalry, they showed him their hands nailed to 
 their shields, and their feet fastened to the 
 ground, so that they could neither fight nor fly. 
 He therefore encouraged his cavalry, and ad- 
 vanced with great vigour to the charge. But the 
 dispute was by no means upon an equality, 
 either in respect of attack or defence. For his 
 men had only weak and short javelins to attempt 
 the Parthian cuirasses, which were made either 
 of raw hides or steel ; while the enemy’s strong 
 pikes could easily make an impression upon the 
 naked or light-armed Gauls. These were the 
 troops in which he placed his chief confidence, 
 and indeed he worked wonders with them. They 
 laid hold on the pikes of the barbarians, and 
 grappling with them pulled them from their 
 horses, and threw them on the ground, where 
 they could scarce stir, by reason of the weight 
 of their own armour. Many of them even quitted 
 their own horses, and getting under those of the 
 Parthians, wounded them in the belly ; upon 
 which the horses, mad with pain, plunged and 
 threw their riders, and treading them underfoot 
 along with the enemy, at last fell down dead 
 upon both. What went hardest against the 
 Gauls was heat and thirst, for they had not been 
 accustomed to either. And they lost most of 
 their horses by advancing furiously against the 
 enemy’s pikes. 
 
 They had now no resource but to retire to their 
 infantry, and to carry off young Crassus, who 
 was much wounded. But happening to see a 
 hill of sand by the way, they retired to it ; and 
 having placed their horses in the middle, they 
 locked their shields together all ai'ound, imagin- 
 ing that would prove the best defence against 
 the barbarians. It happened, however, quite 
 otherwise. While they were upon plain ground, 
 the foremost rank afforded some shelter to those 
 behind ; but upon an eminence, the unevenness 
 of the ground showed one above another, and 
 those behind higher than those before, so that 
 there was no chance for any of them to escape : 
 they fell promiscuously, lamenting their in- 
 glorious fate, and the impossibility of exerting 
 themselves to the last. 
 
 Young Crassus had with him two Greeks, named 
 Hieronymus and Nicomachus, who had settled 
 in that country in the town of Carrse. These 
 advised him to retire with them, and to make his 
 es ape to Ischnae, a city which had adopted the 
 Roman interests, and was at no great distance. 
 But he answered, there was no death, however 
 dreadful, the fear of which could make him leave 
 so many brave men dying for his sake. At the 
 same time he desired them to save themselves, 
 and then embraced and dismissed them. As his 
 own hand was transfixed with an arrow, and he 
 could not use it, he offered his side to his armour- 
 bearer, and ordered him to strike the blow. Cen- 
 sorinus is said to have died in the same manner. 
 As for Megabacchus, he despatched himself with 
 
 * Young Crassus. 
 
 his own hand, and the other principal officers 
 followed his example. The rest fell by the Par- 
 thian pikes, after they had defended themselves 
 gallantly to the last. The enemy did not make 
 above 500 prisoners. 
 
 When they had cut off the head of young 
 Crassus, they marched with it to his father, 
 whose affairs were in this posture. After he had 
 ordered his son to charge the Parthians, news 
 was brought him that they fled with great pre- 
 cipitation, and that the Romans pursued them 
 with equal vivacity. He perceived also, that 
 on his side the enemy’s operations were com- 
 paratively feeble : for the greatest part of them 
 were then gone after his son. Hereupon he re- 
 covered his spirits in some degree, and drew his 
 forces back to some higher ground, expecting 
 every moment his%on’s return from the pursuit. 
 
 Publius had sent several messengers to inform 
 him of his danger ; but the first had fallen in 
 with the barbarians, and were cut in pieces ; and 
 the last having escaped with great difficulty, told 
 him his son was lost, if he had not large and 
 immediate succours. Crassus was so distracted 
 by different passions that he could not form any 
 rational scheme. On the one hand he was afraid 
 of sacrificing the whole army, and on the other, 
 anxious for the preservation of his son ; but at 
 last he resolved to march to his assistance. 
 
 Meantime the_ enemy advanced with loud shouts 
 and songs of Victory, which made them appear 
 more terrible ; and all the drums bellowing again 
 in the ears of the Romans, gave them notice of 
 another engagement. The Parthians coming for- 
 ward with the head of Publius on a spear, de- 
 manded, in the most contemptuous manner, 
 whether they knew the family and parents of 
 the young man. “ For,” said they, “ it is not 
 possible that so brave and gallant a youth should 
 be the son of Crassus, the greates,t dastard and 
 the meanest wretch in the world.” 
 
 This spectacle broke the spirits of the Romans 
 more than all the calamities they had met with. 
 Instead of exciting them to revenge, as miglit 
 have been expected, it produced a horror and 
 tremor which ran through the whole army. 
 Nevertheless, Cmssus, on this melancholy occa- 
 sion, behaved with greater magnanimity than he 
 had ever shown before. He marched up and 
 down the ranks, and cried, “ Romans, this loss is 
 mine. The fortunes and glory of Rome stand 
 safe and undiminished in you. If you have any 
 pity for rne, who am bereaved of the best of sons, 
 show it in your resentment against the enemy. 
 Put an end to their triumph ; avenge their cruelty. 
 Be not astonished at this loss ; they must always 
 have something to suffer who aspire to great 
 things. _ Lucullus did not pull down Tigranes, 
 nor Scipio Antiochus, without some expense of 
 blood. Our ancestors lost 1000 ships before they 
 reduced Sicily, and many great officers and 
 generals in Italy ; but no previous loss prevented 
 their subduing the conquerors. For it was not 
 by her good fortune, but by the perseverance and 
 fortitude with which she combated adversity, 
 that Rome has risen to her present height of 
 power.” 
 
 _ Crassus, though he thus endeavoured to animate 
 his troops, did not find many listen to him with 
 pleasure. He was sensible their depression still 
 continued, when he ordered them to shout for the 
 battle ; for their shout was feeble, languid, and 
 
MARCUS CRASSUS. 
 
 387 
 
 unequal, while that of the barbarians was bold 
 and strong. When the attack began, the light- 
 armed cavalry, taking the Romans in flank, 
 galled them with their arrows ; while the heavy- 
 armed, charging them in front with their pikes, 
 drove them into a narrow space. Some, indeed, 
 to avoid a more painful death from the arrows, 
 advanced with the resolution of despair, but did 
 not much execution. All the advantage they had 
 was, that they were speedily despatched by the 
 large wounds they received from the broad heads 
 of the enemy’s strong pikes, which they pushed 
 with such violence, that they often pierced through 
 two men at once. ^ 
 
 The fight continued in this manner all day; 
 and when the barbarians came to retire, they 
 said, they would give Crassus one night to bewail 
 his son ; if he did not in the mean time consider 
 better, and rather choose to go and surrender 
 himself to Arsaces, than be carried. Then they 
 sat down near the Roman army, and passed the 
 night in great satisfaction, hoping to finish the 
 affair the next day. 
 
 It was a melancholy and dreadful night to the 
 Romans. They took no care to bury the dead, 
 nor any notice of the wounded, many of whom 
 were expiring in great agonies. Every man had 
 his own fate to deplore. That fate appeared in- 
 evitable, whether they remained where they were, 
 or threvv themselves in the night into that bound- 
 less plain. They found a great objection, too, 
 against retiring, in the wounded ; who would 
 retard their flight, if they attempted to carry 
 them off, and alarm the enemy with their cries, 
 if they were left behind. 
 
 As for Crassus, though they believed him the 
 cause of all their miseries, they wanted him to 
 make his appearance and speak to them. But he 
 had covered his head, chosen darkness for his 
 companion, and stretched himself upon the 
 ground. A sad example to the vulgar of the 
 instability of fortune ; and to men of deeper 
 thought, of the effects of rashness and ill-placed 
 ambition. Not contented with being the first 
 and greatest among many millions of men, he 
 had considered himself in a mean light, because 
 there were two above him. 
 
 Octavius, one of his lieutenants, and Cassius, 
 endeavoured to raise him from the ground and 
 console him, but found that he gave himself 
 entirely up to despair. They then, by their own 
 authority, summoned the centurions and other 
 officers to a council of war, in which it was 
 resolved they should retire. Accordingly they 
 began to do so without sound of trumpet, and 
 silently enough at first. But when the sick and 
 wounded perceived they were going to be de- 
 seried their doleful cries and lamentations filled 
 the whole army with confusion and disorder. 
 Still greater terror seized them as they proceeded, 
 the foremost troops imagining that those behind 
 were enemies. They often missed their way, 
 often stopped to put th emselves in some order, or 
 to take some of the wounded off the beasts of 
 burden, and put others on. By these things they 
 lost a great deal of time ; insomuch that Ignatius 
 only, who made the best of his way with 300 
 horse, arrived at Carrae abou t midnight. He 
 
 * Ihere is nothing incredible in this, for it is 
 frequently done by the Tartars in the same mode 
 of fighting at this day. 
 
 saluted the guards in Latin, and when he per- 
 ceived they heard him, he bade them go and tell 
 Coponius, who commanded there, that Crassus 
 had fought a great battle with the Parthians. 
 1 hen, without explaining himself farther, or ac- 
 quainting them who he was, he made off as fast 
 as possible to Zeugma ; by which means he saved 
 himself and his troop ; but, at the same time, was 
 much blamed for deserting his general. 
 
 However, Crassus found his advantage in the 
 hint given to Coponius. That officer considering 
 that the hurry and confusion with which the 
 message was delivered, betokened no good, ordered 
 his men to arm ; and as soon as he was apprized 
 that Crassus was marching that way, he went 
 out to meet him, and conducted his army into 
 the town. 
 
 Though the Parthians in the night perceived 
 the flight of the Romans, they did not pursue 
 them ; but at break of day they fell upon those 
 that were left in the camp, and despatclied them, 
 to the number of 4000. The cavalry also picked 
 up many others who were straggling upon the 
 plain. One of the Roman officers, named Var- 
 guntinus, who had wandered in the night from 
 the main body with four cohorts, was found next 
 morning posted upon a hiil. The barbarians sur- 
 rounded their little corps, and killed them all, 
 except twenty men. These made their way 
 through the enemy sword in hand, who let them 
 pass, and they arrived safe at Carrae. 
 
 A rumour was now brought to Surena, that 
 Crassus with the best of his officers and troops 
 had escaped, and that those who had retired into 
 Carrae, were only a mixed multitude, not worth 
 his notice. He was afraid, therefore, that he 
 had lost the fruits of his victory ; but not being 
 absolutely certain, he wanted better information, 
 in order to determine whether he should besiege 
 Carrae, or pursue Crassus, wherever he might 
 have fled. For this purpose he despatched an 
 interpreter to the walls, who was to call Crassus 
 or Cassius in Latin, and tell them that Surena 
 demanded a conference. As soon as the business 
 of the interpreter was made known to Crassus 
 he accepted the proposal. And not long after, 
 certain Arabians arrived from the same quarter, 
 who knew Crassus and Cassius well, having been 
 in the Roman camp before the battle. These 
 seeing Cassius upon the walls, told him Surena 
 was ready to conclude a peace with them, on 
 condition they would be upon terms of friendship 
 with the king his master, and give up Mesopo- 
 tamia; for he thought this more advantageous 
 to both than coming to extremities. Cassius 
 embraced the overture, and demanded that the 
 time and place might be fixed for an interview 
 between Surena and Crassus ; which the Arabians 
 undertook for, and then rode off. 
 
 Surena, delighted to find that the Romans were 
 in a place where they might be besieged, led his 
 Parthians against them the next day. These bar- 
 barians treated them with great insolence, and 
 told them, if they wanted either peace or truce, 
 they might deliver up Crassus and Cassius bound. 
 The Romans, greatly afflicted at finding the.m- 
 selves so imposed upon, told Crassus he must 
 give up his distant and vain hopes of succour 
 from the Armenians, and resolve upon flight. 
 This resolution ought to have been concealed 
 from all the inhabitants of Carrae till the moment 
 it was put in execution. But Cras.sus revealed 
 
PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 3 ^ 
 
 it to Andromachus, one of the most perfidious 
 amongst them, whom he also chose for his guide. 
 From this traitor the Parthians learned every step 
 that was taken. 
 
 As it was not their custom, nor consequently 
 very practicable for them, to fight in the night, 
 and it was in the night that Crassus marched out, 
 Andromachus contrived that they might not be 
 far behind. With this view he artfully led the 
 Romans sometimes one wa}'', sometimes another, 
 and at last entangled them among deep marshes 
 and ditches, where it was difficult to get either 
 forward or backward. There were several who 
 conjectured from this shifting and turning, that 
 Andromachus had some ill design, and therefore 
 refused to follow him any farther. As for Cassius, 
 he returned to Carrse ; and when his guides, who 
 were Arabians, advised him to wait till the moon 
 had passed the Scorpion, he answered, “ I am 
 more afraid of the Sagittary,”* Then making 
 the best of his way, he got into Assyria with 500 
 horse. Others finding faithful guides, reached 
 the mountains of Sinnaca, and were perfectly 
 secure, before it was light. These, about 5000 in 
 number, were under the conduct of Octavius, 
 a man of great merit and honour. 
 
 Meantime day overlook Crassus, while, through 
 the treachery of Andromachus, he was wandering 
 on bogs and other impracticable ground. He had 
 with him only four cohorts of infantry, a very small 
 number of horse, and five lictors. At length he 
 regained the road with much labour and difficulty ; 
 but by this time the enemy was coming up. He 
 was not above twelve furlongs behind the corps 
 under Octavius. However, as he could not join 
 him, all he could do was to retire to a hill, not so 
 secure against cavalry as Sinnaca, but situated 
 under those mountains, and Connected with them 
 by a long ridge which ran through the plain. 
 Octavius, therefore, could see the danger Crassus 
 was in, and he immediately ran down with a 
 small band to his assistance. Upon this, the 
 rest, reproaching themselves for. staying behind, 
 descended from the heights, and falling upon the 
 Parthians, drove them from the hill. Then they 
 took Crassus in the midst of them, and fencing 
 him with their shields, boldly declared, that no 
 Parthian arrow should touch their general, while 
 any of them were left alive. 
 
 Surena now perceiving that the Parthians were 
 less vigorous in their attacks, and that if night 
 came on, and the Romans gained the mountains, 
 they would be entirely out of his reach, formed a 
 stratagem to get Crassus into his hands. He 
 dismissed some of his prisoners, after they had 
 heard the conversation of the Parthian soldiers, 
 who had been instructed to say, that the king 
 did not want perpetual war with the Romans, 
 but had rather renew the friendship and alliance 
 by his generous treatment of Crassus. After this 
 manoeuvre, the barbarian withdrew from the com- 
 bat, and Surena, with a few of his principal 
 officers, advancing gently to the hill, where he 
 unstrung his bow, and offering his hand, invited 
 Crassus to an agreement. He said, the king 
 had hitherto, contrary to his inclinations, given 
 proofs of his power, but now he would with 
 pleasure show his moderation and clemency, in 
 coming to terms with the Romans, and suffering 
 them to depart in peace. 
 
 * .\lluding to the Parthian archers. . 
 
 The troops received this proposal of Surena 
 with joy. But Crassus, whose errors had all 
 been owing to the Parthian treachery and deceit, 
 and thought this sudden change in their be- 
 haviour a very suspicious circumstance, did not 
 accept the overture, but stood deliberating. Here- 
 upon, the soldiers raised a great outcry, and bade 
 him go down. Then they proceeded to insults 
 and reproaches, telling him he was very willing to 
 expose them to the weapons of the Parthians, 
 but did not dare to meet them himself, when they 
 had laid down their arms, and wanted only a 
 friendly conference. 
 
 At first he had recourse' to entreaties, and 
 represented, that if they would but hold out the 
 remainder of the day, they might in the night 
 gain the mountains and rocks, which would be 
 inaccessible to cavalry. At the same time he 
 pointed to the way, and begged them not to 
 forego the hopes of safety when they had it so 
 near. But when he found they received his 
 address with anger, and clashing their arms in a 
 menacing manner, he was terrified, and began 
 to go ; only turning round a moment to .speak 
 these few words, “ You, Octavius, and you, Pe- 
 tronius, and all you Roman officers that are 
 present, are witnesses of the necessity I am under 
 to take this step, and conscious of the dishonour 
 and violence 1 suft'er. But, when you are safe, 
 pray tell the world that I was deceived by the 
 enemy, and not that I was abandoned by my 
 countrymen.” 
 
 However, Octavius and Petronius would' not 
 stay behind ; they descended the hill with him. 
 His lictors too would have followed, but he sent 
 them back. The first persons that met him, on 
 the part cf the barbarians, were two Greeks of 
 the half breed. They dismounted and made 
 Crassus a low reverence, and addressing him in 
 Greek, desired he would send some of his people 
 to see that Surena and his company came un- 
 armed, and without any weapons concealed about 
 them. Crassus answered, that if his life had been 
 of any account with him, he should not have 
 trusted himself in their hands. Nevertheless, 
 he sent two brothers of the name of Roscius 
 before him, to inquire upon what footing, and 
 how many of each side were to meet. Surena 
 detained those messengers, and advanced in 
 person with his principal officers on horseback. 
 “What is this,” said he, “I behold? A Ro- 
 man general on foot, when we are on horseback?” 
 Then he ordered a horse to be brought for him. 
 Rut Crassus answered there was no error on 
 either side, since each came to treat after the 
 manner of his country. “ Then,” said Surena, 
 “ from this moment there shall be peace and an 
 alliance between Orodes and the Romans; but 
 the treaty must be signed upon the banks of the 
 Euphrates : for you Romans remember your 
 agreements very ill.” Then he offered him his 
 hand ; and when Crassus would have sent for a 
 horse, he told him there was no need ; the king 
 would supply him with one. At the same time a 
 horse was brought with lurniture of gold, and 
 the equerries having mounted, Crassus began to 
 drive him forward. Octavius then laid hold on 
 the bridle; in which he was followed by Petro- 
 nius, a legionary tribune. Afterwards the rest 
 of the Romans who attended endeavoured to stop 
 the horse, and to draw off those who pressed 
 upon Crassus on each side. A scuffle and tumult 
 
MARCUS CRASSUS. 
 
 ensued, which ended in blows. _ Thereupon Oc- 
 tavius drew his sword, and killed one of the 
 Parthian grooms ; and another coming behind, 
 Octavius despatched him. Petrcxnius, who had 
 no arms to defend him, received a stroke on his 
 breastplate, but leaped from his horse unwounded. 
 Crassus was killed by a Parthian named Pomax- 
 sethres ; * though some say another despatched 
 him, and Pomaxaethres cut off his head and right 
 hand. Indeed, all these circumstances must be 
 rather from conjecture than knowledge. For 
 part of those who attended were slain in attempt- 
 ing to defend Cra.ssus, and the rest had run up 
 the hill on the first alarm. 
 
 After this, the Parthians went and addressed 
 themselves to the troops at the top. They told 
 them, Crassus had met with the reward his in- 
 justice deserved; but, as for them, Surena de- 
 sired they would come down boldly, for they had 
 nothing to fear. Upon this promise some went 
 down and surrendered themselves. Others at- 
 tempted to get off in the night ; but very few of 
 those escaped. The rest were hunted by the 
 Arabians, and either taken or put to the sword. 
 It is said, that in all there were 20,000 killed, and 
 10,000 made prisoners. 
 
 Surena sent th*e head and hand to Orodes in 
 Armenia ; notwithstanding which he ordered his 
 messengers to give it out at Seleucia, that he 
 was bringing Crassus alive. Pursuant to this 
 report, he prepared a kind of mock procession, 
 which, by way of ridicule, he called triumph. 
 Caius Pacianus, who,, of all the prisoners most 
 resembled Crassus, was dressed in a rich robe in 
 the Parthian fashion, and instructed to answer 
 to the name of Crassus and title of general. 
 Thus accoutred, he marched on horseback at the 
 head of the Romans. Before him marched the 
 trumpets and lictors, mounted upon camels. 
 Upon the rods were suspended empty purses, 
 and, on the axes, heads of the Romans newly cut 
 off. ^ Behind came the Seleucian courtesans with 
 music, singing scurrilous and farcical songs upon 
 the effeminacy and cowardice of Crassus. 
 
 These things were to amuse the populace. 
 But after the farce was over, Surena assembled 
 the senate of Seleucia, and produced the obscene 
 books of Aristides, called Milesiacs. Nor was 
 this a groundless invention to blacken the Ro- 
 mans. For the books being really found in the 
 baggage of Rustius, f gave Surena an excellent 
 opportunity to say many sharp and satirical 
 things of the Romans, who, even in the time of 
 war, could not refrain from such libidinous actions 
 and abominable books. 
 
 This scene put the Seleucians in mind of the 
 wise remark of iEsop. They saw Surena had 
 put the Milesian obscenities in the forepart of 
 the wallet, and behind they beheld a Parthian 
 Sybaris, ^ with a long train of carriages full of 
 harlots; insomuch that his army resembled the 
 serpents called scytalce. Fierce and formidable 
 m its head, it presented nothing but pikes, artil- 
 lery, and war horses ; while the tail ridiculously 
 enough exhibited prostitutes, musical instru- 
 
 *_Appian calls him Maxsethres, and in some 
 copies of Plutarch he is called Axathres. 
 
 t One of the Bodleian manuscripts has it Ros- 
 cius. 
 
 t Sybaris was a town in Lucania, famous for 
 Its luxury and effeminacy. 
 
 389 
 
 ments, and nights spent in singing and riot with 
 those women. Rustius undoubtedly was to 
 blame ; but it was an impudent thing in the Par- 
 thians to censure the Milesiacs, when many of 
 the Arsacidae who filled the throne were sons of 
 Milesian or Ionian courtesans. 
 
 ^ During these transactions, Orodes was recon- 
 ciled to Artavasdes the Armenian, and had agreed 
 to a marriage between that prince’s sister and 
 his son Pacorus. On this occasion they freely 
 went to each other’s entertainments, in which 
 many of the Greek tragedies were presented. 
 For Orodes was not unversed in the Grecian 
 literature ; and Artavasdes had written tragedies 
 himself, as well as orations and histories, some of 
 which are still extant. In one of these entertain- 
 ments, while they v/ere yet at table, the head of 
 Crassus was brought to the door. Jason, a 
 tragedian of the city of Tralles, was rehearsing 
 the Bacchse of Euripides, and the tragical adven- 
 tures of Pentheus and Agave. All the company 
 were expressing their admiration of the pieces, 
 when Sillaces entering the apartment prostrated 
 himself before the king, and laid the head of 
 Crassus at his feet. The Parthians welcomed it 
 with acclamations of joy, and the attendants, by 
 the king’s order, placed Sillaces at the table. 
 Hereupon, Jason gave one of the actors the habit 
 .of Pentheus, in which he had appeared, and 
 putting on that of Agave, with the frantic air and 
 all the enthusiasm of a Bacchanal, sung that part, 
 where Agave presents the head of Pentheus upon 
 her thyrsus, fancying it to be that of a young 
 lion — 
 
 Well are our toils repaid : On yonder mountain 
 We pierced the lordly savage. 
 
 Finding the company extremely delighted, he 
 went on — 
 
 The Chorus “Who gave the glorious blow?” 
 
 Agave answers, “ Mine, mine, is the prize.” 
 
 Pomaxaethres, who was sitting at the table, upon 
 hearing this started up, and would have taken 
 the head from Jason, insisting that that part be- 
 longed to him, and not to the actor. The king, 
 highly diverted, made Pomaxaethres the presents 
 usual on such occasions, and rewarded Jason with 
 a talent. The expedition of Crassus was a real 
 tragedy, and such was the exodium^ * or farce 
 after it. 
 
 However the Divine Justice punished Orodes 
 for his cruelty, and Surena for his perjury. 
 Orodes, envying the glory Surena had acquired, 
 put him to death soon after. And that prince, 
 having lost his son Pacorus in a battle with the 
 Romans, fell into a languishing disorder which 
 turned to a dropsy. His second son Phraates 
 took the opportunity to give him aconite. But 
 finding the poison worked only upon the watery 
 humour, and was carrying off the disease with 
 it, he took a shorter method, and strangled him 
 with his own hands.! 
 
 * Exodium, in its original sense, signified the 
 unravelling of the plot, the catastrophe of a 
 tragedy ; and it retained that sense among the 
 Greeks. But when the Romans began to act 
 their light satirical pieces ( f which they had 
 always been very fond) after their tragedies, they 
 applied the term to those pieces, 
 t There have been more execrable characters. 
 
390 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 NICIAS AND CRASSUS COMPARED. 
 
 OxE of the first things that occurs in this com- 
 parison is, that Nicias gained his wealth in a less 
 exceptionable manner than Crassus. The work- 
 ing of mines, indeed, does not seem very suitable 
 to a man of Nicias’s character, where the persons 
 employed are commonly malefactors or barba- 
 rians, some of which work in fetters, till the 
 damps and unwholesome air put an end to their 
 being. But it is comparatively an honourable 
 pursuit, when put in parallel with getting an 
 estate by the confiscations of Sylla, or by buying 
 houses in the midst of fires. Yet Crassus dealt 
 as openly in these things as he did in agriculture 
 and usury. As to the other matters which he 
 was censured for, and which he denied, namely, 
 his making money of his vote in the senate, his 
 extorting it from the allies, his overreaching silly 
 women by flattery, and his undertaking die de- 
 fence of ill men ; nothing like -these tMngs was 
 ever^ imputed by slander herself to Nicias. As 
 to his wasting his money upon those who made 
 a trade of impeachments, to prevent their doing 
 him any harm, it was a circumstance which 
 exposed him to ridicule ; and unworthy, per- 
 haps, of the characters of Pericles and Aristides ; 
 but necessary for him, who had a timidity in his 
 nature. It was a thing which Lycurgus the 
 orator afterwards made a merit of to the people : 
 
 but there is not, perhaps, in the history of man- 
 kind, one more contemptible than that of Cras- 
 sus. His ruling passion was the most sordid 
 lust of wealth, and the whole of his conduct, 
 political, popular, and military, was subservient 
 to this. If at any time he gave in to public 
 munificence, it was with him no more than a 
 species of commerce. By thus treating the 
 people, he was lajnng out his money in the 
 purchase of provinces. When Syria fell to his 
 lot, the transports he discovered sprung not from 
 the great ambition of carrying the Roman eagles 
 over the east : they were nothing more than the 
 joy of a miser, when he stumbles upon a hidden 
 treasure. Dazzled with the prospect of bar- 
 bar.an gold, he grasped with eagerness a com- 
 mand for which he had no adequate capacity. 
 We find him ernbarrassed by the slightest diffi- 
 culties in his military operations, and, when his 
 obstinacy would permit him, taking his measures 
 from ^ the advice of his lieutenants. We look 
 with indignation on the Roman squadrons stand- 
 ing, by his dispositions, as a mark for the Par- 
 thian archers, and incapable of acting either on 
 the offensive or defensive. The Romans could 
 not be ignorant of the Parthian method of at- 
 tacking and retreating, when they had before 
 spent so much time in Armenia. The fame of 
 their cavalry could not be unknown in a country 
 where it was so much dreaded. It was, there- 
 fore, the first business of the Roman general to 
 avoid those countries which might give them 
 any advantage in the equestrian action. But 
 the hot scent of eastern treasure made him a 
 dupe even to the policy of the barbarians, and to 
 arrive at this the nearest way, he sacrificed the 
 lives of 30,000 Romans. 
 
 when censured for having bouglit off one of 
 these trading informers, “ I rejoice,” said he, 
 “ that after being so long employed in the ad- 
 ministration, I am discovered to have given 
 money, and not taken it. ” 
 
 As to their expenses, Nicias appears to have 
 been more public spirited in his. His offerings 
 to the gods, and the games and tragedies with 
 which he entertn.iiied the people, were so many 
 proofs of noble and generous sentiments. It is 
 true, all that Nicias laid out in this manner, and, 
 indeed, his whole estate, amounted only to a 
 small part of what Crassus expended at once, in 
 entertaining so many myriads of men, and sup- 
 plying them with bread afterwards. But it 
 would be very strange to me, if there should be 
 any one who does not perceive that this vice is 
 nothing but an inequality and inconsistency of 
 character ; particularly when he sees men laying 
 out that money in an honourable manner, which 
 they have got dishonourably. So much with 
 regard to their riches. 
 
 If we consider their behaviour in the adminis- 
 tration, we shall not find in Nicias any instance 
 of cunning, injustice, violence, or effrontery. 
 On the contrary, he suffered Alcibiades to im- 
 pose upon him, and he was modest or rather 
 timid in his applications to the people. Whereas 
 Crassus, in turning from his friends to his 
 enemies, and back again if his interest required 
 it, is justly accused of an illiberal duplicity. 
 Nor could he deny that he used violence to 
 attain the con.sulship, when he hired ruffians to 
 lay their hands upon Cato and Domitius. In the 
 assembly that was held for the allotment of the 
 provinces, many were wounded, and four citizens 
 killed. Nay, Crassus himself struck a senator, 
 named Lucius Annalius, who opposed his mea- 
 sures, upon the face with his fist (a circumstance 
 which escaped us in his Life), and drove him out 
 of the fpr7i77i covered with blood. 
 
 But if Crassus was too violent and tyrannical 
 in his proceedings, Nicias was as much too 
 timid, His poltroonery and mean submission 
 to the most abandoned persons in the state de- 
 serve the greatest reproach. Besides, Crassus 
 showed some magnanimity and dignity of senti- 
 ment, in contending, not with such wretches as 
 Cleon and Hyperbolus,^ but with the glory of 
 Caesar, and the three triumphs of Pompey. In 
 fact, he maintained the dispute well with them 
 for power, and in the high honour of the censor- 
 ship he was even beyond Pompey. For he who 
 wants to stand at the helm, should not consider 
 what may expose him to envy, but what is great 
 and glorious, and may by its lustre force envy 
 to speak behind. But if security and repose are 
 to be consulted above all things ; if you are 
 afraid of Alcibiades upon the rostr7i77i, of the 
 Lacedaemonians at Pylos,' and of Perdiccas in 
 Thrace, then, surely, Nicias, Athens is wide 
 enough to afford you a corner to retire to, where 
 you may weave yourself the soft crown of tran- 
 quility, as some of the philosophers express it. 
 The love Nicias had for peace was, indeed, a 
 divine attachment, and his endeavours, during 
 
mCIAS AND CD ASS US COMPARED. 
 
 391 
 
 his whole administration, to put an end to the 
 war, were worthy of the Grecian humanity. 
 This alone places him in so honourable a light, 
 that Crassus could not have been compared with 
 him, though he had made the Caspian sea or 
 the Indian ocean the boundary of the Roman 
 empire. 
 
 Nevertheless, in a commonwealth which re- 
 tains any sentiments of virtue, he who has the 
 lead should not give place for a moment to 
 persons of no principle ; he should intrust no 
 charge with those who want capacity, nor place 
 any confidence in those who want honour. And 
 Nicias certainly did this in raising Cleon to the 
 command of the army, a man who had nothing 
 to recommend him but his impudence and his 
 bawling in the rostrum. On the other hand, 
 
 I do not commend Crassus for advancing to 
 action, in the war with Spartacus, with more 
 expedition than prudence : though his ambition 
 had this excuse, that he was afraid Pompey 
 would come and snatch his laurels from hirn, as 
 Mummius had done from Metellus at Corinth. 
 But the conduct of Nicias was very absurd and 
 mean-spirited. He would not give up to his 
 enemy the honour and trust of commander in 
 chief while he could execute that charge with 
 ease, and had good hopes of success ; but as 
 soon as he saw it attended with great danger, 
 he was willing to secure himself, though he 
 exposed the public by it. It was not thus 
 ThemistoeVes behaved in the Persian war. To 
 prevent the advancement of a man to the com- 
 mand who had neither capacity nor principle, 
 which he knew must have been the ruin of his 
 country, he prevailed with him by a sum of 
 money to give up his pretensions. And Cato 
 stood for the tribuneship, when he saw it would 
 involve him in the greatest trouble and danger. 
 On the contrary, Nicias was willing enough to 
 be general, when he had only to go against 
 Minoa, Cythera, or the poor Melians ; but if 
 there was occasion to fight with the Lacedae- 
 monians, he put off his armour, and intrusted 
 the ships, the men, the warlike stores, in short 
 the entire direction of a war which required the 
 most consummate prudence and experience, to 
 the ignorance and rashness of Cleon, in which 
 he was not only unjust to himself and his own 
 honour, but to the welfare and safety of his 
 country. This made the Athenians send him 
 afterwards, contrary to his inclination, against 
 Syracuse. They thought it was not a conviction 
 of the improbability of success, but a regard to 
 his own ease and a want of spirit, which made 
 him willing to deprive them of the conquest of 
 Sicily. 
 
 There is, however, this great proof of his 
 integrity, that though he was perpetually against 
 war, and always declined the command, yet they 
 failed not to appoint him to it as the ablest and 
 best general they had. But Crassus, though he 
 was for ever aiming at such a charge, never 
 gained one except in the war with the gladiators ; 
 and that only because Pompey, Metellus, and 
 both the Lucullus’s were absent. This is the 
 more remarkable, because Crassus was arrived 
 at a high degree of authority and power. But, 
 it seems, his best friends thought him (as the 
 comic poet expresses it) — 
 
 In all trades skilled except the trade of war. 
 
 However, this knowledge of his talents availed 
 the Romans but little ; his ambition never let 
 them rest, till they assigned him a province. 
 The Athenians employed Nicias against his in- 
 clination ; and it was against the inclination of 
 the Romans that Crassus led them out. Crassus 
 involved his country in misfortunes ; but the 
 misfortunes of Nicias were owing to his country. 
 
 Nevertheless, in this respect, it is easier to 
 commend Nicias than to blame Crassus. The 
 capacity and skill of the former as a general 
 kept him from being drawn away with the vain 
 hopes of his countrymen, and he declared from 
 the first that Sicily could not be conquered : the 
 latter called out the Romms to the Parthian 
 war, as an easy undertaking. In this he found 
 himself sadly deceived ; yet his aim was great. 
 While Caesar was subduing the west, the Gauls, 
 the Germans, and Britain, he attempted to 
 penetrate to the Indian ocean on the east, and 
 to conquer all Asia ; things which Pompey and 
 Lucullus would have effected if they had been 
 able. But though they were both engaged in 
 the same designs, and made the same attempts 
 with Crassus, their characters stood unimpeached 
 both as to moderation and probity. If Crassus 
 was opposed by one of the tribunes in his Par- 
 thian expedition, Pompey was opposed by the 
 senate when he got Asia for his province. And 
 when Csesar had routed 300,000 Germans, Cato 
 voted that he should be given up to that injured 
 people, to atone for the violation of the peace. 
 But the Roman people, paying no regard to Cato, 
 ordered a thanksgiving to the gods, for fifteen 
 days, and thought themselves happy in the 
 advantage gained. In what raptures then would 
 they have been, and for how many days would 
 they have offered sacrifices, if Crassus could 
 have sent them an account from Babylon, that 
 he was victorious ; and if he had proceeded from 
 thence through Media, Persia, Hyrcania, Susa, 
 and Bactria, and reduced them to the form of 
 Roman provinces. For, according to Euripides, 
 if justice must be violated, and men cannot sit 
 down quiet and contented with their present 
 possessions, it should not be for taking the small 
 town of Scandia, or razing such a castle as 
 Mende ; nor yet for going in chase of the 
 fugitive Eginitae, who, like birds, have retired 
 to another country : the price of injustice should 
 be high ; so sacred a thing as right should not 
 be invaded for a trifling consideration, for that 
 would be treating it with contempt indeed. _ In 
 fact, they who commend Alexander’s expedition, 
 and decry that of Crassus, judge of actions only 
 by the event. 
 
 As to their military performances, several of 
 Nicias’s are very considerable. He gained many 
 battles, and was very near taking Syracuse. 
 Nor were all his miscarriages so many errors ; 
 but they were to be imputed partly to his ill 
 health, and partly to the envy of his countrymen 
 at home. On the other hand, Crassus committed 
 so many errors, that Fortune had no opportunity 
 to show him any favour ; wherefore we need not 
 so much wonder, that the Parthian power got the 
 better of his incapacity, as that his incapacity 
 prevailed over the good fortune of Rome. 
 
 As one of them paid the greatest attention to 
 divination, and the other entirely disregarded it, 
 and yet both perished alike, it is hard to say 
 whether the observation of omens is a salutary 
 
392 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 thing or not. Nevertheless, to err on the side of 
 religion, out of regard to ancient and received 
 opinions, is a more pardonable thing, than to err 
 through obstinacy and presumption. 
 
 Crassus, however, was not so reproachable in 
 his exit. He did not surrender himself, or sub- 
 mit to be bound, nor was he deluded with vain 
 
 hopes ; but in yielding to the instances of his 
 friends he met his fate, and fell a victim to the 
 perfidy and injustice of the barbarians. Whereas 
 Nicias, from a mean and unmanly fondness for 
 life, put himself in the enemy’s hands, by which 
 means he came to a baser and more dishonourable 
 end. 
 
 SERTORIUS. 
 
 It is not at all astonishing that Fortune, in the 
 variety of her motions through a course of 
 numberless ages, happens often to hit upon the 
 same point, and to produce events perfectly 
 similar. For, if the number of events be infinite. 
 Fortune may easily furnish herself with parallels 
 in such abundance of matter : if their number be 
 limited, there must necessarily be a return of the 
 same occurrences, when the whole is run 
 through. 
 
 Some there are who take a pleasure in collect- 
 ing those accidents and adventures they have met 
 with in history or conversation, which have such 
 a characteristical likeness, as to appear the 
 effects of reason and foresight. For example, 
 there were two eminent persons of the name of 
 Attis,* the one a Syrian, the other an Arcadian, 
 who were both killed by a boar. There were two 
 Acteons, one of which was torn in pieces by his 
 dogs and the other by his lovers. t Of the two 
 Scipios, one conquered Carthage, and the other 
 demolished it. Troy was taken three times ; the 
 first time by Hercules, on account of Laomedon’s 
 horses ; the second time by Agamemnon, through 
 means of the wooden horse ; % the third by 
 Charidemus, a horse happening to stand in the 
 way, and hindering the Trojans from shutting 
 the gates so quickly as they should have done. 
 There are two cities that bear the names of the 
 most odoriferous plants, los § and ^ Smyrna, 
 Violet and Myrrh, and Homer is said to have 
 been born in the one, and to have died in the 
 other. To these instances we may add, that some 
 of the generals who have been the greatest 
 warriors, and have exerted their capacity for 
 
 * Pausanias, in his Achaics, mentions one Attis 
 or Attes, the son of Calaus the Phrygian, who 
 introduced the worship of the mother of the gods 
 among the Lydians. He was himself under a 
 natural incapacity of having children, and there- 
 fore he might possibly be the first who proposed 
 that all the priests of that goddess should be 
 eunuchs. .Pausanias adds, that Jupiter, dis- 
 pleased at his being so great a favourite with her, 
 sent a boar, which ravaged the fields and slew 
 Attis, as well as many of the Lydians. We 
 know nothing of any other Attis. 
 
 t Acteon the son of Aristeseus, -was torn in 
 pieces by his own dogs, and Acteon the son of 
 Melissus by the BaccMadse. See the SchoLast 
 upon Apollonius, book iv. 
 
 f T.xese are all wooden instances of events 
 being under the guidance of an intelligent being. 
 Nay,' they are such puerilities as Timaeus himself 
 scarce ever gave into. 
 
 § Some suppose los to have been an ^ island 
 rather than a town. But if it was an island, 
 there might be a town in it of the same name, 
 which was often the case in the Greek islands. 
 
 stratagem in the most successful manner, have 
 had but one eye ; I mean Philip, Antigonus, 
 Hannibal, and Sertorius, whose life we are now 
 going to write. A man whose conduct, with 
 respect to women, was preferable to that of 
 Philip, who was more faithful to his friends than 
 Antigonus, and more humane to his enemies than 
 Hannibal ; but, though he was inferior to none of 
 them in capacity, he fell short of them all in 
 success. Fortune, indeed, was ever more cruel 
 to him than his most inveterate and avowed 
 enemies ; yet he showed himself a match for 
 Metellus in experience, for Pompey in noble 
 daring, for Sylla in his victories, nay, for the 
 whole Roman people in power ; and was all the 
 while an exile and a sojourner among barbarians. 
 
 The Grecian general who, we think, most 
 resembles him, is Eumenes of Cardia.* * * § Both of 
 them excelled in point of generalship : in all the 
 art of stratagem, as well as courage. , Both were 
 banished their own countries, and commanded 
 armies in others. And both had to contend with 
 Fortune, who persecuted them so violently, that 
 at last they were assassinated through the 
 treachery of those very persons whom they had 
 otten led to victory. 
 
 Quintus Sertorius was of a respectable family 
 in the town of Nursia, and country of the Sabines. 
 Having lost his father when a child, he had a 
 liberal education given him by his mother, whom 
 on that account he always loved with the greates t 
 tenderness. Her name was Rhea. He wai' 
 sufficiently qualified to speak in a court of justice ; 
 and by his abilities that^ way gained some 
 interest, when but a youth, in Rome itself. But 
 his greater talents for the camp, and his success 
 as a soldier, turned his ambition into that 
 channel. 
 
 He made his first campaign under Csepio,f 
 when the Cimbri and Teut^ nes broke into Gaul. 
 The Romans fought a battle, in which their be- 
 haviour was but indifferent, and they were put to 
 the rout. On this occasion Sertorius lost his 
 horse, and received many wounds himself, yet he 
 swam the river Rhone, armed as he was with his 
 breastplate and shield, in spite of the violence 
 of the torrent. Such was his strength of body, and 
 so much had he improved that strength by exer- 
 cise. 
 
 The same enemy came on a second time, with 
 such prodigious numbers, and such dreadful 
 menaces, that it was difficult to prevail with a 
 
 In the Thracian Che; sonesus. 
 t In the printed text it is Scipio; but two 
 manuscripts give us Ccepio. And it certainly was 
 Q. Servilius Caepio, who, with the consul Cn. 
 Mallius, was defeated by the Cimbri, in the 
 fourth year of the hundred and sixty-eighth 
 olympiad, 103 years before the Christian era. 
 
SEE TOR I US, 
 
 393 
 
 Roman to keep his post, or to obey his general. 
 Marius had then the command, and Sertorius 
 offered his service to go as a spy, and bring him 
 an account of the enemy. For this purpose he 
 took a Gaulish habit, and having learned as 
 much of the language as might suffice for com- 
 mon address, he mingled with the barbarians. 
 When he had seen and heard enough to let him 
 into the measures they were taking, he returned 
 to Marius, who honoured him with the established 
 rewards of valour ; and, during that whole war, 
 he gave such proo's of his courage and capacity, 
 as raised him to distinction, and perfectly gained 
 him the confidence of his general. 
 
 After the war with the Cimbri and Teutones, he 
 was sent as a legionary tribune, under Didius, 
 into Spain, and took up his winter quarters in 
 Castulo,* a city of the Celtiberians. The soldiers, 
 living in great plenty, behaved in an insolent and 
 disorderly manner, and commonly drank to in- 
 toxication. The barbarians, seeing this, held 
 them in contempt ; and one night having got 
 assistance from their neighbours the Gyrisoenians,t 
 they entered the houses where they were quartered, 
 and put them to the sword. Sertorius, with a 
 few more, having found means to escape, sallied 
 out and collected all that he had got out of the 
 hands of the barbarians. Then he marched round 
 the town, and finding the gate open at which 
 the Gyrisoenians had been privately admitted, he 
 entered ; but took care not to commit the same 
 error they had done. He placed a guard there, 
 made himself master of all the quarters of the 
 town, and slew all the inhabitants who were able 
 to bear arms. After this execution, he ordered 
 his soldiers to lay aside their own arms and 
 clothes, and take those of the barbarians, and 
 to follow him in that form to the city of the 
 Gyrisoenians. The people, deceived by the suits 
 of armour and habits they were acquainted with, 
 opened their gates, and sallied forth, in expecta- 
 tion of meeting their friends and fellow-citizens 
 in all the joy of success. The consequence of 
 which was, that the greatest part of them were 
 cut in pieces at the gates : the rest surrendered, 
 and were sold as slaves. 
 
 By this manoeuvre, the name of Sertorius be- 
 came famous in Spain ; and upon his return to 
 Rome, he was appointed quaestor in the Cisalpine 
 Gaul. That appointment was a very seasonable 
 one ; for the Marian war soon breaking out, 
 and Sertorius being employed to levy troops 
 and to provide arms, he proceeded in that com- 
 mission with such expedition and activity, that 
 while effeminacy and supineness were spreading 
 among the rest of the Roman youth, he was con- 
 sidered as a man of spirit and enterprise. 
 
 Nor did his martial intrepidity abate, when he 
 arrived at the degree of general. His personal 
 exploits \yere still great, and he faced danger in 
 the most fearless manner ; in consequence of 
 which he had one of his eyes struck out. This, 
 however, he always gloried in. He said, others 
 did not always carry about with them the honour- 
 able badges of their valour, but sometimes laid 
 
 * A town of New Castile, on the confines of 
 Andalusia. 
 
 t The Gyrisoenians being a people whom we 
 know nothing of, it has been conjectured that 
 we should read Orisians. The Orisians were 
 of that district. See Cellarius, 
 
 aside their chains, their truncheons, and coronets ; 
 while he had perpetually the evidences of his 
 bravery about him, and those who saw his mis- 
 fortune, at the same time beheld his courage. The 
 people, too, treated him with the highest respect. 
 When he entered the theatre, they received him 
 with the loudest plaudits and acclamations ; an 
 honour which officers distinguished for their age 
 and achievements did not easily obtain. 
 
 Yet when he stood for the office of tribune of 
 the people, he lost it through the opposition of 
 Sylla’s faction : which was the chief cause of his 
 perpetual enmity against Sylla. When Marius 
 was overpowered by Sylla, and fled for his life, 
 and Sylla was gone to carry on the war against 
 Mithridates, Octavius, one of the consuls, re- 
 mained in Sylla’s interest ; but Cinna, the other 
 consul, whose temper was restless and seditious, 
 endeavoured to revive the sinking faction of 
 Marius. Sertorius joined the latter ; the rather 
 because he perceived that Octavius did not act 
 with vigour, and that he distrusted the friends of 
 Marius. 
 
 Some time after, a great battle was fought by 
 the consuls in the fo^um, in which Octavius 
 was victorious, and Cinna and Sertorius having 
 lost not much less than 10,000 men, were forced 
 to fly. But, as there was a number of troops 
 scattered up and down in Italy, they gained them 
 by promises, and with that addition found them- 
 selves able to make head against Octavius again. 
 At the same time Marius arrived from Africa, 
 and offered to range himself under the banners 
 of Cinna, as a private man under the consul. 
 The officers were of opinion that they ought to 
 receive him ; only Sertorius opposed it. Whether 
 it was that he thought Cinna would not pay so 
 much attention to him, when he had a man of so 
 much greater name, as a general, in his army ; 
 or whether he feared, the cruelty of Marius would 
 throw all their affairs into confusion again ; as he 
 indulged his resentments without any regard to 
 justice or moderation whenever he had the ad- 
 vantage. He remonstrated, that as they were 
 already superior to the enemy, they had not 
 much left to do ; but if they admitted Marius 
 among them, he would rob them of all the 
 honour and the power at the same time, for he 
 could not endure an associate in command, and 
 was treacherous in everything where his own 
 interest was concerned. 
 
 Cinna answered, that the sentiments of Ser- 
 torius were perfectly right, but that he was 
 ashamed, and indeed knew not how to reject 
 Marius, when he had invited hiin to take a part 
 in the direction of affairs. Sertorius replied, “I 
 imagined that Marius had come of his own accord 
 into Italy, and pointed out to you what in that 
 case was most expedient tor you to do : but as 
 he came upon your invitation, you should not 
 have deliberated * a moment whether he was to 
 be admitted or not. You should have received 
 him immediately. True honour leaves no room 
 for doubt and hesitation.” 
 
 Cinna then sent for Marius ; and the forces 
 being divided into three parts, each of these three 
 great officers had a command. When the war 
 was over, Cinna and Marius gave in to every 
 kind of insolence and cruelty. Sertorius alone 
 neither put any man to death to glut his own 
 
 * Qui deliberant desciverunt. T.a.cit. 
 
394 
 
 FLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 revenge, nor committed any other outrage : on 
 the contrary, he reproached Marius with his 
 savage proceedings, and applying to Cinna in 
 private, prevailed with him to make a more 
 moderate use of his power. At last, finding that 
 the slaves, whom Marius had admitted his fellow 
 soldiers, and afterwards employed as the guards 
 of his tyranny,* * * § were a strong and numerous 
 body ; and that partly by order or permission 
 of Marius, partly by their native ferocity, they 
 proceeded to the greatest excesses, killing their 
 masters, abusing their mistresses, and violating 
 the children ; he concluded, that these outrages 
 were insupportable, and shot them all with arrows 
 in their camp, though the number was not less 
 than 4000. 
 
 After the death of Marius, the assassination of 
 Cinna that followed it, and the appointment of 
 young Marius to the consulship, contrary to the 
 will of Sertorius and the laws of Rome, Garbo, 
 Scipio, add Norbanus carried on the war against 
 Sylla, now returned to Italy, but without any 
 success. For sometimes the officers behaved in 
 a mean and dastardly manner, and sometimes 
 the troops deserted in large bodies. In this case 
 Sertorius began to think his presence of no im- 
 portance, as he saw their affairs under a miserable 
 direction, and that persons of tke least under- 
 standing had most power. He was the more 
 confirmed in his opinion, when Sylla, encamped 
 near Scipio, and amusing him with caresses, under 
 pretence of an approaching peace, was all the 
 \vhile corrupting his troops. Sertorius adver- 
 tised Scipio of it several times, and told him what 
 the event would be, but he never listened to him. 
 
 Then giving up Rome for lost, he retired with 
 the utmost expedition into Spain ; hoping, if he 
 could get the government there into his hands, to 
 be able to afford protection to such of his friends 
 as might be beaten in Italy. He met with dread- 
 ful storms on his way, and when he came to the 
 niountains adjoining to Spain, the barbarians 
 insisted that he should pay toll, and purchase his 
 passage over them. Ihose that attended him 
 were fired with indignation, and thought it an 
 insufferable thing for a Roman proconsul to pay 
 toll to such a crew of barb.arians. But he made 
 light of the seeming disgrace, and said time was 
 the thing he purchased, than which nothing in 
 the world could be more precious to a man en- 
 gaged in great attempts. He therefore satisfied 
 the demands of the mountaineers, and passed 
 over into Spain without losing a moment. 
 
 He found the country very populous, and 
 abounding in youth fit for war, but at the same 
 time the people, oppressed by the avarice and 
 rapacity of former governors, were ill disposed 
 towards any Roman government whatever. To 
 remove this aversion, he tried to gain the better 
 sort by his affable and obliging manner, and the 
 populace by lowering the taxes. But his excus- 
 ing them from providing quarters for the soldiers 
 was the most agreeable measure. For he ordered 
 his men to pass the winter in tents without the 
 walls, and he set them the example. He did 
 not, however, place his whole dependence upon 
 the attachment of the barbarians. Whatever 
 Romans had settled there, and were fit to bear 
 arms, he incorporated with his ti'oops ; he pro- 
 vided such a variety of warlike machines, and 
 
 * The Barditeans. 
 
 built such a number of ships, as kept the cities 
 in awe : and though his address was mild and 
 gentle in peace, he made himself formidable by 
 his preparations for war. 
 
 As soon as he was informed that Sylla had 
 made himself master of Rome, and that the fac- 
 tion of Marius and Carbo was entirely suppressed, 
 he concluded that an army would soon be sent 
 against him under the conduct of an able general. 
 For this reason he sent Julius Salinator, with 
 6000 foot, to block up the passes of the Pyrenees. 
 In a little time Caius Annins arrived on the part 
 of Sylla ; and seeing it impossible to dislodge 
 Salinator, he sat down at the foot of the moun- 
 tain, not knowing how to proceed. While he 
 was in this perplexity, one Calpurnius, surnamed 
 Lenarius, assassinated Salinator, and his troops 
 thereupon quitting the Pyrenees, Annins passed 
 them, easily repulsing with his great army the 
 few that opposed him. Sertorius, not being in a 
 condition to give him battle, retired with 3000 
 men to New Carthage ; where he embarked, and 
 crossed over to Africa. The Maurusian coast 
 was the land he touched upon ; and his men 
 going on shore there to water, and not being 
 upon their guard, the barbarians fell upon them, 
 and killed a considerable number ; so that he 
 was forced to make back for Spain. He found 
 the coasts guarded, and that it was impracticable 
 to make descent there ; but having met with 
 some vessels of Cilician pirates, he persuaded 
 them to join him, and made his landing good in 
 the Isle of Pitiusa,* forcing his way through the 
 guards which Annius had placed there. 
 
 Soon after Annius made his appearance with a 
 numerous fleet, on board of which were 5000 men. 
 Sertorius ventured to engage him ; though his 
 vessels were small, and made rather for swift 
 sailing than strength. But a violent west wind 
 springing up, raised such a storm, that the 
 greatest part of Sertorius’s ships, being too light 
 to bear ujd against it, were driven upon the rocky 
 shore. Sertorius himself was prevented by 
 the storm from making his way at sea, and by 
 the enemy from landing ; so that he was tossed 
 about by the waves for ten days together, and at 
 last escaped with great difficulty. 
 
 At length the wind abated, and he ran in 
 among some scattered islands in that quarter. 
 There he landed ; but finding they were without 
 water, he put to sea again, crossed the Straits of 
 Gades, and keeping to the right, landed a little 
 above the mouth of the river Bietis, which run- 
 ning through a large track to discharge itself in 
 the Atlantic Ocean, gives name to all that part of 
 Spain through which it passes.! There he found 
 some mariners lately arrived from the Atlantic 
 Islands.! These are two in number, separated 
 only by a narrow channel, and are at the distance 
 of 400 leagues § from the African coast. They 
 are called the Fortunate Islands. Rain seldom 
 falls there, and when it does, it falls moderately ; 
 but they generally have soft breezes, which 
 scatter such rich dews, that the soil is not only 
 good for sowing and planting, but spontaneously 
 produces the most excellent fruits, and those in 
 such abundance, that the inhabitants have no- 
 
 * Now Ivica. 
 
 t Batica, now Andalusia, 
 
 t The Canaries. 
 
 § In the original ieti thousand furlongs. 
 
SERTORIUS. 
 
 thing more to do than to indulge themselves in 
 the enjoyment of ease. The air is always plea- 
 sant and salubrious, through the happy tem- 
 perature of the seasons, and their insensible 
 transition into each other. For the north and 
 east winds which blow from our continent, in the 
 immense track they have to pass, are dissipated 
 and lost : while the sea winds, that is, the south 
 and the west, bring with them from the ocean 
 slight and gentle showers, but oflener only a 
 refreshing moisture, which imperceptibly scatters 
 plenty on their plains. So that it is generally 
 believed, even among the barbarians, that these 
 are the Elysian Fields, and the seats of the 
 blessed, which Homer has described in the 
 charms of verse.* 
 
 Sertorius hearing these wonders, conceived a 
 strong desire to fix himself in those islands, where 
 he might live in perfect tranquility, at a distance 
 from the evils of tyranny and war. The Cili' 
 dans, who wanted neither peace nor repose, but 
 riches and spoils, no sooner perceived this, than 
 they bore away for Africa, to restore Ascalis the 
 son of Iphtha to the throne of Mauritania. Ser- 
 torius, far from giving himself up to despair, 
 resolved to go and assist the people who were at 
 war with Ascalis, in order to open to his troops 
 another prospect in this new employment, and 
 to prevent their relinquishing him for want of 
 support. His arrival was very acceptable to the 
 Moors, and he soon beat Ascalis in a pitched 
 battle ; after which he besieged him in the place 
 to which he retired. 
 
 Hereupon,^ Sylla interposed, and sent Paccianus 
 with a considerable force to the assistance of 
 Ascalis. Sertorius meeting him in the field, 
 defeated and killed him ; and having incor- 
 porated his troops with his own, assaulted and 
 took the city of Tingis,t whither Ascalis and his 
 brothers had fled for refuge. The Africans tell 
 us, the body of Antaeus lies there ; and Sertorius, 
 not giving credit to what the barbarians related 
 of his gigantic size, opened his tomb for satisfac- 
 faction. Lut how great was his surprise, when 
 (according to the account we have of it) he 
 beheld a body sixty cubits long. He immedi- 
 ately offered sacrifices and closed up the tomb ; 
 which added greatly to the respect and reputa- 
 tion it had before. 
 
 The people of Tingis relate, that after the 
 death of Antaeus, Flercules took his widow Tinga 
 to his bed, and had by her a son named Sophax, 
 who reigned over that country, and founded a 
 city to which he gave his mother’s name. They 
 add, that Diodorus, the son of Sophax, subdued 
 many African nations with an army of Greeks 
 which he raised out of the colonies of Olbians 
 and Myceneans settled here by Hercules. These 
 particulars we mention for the sake of Juba, the 
 best of all royal historians ; for he is said to have 
 been a descendant of Sophax and Diodorus, the 
 son and grandson of Hercules. 
 
 Sertorius having thus cleared the field, did no 
 sort of harm to those who surrendered themselves 
 or placed a confidence in him. He restored them 
 their possessions and cities, and put the govern- 
 
 * Odyss. iv. 
 
 f In the text Tingene. Strabo tells us, the 
 barbarians call it Tinga, that Artemidorus gives 
 It the name of Linga, and Eratosthenes that of 
 Lixus. 
 
 395 
 
 inent in their hands again ; taking nothing for 
 himself but what they voluntarily offered him. 
 
 As he was deliberating which way he should 
 next turn his arms, the Lusitanians sent ambas- 
 sadors to invite him to take the command among 
 them. For they wanted a general of his reputa- 
 tion and experience, to support them against the 
 terror of the Roman eagles ; and he was the only 
 one on whose character and firmness they could 
 properly depend. Indeed, he is said to have 
 been proof against the impressions both of plea- 
 sure and fear ; intrepid in time of danger, and 
 not too much elated with more prosperous for- 
 tune ; in any great and sudden attempt as daring 
 as any general of his time, and where art and 
 contrivance, as well as despatch, was necessary 
 for seizing a pass or securing a strong hold, one 
 of the greatest masters of stratagem in the world ; 
 noble and generous in rewarding great actions, 
 and in punishing offences very moderate. 
 
 It is true his treatment of the Spanish hostages 
 in the latter part of his life, which bore such 
 strong marks of cruelty and revenge, seems to 
 argue that the clemency he shewed before, was 
 not a real virtue in him, but only a pretended 
 one, taken up to suit his occasions. I think, 
 indeed, that the virtue which is sincere, and 
 founded upon reason, can never be so conquered 
 by any stroke whatever, as to give place to the op- 
 posite. Yet dispositions naturally humane and 
 good, by great and undeserved calamities, may 
 possibly be .soured a little, and the man may 
 change with his fortune. This, I am persuaded, 
 was the case of Sertorius ; when fortune forsook 
 him, his disposition was sharpened by disappoint- 
 ment, and he became severe to those who injured 
 or betrayed him. 
 
 At present, having accepted the invitation to 
 Lusitania, he took his voyage from Africa thither. 
 Upon his arrival he was invested with full autho- 
 rity as general, and levied forces, with which he 
 reduced the neighbouring provinces. Numbers 
 voluntarily came over to him, on account of his 
 reputation for clemency as well as the vigour of 
 his proceedings. And to these advantages he 
 added artifice to amuse and gain the people. 
 
 That of the hind was none of the least.* 
 Spanus, a countryman who lived in those parts, 
 happening to fall in with a hind which had 
 newly yeaned, and which was flying from the 
 hunters, failed in his attempt to take her; but, 
 charmed with the uncommon colour of the fawn, 
 which was a perfect white, he pursued and took 
 it. By good fortune Sertorius had his camp in 
 that_ neighbourhood ; and whatever was brought 
 to him taken in hunting, or of the productions of 
 the field, he received with pleasure, and returned 
 the civility with interest. The countryman went 
 and offered him the fawn. He received this 
 present like the rest, and at first took no extra- 
 ordinary notice of it. But in time it became so 
 tractable and fond of him, that it would come 
 when he called, follow him wherever he went, 
 and learned to bear the hurry and tumult of the 
 camp. By little and little he brought the people 
 to believe there was something sacred and myste- 
 rious in the affair ; giving it out that the fawn 
 was a gift fpm Diana, and that it discovered to 
 him many important secrets. For he knew the 
 natural power of superstition over the minds of 
 
 * Sertorius had learned these arts of Marius. 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 39<j 
 
 the barbarians. In pursuance of his scheme, 
 when the enemy was making a private irruption 
 into the country under his command, or persuad- 
 ing some city to revolt, he pretended the fawn 
 had appeared to.him in a dream, and warned him 
 to have his forces ready. And if he had intel- 
 ligence of some victory gained by his officers, he 
 used to conceal the messenger, and produce the 
 fawn crowned with flowers for its good tidings ; 
 bidding the people rejoice and sacrifice to the 
 gods, on account of some news they would soon 
 hear. 
 
 By this invention he made them so tractable, 
 that they obeyed his orders in everything 
 without hesitation, no longer considering thein- 
 I selves as under the conduct of a stranger, but the 
 immediate direction of heaven. And the astonish- 
 ing increase of his power, far beyond all they 
 could rationally expect, confirmed them in that 
 persuasion. For, with 2600 men, whom he called 
 Romans (though among them there were 700 
 Africans who came over with him) and aii addition 
 of 4000 light-armed Lusitanians and 700 horse, he 
 carried on the war against four Roman generals, 
 who had 120,000 foot, 6000 horse, 2000 archers 
 and slingers, and cities without number under 
 their command ; though at first he had twenty 
 cities only. Nevertheless, with so trifling a force, 
 and such small beginnings, he subdued several 
 great nations, and took many cities. Of the 
 generals that opposed him, he beat Cotta at sea 
 in the Straits over against Mellaria ; he defeated 
 Phidius * who had the chief command in Baetica, 
 and killed 4000 Romans upon the banks of the 
 Bjetis. By his quaestor he beat Domitius and 
 Lucius Manlius, proconsul of the other Spain ; 
 he likewise slew Thoranius,f one of the officers 
 sent against him by Metellus, together with his 
 whole army. Nay, Metellus himself, a general 
 of as great reputation as any the Romans then 
 had, was entangled by him in such difficulties, 
 and reduced to such extremities, that he was 
 forced to call in Lucius Lollius from Gallia Nar- 
 bonensis to his assistance, and Pompey the Great 
 was sent with another army from Rome with the 
 utmost expedition. For Metellus knew not what 
 measure to take against so daring an enemy, who 
 was continually harassing him, and yet would not 
 come to a pitched battle, and who, by the light- 
 ness and_ activity of the Spanish troops, turned 
 himself into all manner of forms. He was 
 sufficiently skilled, indeed, in set battles, and he 
 commanded a firm heavy-armed infantry, which 
 knew how to repulse and bear down anything 
 that would make head against them, but had no 
 experience in climbing mountains, or capacity to 
 vie in flying and pursuing men as swift as the 
 wind : nor could his troops bear hunger, eat any- 
 thing undressed, or lie upon the ground without 
 tents, like those of Sertorius. Besides, Metellus 
 was now advanced in years, and after his many 
 campaigns and long service, had begun to indulge 
 himself in a more delicate way of living : whereas 
 Sertorius was in the vigour of his age, full of 
 
 * Xylander has it Diahis, which is agreeable 
 to some manuscripts ; Cruserius, upon conjecture 
 only, reads it Aufidius. P'reinshem, in his Sup- 
 plement to Livy (xc. 28) calls this general 
 Fzirfidius ; and he might do it upon authority of 
 some ancient manuscript of Plutarch, 
 t Floras has it Thorius. 
 
 spirits, and had brought strength and activity to 
 the greatest perfection by exercise and abstemious- 
 ness. He never indulged in wine, even when he 
 had nothing else to do ; and he had accustomed 
 himself to bear labour and fatigue, to make long 
 marches, and pass many successive nights with- 
 out sleep, though supported all the while with 
 mean and slender diet. By bestowing his leisure 
 on hunting and traversing all the country for 
 game, he had gained such a knowledge of the 
 impracticable as well as open parts of it, that 
 when he wanted to fly, he found no manner of 
 difficulty in it ; and if he had occasion to pursue 
 or surround the enemy, he could execute it with 
 ease. 
 
 Hence it was that Metellus, in being prevented 
 from^ coming to any regular action, suflfered all 
 the inconveniences of a defeat ; and Sertorius 
 ained as much by flying as he could have done 
 y conquering and pursuing. For he cut his 
 adversary off from water, and prevented his 
 foraging. If the Romans began to march, he 
 was on the wing to harass them ; and it they sat 
 still, he galled them in such a manner, that they 
 were forced to quit their post. If they invested 
 a tov/n, he was soon upon them, and by cutting 
 off their convoys, as it were besieged the besiegers ; 
 insomuch, that they began to give up the point, 
 and to call upon Melius to accept the challenge 
 that Sertorius had given ; insisting that general 
 should fight with general, and Roman with 
 Roman ; and when he declined it, they ridiculed 
 and abused him. Metellus only laughed at them, 
 and he did perfectly right ; for, as Theophrastus 
 says, “A general should die like a general, and 
 not like a common soldier.” 
 
 He found that the Langobritse were very 
 serviceable to Sertorius, and perceived, at the 
 same time, that he might soon bring them to 
 surrender for want of water ; for they had but 
 one well in the city, and an enemy might imme- 
 diately make himself master of the springs in the 
 suburbs, and under the walls. He therefore 
 advanced against the town ; but concluding he 
 should take it within two days, he ordered his 
 troops to take only five days’ provisions with 
 them. But Sertorius gave the people speedy 
 assistance. He got 2000 skins, and filled them 
 with water, promising a good reward for the care 
 of each vessel or skin. A number of Spaniards 
 and Moors offered their service on this occasion ; 
 and having selected the strongest and swiftest of 
 them, he sent them along the mountains, with 
 orders, when they delivered these vessels, to take 
 all useless persons out of the town, that the water 
 might be fully sufficient for the rest during the 
 whole course of the siege. 
 
 When Metellus was iniormed of this manoeuvre, 
 he was greatly concerned at it ; and as his pro- 
 visions began to fail, he sent out Aquilius with 
 6000 men to collect fresh supplies. Sertorius, 
 who had early intelligence of it, laid an ambush 
 for Aquilius, and upon his return, 3000 men, who 
 were placed in the shady channel of a brook for 
 the purpose, rose up and attacked him in the 
 rear. At the same time Sertorius himself charged 
 him in front, killed a considerable number of his 
 party, and took the rest prisoners. Aquilius got 
 back to Metellus, but with the loss both of his 
 horse and his arms ; whereupon Metellus retired 
 with disgrace, greatly insulted and ridiculed by 
 the Spaniards. 
 
SERTORIUS, 
 
 397 
 
 This success pi-ocured Sertorius the admiration 
 and esteem of the Spaniards ; but what charmed 
 them still more was, that he armed them in the 
 Roman manner, taught them to keep their ranks, 
 and to obey the word of comniand ; so that, 
 instead of exerting their strength in a savage and 
 disorderly manner, and behaving like a multitude 
 of banditti, he polished them into regular forces.. 
 Another agreeable circumstance was, that he 
 furnished them with abundance of gold and silver 
 to gild their helmets, and enrich their shields; 
 and that he taught them to wear embroidered 
 vests, and magnificent coats ; nor did he give 
 them supplies only for these purposes, but he set 
 them the example.* The finishing stroke was, 
 his collecting, from the various nations, the 
 children of the nobility into the great city of 
 Osca,t and his furnishing them with masters to 
 instruct them in the Grecian and Roman literature. 
 This had the appearance only of an education, to 
 prepare them to be admitted citizens of Rome, 
 and to fit them for important commissions but, 
 in fact, the children were so many hostages. 
 Meanwhile the parents were delighted to see 
 their sons in gowns bordered with purple, and 
 walking in great state to the schools, without any 
 expense to them. For Sertorius took the whole 
 upon himself, often examining besides into the 
 improvements they made, and distributing proper 
 rewards to those of most merit, among which were 
 the golden ornaments furling down from the neck, 
 called by the Romans bullce. 
 
 It was then the custom in Spain, for the band 
 which fought near the general’s person, when he 
 fell to die with him. This manner of devoting 
 themselves to death, the barbarians call a Liba- 
 tion.X The other generals had but a few of these 
 guards or knights companions ; whereas Sertorius 
 was attended by many myriads, who had laid 
 themselves under that obligation. It is said, 
 that when he was once defeated near the walls of 
 a town, and the enemy were pressing hard upon 
 him, the Spaniards, to save Sertorius, exposed 
 themselves without any precaution. They passed 
 him upon their shoulders, from one to ano her, 
 till he had gained the walls, and when their 
 general was secure, then they dispersed, and fled 
 for their own lives. 
 
 Nor was he beloved^ by the Spanish soldiers 
 only, but by those which came from Italy too. 
 When Perpenna Vento, who was of the same 
 party with Sertorius, came into Spain with a 
 great quantity of money, and a respectable army, 
 intending to proceed in his operations against 
 Metellus upon his oWn bottom ; the troops dis- 
 liked the scheme, and nothing was tajked of in 
 the_ camp but Sertorius. This gave great un- 
 easiness to Perpenna, who was much elated with 
 his high birth and opulent fortune. Nor did the 
 matter stop here. Upon their having intelligence 
 that Pompey had passed the Pyrenees, the soldiers 
 took up their arms and standards, and loudly 
 called upon Perpenna to lead them to Sertorius ; 
 
 * Alexander had taken the same method, before 
 him, among the Persians. For he ordered 30,000 
 Persian boys to be taught Greek, and trained in 
 the Macedonian manner. 
 
 t A city in Hispania Tarraconensis. 
 
 t Gaul, the persons who laid themselves 
 3 ? obligation, were called Soldarii. C/ES. 
 ae Bell Gall. 1. ifi. 
 
 threatening, if he would not comply, to leave 
 him, and go to a general who knew how to save 
 both himself and those under his command. So 
 that Perpenna was forced to yield, and he went 
 and joined Sertorius with fifty-three cohorts.* 
 
 Sertorius now found himself at the head of a 
 great army ; for, besides the junction of Per- 
 penna, all the countries within the Iberus had 
 adopted his interest, and troops were daily 
 flocking in on all sides. But it gave him pain to 
 see them behave with the disorder and ferocity 
 of barbarians ; to find them calling upon him to 
 give the signal to charge, and impatient of the 
 least delay. He tried what mild representations 
 would do, and they had no effect. They still 
 continued obstinate and clamorous, often demand- 
 ing the combat in a very unseasonable manner. 
 At last he permitted them to engage in their own 
 way, in consequence of which they would suffer 
 great loss, though he designed to prevent their 
 being entirely defeated. These checks, he hoped, 
 would make them more willing to be under dis- 
 cipline. 
 
 The event answered his expectation. They 
 fought, and were beaten ; but making up with 
 succours, he rallied the fugitives, and conducted 
 them safe into the camp. His next step was to 
 rouse them up out of their despondence. For 
 which purpose, a few days after, he assembled 
 all his forces, and produced two horses before 
 them ; the one old and feeble, the other large and 
 strong, and remarkable besides for a fine flowing 
 tail. By the poor weak horse stood a robust 
 able-bodied man, and by the strong horse stood a 
 little man of a very contemptible appearance. 
 Upon a signal given, the strong man began 
 to pull and drag about the weak horse by the 
 tail, as if he v/ould pull it off ; and the little man 
 to pluck off the hairs of the great horse’s tail, one 
 by one. The former tugged and toiled a long 
 time to the great diversion of the .spectators, and 
 at last was forced to give up the point ; the 
 latter, without any difficulty, soon stripped the 
 great horse’s tail of all its hair.f Then Sertorius 
 rose up and said, “You see, my friends and fellow 
 soldiers, how much greater are the effects of per- 
 severance, than those of force, and that there are 
 many things invincible in their collective capacity 
 and in a state of union, which may gradually be 
 overcome when they are once separated. In 
 short, perseverance is irresistible. By this 
 means, time attacks and destroys the strongest 
 things upon earth. Time, I say, who is the best 
 friend and ally to those that have the discern- 
 ment to use it properly, and watch the oppor- 
 tunities it presents, and the worst enemy to those 
 who will be rushing into action when it does not 
 call them.” By such symbols as these, Sertorius 
 applied to the senses of the barbarians, and in- 
 structed them to wait for proper junctures and 
 occasions. 
 
 But his contrivance with respect to the Chara- 
 citani gained him as much admiration as any of 
 his military performances whatever. The Chara- 
 citani are seated beyond the river Tagus. They 
 have neither cities nor villages, but dwell upon a 
 large and lofty hill, in dens and caverns of the 
 rocks, the mouths of which are all to the north. 
 The soil of all the country about it is a clay, so 
 
 * A cohort is the tenth part of a legion, 
 t Horace alludes to this, 1 . ii. ep. i. 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 398 
 
 very light and crurnbly that it yields to the 
 pressure of the foot, is reduced to powder by the 
 least touch, and flies about like ashes or unslaked 
 lime. The barbarians, whenever they are appre- 
 hensive of an attack, retire to these caves with 
 their booty, and look upon themselves as in a 
 place perfectly impregnable. 
 
 It happened that Sertorius, retiring to some 
 distance from Metellus, encamped under this 
 hill : and the savage inhabitants imagining he 
 retired only because he was beaten, oftered him 
 several insults. Sertorius, either provoked at 
 such treatment, or willing to show them he was 
 not flying from any enemy, mounted his horse 
 the next day, and went to reconnoitre the place. 
 As he could see no part in which it was acces- 
 sible, he almost despaired of taking it, and could 
 only vent his anger in vain menaces. At last he 
 observed, that the wind blew the dust in great 
 quantities towards the mouths of the caves, 
 which, as I said before, are all to the north. The 
 north wind, which some call Cceczas,* prevails 
 most in those parts ; taking its rise from the 
 marshy grounds, and the mountains covered with 
 snow. And as it was then the height of summer, 
 it was remarkably strong, having fresh supplies 
 from the melting of the ice on the northern peaks; 
 so that it blew a most agreeable gale, which in 
 the daytime refreshed both these savages and 
 their flocks. 
 
 Sertorius reflecting upon what he saw, and 
 being informed by the neighbouring Spaniards 
 that these were the usual appearances, ordered 
 his soldiers to collect vast quantities of that dry 
 and crumbly earth so as to raise a mount of it 
 over against the hill. The barbarians, imagining 
 he intended to storm their strongholds from that 
 mount, laughed at his proceedings. The soldiers 
 went on with their work till night, and then he 
 led them back into the camp. Next morning, at 
 break of day, a gentle breeze sprung up, which 
 moved the lightest part of the heap, and dis- 
 persed it like smoke ; and as the sun got up 
 higher the CcEcias blew again, and by its violence 
 covered all the hill with dust. Meantime the 
 soldiers stirred up the heap from the very 
 bottom, and crumbled all the clay ; and some 
 galloped up and down to raise the light earth, 
 and thicken the clouds of dust in the wind ; 
 which carried them into the dwellings of the 
 Characitani ; their entrances directly facing it. 
 As they were caves, and, of course, had no other 
 aperture, the eyes of the inhabitants were soon 
 filled, and they could scarce breathe for the 
 suffocating dust which they drew in with the air. 
 In these wretched circumstances they held out two 
 days, though with great difficulty, and the third 
 day surrendered themselves to Sertorius at dis- 
 cretion ; who by reducing them, did not gain 
 such an accession of strength as of honour. For 
 an honour it was to subdue those by policy, whom 
 his arms could not reach. 
 
 While he carried on the war against Metellus 
 only, his success in general was imputed to the 
 old age and inactivity of his adversary, who had 
 to contend with a bold young man, at the head 
 of troops so light, that they might pass rather 
 
 * Media inter Aquilonem et Exortum iEqui- 
 noctialem. Plin. 1. ii, c. 47. 
 
 Narrant et in Ponto Csecian in se trahere 
 nubes. Ib. 
 
 for a marauding party, than a regular arany. 
 But when Pompey had passed the Pyrenees, and 
 Sertorius took post against him, every art of 
 generalship on both sides was exhausted, and 
 yet even then it appeared, that in point both of 
 attack and defence, Sertorius had the advantage. 
 In this case, the fame of Sertorius greatly in- 
 . creased, and extended itself as far as Rome, 
 where he was considered the ablest general of 
 his time. Indeed, the honour Pompey had 
 acquired was very considerable, and the actions 
 he had performed under Sylla, set him in a very 
 respectable light, insomuch that Sylla had given 
 him the appellation of the Great and he was 
 distinguished with a triumph, even before he 
 wrote man. This made many of the cities, 
 which were under the command of Sertorius, 
 cast their eyes upon Pompey, and inclined them 
 to open their gates to him. But they returned 
 to their old attachment, upon the unexpected 
 success that attended Sertorius at Lauron.* 
 Sertorius was besieging that place, and Pom‘ 
 pey marched with his whole army to its relief. 
 There was a hill at some distance from the walls, 
 from which the city might be greatly annoyed. 
 Sertorius hastened to seize it, and Pompey to 
 prevent him : but the former gained the post. 
 Pompey, however, sat down by it with great 
 satisfaction, thinking he had been fortunate 
 enough to cut Sertorius off from the town ; and 
 he sent a message to the Lauronites, that they 
 might be perfectly easy, and sit quietly upon 
 their walls, while they saw him besiege Serto- 
 rius. But when that general was informed of 
 it, he only laughed, and said, “ I will teach that 
 scholar of Sylla” (so in ridicule he called Pom- 
 pey), “that a general ought to look behind him, 
 rather than before him.” At the same time he 
 showed the besieged a body of 6000 foot in the 
 camp which he had quitted in order to seize the 
 hill, and which had been left there on purpose 
 to take Pompey in the rear, when he should 
 come to attack Sertorius in the post he now 
 occupied. ' 
 
 Pompey, not discovering this manoeuvre till 
 it was too late, did not dare to begin the attack, 
 lest he should be surrounded. And yet he was 
 ashamed to leave the Lauronites in such extreme 
 danger. The consequence was, that he was 
 obliged to sit still and see the town lost. The 
 people, in despair of assistance, surrendered to 
 Sertorius, who was pleased to spare the inhabi- 
 tants, and let them go free ; but he laid their 
 city in ashes. This was not done out of anger, 
 or a spirit of cruelty (for he seems to have in- 
 indulged his resentment less than any other 
 general whatever), but to put the admirers of 
 Pompey to the blush ; while it was said among 
 the barbarians, that though he was at hand, and 
 almost warmed himself at the flame, he suffered 
 his allies to perish. 
 
 It is true, Sertorius received many checks in 
 the course of the war ; but it was not where he 
 acted in person ; for he ever continued invin- 
 cible ; it was through his lieutenants. And such 
 was his manner of rectifying the mistakes, that 
 he met with more applause than his adversaries 
 in the midst of their success. Instances of 
 which we have in the battle of Sucro with 
 
 * A city of Hither Spain, five leagues from 
 Valencia. 
 
SERTORIUS, 
 
 Pompey, and in that of Tuttia* with both 
 Pompey and Metellus. 
 
 As to the battle of Sucro, we are told it was 
 fought the sooner, because Pompey hastened it, 
 to prevent Metellus from having a share in the 
 victory. This was the very thing Sertorius 
 wanted, to try his strength with Pompey, before 
 Metellus joined him. Sertorius came up and 
 engaged him in the evening. This he did out 
 of choice, in the persuasion that the enemy, not 
 being acquainted with the country, would find 
 darkness a hindrance to them, whether they 
 should have occasion to fly or to pursue. When 
 they came to charge, he found that he had not 
 to do with Pompey, as he could have wished, 
 but that Afranius commanded the enemy’s left 
 wing, opposite to him, who was at the head of 
 his own right wing. However, as soon as he 
 understood that his left gave way to the vigorous 
 impressions of Pompey, he put his right under 
 the direction of other officers, and hastened to 
 support that which had the disadvantage. By 
 rallying the fugitives, and encouraging those 
 who kept their ground, he forced Pompey to fly 
 in great confusion, who before was pursuing : 
 nay, that general was in the greatest danger ; 
 he was wounded, and got off with difficulty. 
 For the Africans, who fought under the banners 
 of Sertorius, having taken Pompey’s horse, 
 adorned with gold and other rich furniture, left 
 the pursuit, to quarrel about dividing the spoil. 
 In the mean time, when Sertorius was flown 
 from his right wing to succour the other in 
 distress, Afranius overthrew all before him, and 
 closely pursuing the fugitives, entered their 
 camp with them, which he pillaged till it was 
 dark ; he knew nothing of Pompey’s defeat, and 
 was unable to keep the soldiers from plundering, 
 if he had desired it. At this instant Sertorius 
 returns with the laurels he had won, falls upon 
 the troops of Afranius, which were scattered up 
 and down the camp, and destroys great numbers 
 of them._ Next morning he armed*, and took the 
 field again ; but perceiving that Metellus was at 
 hand, he drew off and decamped. He did it, 
 however, with an air of gaiety: *‘If the old 
 woman,” said he, “ had not been here, I would 
 have flogged the boy well, and sent him back to 
 Rome.” 
 
 He was, notwithstanding, much afflicted for 
 the loss_ of his hind. For she was an excellent 
 engine in the management of the barbarians, 
 who now wanted encouragement more than ever. 
 By good fortune some of his soldiers, as they 
 were strolling one night about the country, met 
 with her, and knowing her by the colour, brought 
 her to him. Sertorius, happy to find her again, 
 promised the soldiers large sums, on condition 
 they would not mention the affair. He carefully 
 concealed the hind \ and a few days after, ap- 
 peared in public with a cheerful countenance to 
 business, telling the barbarian officers 
 that he had some extraordinary happiness an- 
 nounced to him from heaven in a dream. Then 
 
 J^o^qted the tribunal, for the despatch of 
 such affairs as might come before him. At that 
 instant the hind being let loose near the place 
 
 * Grseyius conjectures, that we should read 
 f the Ti^rius being a river which falls into 
 the Sucro. 
 
 399 
 
 by those who had the charge of her, and seeing 
 Sertorius, ran up with great joy, leaped upon the 
 tribunal, laid her head upon his lap, and licked 
 his right hand, in a manner to which she had 
 long been trained. Sertorius returned her ca- 
 resses with all the tokens of a sincere affection, 
 even to the shedding of tears. The assembly at 
 first looked on with silent astonishment : but 
 afterwards they testified their regard for Ser- 
 torius with the loudest plaudits and acclama- 
 tions, as a person of a superior nature beloved 
 by the gods. With these impressions they con- 
 ducted him to his pavilion, and resumed' all the 
 hopes and spirits with which he could have 
 wished to inspire them. 
 
 He watched the enemy so close in the plains 
 of Sa^untum, that they were in great want of 
 provisions ; and as they were determined at last 
 to go out to forage and collect necessaries, this 
 unavoidably brought on a battle. Great acts of 
 valour were performed on both sides. Mem- 
 mius, the best officer Pompey had, fell in the 
 hottest of the fight. Sertorius carried all before 
 him, and through heaps of the slain made his 
 way towards Metellus, who made great efforts 
 to oppose him, and fought with a vigour above 
 his years, but at last was borne down with the 
 stroke of a spear. All the Romans, who saw or 
 heard of his disaster, resolved not to abandon 
 their general, and from an impulse of shame as 
 well as anger, they turned upon the enemy, and 
 sheltered Metellus with their shields, till others 
 carried him off in safety. Then they charged 
 the Spaniards with great fury, and routed them 
 in their turn. 
 
 As victory had now changed sides, Sertorius, 
 to secure a safe retreat for his troops, as well as 
 convenient time for raising fresh forces, had the 
 art to retire into a city strongly situated upon a 
 mountain. He repaired the walls, and barricaded 
 the gates, as though he thought of nothing less 
 than standing a siege. The enemy, however, 
 were deceived by appearances. They invested 
 the place, and, in the imagination that they 
 should make themselves masters of it without 
 difficulty, took no care to pursue the fugitive 
 barbarians, or to prevent the new levies which 
 the officers of Sertorius were making. These 
 officers he had sent to the towns under his com- 
 mand, with instructions, when they had assembled 
 a sufficient number, to send a messenger to ac- 
 quaint him with it. 
 
 Upon the receipt of such intelligence, he 
 sallied out, and having made his way through 
 the enemy without much trouble, he joined his 
 new-raised troops, and returned with that addi- 
 tional strength. He now cut off the Roman 
 convoys both by sea and land ; at land, by laying 
 ambushes or hemming them in, and, by the 
 rapidity of his motions, meeting them in every 
 quarter : at sea, by guarding the coast with his 
 light piratical vessels. In consequence of this, 
 the Rornans were obliged to separate. Metellus 
 retired into Gaul, and Pompey went and took 
 up his winter quarters in the territories of the 
 Vacceians, where he was greatly distressed for 
 want of money ; insomuch that he informed the 
 senate, he should soon leave the country, if they 
 did not supply him ; for he had already sacrificed 
 his own fortune in the defence of Italy. Indeed, 
 the common discourse was, that Sertorius would 
 be in Italy before Pompey. So far had his 
 
; 400 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 capacity prevailed over the most distinguished 
 and the ablest generals in Rome. 
 
 The opinion which INIetellus had of him, and 
 the dread of his abilities, was evident from a 
 proclamation then published ; in which Metellus 
 offered a reward of loo talents of silver, and 
 20,000 acres of land to any Roman who should 
 take him ; and if that Roman was an exile, he 
 promised he should be restored to his country. 
 Thus he plainly discovered his despair of con- 
 quering his enemy, by the price which he set 
 upon him. When he happened once to defeat 
 him in a pitched battle, he was so elated with 
 the advantage, and thought the event so for- 
 tunate, that he suffered himself to be saluted as 
 Imperator; and the cities received him with 
 sacrifices and every testimony of gratitude to the 
 gods at their altars. Nay, it is said, he received 
 crowns of victory, that he made most magnificent 
 entertainments on the occasion, and wore a 
 triumphal robe. Victories, in effigy, descended 
 in machines, with trophies of gold and garlands 
 in their hands ; and choirs of boys and virgins 
 sung songs in his praise. These circumstances 
 were extremely ridiculous, if he expressed so 
 much joy and such superabundant vanity, while 
 he called Sertorius a fugitive from Sylia, and the 
 poor remains of Garbo’s faction. 
 
 On the other hand, the magnanimity of Ser- 
 torius appeared in every step he took. The 
 patricians, who had been obliged to fly from 
 Rome, and take refuge with him, he called a 
 senate. Out of them he appointed quaestors and 
 lieutenants, and in everything proceeded accord- 
 ing to the laws of his country.' What was of still 
 greater moment, though he made war only with 
 the arms, the money, and the men of Spain, he 
 did not suffer the Spaniards to have the least 
 share in any department of government, even in 
 words or titles. He gave them Roman generals 
 and governors ; to make it appear that the liberty 
 of Rome was his great object, and that he did not 
 want to set up the Spaniards against the Romans. 
 In fact, he was a true lover of his country, and his 
 passion to be restored to it was one of the first in 
 his heart. Yet, in his greatest misfortunes, he 
 never departed from his dignity. On the other 
 hand, when he was victorious, he would make an 
 offer to Metellus or Pompey, to lay down his 
 arms, on condition he might be permitted to 
 return in the capacity of a private man. He said 
 he had rather be the meanest citizen in Rome, 
 than an exile with the command of all the other 
 countries in the world. 
 
 This love of his country is said to have been in 
 some measure owing to the attachment he had to 
 his mother. His father died in his infancy, and 
 he had his education wholly from her ; conse- 
 quently his affections centered in her. His 
 Spanish friends wanted to constitute him supreme 
 governor ; but having information at that time of 
 the death of his mother, he gave himself up to 
 the most alarming grief For seven whole days 
 he neither gave the word, nor would be seen by 
 any of his friends. At last, his generals, and 
 others who were upon a footing with him in point 
 of rank, beset his tent, and insisted that he should 
 rise from the ground and make his appearance, 
 to speak to the soldiers, and to take the direction 
 of their affairs, which were then as prosperous as 
 he could desire. Hence many imagined, that he 
 was naturally of a pacific turn, and a lover of 
 
 tranquility, but he was bfought against his in- 
 clination, by some means or other, to take upon 
 him the command ; and that when he was hard 
 pressed by his enemies, and had no other shelter 
 but that of war to fly to, he had recourse to it 
 merely in the way of self-defence. 
 
 VVe cannot have greater proofs of his magna- 
 nimity than those that appear in his treaty with 
 Mithridates. That prince, recovering from the 
 fall given him by Sylia, entered the lists again, 
 and renewed his pretensions to Asia. By this 
 time the fame of Sertorius had extended itself 
 into all parts of the world. The merchants who 
 traded to the west, carried back news of his 
 achievements, like commodities from a distant 
 country, and filled Pontus with his renown. 
 Hereupon Mithridates determined to send an 
 embassy to him; induced to it by the vain 
 speeches of his flatterers, who compared Sertorius 
 to Hannibal, and Mithridates to Pyrrhus, and 
 insisted that the Romans would never be able to 
 bear up against two such powers and two persons 
 of such genius and abilities, when attacked by 
 them in different quarters ; the one being the 
 most excellent of generals, and the other the 
 greatest of kings. 
 
 In pursuance of this scheme, Mithridates sent 
 ambassadors into Spain, with letters to Sertorius, 
 and proposals to be made in conference ; the 
 purport of wh ch was, that the king would supply 
 him with money and ships for the war, on con- 
 dition that he confirmed his claim to Asia, which 
 he had lately given up to the Romans in the 
 treaty with Sylia. 
 
 Sertorius assembled his council, which he called 
 the Senate. They were unanimous in their 
 opinions that he should accept the conditions, 
 and think himself happy in them ; since they 
 were only asked an empty name and title to 
 things which it was not in their power to give, 
 and the king in return would supply them with 
 what they most wanted. But Sertorius would 
 by no means agree to it. He said, he had no 
 objection to that prince’s having Bithynia and 
 Cappadocia, countries accustomed to kingly 
 government, and not belonging to the Romans 
 by any just title ; but as to a province to which 
 the Romans had an undeniable claim ; a province 
 which they had been deprived of by Mithridates, 
 which he afterwards lost to Fimbria, and at last 
 had quitted upon the peace with Sylia, he could 
 never consent that he should be put in possession 
 of it again. “ Rome,” said he, “ought to have 
 her power extended by my victories, and it is not 
 my right to rise to power at her expense. A man 
 who has any dignity of sentiment should conquer 
 with honour, and not use any base means even to 
 save his life.” 
 
 Mithridates was perfectly astonished at this 
 answer, and thus communicated his surprise to 
 his friends : “ What orders would Sertorius give 
 us, when seated in the senate-house at Rome, if 
 now, driven as he is to the coasts of the Atlantic 
 Ocean, he prescribes bounds to our empir., and 
 threatens us with war if we make any attempt 
 upon Asia?” The treaty, however, went on, and 
 was sworn to. Mithridates was to have Cappa- 
 docia and Bithynia, and Sertorius to supply him 
 with a general and some troops ; the king, on the 
 other hand, was to furnish Sertorius with 3000 
 talents, and forty ships of war. 
 
 The general whom Sertorius sent into Asia, 
 
SERTORIUS, 
 
 was a senator who had taken refuge with him, 
 named Marcus Marius. When Mithridates, by 
 his assistance, had taken some cities in Asia, he 
 permitted that officer to enter them with his rods 
 and axes, and voluntarily took the second place 
 as one of his train. Marius declared some of those 
 cities free, and excused others from imposts and 1 
 taxes, telling them they were indebted for these | 
 favours to Sertorius. So that Asia, which laboured j 
 again under the exaction of the Roman tax- I 
 gathers, and the oppressions and insults of the I 
 garrisons, had once more a prospect of some ■ 
 happier mode of government. 
 
 But in Spain, the senators about Sertorius, 
 who looked upon themselves as on a footing with 
 him, no sooner saw themselves as a match for the 
 enemy, than they bade adieu to fear, and gave 
 in to a foolish jealousy and envy of their general. 
 At the head of these was Perpenna, who, elated | 
 with the vanity of birth, aspired to the command, 1 
 and scrupled not to address his partisans in private 
 with such speeches as these : “What evil demon 
 possesses us, and leads us from bad to worse? 
 We, who would not stay at home and submit to 
 the orders of Sylla, who is master both of sea and 
 land, what are we to come to? Did we not come 
 here for liberty? Yet here we are voluntary 
 slaves ; guards to the exiled Sertorius. We’ 
 suffer ourselves to be amused with the title of a 
 senate ; a title despised and ridiculed by all the 
 world. O noble senators, who submit to the most 
 mortifying tasks and labours, as much as the 
 meanest Spaniards and Lusitanians !” 
 
 Numbers were attacked with these and such 
 like discourses ; and though they did not openly 
 revolt, because they dreaded the power of Ser- 
 torius, yet they took private methods to ruin his 
 affairs, by treating the barbarians ill, inflicting 
 heavy punishnaents, and collecting exorbitant 
 subsidies, as if by his order. Hence the cities 
 began to waver in their allegiance, and to raise 
 disturbances ; and the persons sent to compose 
 those disturbances by mild and gentle methods, 
 made more enemies than they reconciled, and 
 inflamed the rising spirit of disobedience : inso- 
 much that Sertorius, departing from his former 
 clemency and modeiation, behaved with great 
 injustice and outrage to the children of the 
 Spaniards in Osca, putting some to death, and 
 selling others for slaves. 
 
 The conspiracy daily gathered strength, and 
 among the rest Perpenna drew in Manlius, * who 
 had a considerable command in the army. . . . 
 He and his partisans then prepared letters for 
 Sertorius, which imported that a victory was 
 gained by one of his officers, and great numbers 
 of the enemy slain. Sertorius offered sacrifice 
 for the good tidings; and Perpenna gave him, 
 and his own friends who were by, and who were 
 all privy to the design, an invitation to supper. 
 
 * Dacier thinks we should read Manins, by 
 which he means Manius AnioniuSf who gave 
 Sertorius the first blow. 
 
 401 
 
 which, with much entreaty, he prevailed upon 
 him to accept. 
 
 The entertainments at which Sertorius was 
 present, had been always attended with great 
 order and decorum ; for he could not bear either 
 to see or hear the least indecency, and he had 
 ever accustomed the guests to divert themselves 
 in an innocent and irreproachable manner. But 
 in the midst of the entertainment, the conspira- 
 tors began to seek occasion to quarrel, giving 
 in to the most dissolute discourse, and pretending 
 drunkenness as the cause of their ribaldry. All 
 this was done to provoke him. However, either 
 vexed at their obscenities and design, or guessing 
 at their designs by the manner of their drawling 
 them out, he changed his posture, and threw him- 
 self back upon his couch, as though he neither 
 heard nor regarded them. Then Perpenna took 
 a cup of wine, and as he was drinking, purposely 
 let it fall out of his hands. The noise it made 
 being the signal for them to fall on, Antony, who 
 sat next to Sertorius, gave him a stroke with his 
 sword. Sertorius turned, and strove to get up ; 
 but Antony throwing himself upon his breast, 
 held both his hands; so that not being able in 
 the least to defend himself, the rest of the con- 
 spirators despatched him with many wounds. 
 
 Upon the first news of his death, most of the 
 Spaniards abandoned Perpenna, and by their 
 deputies surrendered themselves to Pompey and 
 Metellus. Perpenna attempted something with 
 those that remained ; but though he had the use 
 of all that Sertorius had prepared, he made so ill 
 a figure, that it was evident he knew no more 
 how to command than to obey. He gave Pom- 
 pey battle, and was soon routed and taken pri- 
 soner. Nor in this last distress did he behave 
 as became a general. He had the papers of Ser- 
 torius in his possession, and he offered Pompey 
 the sight of original letters from men of consular 
 dignity, and the greatest interest in Rome, by 
 which they invited Sertorius into Italy, in conse- 
 quence of the desire of numbers, who wanted a 
 change in the present state of affairs, and a new 
 administration. 
 
 Pompey, however, behaved not like a young 
 man, but with all the marks of a solid and im- 
 proved understanding, and by his prudence de- 
 livered Rome from a train of dreadful fears and 
 new commotions. He collected all those letters, 
 and the other papers of Sertorius, and burned 
 them, without either reading them himself, or 
 suffering any other person to do it. for Per- 
 penna he put him to death immediately, lest he 
 should mention the names of those who wrote 
 the letters, and thence new seditions and troubles 
 should arise. Perpenna’s accomplices met the 
 same fate ; some of ^hem being brought to Pom- 
 pey, and by him ordered to the block, and others, 1 
 who fled into Africa, shot by the Moors. None I 
 escaped but Aufidius, the rival of Manlius. 
 Whether it was that he could not be found, or 
 they thought him not worth the seeking, he lived ' 
 to old age in a villnge of th; barbarians, wretch- i 
 edly poor, and universally despised. 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 EUMENES. 
 
 DURIS the historian writes, that Eumenes the 
 Cardian was the son of a poor waggoner in the 
 Chersonesus, and yet that he had a liberal edu- 
 cation both as to learning and the exercises then 
 in vogue.* He says that while he was but a 
 lad, Philip happening to be in Cardia, went to 
 spend an hour of leisure in seeing how the young 
 men acquitted themselves in the pancration, t 
 and the boys in wrestling. Among these Eu- 
 menes succeeded so well, and showed so much 
 activity and address, that Philip was pleased 
 with him, and took him into his train. But others 
 assert, with a greater appearance of probability, 
 that Philip preferred him on account of the ties 
 of friendship and hospitality there were between 
 him and the father of Eumenes. 
 
 After the death of Philip, he maintained the 
 reputation of being equal to any of Alexander s 
 officers in capacity, and in the honour with which 
 he discharged his commissions ; and though he 
 had only the title of principal secretary, he was 
 looked upon in as honourable a light as the king’s 
 most intimate friends and counsellors ; insomuch 
 that he had the sole direction of an Indian ex- 
 pedition, and upon the death of Hephaestion, 
 when Perdiccas had the post of that favourite, 
 he succeeded Perdiccas. Therefore, when Neop- 
 tolemus, who had been the principal armour- 
 bearer, took upon him to say, after the death of 
 Alexander, that he had borne the shield and spear 
 of that monarch, and that Eumenes had only 
 followed with his escritoir, the Macedonians only 
 laughed at his vanity; knowing that, besides 
 other marks of honour, Alexander had thought 
 Eumenes not unworthy his alliance. For Bar- 
 sine, the daughter of Artabazus, who was the 
 first lady Alexander took to his bed in Asia, and 
 who brought him a son named Hercules, had 
 two sisters ; one of which, called Apama, he gave 
 to Ptolemy ; and the other, cahed also Barsine, 
 he gave to Eumenes, at the time when he was 
 selecting Persian ladies as wives for his friends. | 
 
 Yet it must be acknowledged, he was often in 
 disgrace with Alexander, and once or twice in 
 danger too, on account of Hephaestion. In the 
 first place, Hephaestion gave a musician named 
 Evius, the quarters which the servants of Eu- 
 menes had taken up for him. Upon this, Eu- 
 
 * There were public schools, where children 
 of all conditions were taught without distinction. 
 
 t The pancration (as we have already ob- 
 served) was a composition of wrestling and 
 boxing. 
 
 I Alexander had married^ Statira, the eldest 
 daughter of Darius, and given the youngest, 
 named Trypetis, to Hephaestion. This was a 
 measure well calculated for establishing him and 
 his posterity on the Persian throne ; but it was 
 obnoxious to the Macedonians. Therefore, to 
 support it on one hand, and to obviate incon- 
 veniences on the other, he selected eighty virgins 
 out of the most honourable families in Persia, 
 and persuaded his principal friends and officers 
 to marry them. 
 
 menes went in great wrath to Alexander with Men- 
 tor,* and cried, that the best method they could 
 take, was to throw away their arms, and learn 
 to play upon the flute, or turn tragedians. Alex- 
 ander at first entered into his quarrel, and sharply 
 rebuked Hephaestion ; but he soon changed his 
 mind, and turned the weight of his displeasure 
 upon Eumenes ; thinking he had behaved with 
 more disrespect to him than resentment against 
 Hephaestion. 
 
 Again ; when Alexander wanted to send out 
 Nearchus with a fleet to explore the coasts of 
 the ocean, he found his treasury low, and asked 
 his friends for a supply. Among the rest he 
 applied to Eumenes for 300 talents, who offered 
 him only 100, and assured him, at the same time, 
 he should find it difficult to collect that sum by 
 his stewards. Alexander refused the offer, but 
 did not remonstrate or complain. However, he 
 ordered his servants privately to set ^e to Eu- 
 menes’s tent, that he might be forced to carry out 
 his money, and be openly convicted of the falsity. 
 It happened that the tent was entirely consumed, 
 and Alexander was sorry on account of the loss 
 of his papers. There was gold and silver found 
 melted, to the amount of more than 1000 talents, 
 yet even then the king took none of it. And 
 having written to all his grandees and lieutenants 
 to send him copies of the despatches that were 
 lost, upon their arrival he put them again under 
 the care of Eumenes. 
 
 Some time after, another dispute happened 
 between him and Hephaestion, on account of 
 some present from the king to one of them. 
 Much severe and abusive language passed be- 
 tween them, yet Alexander,, for the present, did 
 not look upon Eumenes with less regard. But, 
 Hephaestion dying soon after, the king, in his 
 unspeakable affliction for that loss, expressed his 
 resentment against all who he thought envied 
 that favourite while he lived, or rejoiced at his 
 death. Eumenes was one of those whom he 
 most suspected of such sentiments, and he often 
 mentioned the differences, and the severe lan- 
 guage those differences had produced. Eumenes, 
 however, being an artful man, and happy at 
 expedients, made the very person through whom 
 he had lost the king’s favour, the means of 
 regaining it. He seconded the zeal and appli- 
 cation of Alexander to celebrate the memory of 
 Hephaestion. He suggested such instances of 
 veneration as he thought might do most honour 
 to the deceased, and contributed largely and 
 freely, out of his own purse, towards the ex- 
 penses of his funeral. 
 
 Upon the death of Alexander, a great quarrel 
 broke out between the phalanx and the late 
 king’s friends and generals. Eumenes, in his 
 
 * Mentor was brother to Memnon, whose 
 widow Barsine was Alexander’s mistress. He 
 was also brother-in-law to Artabazus ; and the 
 second Barsine, whom Eumenes married, seems 
 to have been daughter to Memnon and Mentor’s 
 sister. 
 
EUMENES. 
 
 403 
 
 heart, sided with the ^halajix, but in appearance 
 stood neuter, as a person perfectly indifferent ; 
 saying, it did not become him, who was a 
 stranger, _ to interfere in the disputes of the 
 Macedonians. And when the other great officers 
 retired from Babylon, he stayed there, endeavour- 
 ing to appease that body of infantry, and to dis- 
 pose them to a reconciliation. 
 
 After these troubles were passed, and the 
 generals met to consult about dividing the pro- 
 vinces and armies among them, the countries 
 assigned Eumenes were Cappadocia and Paphla- 
 gonia, and the coast of the sea of Pontus as 
 far as Trapezus. These countries were not then 
 subject to the Macedonians, for Ariarathes was 
 king o. them ; but Leonatus and Antigonus 
 were to go with a great army, and put Eumenes 
 in possession. Antigonus, now elated with 
 power, and despising all the v/orld, gave no 
 attention to the letters of Perdiccas. But Leo- 
 natus marched down from the upper provinces 
 into Phrygia, and promised to undertake the 
 expedition for Eumenes. Immediately after 
 this. Hecataeus, a petty tyrant in Cardia, ap- 
 plied to Leonatus, and desired him rather to go 
 to the relief of Antipater and the Macedonians, 
 who were besieged in Lamia.* Leonatus, being 
 inclined to go, called Eumenes, and attempted 
 to reconcile him to Hecataeus. They had long 
 had suspicions of each other on account of a 
 family difference in point of politics ; in conse- 
 quence of which Eumenes had once accused 
 Hecataeus of setting himself up tyrant in Cardia, 
 and had entreated Alexander to restore that 
 people to their liberty. He now desired to be 
 excused taking a share in the Grecian expe- 
 dition, alleging he was afraid Antipater, who 
 had long hated him, to gratify himself as well as 
 Hecataeus, would make some attempt upon his 
 life. Upon which, Leonatus, placing an entire 
 confidence in him, opened to him all his heart. 
 He told him- the assisting Antipater was nothing 
 but a pretext, and that he designed, as soon as 
 he landed in Greece, to assert his claim to Mace- 
 donia. At the same time he showed him letters 
 from Cleopatra, t in which she invited him to 
 Pella, and promised to give him her hand. 
 
 Whether Eumenes was really afraid of Anti- 
 pater, or whether he despaired of any service 
 from Leonatus, who was extremely obstinate in 
 his temper, and followed eveiy impulse of a 
 precipitate ambition, he withdrew from him in 
 the night with all his equipage, which consisted 
 of 300 horse, 200 of his domestics w'ell armed, 
 and ail _his treasure, amounting to 5000 talents. 
 With this he fled to Perdiccas ; and as he ac- 
 quainted that general with the secret designs of 
 Leonatus, he was immediately taken into a high 
 degree of favour, and admitted to a share in his 
 councils In a little time, too, Perdiccas in 
 person conducted him into Cappadocia, with a 
 great army ; took Ariarathes prisoner, subdued 
 all the country, and established Eumenes in that 
 government : in consequence of which Eumenes 
 put the cities under the direction of his friends, 
 placed guards and garrisons with proper officers 
 j at their head, and appointed judges and super- 
 intendents of the revenue ; Perdiccas leaving 
 the entire disposition of those things to him. 
 
 * A city of Thessaly, 
 t The sister of Alexander. 
 
 After this he departed with Perdiccas; choosing 
 to_ give him that testimony of respect, and not 
 thinking it consistent with his interest to be 
 absent from his court. But Perdiccas, satisfied 
 that he could himself execute the designs he wms 
 meditating, and perceiving that the provinces he 
 had left behind required an able and faithful 
 guardian, sent back Eumenes when he had 
 reached Cilicia. The pretence was, that he 
 might attend to the concerns of his own govern- 
 ment ; but the real intention, that he should 
 secure the adjoining province of Armenia, which 
 was disturbed by the practices of Neoptolemus. 
 
 Neoptolemus was a man of sanguine pursuits, 
 and unbounded vanity. Eumenes, however, 
 endeavoured to keep him to his duty, by sooth- 
 ing applications. And as he saw the Macedonian 
 infantry were -become extremely insolent and 
 audacious, he applied himself to raising a body 
 of cavalry, which might be a counterpoise against 
 them. For this purpose he remitted the taxes, 
 and gave other immunities to those of his pro- 
 vince who were good horsemen. He also bought 
 a great number of horses, and distributed them 
 among such of his coifrtiers as he placed the 
 greatest confidence in ; exciting them by honours 
 and rewards, pnd training them to strength and 
 skill by a variety of exercises. The Macedonians 
 upon _ this were differently aflected, some with 
 astonishment, and others w'ith joy, to see a body 
 of cavalry collected, to the number of 6300, and 
 trained in so short a space of time. 
 
 About that time Craterusand Antipater, having 
 reduced Greece, passed into Asia, to overthrow 
 the power of Perdiccas ; and news was brought 
 that their first intention was to enter Cappadocia. 
 Perdiccas himself was engaged in war with 
 Ptolemy ; he therefore appointed Eumenes com- 
 mander in chief of the forces in Armenia and 
 Cappadocia ; and wrote to Alcetas and Neopto- 
 lemus to obey the orders of that general, whom 
 he had invested with discretionary powers. 
 Alcetas plainly lefused 10 .submit to that injunc- 
 tio.n ; alleging that the Macedonians would be 
 ashamed to fight Antipater ; and as for Craterus, 
 their affection for him was such that they would 
 receive him with open arms. On the other hand, 
 it was visible that Neoptolemus was forming 
 some treacherous scheme against Eumenes ; for, 
 when called upon, he refused to join him, and, 
 instead of that, prepared to give him battle. 
 
 This was tne first occasion on which Eumenes 
 reaped the fruits of his foresight and timely pre- 
 parations. For, though his infaiilry were beaten, 
 with his cavalry he put Neoptolemus to flight 
 and took his baggage. And while the phalanx 
 were dispersed upon the pursuit, he fell upon 
 them in such good order with his horse, that 
 they were forced to lay down their arms, and 
 take an oath to serve him. Neoptolemus col- 
 lected some of the fugitives, and retired with 
 them to Craterus and Antipater. They had 
 already sent ambassadors to Eumenes, to desire 
 him to adopt their interests, in reward of which 
 they would confirm to him the provinces he had, 
 and give him others, with an additional number 
 of troops ■. in which case he would find Antipater 
 a friend^ instead of an enemy, and continue in 
 friendship with Craterus instead of turning his 
 arms against him. 
 
 Eumenes made answer to these proposals, that 
 having long been on a footing of enmity with 
 
404 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 Antipater, he did not choose to be his friend, at 
 a time when he saw him treating his friends as 
 so many enemies. As for Craterus, he was ready 
 to reconcile him to Perdiccas, and to compromise 
 matters between them upon just and reasonable 
 terms. But if he should begin hostilities, he 
 should support his injured friend while he had an 
 hour to live, and ratlier sacrifice life itself than 
 his honour. . 
 
 When this answer was reported to Antipater 
 and Craterus, they took some time to deliberate 
 upon the measures they should pursue. Mean- 
 while Neoptolemus arriving, gave them an ac- 
 count of the battle be had lost, and requested 
 assistance of them both, but particularly of 
 Craterus. He said the Macedonians had so 
 extraordina-y an attachment to him, that they 
 saw but his hat, or heard one accent^ of his 
 tongue, they would immediately run to him wita 
 their swords in their hands. Indeed, the repu- 
 tation of Craterus was very great among them, 
 and, after the death of Alexander, most of them 
 wished to be under his command. They re- 
 membered the risics he had run of embroiling 
 himself with Alexander. for their sakes ; how he 
 had combated the inclinations for Persian fashions 
 which insensibly grew upon him, and supported 
 the customs of his country against the insults of 
 barbaric pomp and luxury. ^ • 
 
 Craterus now sent Antipater into Cilicia, ana 
 taking a considerable part of the forces himself, 
 marched along with Neoptolemus against Eu- 
 menes. If Eumenes foresaw his coming, and 
 was prepared for it, we may impute it to the 
 vigilance necessary m a general ; we see nothing 
 in that of superior genius. But when, besides 
 his concealing from the enemy what they ought 
 not to discover, he brought his own troops to 
 action, without knowing who was their adv'er- 
 sary, and made them sevre against Craterus, 
 without finding out that he was the officer they 
 had to contend with ; in this we see character- 
 istical proofs of generalship. For he propagated 
 a report, that Neoptolemus, assisted by Pigris, 
 was advancing again with some Cappadocian 
 and Paphlagonian horse. The night he designed 
 to decamp, he fell into a sound sleep, and had a 
 very extraordinary ai earn. He thought he saw 
 two Alexanders prepared to try their strength 
 against each other, and each at the head oi a 
 phalanx. Minerva came to support the one and 
 Ceres the other. A sharp conflict ensued, in 
 which tUe Alexander assisted by Minerva was 
 defeated, and Ceres crowned the victor with a 
 wreath of corn. He immediately concluded 
 that the dream was in his lavour, because he had 
 to fight lor a country which was most of it in 
 tillage, and which had then so excellent a 
 well advanced towards the sickle, that the whole 
 face of it had the appearance of a prolound 
 peace. He was the more confirmea- in his 
 opinion, when he found the enemy’s word was 
 Minei-va a7id Alexander: and in opposition 
 to It he gave Ceres and Alexander, At the 
 same time, he ordei ed his men to crown them- 
 selves, and to cover their arms, with ears of 
 corn. ’ He was several times upon the point oi 
 declaring to his principal officers and captains 
 what adversary they had to contend with , 
 thinking it a hazardous undertaking to keep tc 
 himself a secret so important, and perhaps 
 necessary for them to know. 'Yet he abode bj 
 
 
 his first resolution, and trusted his own heart 
 only with the danger that might ensue. 
 
 When he came to give battle, he would not set 
 any Macedonian to engage Craterus, but ap- 
 pointed to that charge two bodies of foreign 
 horse, commanded by Pharnabazus the son of 
 Artabazus, and Phoenix of Tenedos. They had 
 orders to advance on the first sight of the enemy, 
 and come to close fighting, without giving them 
 time to retire ; and if they attempted to speak 
 or send any herald, they were not to regard it. 
 For he had strong apprehensions that the Mace- 
 donians would go over to Craterus, if they hap- 
 pened to know him. Eumenes himself, with a 
 troop of 300 select horse, went and posted himself 
 in the right wing, where he should have to act 
 against Neoptolemus. When they had passed 
 a little hill that separated the two armies, and 
 came in view, they charged with such impetuosity 
 that Craterus was extremely surprised, and ex- 
 pressed his resentment in strong terms against 
 Neoptolemus, who, he thought, had deceived 
 him with a pretence that the Macedonians would 
 change sides. However, he exhorted his officers 
 to behave like brave men, and stood forward to 
 the encounter. In the first shock, which was 
 very violent, the spears were soon broken, and they 
 were then to decide the dispute with the sword. 
 
 The behaviour of Craterus did no dishonour to 
 Alexander. He killed numbers with his own 
 hand, and overthrew many others who assailed 
 him in front. But -at last he received a side blow 
 from a Thracian, which brought him to the 
 ground. Many passed over him without knowing 
 him , but Gorgias, one of Eumenes’s officers, took 
 notice of him ; and being well acquainted with 
 his person, leaped from his horse and guarded 
 the body. It was then, however, too late ; he 
 was at the last extremity, and in the agonies of 
 
 "^in the mean time, Neoptolemus engaged Eu- 
 menes. The most violent hatred had long sub- 
 sisted between them, and this day added stings 
 to it. They knew not one another iii the two first 
 encounters, but in .the third they did and then 
 they rushed forward impetuously with swords 
 drawn and loud shouts. The shock their horses 
 met with was so violent, that it resembled that 
 of two galleys. The fierce antagonists quitted 
 the bridles, and laid hold on each other | each 
 endeavouring to tear off the helmet or the breast- 
 plate of his enemy. While their hands were thus 
 engaged, their horses went from under them; 
 and as they fell to the ground without quitting 
 their hold, they wrestled for the advantage. Ne- 
 optolemus was beginning to rise first, when Eu- 
 menes wounded him in the ham, and by that 
 means got upon his feet before him. Neopto- 
 lemus being wounded in one knee, .supported 
 himself upon the other, and fought with great 
 courage underneath, but was not able to reach 
 his adversary a mortal blow. At last, receiving 
 a wound in the neck, he grew faint, and stretched 
 himself upon the ground. Eumenes, with all the 
 eagerness of inveterate hatred, hastened to strip 
 ' him of his arms, and loading him with reproaches, 
 ' did not observe that his sword was still in his 
 1 hand ; .so that Neoptolemus wounded him under 
 • the cuirass, where it touches upon the groin. 
 > Flowever, as the stroke was but feeble, the ap- 
 ; prehensions it gave him were greater than the 
 r real hurt. 
 
EUMENES. 
 
 4°S 
 
 When he had despoiled his adversary, weak as 
 he was with the wounds he had received in his 
 legs and arms, he mounted his horse and made 
 up to his left wing, which he supposed might still 
 be engaged with the enemy. There, being in- 
 formed of the fate of Craterus, he hastened to 
 him ; and finding his breath and senses not quite 
 gone, he alighted from his horse, wept over him, 
 and gave h*m his hand. One while he vented 
 his execrations upon Neoptolemus, and another 
 while he lamented his own ill fortune, and ihe 
 cruel necessity he was under of coming to ex- 
 tremities with his most intimate friend, and either 
 giving or receiving the fatal blow. 
 
 Eumenes won this battle about ten days after 
 the former. And it raised him to a high rank of 
 honour, because it brought him the palm both 
 of capacity and courage, but at the same time it 
 exposed him to the envy and hatred both of his 
 allies and his enemies. It seemed hard to them, 
 that a stranger, a foreign adventurer, should 
 have destroyed one of the greatest and most 
 illustrious of the Macedonians with the arms of 
 those very Macedonians. Had the news of the 
 death of Craterus been brought sooner to Perdic- 
 cas, none but he would have swayed the Mace- 
 donian sceptre. But he was slain in a mutiny in 
 Egypt, two days before the news arrived. The 
 Macedonians were so much exasperated against 
 Eumenes upon the late event that they imme- 
 diately decreed his death. Antigonus and Anti- 
 pater were to take the direction of the war which 
 was to carry that decree into execution. Mean- 
 time Eumenes v/ent to the king’s horses which 
 were pasturing upon Mount Ida, and took such 
 as he had occasion for, but gave the keepers a 
 discharge for them. When Antipater was ap- 
 prized of it, he laughed, and said he could not 
 enough admire the caution of Eumenes, v/ho 
 must certainly expect to see the account of the 
 king’s goods and chattels stated either on one 
 side or other. 
 
 Eumenes intended to give battle upon the plains 
 of Lydia near Sardis, both because he was strong 
 in cavalry, and because he was ambitious to 
 show Cleopatra what a respectable force he had. 
 However, at the request of that princess, who 
 was afraid to give Antipater any cause of com- 
 plaint, he marched to the Upper Phrygia, and 
 wintered in Celaense. There Alcetas, Polemon, 
 and Docimus, contended with him for the com- 
 mand ; upon which he said, “ This makes good 
 the observation. Every one thinks of advancing 
 himself, but no one thinks of the danger that 
 may accrue to the public weal.” 
 
 He had promised to pay his army within three 
 days, and as he had not money to do it, he sold 
 them all the farms and castles in the country, 
 together with the people and cattle that were 
 upon them. Every captain of a Macedonian 
 company, or officer who had a command in the 
 ffireign troops, received battering engines from 
 Eumenes ; and when he had taken the castle, 
 he divided the spoil among his company, accord- 
 ing to the arrets due to each particular man. 
 This restored him the affections of the soldiers ; 
 insomuch, that when papers were found in his 
 camp, dispersed by the enemy, in which their 
 generals promised a hundred talents and great 
 should kill Eumenes, 
 the Macedonians were highly incensed, and gave 
 orders that from that time he should have a body- 
 
 guard of looo officer-men always about him, who 
 should keep watch by turns, and be in wait- 
 ing day and night. There was not a man who 
 refused that charge ; and they were glad to 
 receive from Eumenes the marks of honour which 
 those who were called the king’s friends used to 
 receive from the hands of royalty. For he, too, 
 was empowered to distribute purple hats and rich 
 robes, which were considered as the principal 
 gifts the kings of Macedon had to bestow. 
 
 Prosperity gives some appearance of higher 
 sentiments even to persons of mean spirit, and 
 we see something of grandeur and importance 
 about them in the elevation where Fortune has 
 placed them. But he who is insp red by real 
 fortitude and magnai imity, will show it most by 
 the dignity of his behaviour under losses, and 
 in the most adverse fortune. So did Eumenes. 
 When he had lost a battle to Antigonus in the 
 territory of the Orcynians in Cappadocia, through 
 the treachery of one of his officers, though he was 
 forced to fly himself, he did not suffer the traitor 
 to escape to the enemy, but took him and hanged 
 him upon the spot. In his flight he took a 
 different way from the pursuers, and privately 
 turned round in such a manner, as to regain 
 the field of battle. There he encamped, in order 
 to bury the dead ; whom he collected, and burned 
 with the door posts of the neighbouring villages. 
 The bodies o; the officers and common soldiers 
 were burned upon separate piles ; and when he 
 had raised great monuments of earth over them, 
 he decamped. So that Antigonus coming that 
 way afterwards, was astonish^ed at his firmness 
 and intrepidity 
 
 Another time he fell in with the baggage of 
 Antigonus, and could easily have taken it, to- 
 gether with many persons of free condition, a 
 great number of slaves, and all the wealth which 
 had been amassed in so many wars, a d the 
 plunder^of so many countries. But he was afraid 
 that his men, when possessed of such riches and 
 spoils, would think themselves too heavy for 
 flight, and be too effeminate to bear the hard- 
 ships of long wandering from place to place : and 
 yet time, he knew, was his principal resource for 
 getting clear of Antigonus. On the other hand, 
 he was sensible it would be extremely difficult to 
 keep the Macedonians from flying upon the spoil, 
 when it was so much within reach. He therefore 
 ordered them to refresh themselves, and (bed 
 their horses, before they attacked the enemy. In 
 the mean time he privately sent a messenger to 
 Menander, who escorted the baggage, to acquaint 
 him, that Eumenes, in consideration of the 
 friendship which had subsisted between them, 
 advised him to provide for his safety, and to 
 retire as fast as possible from the plain, where he 
 might easily be surrounded, to the foot of the 
 neighbouring mountain, where the cavalry could 
 not act, nor any troops fall upon his rear. 
 
 Menander soon perceived his danger, and 
 retired. After which, Eumenes sent out his 
 scouts in the presence of all the soldiers, and 
 commanded the latter to arm and bridle their 
 horses, in order for the attack. The scouts 
 brought back an account that Menander had 
 gained a situation where he could not be taken. 
 Hereupon Eumenes pretended great concern, and 
 drew off his forces. We are told, that upon the 
 report Menander made of this affair to Anti- 
 gonus, the Macedonians launched out in the 
 
4o6 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 praises VDf Eumenes, and began to regard him 
 with an eye of kindness, for acting so generous a 
 part, when it was in his power to have enslaved 
 their children and dishonoured their wives. The 
 answer Antigonus gave them was this: “Think 
 not, my good friends, it was for your sakes he let 
 them go ; it was for his own. He did not choose 
 to have so many shackles upon him, when he 
 designed to fly.” 
 
 After this, Eumenes being forced to wander 
 and fly from place to place, spoke to many of his 
 soldiers to leave him ; either out of care for their 
 safety, or because he did not choose to have a 
 body of men after him, who were too few to 
 stand a battle, and too many to fly in privacy. 
 And when he retired to the castle of Nora,* on 
 the confines of Lycaonia and Cappadocia, with 
 only 500 horse and 200 foot, there again he gave 
 all such of his friends free leave to depart as did 
 not like the inconveniences of the place and the 
 meanness of diet,! and dismissed them with 
 great marks of kindness. 
 
 In a little time Antigonus came up, and, before 
 he formed that siege, invited him to a conference. 
 Eumenes answered, Antigonus had many friends 
 and generals to take his place, in case of acci- 
 dents to himself ; but the troops he had the care 
 of had none to command or to protect them after 
 him. He therefore _ insisted that Antigonus 
 should send hostages, if he wanted to treat with 
 him in person. And when Antigonus wanted him 
 to make his application to him first, as the greater 
 man, he said, ‘ ‘ While I am master of my sword, 
 I shall never think any man greater than my- 
 self.” At last Antigonus sent his nephew Pto- 
 lemy into the fort as a hostage, and then Eumenes 
 came out to him. They embraced with great 
 tokens of cordiality, having formerly been inti- 
 mate friends and companions. 
 
 ^ In the conference, which lasted a considerable 
 time, Eumenes made no mention of security for 
 his own life, or of an amnesty for what was 
 passed. Instead of that, he insisted on having 
 the government of his provinces confirmed to 
 him, and_ considerable rewards for his services 
 besides ; insomuch that all who attended on this 
 occasion, admired his firmness, and were aston- 
 ished at his greatness of mind. 
 
 During the interview, numbers of the Macedo- 
 nians ran to see Eumenes ; for, after the death of 
 Craterus, no man was so much talked of in the 
 army as he. But Antigonus, fearing they should 
 offer him some violence, called to them to keep 
 at a distance ; and when they still kept crowding 
 in, ordered them to be driven off with stones. 
 At last he took him in his arms, and keeping off 
 the multitude with his guards, with some diffi- 
 culty got him safe again into the castle. 
 
 As the treaty ended in nothing, Antigonus 
 drew a line of circumvallation round the place, 
 and having left a sufficient number of troops to 
 carry on the siege, he retired. The fort was 
 abundantly provided with com, water, and salt, 
 but in want of everything else requisite for the 
 table. Yet with this mean provision he furnished 
 out a cheerful entertainment for his friends, 
 whom he invited in their turns ; for he took care 
 to season his provisions with agreeable discourse 
 and the utmost cordiality. His appearance was, 
 
 * was only 250 paces in circumference. 
 
 t A hundred left him upon this offer. 
 
 indeed, very engaging. His countenance had 
 nothing of a ferocious or war-worn turn, but was 
 smooth and elegant ; and the proportion of his 
 limbs was so excellent that they might seem to 
 have come from the chisel of the statuary. And 
 though he was not very eloquent, he had a soft 
 and persuasive way of speaking, as we may con- 
 clude from his epistles. 
 
 He observed, that the greatest inconvenience 
 to the garrison was the narrowness of the space 
 in which they were confined, enclosed as it was 
 with small houses, and the whole of it not more 
 than two furlongs in circuit ; so that they were 
 forced to take their food without exercise, and 
 their horses to^ do the same. To remove the 
 languor which is the consequence of that want, 
 as well as to prepare them for flight, if occasion 
 should offer, he assigned a room fourteen cubits 
 long, the largest in all the fort, for the men to 
 walk in, and gave them orders gradually to mend 
 their pace. As for the horses, he tied them to the 
 roof of the stable with strong halters. Then he 
 raised their heads and fore parts by a pulley, till 
 they could scarce touch the ground with their 
 fore feet,^ but, at the same time, they stood firm 
 upon their hind feet. In this posture the grooms 
 lied them with the whip and the voice ; and the 
 orses, thus irritated, bounded furiously on their 
 hind feet, or strained to set their fore feet on the 
 ground ; by which efforts their whole body was 
 exercised, till they were out of breath and in a 
 foam. After this exercise, which was no bad one 
 either for speed or strength, they had their barley 
 given them boiled, that they might sooner de- 
 spatch, and better digest it. 
 
 As the siege was di*awn out to a considerable 
 length, Antigonus received information of the 
 death of Antipater in Macedonia, and of the 
 troubles that prevailed there through the ani- 
 mosities between Cassander and JPolyperchon. 
 He now bade adieu to all inferior prospects, and 
 grasped the whole empire in his schemes : in con- 
 sequence of which he wanted to make Eumenes 
 his friend, and bring him to co-operate in the 
 execution of his plan. For this purpose he sent 
 to him Hieronymus,* with proposals of peace, on 
 condition he took the oath that was offered to 
 him. Eumenes made a correction in the oath, 
 and left it to the Macedonians before the place to 
 judge which_ form was the most reasonable. 
 Indeed, Antigonus, to save appearances, had 
 slightly mentioned the royal family in the begin- 
 ning, and all the rest ran in his own name. 
 Eumenes, therefore, put Olympias and the princes 
 of the blood first : and he proposed to engage 
 himself by oath of fealty not to Antigonus only, 
 but to Olympias, and the princes her children. 
 This appearing to the Macedonians much more 
 consistent with justice than the other, they per- 
 mitted Eumenes to take it, and then raised the 
 siege. ^ They likewise sent this oath to Antigonus, 
 requiring him to take it on the other part. 
 
 Meantime Eumenes restored to the Cappa- 
 docians all the hostages he had in Nora, and in 
 return they furnished him with horses, beasts of 
 burden, and tents. He also collected great part 
 of his soldiers who had dispersed themselves after 
 
 * Hieronymus was of Cardia, and therefore a 
 countryman of Eumenes. He wrote the history 
 of those princes who divided Alexander’s do- 
 minions among them, and of their successors. 
 
EUMENES, 
 
 407 
 
 his defeat, and were straggling about the country. 
 By this means he assembled near 1000 horse,* 
 with which he marched off as fast as possible ; 
 rightly judging he had much to fear from Anti- 
 gonus. For that general not only ordered him to 
 be besieged again, and shut up with a circular 
 wall, but, in his letters, expressed great resent- 
 ment against the Macedonians for admitting the 
 correction of the oath. 
 
 While Eumenes was flying from place to place, 
 he received letters from Macedonia, in which the 
 people declared their apprehensions of the grow- 
 ing power of Antigonus ; and others from Olym- 
 pias, wherein she invited him to come and take 
 upon him the tuition and care of Alexander's son, 
 whose life she conceived to be in danger. At the 
 same time, Polyperchon and king Philip sent him 
 orders to carry on the war against Antigonus with 
 the forces in Cappadocia, They empowered him 
 also to take 500 talents out of the royal treasure 
 at Quinda,*f for the re-establishment of his own 
 affairs, and as much more as he should judge 
 necessary for the purposes of the war. Antigenes 
 and Teutamus too, who commanded th.Q Argyras- 
 pides, had directions to support him. 
 
 These officers, in appearance, gave Eumenes a 
 kind reception, but it was not difficult to discover 
 the envy and jealousy they had in their hearts, 
 and how much they disdained to act under him. 
 Their envy he endeavoured to remove, by not 
 taking the money, which he told them he did not 
 want. To remove their obstinacy and ambition 
 for the first place, was not so easy an affair ; 
 for, though they knew not how to command, they 
 were resolved not to obey. In this case he called 
 in the assistance of superstition. He said, Alex- 
 ander had appeared^ to him in a dream, and 
 showed him a pavilion with royal furniture, and 
 a throne in the middle of it, after which that 
 prince declared, if they would hold their 
 councils, and despatch business there, he would 
 be with them, and prosper every measure and 
 action which commenced under his auspices. J 
 
 He easily persuaded Antigenes and Teutamus 
 to believe he had this vision. They were not 
 willing to wait upon him, nor did he choose to 
 dishonour his commission by going to them. 
 They prepared, therefore, a royal pavilion, and a 
 throne in it, which they called the throne of 
 Alexander ; and thither they repaired to consult 
 upon the most important affairs. 
 
 ^ From thence they marched to the higher pro- 
 vinces, and, upon the way, were joined by Peu- 
 cestas, a friend of Eumenes, and other governors 
 of provinces. Thus the Macedonians were 
 greatly strengthened, both in point of numbers, 
 and in the most magnificent provision of all the 
 requisites of war. But power and affluence had 
 rendered these governors so intractable in society, 
 
 * Diodorus Siculus says 2000. 
 
 t In Cana. 
 
 t In consequence of this, according to Dio- 
 dorus, Eumenes proposed to take a sum out of 
 ^sasury, sufficient for making a throne of 
 gold ; to place upon that throne the diadem, the 
 sceptre, and crown, and all the other ensigns of 
 royalty belonging to that prince ; that every 
 mornmg a sacrifice should be offered h:m by all 
 the officers ; and that all orders should be issued 
 in his nanie. A stroke of policy suitable to the 
 genius of Eumenes. 
 
 and so dissolute in their way of living, since the 
 death of Alexander, and they came together with 
 a spirit of despotism so nursed by barbaric pride, 
 that they soon became obnoxious to each other, 
 and no sort of harmony could sub.sist between 
 them. Besides, they flattered the Macedonians 
 without any regard to decorum, and supplied 
 them vvith money in such a manner, for their 
 entertainments and sacrifices, that, in a little 
 time, their camp looked like a place of public 
 reception for every scene of intemperance ; and 
 those veterans were to be courted for military 
 appointrnents, as the people are for their votes in 
 a republic. 
 
 Eumenes soon perceived that the new arrived 
 grandees despised each other, but were afraid of 
 him, and watched an opportunity to kill him. He 
 therefore pretended he was in want of money, 
 and borrowed large sums of those that hated him 
 most,* in order that they might place some con- 
 fidence in him, or at least might give up their 
 designs upon his life, out of regard to the money 
 lent him. Thus he found guards for himself, in 
 the opulence of others ; and, though men in 
 general seek to save their lives by giving, he 
 provided for his safety by receiving. 
 
 While no danger was near, the Macedonians 
 took bribes of all who wanted to corrupt them, 
 and, like a kind of guards, daily attended the 
 gates of those that affected the command. But, 
 when Antigonus came and encamped over against 
 them, and affairs called for a real general, 
 Eumenes was applied to, not only by the soldiers, 
 but the very grandees who had taken so much 
 state upon them in time of peace and pleasure, 
 freely gave place to him, and took the post 
 assigned them without murmuring. Indeed, 
 when Antigonus attempted to pass the river 
 Pasitigris, not one of the other officers who were 
 appointed to guard it, got any intelligence of his 
 motions : Eumenes alone was at hand to oppose 
 him ; and he did it so effectually, that he filled 
 the channel with dead bodies, and made 4000 
 prisoners. 
 
 The behaviour of the Macedonians, when Eu- 
 menes happened to be sick, still more particu- 
 larly showed, that they thought others fit to 
 direct in magnificent entertainments, and the 
 solemnities of peace, but that he was the only 
 person among them fit to lead an army. For 
 Peucestas having feasted them in a sumptuous 
 manner in Persia, and given each man a sheep 
 for sacrifice, hoped to be indulged with the com- 
 mand. A few days after, as they were marching 
 against the enemy, Eumenes was so dangerously 
 ill, that he was forced to be carried in a litter, at 
 some distance from the ranks, lest his rest, which 
 was very precarious, should be disturbed with 
 the noise. They had not gone far, before the 
 enemy suddenly made their appearance, for 
 they had pas.sed the intermediate hill, and were 
 now descending into the plain. The lustre of 
 their golden armour glittering in the sun, as they 
 marched down the hill, the elephants with the 
 towers on their backs, and the purple vests which 
 the cavalry used to wear when they were ad- 
 vancing to the combat, struck the troops that were 
 to oppose them with such surprise that the front 
 halted, and called out for Eumenes ; declaring 
 that they would not move a step farther, if he 
 
 * Four hundred thousand crowns. 
 
4 o 8 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 had not the direction of them. At the same 
 time they grounded their arms, exhorting each 
 other to stop, and insisted that their officers 
 should not hazard an engagement without Eu- 
 menes. 
 
 Eumenes no sooner heard this, than he ad- 
 vanced with the utmost expedition, hastening the 
 slaves that carried the litter. He likewise opened 
 the curtains, and stretched out his hand, in token 
 of his joy. On the first sight of the general of 
 their heart, the troops saluted him in the Mace- 
 donian language, clanked their arms, and, with 
 loud shouts, challenged the enemy to advance, 
 thinking themselves invincible while he was at 
 their head. 
 
 Antigonus having learned from some prisoners, 
 that Eumenes was so extremely ill that he was 
 forced to be carried in a litter, concluded he 
 should find no great difficulty in beating the other 
 generals ; and, therefore, hastened to the attack. 
 But when he came to reconnoitre the enemy’s 
 army, and saw in what excellent order it was 
 drawn up, he stood still some tirne, in silent 
 admiration. At last, spying the litter carried 
 about from one wing to the other, he^ laughed 
 out aloud, as his manner was, and said to his 
 friends, “ Yon litter is the thing that pitches the 
 battle against us.” After this he immediately 
 retreated to his intrenchments.* 
 
 * There are some particulars in Diodorus which 
 deserve to be inserted here. After the two 
 armies were separated, without coming to action, 
 they encamped about three furlongs’, distance 
 from each other ; and Antigonus, soon finding 
 the country where he lay so much exhausted that 
 it would be very difficult for him to subsist, sent 
 deputies to the confederate army, to solicit them, 
 especially the governors of provinces, and the old 
 Macedonian corps, to desert Eumenes, and to 
 join him ; which, at this time, they rejected with 
 the highest indignation. After the deputies were 
 dismissed, Eumenes came into the assembly, and 
 delivered himself in the following fable. A lion 
 
 once falling in love with a young damsel, de- 
 manded her in marriage of her father. The father 
 made answer, that he looked on such an alliance 
 as a great honour to his family, but stood in fear 
 of his claws and teeth, lest, upon any trifling 
 dispute, that might happen between them after 
 marriage, he might exercise them a little too 
 hastily upon his daughter. To remove this objec- 
 tion, the amorous lion caused both his nails and 
 teeth to be drawn immediately ; whereupon, Ae 
 father took a cudgel, and soon got rid of his 
 enemy. This, ” continued he, “ is the very thing 
 aimed at by Antigonus, who is liberal in premises, 
 till he has made himself master of your forces, 
 and then beware of his teeth and paws. A ffiw 
 days after this, Eumenes having intelligence that 
 Antigonus intended to decamp in the night, 
 presently guessed that his design was to seek 
 quarters of refreshment for his army in the rich 
 district of Gabene. To prevent this, and at the 
 same time to gam a passage into that country, he 
 instructed some soldiers to pretend they were 
 deserters, and sent them into the camp of 
 Antigonus, where they reported that Eumenes 
 intended to attack him in his trenches that very 
 
 ! night. But, while Antigonus’s troops were under 
 
 I .arms, Eumenes marched for Gabene, which, at 
 
 j length, Antigonus suspected ; and having given 
 
 The Macedonians had hardly recovered them- 
 selves from their fears, before they began to 
 behave again in a disorderly and mutinous 
 manner to their officers, and spread themselves 
 over almost all the provinces of Gabene for winter 
 quarters ; insomuch that the first were at the 
 distance of looo furlongs from the last. Anti- 
 gonus, being informed of this circumstance, 
 moved back against them, without losing a 
 moment’s time. He took a rugged road, that 
 afforded no water, because it was the shortest : 
 hoping, if he fell upon them while thus dispersed, 
 that it would be impossible for their officers to 
 assemble them. 
 
 However, as soon as he had entered that 
 desolate country, his troops were attacked with 
 such violent winds, and severe frosts, that it wa.s 
 difficult for them to proceed ; and they found it 
 necessary to light many fires. For this reason 
 their march could not be concealed. The bar- 
 barians, who inhabited the mountains that over- 
 looked the desert, wondering what such a number 
 of fires could mean, sent some persons upon 
 dromedaries to Peucestas, with an account of 
 them. 
 
 Peucestas, distracted with terror at this news, 
 prepared for flight, intending to take with him 
 such troops as he could collect on the way. _ But 
 Eumenes soon dispelled their fears and uneasiness, 
 by promising so to impede the enemy s march, 
 that they would arrive three days later than they 
 were expected. Finding that they listened to 
 him, he sent orders to the officers to draw all the 
 troops from the quarters, and assemble them 
 with speed. At the same time he took his horse, 
 and went with his colleagues to seek out a lofty 
 piece of ground, which might attract the attention 
 of the troops marching below. Having found 
 one that answered his purpose, he measured it, 
 and caused a number of fires to be lighted at 
 proper intervals, so as to resemble a camp. 
 
 When Antigonus beheld those fires upon the 
 heights, he was in the utmost distress. _ For he 
 thought the enem^’’ were apprized of his intention 
 some time before, and were come to meet him. 
 Not choosing, therefore, with forces so harassed 
 and fatigued with their march, to be obliged to 
 fight troops that were perfectly fresh, and had 
 wintered in agreeable quarters, he left the short 
 road, and led his men through the towns and 
 villages j giving them abundant time to refresh 
 themselves. But when he found that no parties 
 C3.ITIC out to him in his march, which is usual 
 when an enemy is near, and was informed, by the 
 neighbouring inhabitants, that they had seen no 
 troops whatever, nor anything but fires upon the 
 hills, he perceived that Eumenes had outdone 
 him in point of generalship j and this incensed 
 
 proper orders to his foot, marched immediately 
 after him with his cavalry. Early in the morning, 
 from the top of a hill, he discerned Eumenes. with 
 his army below ; and Eumenes, upon sight of the 
 cavalry, concluding that the whole army of Anti- 
 gonus was at hand, faced about, and disposed 
 his troops in order to battle. Thus Eumenes was 
 deceived in his turn ; and as soon as Antigonus s 
 infantry came up, a sharp action lollowed, in 
 which the victory seemed won and lost several 
 times. At last, however, Antigonus had visibly 
 the worst, being forced to withdraw, by long 
 marches, into Media. Diod. Sic. lib. xv'iii. 
 
EUMENES. 409 
 
 him so much that he advanced with a resolution 
 to try his strength in a pitched battle. 
 
 Meantime the greatest part of the forces re- 
 pairing to Eumenes, in admiration of his capacity, 
 desired him to take the sole command. Upon 
 this Antigenes and Teutamus, who were at the 
 head of the Argyraspides^ were so exasperated 
 with envy, that they formed a plot against his 
 life ; and having drawn into it most of the 
 grandees and generals, they consulted upon a 
 proper time and method to take him off. They 
 all agreed to make use of him in the ensuing 
 battle, and to assassinate him immediately after. 
 But Eudamus, master of the elephants, and 
 Phaedimus, privately informed Eumenes of their 
 resolutions ; not out of any kindness or benevo- 
 lent regard, but because they were afraid of 
 losing the money they had lent him. He com- 
 mended them for the honour with which they 
 behaved, and retired to his tent. There he told 
 his friends, that he lived among a herd of savage 
 beasts, and immediately made his will. After 
 which he destroyed all his papers, lest after his 
 death, charges and impeachments should arise 
 against the persons who wrote them, in con- 
 sequence of the secrets discovered there. He 
 then considered, whether he should put the enemy 
 in the way of gaining the victory, or take his 
 flight through Media and Armenia into Cappa- 
 docia ; but he could not fix upon anything while 
 his friends stayed with him. After revolving 
 various expedients in his mind, which was now 
 almost as changeable as his fortune, he drew up 
 the forces and endeavoured to animate the Greeks 
 and the barbarians. On the other hand, the 
 Phalanx and the A rgyraspides bade him be of 
 good courage, assuring him, that the enemy 
 would not stand the encounter. For they were 
 veterans who had served under Philip and Alex- 
 ander, and like so many champions of the ring, 
 had never had a fall to that day. Many of them 
 were seventy years of age, and none less than 
 sixty. So that when they charged the troops of 
 Antigonus, they cried out, “Villains, you fight 
 against your fathers !” Then they fell furiously 
 upon his infantry, and soon routed them. Indeed, 
 none of the battalions could stand the shock, and 
 the most of them were cut in pieces upon the spot. 
 But though Antigonus had such bad success in 
 this quarter, his cavalry were victorious, through 
 the weak and dastardly behaviour of Peucestas, 
 and took all the baggage. Antigonus was a man 
 who had an excellent presence of mind on the 
 most trying occasions, and here the place and the 
 occasion befriended him. It was a plain open 
 country, the soil neither deep nor hard, but, like 
 the sea-shore, covered with a fine dry sand, which 
 the trampling of so many men and horses, during 
 the action, reduced to a small white dust, that, 
 like a cloud of lime, darkened the air, and inter- 
 cepted the prospect ; so that it was easy for 
 Antigonus to take the baggage unperceived. 
 
 After the battle was over, Teutamus sent some 
 of his corps to Antigonus, to desire him to restore 
 the baggage. He told them, he would not only 
 return the A rgyraspides their baggage, but treat 
 them, in all respects, with the greatest kindness, 
 provided they would put Eumenes in his hands. 
 The Argyraspides came into t .at abominable 
 measure, and agreed to deliver up that brave man 
 alive to his enemies. In pursuance of this scheme, 
 they approached him unsuspected, and planted 
 
 themselves about him. Some lamented the loss 
 of their baggage, some desired him to assume 
 the spirit of victory, which he had gained ; others 
 accused the rest of their commanders. Thus 
 watching their opportunity, they fell upon him, 
 took away his sword, and bound his hands behind 
 him with his own girdle. 
 
 Nicanor was sent by Antigonus to receive him 
 But, as they led him through the midst of the 
 Macedonians he desired first to speak to them ; 
 not for any request he had to make, but upon 
 matters of great importance to them. Silence 
 being made, he ascended an eminence, and 
 stretching out his hands, bound as they were, he 
 said : “ What trophy, ye vilest of all the Mace- 
 donians ! what trophy could Antigonus have 
 wished to raise, like this which you are raising, 
 by delivering up your general bound? Was it 
 not base enough to acknowledge yourselves 
 beaten, merely for the sake of your baggage, as if 
 victory dwelt among your goods and chattels, 
 and not upon the points of your swords ; but you 
 must also send your general as a ransom for that 
 baggage ? For my part, though thus led, I am 
 not conquered ; I have beaten the enemy, and 
 am ruined by my fellow-soldiers. But I conjure 
 you by the god of armies,* and the awful deities 
 who preside over oaths, to kill me here with your 
 own hands. If my life be taken by another, the 
 deed will be still yours. Nor will Antigonus 
 complain, if you take the work out of his hands ; 
 for he v/ants not Eumenes alive, but Eumenes 
 dead. If you choose not to be the immediate 
 instruments, loose but one of my hands, and that 
 shall do my business If you will not trust me 
 with a sword, throw me, bound as I am, to wild 
 beasts.^ If you comply with this last request, 
 I acquit you of all guilt with respect to me, and 
 declare you have behaved to your general like 
 the best and honestest of men.” 
 
 The rest of the troops received this speech with 
 sighs and tears, and every expression of sorrow ; 
 but the Argyraspides cried out, “ Lead him on, 
 and attend not to his trifling. For it is no such 
 great matter, if an execrable Chersonesian, who 
 has harassed the Macedonians with infinite wars, 
 have cause to lament his fate ; as it would be, if 
 the best of Alexander’s and Philip’s soldiers should 
 be deprived of the fruit of their labours, and have 
 to beg their bread in their old age. And have not 
 our wives already passed three nights with our 
 enemies ?” So saying they drove him forward. 
 
 Antigonus, fearing some bad consequence from 
 the crowd (for there was not a man left in his 
 camp), sent out ten of his best elephants, and a 
 corps of spearmen, who were Medes and Parthians, 
 to keep them off. He could not bear to have 
 Eumenes brought into his presence, because of 
 the former friendly connections there had been 
 between them. And when those who took the 
 charge of him, asked in what manner he would 
 have him kept, he said, “ So as you would keep 
 an elephant or a lion.” Nevertheless, he soon 
 felt some impressions of pity, and ordered them 
 to take ofl his heavy chains, and allow him a 
 servant who had been accustomed to wait upon 
 him. He likewise permitted such of his friends 
 as desired it to pass whole days with him, and 
 to bring him nece.ssary refreshments. Thus he 
 spent some considerable time in deliberating how 
 
 * Jupiter. 
 
410 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 to dispose of him, and sometimes listened to the f 
 applications and promises of Nearches the Cretan, ' 
 and his own son Demetrius, who made it a point 
 to save him. But all the other officers insisted 
 that he should be put to death, and urged 
 Antigonus to give directions for it. 
 
 One day, we are told, Eumenes asked his 
 keeper, Onomarchus, why Antigonus, now he 
 had got his enemy into his power, did not either 
 immediately despatch him, or generously release 
 him. Onomarchus answered, in a contemptuous 
 manner, that in the battle, and not now, he 
 should have been so ready to meet death. To 
 which Eumenes replied, “ By heavens, 1 was so ! 
 Ask those who ventured to engage me if I was 
 not, I do not know that I met with a better man 
 than myself." “ Well,” said Onomarchus, “now 
 you have found a better man than yourself, why 
 do you not patiently wait his time ? ” 
 
 When Antigonus had resolved upon his death, 
 he gave orders tliat he should have no kind of 
 food. By this means, in two or three days’ time, 
 he began to draw near his end : and then Anti- 
 
 gonus, being obliged to decamp upon some 
 ' sudden emergency, sent in an executioner to 
 despatch him. The body he delivered to his 
 friends, allowing them to burn it honourably, and 
 to collect the ashes into a silver urn, in order to 
 their being sent to his wife and children. 
 
 Thus died Eumenes : and divine justice did 
 not go far to seek instruments of vengeance 
 against the officers * and soldiers who had be- 
 trayed him. Antigonus himself, detesting the 
 Arg-yras/>tdes as impious and savage wretches, 
 ordered Ihyrtius, governor of Arachosia.t under 
 whose directions he put them, to take every 
 method to destroy them ; so that not one of them 
 might return to Macedonia, or set his eyes upon 
 the Grecian sea. 
 
 * Antigenus, commander in chief of the Silver 
 Shields^ was, by order of Antigonus, put in a 
 coffin and buried alive. Eudamus, Celbanus, 
 and many others of the enemies of Eumenes, 
 experienced a like fate, 
 t A province of Parthia, near Bactriana. 
 
 SERTORIUS AND EUMENES COMPARED. 
 
 These are the most remarkable particulars which 
 history has given us concerning Eumenes and 
 Sertorius. And now to come to the comparison. 
 We observe first, that though they were both 
 strangers, aliens, and exiles, they had, to the 
 end of their days, the command of many warlike 
 nations, and great and respectable armies. Ser- 
 torius, indeed, has this advantage, that his 
 fellow-warriors ever freely gave up the command 
 to him on account of his superior merit ; whereas 
 many disputed the post of honour with Eumenes, 
 and it was his actions only that obtained it for 
 him. The officers of Sertorius were ambitious to 
 have him at their head ; but those who acted under 
 Eumenes never had recourse to him, till experi- 
 ence had showed them their own incapacity, and 
 the necessity of employing another. 
 
 The one was a Roman, and commanded the 
 Spaniards and Lusitanians, wffio for many years 
 had been subject to Rome ; the other was a 
 Chersoncsian, and commanded the Macedonians, 
 who had conquered the whole world. It should 
 be considered too, that Sertorius the more easily 
 made his way, tecase he was a senator, and had 
 led armies before ; but Eumenes, with the dis- 
 reputation of having been only a secretary, raised 
 himseif to the first military employments. Nor 
 had Eumenes only fewer advantages, but greater 
 impediments also in the road to honour. Num- 
 bers opposed him openly, and as many formed 
 private designs against his life ; whereas no man 
 ever opposed Sertorius in public, and it was not 
 till towards the last, that a few of his own party 
 entered upon a private scheme to destroy him. 
 The dangers of Sertorius were generally over 
 when he had gained a victory ; and the dangers 
 of Eumenes grew out of his very victories, among 
 tho.se who envied his success. 
 
 Their military performances were equal and 
 similar, but their dispositions were very different. 
 Eumenes loved war, and had a native spirit of 
 coiitention ; Sertorius loved peace and tran- 
 quility. The former might have lived in great 
 
 security and honour, if he would not have stood 
 in the way of the great ; but he rather chose to 
 tread for ever in the uneasy paths of power, 
 though he had to fight every step he took ; the 
 latter would gladly have withdrawn from the 
 tumult of public affairs ; but was forced to con- 
 tinue the war, to defend him.self against his rest- 
 less persecutors. For Antigonus would have 
 taken pleasure in employing Eumenes, if he 
 would have given up the dispute for superiority, 
 and been content with the station next to his ; 
 whereas Poinpey would not grant Sertorius his 
 request to live a private citizen. Hence, the one 
 voluntarily engaged in war, for the sake of 
 gaining the chief command ; the other involun- 
 tarily took the command, because he could not 
 live in peace. Eumenes, there; ore, in his passion 
 for the camp, preferred ambition to safety ; Ser- 
 torius was an able warrior, but employed his 
 talents only for the safety of his person. ' The 
 one was not apprized of his impending fate ; the 
 other expected his every moment. The one had 
 the candid praise of confidence in his friends ; the 
 other incurred the censure of weakness ; for he 
 would have fled, J but could not. ^ The death of 
 Sertorius did no dishonour to his life : he suffered 
 that from his fellow-soldiers which the enemy 
 could not have effected. Eumenes could not 
 avoid his chains, yet after the indignity of chains, § 
 he wanted to live : so that he could neither 
 escape death, nor m^eet it as he ought to have 
 done ; but, by having recourse to mean_ appli- 
 cations and entreaties, put his mind in the 
 power of the man who was only master of his body. 
 
 X Upon notice of the intention of his enemies 
 to destroy him after the battle, he deliberated 
 whether he should give up the victory to Anti- 
 gonus, or retire into Cappadocia. 
 
 § This does not appear from Plutarch’s account 
 of him. He only desired Antigonus either to 
 give immediate orders for his execution, or to 
 show his generosity in releasing him. 
 
( 4II ) 
 
 AGESILAUS. 
 
 ArchidaMUs,* the son of Xeuxidamus, after 
 having governed the Lacedaemonians with a very 
 respectable character, left behind him two sons ; 
 the one named Agis, whom he had by Lampito,f 
 a woman of an illustrious family; the other much 
 younger, named Agesilaus, whom he had by 
 Eupolia, the daughter of Melisippidas. As the 
 crown, by law, was to descend to Agis, Agesilaus 
 had nothing to expect but a private station, and 
 therefore had a common Lacedaemonian educa- 
 tion ; which, though hard in respect of diet, and 
 full of laborious exercises, was well calculated to 
 teach the youth obedience. Hence, Simonides 
 is said to have called that famed city, the man- 
 subduing Sparta, because it was the principal 
 tendency of her discipline to make the citizens 
 obedient and submissive to the laws ; and she 
 trained her youth as the colt is trained to the 
 menage. The law does not lay the young princes 
 who are educated for the throne under the same 
 necessity. But Agesilaus was singular in this, 
 that before he came to govern, he had learned to 
 obey. Hence it was that he accommodated 
 himself with a better grace to his subjects than 
 any other of the kings ; having added to his 
 princely talents and inclinations a humane manner 
 and popular civility. 
 
 While he was yet in one of the classes or 
 societies of boys, Lysander had that honourable 
 attachment to him which the Spartans distinguish 
 with the name of love. He was charmed with 
 his ingenuous modesty. For, though he had a 
 spirit above his companions, an ambition to excel, 
 which made him unwilling to sit down without 
 the prize, and a vigour and impetuosity which 
 could not be conquered or borne down, yet he was 
 equally remarkable for his gentleness, where it 
 was necessary to obey. At the same time, it 
 appeared that his obedience was not owing to 
 fear, but to the principle of honour, and that 
 throughout his whole conduct he dreaded disgrace 
 more than toil. 
 
 He was lame of one leg ; but that defect, 
 during his youth, was covered by the agreeable 
 turn of the rest of his person ; and the easy and 
 cheerful manner in which he bore it, and his being 
 the first to rally himself upon it, always made it 
 the less regarded. Nay, that defect made his 
 spirit of enterprise more remarkable ; for he never 
 declined on that account any undertaking, how- 
 ever difficult or laborious. 
 
 We have no portrait or statue of him. He 
 would not suffer any to be made while he lived, 
 and at his death he utterly forbade it. We are 
 only told, that he was a little man, and that he 
 had not a commanding aspect. But a perpetual 
 vivacity and cheerfulness, attended with a talent 
 for raillery, which was expressed without any 
 severity either of voice or look, made him more 
 agreeable, even in age, than the young and the 
 handsome. Theophrastus tells us, the Ephori 
 
 * Archidamus II. 
 
 t Lampito, or Lampido, was sister to Archi- 
 damus by the father’s side, Vid. Plut. Al- 
 CIBIAD. 
 
 fined Archidamus for marrying a little Woman. 
 “She will bring us,^' said they, “a race of pig- 
 mies, instead of kings.” 
 
 During the reign of Agis, Alcibiades, upon his 
 quitting Sicily, came an exile to Lacedaemon. 
 And he had not been there long, before he was 
 suspected of a criminal commerce with Timasa, 
 the wife of Agis. Agis would not acknowledge 
 the child which she had for his, but said it was 
 the son of Alcibiades. Duris informs us, that 
 the queen was not displeased at the supposition, 
 and that she used to whisper to her women, the 
 child should be called Alcibiades, not Leoty- 
 chidas. He adds, that Alcibiades himself scrupled 
 not to say, he did not approach Timaea to 
 gratify his appetite, but from an ambition to give 
 kings to Sparta. However, he was obliged to 
 fly from Sparta, lest Agis should revenge the 
 injury. And that prince looking upon Leoty- 
 chidas with an eye of suspicion, did not take 
 notice of him as a son. Yet, in his last sickness, 
 Leotychidas prevailed upon him, by his tears and 
 entreaties, to acknowledge him as such before 
 many witnesses. 
 
 Notwithstanding this public declaration, Agis 
 was no sooner dead, than Lysander, who had 
 vanquished the Athenians at sea, and had great 
 power and interest in Sparta, advanced Agesilaus 
 to the throne ; alleging that Leotychidas was a 
 bastard, and consequently had no right to it. 
 Indeed, the generality of the citizens, knowing 
 the virtues of Agesilaus, and that he had been 
 educated with them in all the severity of the 
 Spartan discipline joined with pleasure in the 
 scheme. 
 
 'Ihere was then at Sparta a diviner, named 
 Diopithes, well versed in ancient prophecies, and 
 supposed an able interpreter of everything re- 
 lating to the gods. This man insisted, it was 
 contrary to the divine will, that a lame man 
 should sit on the throne of Sparta ; and on the 
 day the point was to be decided, he publicly read 
 this oracle — 
 
 Beware, proud Sparta, lest a maimed empire * 
 
 Thy boasted strength impair ; far other woes 
 
 Than thou behold’st, await thee — borne away 
 
 By the strong tide of war. 
 
 Lysander observing upon this, that if the 
 Spartans were solicitous to act literally according 
 to the oracle, they ought to beware of Leoty- 
 chidas : for that heaven did not consider it as a 
 matter of importance, if the king happened to 
 have a lame fjot : the thing to be guarded against 
 was the admission of a person who was not a 
 genuine descendant of Hercules ; for that would 
 make the kingdom itself lame. Agesilaus added, 
 that Neptune had borne witness to the bastardy 
 of Leotychidas, in throwing Agis out of his bed 
 
 * The two legs of the Spartan constitution 
 were the two kings, which therefore must be in a 
 maimed and ruined state when one of them was 
 gone. In fact the consequence produced not a 
 just and good monarch, but a tyrant. 
 
412 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 by an earthquake ; * ten months after which, and 
 more, Leotychidas was born ; though Agis did 
 not cohabit with Timsea during that time. 
 
 By these ways and means Agesilaus gained the 
 diadem, and at the same time was put in posses- 
 sion of the private estate of Agis ; Leotychidas 
 being rejected on account of his illegitimacy. 
 Observing, however, that his relations by the 
 mother’s side, though men of rnerit, were very 
 poor, he gave a moiety of the estate among them ; 
 by which means the inheritance procured him 
 respect and honour, instead of envy and aversion. 
 
 Xenophon tells us, that by obedience to the 
 laws of his country, Agesilaus gained so much 
 power, that his will was not disputed. The case 
 was this. The principal authority was then in 
 the hands of the EpJiori and the senate. The 
 Ephori were annual magistrates, and the senators 
 had their office for life. They were both ap- 
 pointed as a barrier against the power of the 
 kings, as we have observed in the life of Lycurgus. 
 The kings, therefore, had an old and hereditary 
 antipathy to them, and perpetual disputes sub- 
 sisted between them. But Lysander took a 
 different course. He gave up all thoughts of 
 opposition and contention, and paid his court to 
 them on every occasion ; taking care, in all his 
 enterprises, to set out under their auspices. If 
 he was called, he went faster than usual : if he 
 was upon his throne, administering justice, he 
 rose up when the Ephori approached : if any one 
 of them was admitted a member of the senate, he 
 sent him a robe and an ox,f as marks of honour. 
 Thus, while he seemed to be adding to the dignity 
 and importance of their body, he was privately 
 increasing his own strength, and the authority of 
 the crown, through their support and attachment. 
 
 In his conduct with respect ' to the other 
 citizens, he behaved better as an enemy than as a 
 friend. If he was severe to his enemies, he was 
 not unjustly so ; his friends he countenanced even 
 in their unjust pursuits. If his enemies per- 
 formed anything extraordinary, he was ashamed 
 not to take honourable notice of it ; his friends he 
 could not correct when they did amiss. On the 
 contrary, it was his pleasure to support them, and 
 go the same lengths they did ; for he thought no 
 service dishonourable which he did in the way of 
 friendship. Nay, if his adversaries fell into any 
 misfortune, he was the first to sympathize with 
 them, and ready to give them his assistance, if 
 they desired it. By these means he gained the 
 hearts of all his people. 
 
 The Ephori saw this, and, in their fear of his 
 increasing power, imposed a fine upon him ; 
 alleging this as the reason, that whereas the 
 citizens ought to be in common, he appropriated 
 them to himself. As the writers upon physics 
 say, that if war and discord were banished the 
 universe, the heavenly bodies would stop their 
 course, and all generation and motion would 
 cease, by reason of that perfect harmony \ so the 
 great Lawgiver infused a spirit of ambition and 
 contention into the Spartan constitution, as an 
 incentive to virtue, and wished always to see 
 some difference and dispute among the good and 
 virtuous. He thought that general complaisance, 
 which leads men to yield to the next proposal, 
 without exploring each other’s intentions, and 
 
 * See Xenophon, Grecian Hist, book iii. 
 
 t Emblems of magistracy and patriotism. 
 
 without debating on the consequences, was an 
 inert principle, and deserved not the name of 
 harmony.* Some imagine that Hom.r saw this ; 
 and that he would not have made Agamemnon 
 rejoice,! when Ulysses and Achilles contended 
 in such opprobrious terms, if he had not expected 
 that some great benefit would arise to their affairs 
 in general, from this particular quarrel among 
 the great. This point, however, cannot be agreed 
 to without some exception ; for violent dissen- 
 sions are pernicious to a state, and productive of 
 the greatest dangers. 
 
 Agesilaus had not long been seated on the 
 throne before accounts were brought from Asia, 
 that the king of Persia was preparing a great 
 fleet to dispossess the Lacedaemonians of their 
 dominion of the sea. Lysander was very de- 
 sirous to be sent again into Asia, that he might 
 support his friends whom he left governors and 
 masters of the cities, and many of whom, having 
 abused their authority to the purposes of violence 
 and injustice, were banished or put to death by 
 the people. He therefore persuaded Agesilaus 
 to enter Asia with his forces, and fix the seat of 
 war at the greatest distance from Greece, before 
 the Persian could have finished Ins preparations. 
 At the same time he instructed his friends in 
 Asia to send deputies to Lacedaemon, to desire 
 Agesilaus might be appointed to that command. 
 
 Agesilaus received their proposals in full as- 
 sembly of the people, and agreed to undertake 
 the war, on condition they would give him thirty 
 Spartans for his officers and counsellors, a select 
 corps of 2000 newly enfranchised HelotSy and 
 6000 of the allies. All this was readily decreed, 
 through the influence of Lysander, and Agesilaus 
 sent out with the thirty Spartans. Lysander 
 was soon at the head of the council, not only on 
 account of his reputation and power, but the 
 friendship of Agesilaus, who thought the pro- 
 curing him this command a greater thing than 
 the raising him to the throne. 
 
 While his forces were assembling at Gersestus, 
 he went with his friends to Auhs ; and passing 
 the night there, he dreamed that a person ad- 
 dressed him in this manner: “You are sensible 
 that, since Agamemnon, none has been appointed 
 captain-general of all Greece, but yourself, the 
 king of Sparta ; and you are the only person 
 who have arrived at that honour. Since, there- 
 fore, you command the sarne people, and go 
 against the same enemies with him, as well as 
 take your departure from the same place, you 
 ought to propitiate the goddess with the same 
 sacrifice, which he offered here before he sailed.’" 
 
 Agesilaus at first thought of the sacrifice of 
 Iphigenia, whom her father offered in obeuience 
 to the soothsayers. This circumstance, however, 
 did not give him any pain. In the morning he 
 related the vision to his friends, and told them 
 he would honour the goddess with what a 
 superior Being might reasonably be supposed 
 to take pleasure in, and not imitate the savage 
 ignorance of his predecessor. In consequence of 
 which, he crowned a hind with flowers, and 
 
 * Upon the same principle, we need not be 
 greatly alarmed at party disputes in our own 
 nation. They will not expire but with liberty. 
 And such ferments are often necessary to throw 
 off vicious humours. ^ 
 
 t Odyssey, lib. viii. 
 
AGES/LA US. 413 
 
 delivered her to her own soothsayer, with orders 
 that he should perform the ceremony, and not 
 the person appointed to that office by the 
 Boeotians. The first magistrates of Boeotia, in- 
 censed at this innovation, sent their officers to 
 insist that Agesilaus should not sacrifice contrary 
 to the laws and customs of Boeotia. And the 
 officers not only gave him such notice, but t^ew 
 the thighs of the victim from the altar. Agesilaus 
 was highly offended at this treatment, and de- 
 parted in great wrath with the Thebans. Nor 
 could he conceive any hopes of success after 
 such an omen ; on the contrary, he concluded 
 his operations would be incomplete, and his ex- 
 pedition not answer the intention. 
 
 When he came to Ephesus, the power and 
 interest of Lysander appeared in a very ob- 
 noxious light. The gates of that minister were 
 continually crowded, and all applications were 
 made to him ; as if Agesilaus had only the name 
 and badges of command, to save the forms of 
 law, and Lysander had in fact the power, and 
 all business were to pass through his hands. 
 Indeed, none of the generals who were sent to 
 Asia, ever had greater sway, or were more 
 dreaded than he ; none ever served their friends 
 more effectually, or humbled their enemies so 
 much. These were things fresh in every one’s 
 memory ; and when they compared also the 
 plain, the mild, and popular behaviour of Age- 
 silaus, with the stern, the short, and authoritative 
 manner of Lysander, they submitted to the latter 
 entirely, and attended to him alone. 
 
 The other Spartans first expressed their re- 
 sentment, because that attention to Lysander 
 made them appear rather as his ministers, than 
 as counsellors to the king. Afterwards Agesilaus 
 himself was piqued at it. For though he had 
 no envy in his nature, or jealousy of honours 
 paid to merit, yet he was ambitious of glory, and 
 firm in asserting his claim to it. Besides, he was 
 apprehensive that if any great action were per- 
 formed, it would be imputed to Lysander, on 
 account of the superior light in which he had 
 still been considered. 
 
 The method he took to obviate it was this. 
 His first step was, to oppose the counsels of 
 Lysander, and to pursue measures different irom 
 those, for which he was most earnest. Another 
 step was to reject the petitions of all who ap- 
 peared to apply to him through the interest of 
 that minister. In matters, too, which were 
 brought before the king in a judicial way, those 
 against whom Lysander exerted himself were 
 sure to gain their cause ; and thejr for whom he 
 appeared could scarce escape without a fine. 
 As these things happened not casually, but con- 
 stantly and of set purpose, Lysander perceived 
 the cause, and concealed it not from his friends. 
 He told them, it was on his account they were 
 disgraced, and desired them to pay their court 
 to the king, and to those who had greater in- 
 terest with him than himself. These proceedings 
 seemed invidious, and intended to depreciate the 
 king : Agesilaus, therefore, to mortify him still 
 more, appointed him his carver : and we are 
 told, he said before a large company, “Now let 
 them go and pay their court to my carver.” 
 Lysander, unable to bear this last instance of 
 contempt, said, “Agesilaus, you know very well 
 how to lessen your friends.” Agesilaus answered, 
 “ I know very well who want to be greater than 
 
 myself.” “ But perhaps,” said Lysander, “that 
 has rather been so represented to you, than at- 
 tempted by me. Place me, however, where I 
 may serve you, without giving you the least 
 umbrage.” Upon this Agesilaus appointed him 
 his lieutenant in the Hellespont, where he per- 
 suaded Spithridates, a Persian, in the province 
 of Pharnabazus to come over to the Greeks, 
 with a considerable treasure, and 200 horse. 
 Yet he retained his resentment, and nourishing 
 the remembrance of the affront he had received, 
 considered how he might deprive the two 
 families of the privilege of giving kings to 
 Sparta,* and open the way to that high station 
 to all the citizens. And it seenis that he would 
 have raised great commotions in pursuit of his 
 revenge, if he had not been killed in this expe- 
 dition into Boeotia. Thus ambitious spirits, 
 when they go beyond certain bounds, do much 
 more harm than good to the community. For ' 
 if Lysander was to blame, as in fact he was, in 
 indulging an unreasonable avidity of honour, 
 Agesilaus might have known other methods to 
 correct the fault of a man of his character and 
 spirit. But, under the influence of the same 
 passion, the one knew not how to pay proper 
 respect to his general, nor the other how to bear 
 the imperfections of his friend. 
 
 At first Tisaphernes was afraid of Agesilaus, 
 and undertook by treaty, that the king would 
 leave the Grecian cities to be governed by their 
 own laws ; but afterwards thinking his strength 
 sufficiently increased, he declared war. This 
 was an event very agreeable to Agesilaus. He 
 hoped great things from this expedition ; f and 
 he considered it as a circumstance which w'ould 
 reflect dishonour upon himself, that Xenophon 
 could conduct 10,000 Greeks from the heart of 
 Asia to the sea, and beat the king of Persia 
 whenever his forces thought proper to engage 
 him ; if he, at the head of the Lacedaemonians, 
 who were masters both at sea and land, could 
 not distinguish himself before the Greeks by 
 some great and memorable stroke. 
 
 To revenge, therefore, the perjury of Tisa- 
 phemes, by an artifice which justice recom- 
 mended, he pretended immediately to march into 
 Caria; and when the barbarian had drawn his 
 forces to that quarter, he turned short and 
 entered Ph^gia. There he^ took many cities; 
 and made himself master of immense treasures ; 
 by which he showed his friends, that to violate 
 a treaty is to despise the gods ; whilst to deceive 
 an enemy is not only just but glorious, and the 
 way to add profit to pleasure ; but, as he was 
 inferior in cavalry, and the liver of the victim 
 appeared without a head, he retired to Ephesus, 
 to raise that sort of troops which he w^anted. 
 The method he took was, to insist that every 
 man of substance, if he did not choose to serv'e 
 in person, should provide a horse and a man. 
 Many accepted the alternative; and, instead of 
 a parcel of indifferent combatants, such as the 
 rich would have made, he soon got a numerous 
 and respectable cavalry. For those who did not 
 
 * The Eurytionidse and the Agidae. 
 
 t He told the Persian ambassadors he was 
 much obliged to their master for the step he had 
 taken, since by the violation of his oath he had 
 made the gods enemies to Persia, and friends to 
 Greece. 
 
choose to serve at all, or not to serve as horse, 
 hired others who wanted neither courage nor 
 inclination. In this he professedly imitated 
 Agamemnon, who for a good mare excused a 
 dastardly rich man the service.* 
 
 One day he ordered his commissaries to sell 
 the prisoners, but to strip them first. Their 
 clothes found many purchasers ; but as to the 
 prisoners themselves, their skins being soft and 
 white, by reason of their having lived so much 
 within doors, the spectators only laughed at 
 them, thinking they would be of no service as 
 slaves. Whereupon Agesilaus, who stood by at 
 the auction, said to his troops, “ These are the 
 persons whom you fight with ; ” and then point- 
 ing to the rich spoils, “Those are the things ye 
 fight for.” 
 
 When the season called him into the field 
 again, he gave it out that Lydia was his object. 
 In this he did not deceive Tisaphernes ; that 
 general deceived himself. For, giving no heed to 
 the declarations of Agesilaus, because he had 
 been imposed upon by them before, he concluded 
 he would now enter Caria, a country not con- 
 venient for cavalry, in which his strength did not 
 lie. Agesilaus, as he had proposed, went and sat 
 down on the plains of Sardis, and Tisaphernes 
 was forced to march thither in great haste with 
 succours. The Persian, as he advanced with his 
 cavalry, cut off a number of the Greeks who were 
 scattered up and down for plunder. Agesilaus, 
 however, considered that the enemy’s infantry 
 could not yet be come up ; whereas he had all his 
 forces about him ; and therefore resolved to give 
 battle immediately. Pursuant to this resolution, 
 he mixed his light-armed foot with the horse, and 
 ordered them to advance swiftly to the charge, 
 while he was bringing up the heavy-armed troops, 
 which would not be far behind. The barbarians 
 were soon put to flight ; the Greeks pursued 
 them, took their camp, and killed great numbers. 
 
 In consequence of this success, they could 
 pillage the king’s country in full security, and 
 had all the satisfaction to see Tisaphernes, a man 
 of abandoned character, and one of the greatest 
 enemies to their name and nation, properly 
 punished. For the king immediately sent 
 Tithraustes against him, who cut off his head. 
 At the same time he desired Agesilaus to grant 
 him peace, promising him large sums,f on con- 
 dition that he would evacuate his dominions. 
 Agesilaus answered, his country was the sole 
 ar bitress of peace. For his own part, he rather 
 
 * Then Menelaus his Podargus brings. 
 
 And the famed courser of the king of kings ; 
 Whom rich Echepolus (more rich than brave) 
 To ’scape the wars to Agamemnon gave 
 (iEthe her name ', at home to end his days. 
 Base wealth preferring to eternal praise. 
 
 Pope, II. xxiii. 
 
 Thus Scipio, when he went to Africa, ordered 
 the Sicilians either to attend him, or to give him 
 horses or men. 
 
 t He promised also to restore the Greek cities 
 in Asia to their liberty, on condition that they 
 paid the established tribute ; and he hoped (he 
 said) that this condescension would persuade 
 Agesilaus to accept the peace, and to return 
 home ; the rather because Tisaphernes, who was 
 guilty of the first breach, was punished as he 
 deserved. 
 
 chose to enrich his soldiers than himself ; and 
 the great honour among the Greeks was to carry 
 home spoils, and not presents, from their enemies. 
 Nevertheless, to gratify Tithraustes, for destroy- 
 ing Tisaphernes, the common enemy of the 
 Greeks, he decamped and retired into Phrygia, 
 taking thirty talents of that viceroy to defray the 
 charges of his march. 
 
 As he was upon the road, he received the 
 scytale from the magistrates of Lacedaemon, 
 which invested him with the command of the 
 navy as well as army ; an honour which that city 
 never granted to any one but himself. He was, 
 indeed, (as Theopompus somewhere says), con- 
 fessedly the greatest and most illustrious man of 
 his time ; yet he placed his dignity rather in his 
 virtue than his power. Notwithstanding, there 
 was this flaw in his character : when he had the 
 conduct of the navy given him, he committed 
 that charge to Pisander, when there were other 
 officers of greater age and abilities at hand. 
 Pisander was his wife’s brother, and, in compli- 
 ment to her, he respected that alliance more than 
 the public good. 
 
 He took up his own quarters in the province of 
 Pharnabazus, where he not only lived in plenty, 
 but raised considerable subsidies. From thence 
 he proceeded to Paphlagonia, and drew Cotys, 
 the king of that country, into his interest, who 
 had been some time desirous of such a con- 
 nection, on account of the virtue and honour 
 which marked his character. Spithridates, who 
 was the first person of consequence that came 
 over from Pharnabazus, accompanied Agesilaus 
 in all his expeditions, and took a share in all his 
 dangers. This Spithridates had a son, a hand- 
 some youth, for whom Agesilaus had a particular 
 regard, and a beautiful daughter in the flower of 
 her age, whom he married to Cotys. Cotys gave 
 him looo horse, and 2000 men draughted from his 
 light-armed troops ; and with these he returned 
 to Phrygia. 
 
 Agesilaus committed great ravages in that 
 province ; but Pharnabazus did not wait to 
 oppose him, or trust his own garrisons. Instead 
 of that, he took his most valuable things with 
 him, and moved from place to place, to avoid a 
 battle. Spithridates, however, watched him so 
 narrowly, that, with the assistance of Herip- 
 pidas * the Spartan, at last he made himseif 
 master of his camp and all his treasures. 
 Herippidas made it his business to examine what 
 pai't of the baggage was secreted, and compelled 
 the barbarians to restore it ; he looked, indeed, 
 with a keen eye into everything. This provoked 
 Spithridates to such a degree, that he immediately 
 marched off with the Paphlagonians to Sardis. 
 
 There was nothing in the whole war that 
 touched Agesilaus more nearly than this. Beside 
 the pain it gave him to think he had lost Spithri- 
 dates, and a considerable body of men with him, 
 he was ashamed.of a mark of avarice and illiberal 
 meanness, from which he had ever studied to 
 keep both himself and his country. These were 
 causes of uneasiness that might be publicly 
 acknowledged ; but he had a private and a more 
 sensible one, in his attachment to the son of 
 
 * Herippidas was at the head of the new 
 council of thirty, sent to Agesilaus the second 
 year of the war. 
 
AGESILAUS. 
 
 , Spithri dares : though while be was with him, he 
 I made a point to combat that attachment. 
 
 I One day Megabates approached to salute him, 
 
 : and Agesilaus declined that mark of his affection. 
 
 The youth, after this, was more distant in his 
 j addresses. Then Agesilaus was scary for the 
 ! repulse he had given him, and pretended to 
 I wonder why Megabates kept at such a distance, 
 i His friends told him, he must blame himself for 
 rejecting his former application, “He would 
 srilJ,” said they, “be glad to pay his most 
 obliging respects to you : but take care you do 
 not reject them again.* Agesilaus was silent 
 some time ; and when he had considered the 
 thing, he said, “ Do not mention it to him. For 
 ' this second victory over myself gives me more 
 pleasure than I should have in turning ail I look 
 upon to gold-** This resolution of his held while 
 , Megabat es was with him ; but he was so much 
 aifected at his departure, that it is hard to say 
 how he would have behaved, if he had found him 
 again. 
 
 After this, Phamabazus desired a conference 
 with him ; and ApoUophanes of Cyzicus, at whose 
 I house they had both been entertained, procured 
 an interview. Agesilaus came first to the place 
 ! appointed, with his friends, and sat down upon 
 the long grass under a shade, to wait for Pharna- 
 bazus- When the Persian grander came, his 
 , servants spread soft skins and beautiful pieces of 
 I tapestry for him ; but upon seeing Agesilaus so 
 seated, be was ashamed to make use of them, and 
 placed himself carelessly upon the grass in the 
 ' same manner, though his robes were delicate, 
 of the finest colours. 
 
 , After mutual salutations, Phamabaros opened 
 the confereaice ; and he had just cause of com- 
 I plaint against the Lacedaemonians, after the 
 . services he had done them in the Aiheniaa w ar, 
 j and their late ravages in his country, Agesilaus 
 . saw the Spartans were at a loss for an answer, 
 
 ; and kept their eyes fixed upon the ground ; for 
 I they knew that Phamabazus was injured. How- 
 ever, the Spartan general found an answer, which 
 ! was as follows : “ \^TiiIe we were friends to the 
 king of Persia, we treated him and his in a 
 friendly manner ; now we are enemies, you ran 
 expect nothing from us but hostilities. Therefore, 
 while you, Prnmabazus, choose to be a vassal 
 to the king, we w'ound him through your sides. 
 Only be a friend and ally to the Greeks, and 
 shake oflf that vassalage, and from thar moment 
 you have a right to consider these battalions, 
 these arms and ships, in short, all that we are or 
 imve, as guy d i arus of your possessions and your 
 liberty ; wuLout which nothing is great or de- 
 sirable among men.*’ * 
 
 Pnamaoazus then explained himself in these 
 ^rms : “If the king sends ano.her lieutenant 
 in my room, I wiil be for you ; but whue he 
 contmues me in the government, I will, to the 
 best of my power, repel force with fbree, and 
 make reprisals upon you for him.** Agesilaus, 
 charmed with tl^ reply, took his hand, and 
 rising up with him, said, “Heaven grant 
 
 “However, if we continue at war, 
 I f<^ die future, avoid your territories as 
 much as possible, and rather forage and raise 
 o.ninOuuons in any other province.** 
 iyrec. tVar. b. it. 
 
 with such sentiments as these, you may be our j 
 j friend, and not our enemy !** 
 
 I As Pnamabazus and his company were going 
 3-way, his son, who was behind, ran up to Agesi- | 
 laus, and said, with a sniilc, “ Sir, I enter with \ 
 
 ' yon into the rites c/ hospitality:" at the same time i 
 
 j he gave him a javelm which he had in his hand. 
 
 I Agesilaus received it ; and, delighted with his \ 
 ' looks and kind regards, looked about for some- 
 j thing handsome to give a youth of his princely 
 ! appearance in return. His secretary Adaeus hap- 
 i pened to have a horse with magnificent furniture 
 j just by, he ordered it to be taken off and given to 
 
 ■ the young man. Nor did he forget him after- 
 I w^ds. In process of time, this Persian was 
 ' driven from his home, by his brothers, and forced 
 i to take refuge in Peloponnesus. Agesilaus then 
 
 took him into his protection, and served him cn 
 all occasions. The Persian had a favourite in 
 the wrestling-ring at Athens, who wanted to be ' 
 introduced at the Olympic games ; but as he was 
 p^t the proper age, they did not choose to admit ! 
 him.* In this case the Persian applied to Agesi- | 
 laus, who, willing to oblige him in this as well as 
 other things, procured the young in;?n the admis- 
 : sion he desir^, though not widiotit much diffi- ! 
 
 ; cuity. , 
 
 Agesila^, i^eed, in other respects, was strictly i 
 
 ■ and inflexibly just ; but where a man’s friends rvere ■ 
 concerned, he thought a rigid regard to justice a 
 mere pretence. _ There is still extant a short letter ■ 
 of his to Hydrieus the Carian, which is a proof 
 
 : of what we Imve said. “ If Nicias is innocent, ^ 
 
 I acquit him : if he is not innocent, acquit him on ■ 
 
 , my account : however, be sure to acquit him.” ’ 
 
 Such was the gener^ character of Agesilaus as ' 
 
 ' a friend. There were, indeed, times when his ' 
 attachments gave way to the exigencies of state. 
 Once being obliged to decamp in a hurry, he ! 
 was living a favourite sick b^ind him . The : 
 favourite called after him, and earnestly entreated i 
 
 ■ him to come back ; upon which be turned and ^ 
 
 I said, “How little consistent are love and pru- | 
 i dence ! ” This particular we have firom Hierony- j 
 i mus the philosopher. 
 
 Ages il a u s had been now two years at the head 
 of the army,_ and was become the general subject 
 of disburse in the upper provinces. His wisdom, 
 his disinterestedness, his moderation, was the 
 theme they dwelt up-nn with pleasure. W.en- 
 ^ ever he made an excursion, he lodged in the 
 : temples most renowned for sanctity : and whereas, 
 
 ; on many occasions, we do not choose that men 
 i should see what we are about, he was desirous 
 to have the gods inspectors and witnesses of his 
 cooduct. Among so many thousands of soldiers 
 as he had, there was scarce one who had a worse ^ 
 or a harder bed than he. He was so fortified | 
 a g ai n st beat and cold that none was so u oil pre- i 
 , pared as himself for whatever seasons the rlimat o 
 should produce. 
 
 The Greeks in Asia never saw a more agreeable 
 siiectacle than when the Persian governors and 
 generals, who had been insufferably elated with 
 power, rolled in riches and luxury, humbly 
 submitting and paying their court to a man in a 
 coar^ cloak, and, upon one laconic word, con- 
 forming to his sentiments, or rather transforming 
 
 I * Sometimes boys had a share in these exhi- 
 ! bitions, who after a certain age were excluded 
 , the lists. 
 
 f 
 
41 6 FLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 themselves into another shape. Many thought 
 that line of Timotheus applicable on this occa- 
 sion — 
 
 Mars is the god ; and Greece reveres not gold. 
 
 All Asia was now ready to revolt from the 
 Persians. Agesilaus brought the cities under 
 excellent regulations, and settled their police, 
 without putting to death or banishing a single 
 subject. After which he resolved to change the 
 seat of war, and to remove it from the Grecian 
 sea to the heart of Persia ; that the king might 
 have to fight for Ecbatana and Susa, instead of 
 sitting at his ease there, to bribe the orators, and 
 hire the states of Greece to destroy each other. 
 But amidst these schemes of his, Epicydidas the 
 Spartan came to acquaint him, that Sparta was 
 involved in a Grecian war, and that the Ephort 
 had sent him orders to come home and defend 
 his own country. 
 
 Unhappy Greeks ! barbarians to each other ! 
 What better name can we give that envy which 
 incited them to conspire and combine for their 
 mutual destruction, at a time when Fortune had 
 taken them upon her wings, and was carrying 
 them against the barbarians ; and yet they clipped 
 her wings with their own hands, and brought 
 the war home to themselves, which was happily 
 removed into a^ foreign country.* I cannot, in- 
 deed, agree with Demaratus of Corinth, when he 
 says, those Greeks fell short of great happiness, 
 who did not live to see Alexander seated on the 
 throne of Darius. But I think the Greeks had 
 just cause for tears, when they considered that 
 they left that to Alexander and the Macedonians, 
 which might have been effected by the generals 
 whom they slew in the fields of Leuctra, Coronea, 
 Corinth, and Arcadia. _ . , 
 
 However, of all the actions of Agesilaus, there 
 is none which had greater propriety, or was a 
 stronger instance of his obedience to the laws and 
 justice to the public, than his immediate return 
 to Sparta. Hannibal, though his affairs were in 
 a desperate condition, and he was almost beaten 
 out of Italy, made a difficulty of obeying the 
 summons of his countiy^men to go and defend 
 them in a war at home. And Alexander inade a 
 jest of the information he received, that Agis had 
 fought a battle with Antipater : he said, ^ it 
 seems, my friends, that while we were conquering 
 Darius here, there was a combat of mice in 
 Arcadia.” How happy then was Sparta m the 
 respect which Agesilaus paid her, and in his 
 reverence for the laws! No sooner was the 
 scytala brought him, though in the midst of 
 his power and good fortune, than he resigned 
 and abandoned his flourishing prospects, sailed 
 home, and left his great work unfinished. Such 
 
 was the regret his friends as well as his allies 
 had for the loss of him, that it was a strong con- 
 futation of the saying of Demostratus the Phma- 
 cian, that the Lacedaemonians excelled in public, 
 and the Athenians in private characters. For, 
 though he had great merit as a king and a 
 general, yet still he was a more desirable friend, 
 and an agreeable companion. 
 
 As the Persian money had the impression of 
 an archer, he said he was driven out of Asia by 
 10,000 of the king’s archers.* For the orat9rs 
 of Athens and Thebes having been bribed with 
 so many pieces of money, had excited their 
 countrymen to take up arms against Sparta. 
 
 When he had crossed the Hellespont, he 
 marched through Thrace without asking leave 
 of any of the barbarians. He only desired to . 
 know of each people, whether they would have 
 him pass as a friend or as an enemy. All the 
 rest received him with tokens of friendship, and 
 showed him all the civilities in their power on 
 his way ; but the Trallians, t of whom Xerxes is 
 said to have bought a passage, demanded of 
 Agesilaus loo talents of silver, and as many 
 women. He answered the messenger ironically, 
 
 “ Why did not they then come to receive them?” 
 
 At the same time he marched forward, and find- 
 ing them drawn up to oppose him, he gave them 
 battle, and routed them with great slaughter. 
 
 He sent some of his people to put the same 
 question to the king of Macedon, who answered, 
 
 “ I will consider of it.” “ Let him consider, 
 said he ; “ in the mean time we march.’ The 
 king, surprised and awed by his spirit, desired 
 him to pass as a friend. , 
 
 The Thessalians were confederates with the 
 enemies of Sparta, and therefore he laid waste 
 their territories. To the city of Larissa, indeed, 
 he offered his friendship, by his ambassadors, 
 Penocles and Scytha : but the people seized them 
 and put them in prison. His troops 'so resented 
 this affront that they would have had him go and 
 lay siege to the place. Agesilaus, however, w'as 
 of another mind. He said he would not lose one 
 of his ambassadors for gaining all Thessaly ; and 
 he afterwards found means to recover them by 
 treaty. Nor are we to wonder that Agesilaus 
 took this step, since, upon news being brought 
 him that a great battle had been fought near 
 Corinth, in which many brave men were suddenly 
 taken off, but that the loss of the Spartans was 
 small in comparison of that of the enemy, he was 
 not elevated in the least. On the contrary, he 
 said, with a deep sigh, “Unhappy Greece 1 why 
 hast thou destroyed so many brave men with 
 thy own hands, who, had they lived, might have 
 conquered all the barbarians in the world ? ” 
 However, as the Pharsalians attacked and 
 harassed him in his march, he engaged them with 
 500 horse, and put them to flight. He was so 
 much pleased with this success, that he erected 
 
 * That corruption which brought the states of 
 Greece to take Persian gold, undoubtedly de- 
 serves censure. Yet we must^ take leave to 
 observe, that the divisions and jealousies which 
 reigned in Greece were the support of its liberties, 
 and that Persia was not conquered till nothing 
 but the shadow of those liberties remained. 
 Were there, indeed, a number of little indepen- 
 dent states which made justice the constant rule 
 of their conduct to each other, and wffiich would 
 be always ready to unite upon any alarm, ftom 
 a formidable enemy, they might preserve their 
 liberties inviolate for ever. 
 
 * Tithraustes sent Timocrates of Rhodes into 
 Greece with fifty talents, which he distributed at 
 Thebes, Argos, and Corinth ; but according to 
 Xenophon, Athens had no share in that distn- 
 
 ^^t^°Beside the Trallians in Lydia, there was a 
 people of that name in Illyricum, upon the con- 
 fines of Thrace and Macedonia. So at least, 
 according to Dacier, Theopompus (ap. bteph.; 
 testifies. 
 
AGESILAUS, 
 
 417 
 
 a trophy under mount Narthaclum; and he 
 valued himself the more upon it, because with so 
 small a number of his own training, he had 
 beaten pecmle who reckoned theirs the best 
 cavalry in Greece. Here Diphridas, one of the 
 Ephori^ met him, and gave him orders to enter 
 Boeotia immediately. And though his intention 
 was to do it afterwards, when he had strengthened 
 his army with some reinforcements, he thought 
 it was not right to disobey the magistrates. He 
 therefore said to those about him, “Now comes 
 the day, for which we were called out of Asia.” 
 At the same time he sent for two cohorts from 
 the army near Corinth. And the Lacedaemo- 
 nians did him the honour to cause proclamation 
 to be made at home, that such of the youth as 
 were inclined to go and assist the king might 
 give in their names. All the young men in 
 Sparta presented themselves for that service ; but 
 the magistrates selected only fifty of the ablest, 
 and sent them. 
 
 Agesilaus, having passed the straits of Ther- 
 mopylae, and traversed Phocis, which was in 
 friendship with the Spartans, entered Boeotia, and 
 encamped upon the plains of Chaeronea. He had 
 scarce intrenched himself, when there happened 
 an eclipse of the sun.* At the same time he 
 received an account that Pisander was deieated 
 at sea, and killed, by Pharnabazus and Conon. 
 He was much afflicted with his own loss, as well 
 as that of the public. Yet, lest his army, which 
 was going to give battle, should be discouraged 
 at the news, he ordered his messengers to give 
 out that Pisander was victorious. Nay, he ap- 
 peared in public with a chaplet of flowers, re- 
 turned solemn thanks for the pretended success, 
 and sent portions of the sacrifice to his friends. 
 
 When he came up to Coronea, t and was in 
 view of the enemy, he drew up his army. The 
 left wing he gave to the Orchomenians, and took 
 the right himself. The Thebans also, putting 
 themselves in order of battle, placed themselves 
 on the right, and the Argives on the left. 
 Xenophon says, that this was the most furious 
 battle in his time ; and he certainly was able to 
 judge, for he fought in it for Agesilaus, with 
 whom he returned from Asia. 
 
 The first charge was neither violent nor lasting ; 
 the Thebans soon routed the Orchomenians, and 
 Agesilaus the Argives. But when both parties 
 were informed that their left wings were broken 
 and ready for flight, both hastened to their relief. 
 At this instant Agesilaus might have secured to 
 himself the victory without any risk, if he would 
 have suffered the Thebans to pass and then have 
 charged them in the rear : I but borne along with 
 his fury, and an ambition to display his valour, 
 he attacked them in front, in the confidence of 
 beating them upon equal terms. They received 
 him, however, with equal vivacity, and great 
 
 * This eclipse happened on the 29th of August, 
 in the third year of the ninety-sixth olympiad, 
 392 years before the Christian era. 
 
 t In the printed text it is Coronea ^ nor have 
 we any various reading. But undoubtedly Chce- 
 ro 7 iea, upon the Cephisus, was the place where 
 the battle was fought : and we must not confound 
 it with the battle of Coronea in Thessaly, fought 
 fifty-three years before. 
 
 J gives another turn to the matter ; 
 
 for with him Agesilaus was never wrong. 
 
 efforts were exerted in all quarters, especially 
 where Agesilaus and his fifty Spartans were 
 engaged. It was a happy circumstance that he 
 had those volunteers, and they could not have 
 come more seasonably. For they fought with 
 the most determined valour, and exposed their 
 persons to the greatest dangers in his defence ; 
 yet they could not prevent his being wounded. 
 He was pierced through his armour in many 
 places with spears and swords ; and though they 
 formed a ring about him, it was with difficulty 
 they brought him off alive, after having killed 
 numbers of the enemy, and left not a few of their 
 own body dead on the spot. At last, finding it 
 impracticable to break the Theban front, they 
 were obliged to have recourse to a manoeuvre 
 which at first they scorned. They opened their 
 ranks, and let the Thebans pass ; after which ob- 
 serving that they marched in a disorderly manner, 
 they made up again, and took them in flank and 
 rear. They could not, however, break them. 
 The Thebans retreated to Helicon, valuing 
 themselves much upon the battle, because their 
 part of the army was a full match for the Lace- 
 daemonians. 
 
 Agesilaus, though he was much weakened by 
 his wounds, would not retire to his tent, till he 
 had been carried through all his battalions, and 
 had seen the dead borne off upon their arms. 
 Meantime he was informed, that a part of the 
 enemy had taken refuge in the temple of the 
 Itonian Minerva, and he gave orders that they 
 should be dismissed in safety. Before this 
 temple stood a trophy, which the Boeotians had 
 formerly erected when, under the conduct of 
 Sparton, they had defeated the Athenians, and 
 killed their general Tolmides.* 
 
 Early next morning, Agesilaus, willing to try 
 whether the Thebans would I'enew the combat, 
 commanded his men to wear garlands, and the 
 music to play, while he reared and adorned a 
 trophy in token of victory. At the same time 
 the enemy applied to him for leave to carry off 
 their dead ; which circumstance confirmed the 
 victory to him. He, therefore, granted them a 
 truce for that purpose, and then caused himself 
 to be carried to Delphi, where they were cele- 
 brating the Pythian games. There he ordered a 
 solemn procession in honour of the god, and con- 
 secrated to him the tenth of the spoils he had 
 taken in Asia. The offering amounted to 100 
 talents. 
 
 Upon his return to Sparta, he was greatly 
 beloved by the citizens, who admired the pecu- 
 liar temperance of his life. For he did not, like 
 other generals, come changed from a foreign 
 country, nor, in fondness for the lashions he had 
 seen there, disdain those of his own. On the con- 
 trary, he showed as much attachment to the 
 Spartan customs as those who had never passed 
 the Eurotas. He changed not his repasts, his 
 baths, the equipage of his wife, the ornaments of 
 his armour, or the furniture of his house. He 
 even let his doors remain, which were so old that 
 they seemed to be those .set up by Aristodemus.f 
 
 ♦ In the battle of Coronea. 
 t Aristodemus, the son of Hercules, and 
 founder of the royal family of Sparta, flourished 
 1100 years before the Christian era ; so that the 
 gates of Agesilaus’s palace, if set up by Aristo- 
 demus, had then stood 708 years. 
 
41 8 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 Xenophon also assures us, t^t his daughter’s 
 carriage was not in the least richer than those of 
 other young ladies. These carriages, called 
 canathra, and made use of by the virgins in 
 their solemn processions, were a kind of wooden 
 chaises, made in the form of griffins, or goat 
 stags. Xenophon has not given us the name of 
 this daughter of Agesilaus : and Dicsearchus is 
 greatly dissatisfied, that neither her name is pre- 
 served, nor that of the mother of Epaminondas. 
 But we find by some Lacedaemonian inscriptions, 
 that the wife of Agesilaus was called Cleora, and 
 his daughters Apolia and Prolyta.* We see also 
 at Lacedaemon the spear he fought with, which 
 differs not from others. 
 
 As he observed that many of the citizens valued 
 themselves upon breeding horses for the Olympic 
 games, he persuaded his sister Cynisca, to make 
 an attempt that way, and to try her fortune in 
 the chariot-race in person. This he did, to show 
 the Greeks that a victory of that kind did not 
 depend upon any extraordinary spirit or abilities, 
 but only upon riches and expense. 
 
 Xenophon, so famed for wisdom, spent much 
 of his time with him, and he treated him with 
 great respect. He also desired him to send for 
 his sons, that they might have the benefit of a 
 Spartan education, by which they would gain the 
 best knowledge in the world, the knowing how to 
 command and how to obey. 
 
 After the death of Lysander, he found out a 
 conspiracy, which that general had formed against 
 him immediately after his return from Asia. And 
 he was inclined to show the public what kind of 
 man Lysander really was, by exposing an oration 
 found among his papers, which had been com- 
 posed for him by Cleon of Halicarnassus, and 
 was to have been delivered by him to the people, 
 in order to facilitate the innovations he was medi- 
 tating in the constitution. But one of the 
 senators having the perusal of it, and finding it 
 a very plausible composition, advised him not to 
 dig Lysander out of his grave, but rather to bury 
 the oration with him. The advice appeared 
 reasonable, and he suppres.sed the paper. 
 
 As for the persons who opposed his measures 
 most, he made no open reprisals upon them ; but 
 he found means to employ them as generals or 
 governors. When invested with power, they 
 soon showed what unworthy and avaricious men 
 they were, and in consequence were called to 
 account for their proceedings. Then he used to 
 assist them in their distress, and labour to get 
 them acquitted ; by which he made them friends 
 and partisans instead of adversaries ; so that at 
 last he had no opposition to contend with. - For 
 his royal colleague Agesipolis,f being the son of 
 an exile, very young, and of a mild and modest 
 disposition, interfered not much in the affairs of 
 government. Agesilaus contrived to maKC him 
 yet more tractable. The two kings, when they 
 were at Sparta, eat at the same table. ^ Agesilaus 
 knew that Agesipolis was open to the impressions 
 of love as well as himself, and therefore con- 
 stantly turned the conversation upon some amiable 
 young person. He even assisted him in his views 
 that way, and brought him at last to fix upon the 
 same favourite with himself. For at Sparta there 
 is nothing criminal in these attachments ; on 
 
 * Eupolia and Proauga. Cod. Vulcob. 
 t Agesipolis was the son of Pausanias. 
 
 the contrary (as we have observed in the life of 
 Lycurgus), such love is productive of the greatest 
 mode.sty and honour, and its characteristic is an 
 ambition to iniprove the object in virtue. 
 
 Agesilaus, thus powerful in Sparta, had the 
 address to get Teleutias, his brother by the 
 mother’s side, appointed admiral. After which, 
 he marched against Corinth * with his land forces, 
 and took the long walls: Teleutias assisted his 
 operations by sea. The Argives, who were then 
 in possession of Corinth, were celebrating the 
 Isthmian Games : and Agesilaus coming upon 
 them as they were engaged in the sacrifice, drove 
 them away, and seized upon all that they had 
 prepared for the festival. The Corinthian exiles 
 who attended him, desired him to undertake the 
 exhibition, as president; but not choosing that, 
 he ordered them to proceed with the solemnity, 
 and stayed to guard them. But when he was 
 gone the Argives celebrated the games over 
 again ; and some who had gained the prize before 
 had the sanie good fortune a second time ; others 
 who were victorious then were now in the list of 
 the vanquished. Lysander took the opportunity 
 to remark how great the cowardice of the Ar- 
 gives must be, who, while they reckoned the 
 presidency at those games so honourable a pri- 
 vilege, did not dare to risk a battle for it. He 
 was, indeed, of opinion, that a moderate regard 
 for this sort of diversion was best, and applied 
 himself to embellish the choirs and public exer- 
 cises of his own country. When he was in 
 Sparta, he honoured them with his presence, and 
 supported them with great zeal and spirit, never 
 missing any of the exercises of the young men 
 or the virgins. As for other entertainments, so 
 much admired by the world, he seemed not even 
 to know them. 
 
 One day Callipedes, who had acquired great 
 reputation among the Greeks as a tragedian, and 
 was universally caressed, approached and paid 
 his respects to him ; after which he mixed with a 
 pompous air in his train, expecting he would take 
 some honourable notice of him. At last he said, 
 “ Do not you know me, sir ? " The king casting 
 his eyes upon him, answered slightly, “Are you 
 not Callipedes the stage-player ? ” Another time, 
 being asked to go to hear a man who mimicked 
 the nightingale to great perfection, he refused, 
 and said, “ I have heard the nightingale herself.” 
 
 Menecrates the physician, having succeeded in 
 some desperate cases, got the surname of Jupiter, 
 And he was so vain of the appellation, that he 
 made use of it in a letter to the king. “Mene- 
 crates Jupiter to king Agesilaus, health.” His 
 answer began thus: “ King Agesilaus to Mene- 
 crates, his senses.” 
 
 While he was in the territories of Corinth, he 
 took the temple of Juno : and as he stood looking 
 upon the soldiers who were carrying off the 
 prisoners and the spoils, ambassadors came from 
 Thebes with proposals for peace. He had ever 
 hated the city ; and now thinking it necessary to 
 
 * There were two expeditions of Agesilaus 
 against Corinth ; Plutarch in this place confounds 
 them ; whereas Xenophon, in his fourth book, 
 has distinguished them very clearly. The enter- 
 prise in which Teleutias assisted did not succeed ; 
 for Iphicrates, the Athenian general, kept Corinth 
 and its territories from feeling the effects of 
 Agesilaus’s resentment.. 
 
AGESILAUS. 
 
 419 
 
 express his contempt for it, he pretended not 
 to see the ambassadors, nor to hear their ad- 
 dress, though they were before him. Heaven, 
 however, revenged the affront. Before they were 
 gone, news was brought him, that a battalion of 
 Spartans was cut in pieces by Iphicrates. This 
 was one of the greatest losses his country had 
 sustained for a long time : and beside being 
 deprived of a number of brave men, there was 
 this mortification, that their heavy-armed soldiers 
 were beaten by the light-armed, and Lacedaemo- 
 nians by mercenaries. 
 
 Agesilaus immediately marched to their assist- 
 ance ; but finding it too late, he returned to the 
 temple of Juno, and acquainted the Boeotian 
 ambassadors that he was ready to give them 
 audience. Glad of the opportunity to return the 
 insult, they came, but made no mention of the 
 peace. They only desired a safe conduct to 
 Corinth. Agesilaus, provoked at the demand, 
 answered, “ If you are desirous to see your 
 friends in the elevation of success, to-morrow you 
 shall do it with all the security you can desire.’’ 
 Accordingly, the next day he laid waste the 
 territories of Corinth, and taking them with him, 
 advanced to the very walls. Thus having shown 
 the ambassadors, that the Corinthians did not 
 dare to oppose him, he dismissed them : then he 
 collected such of his countrymen as ba d escaped 
 in the late action, and marched to Lacedaemon ; 
 taking care every day to move before it was 
 light, and to encamp after it was dark, to prevent 
 the insults of the Arcadians, to whose aversion 
 and envy he was no stranger. 
 
 After this, to gratify the Achaeans,* he led his 
 forces, along with theirs, into Acamania, where 
 he made an immense booty, and defeated the 
 Acamanians in a pitched battle. The Achseans 
 desired him to stay till winter, in order to pre- 
 vent the enemy from sowing their lands. But 
 he said, the step he should take would be the 
 very reverse ; for they would be more afraid of 
 war, when they had their fields covered with 
 com. The event justified his opinion. Next 
 year, as soon as an army appeared upon their 
 borders, they made peace with the Achaeans. 
 
 When Conon and Pharaabazus, with the Per- 
 sian fleet, had made themselves masters of the 
 sea, they ravaged the coasts of Laconia ; and 
 the walls of Athens were rebuilt with the money 
 which Pharaabazus supplied. The Lacedsemo- 
 then thought proper to conclude a peace 
 with the Persians, and sent Antalcidas to make 
 their proposals to Tiribazus. Antalcidas, on this 
 occasion, acted an infamous part to the Greeks 
 delivered up those cities to the kino- 
 of Persia for whose liberty Agesilaus had fought! 
 No part of the dishonour, indeed, fell upon 
 Agesilaus. Antalcidas was his enemy, and he 
 hastened the peace by all the means he could 
 devise, because he knew the war contributed to 
 tne reputation and power of the man he hated. 
 Nevertheless, when Agesilaus was told that the 
 
 Lacedaemonians were turning Medes ; No ; the 
 Medes are turning Lacedaemonians.” And 
 some of the Greeks were unwilling to be com- 
 prehended in the treaty, he forced them to accept 
 the king’s terms, by threatening them with war.* 
 His view in this was to weaken the Thebans ; 
 for It was one of the conditions, that the cities of 
 Bceoda should be free and independent. The 
 subsequent events made the matter very clear. 
 When Phoebidas, in the most unjustifiable mannerj 
 had seized the citadel of Cadmea in time of iuli 
 peace, the Greeks in general expressed their 
 indignation ; and many of the Spartans did the 
 same ; particularly those who were at variance 
 with Agesilaus. These asked him in an angry 
 tone, by whose orders Phoebidas had done so 
 unjust a thing, hoping to bring the blame upon 
 him. He scrupled not to say, in behalf of 
 Phoebidas, “ You should examine the tendency 
 of the action ; consider whether it is advantageous 
 to Sparta. If its nature is such, it was glorious 
 to do it without any orders.” Yet in his discourse 
 u always magnifying justice, and giving her 
 the first ramk ^ong the virtues. “Unsupported 
 by justice,” said he, “ valour is good for nothing ; f 
 and if all men were just, there would be no need 
 of valour.” If any one, in the course of conversa- 
 tion happened to say, “ Such is the pleasure of 
 the great king he would answer, “ How is he 
 greater than I, if he is not more just?” which 
 implies a maxim indisputably right, that justice 
 is the royal instrument by which we are to take 
 the different proportions of human excellence. 
 
 After the peace was concluded, the king of 
 Persia sent him a letter, whose purport was to 
 propose a private friendship, and the rights of 
 hospitality between them : but he declined it. 
 He said, the public friendship was sufficient ; and 
 v/hile that lasted, there was no need of a private 
 one. 
 
 Yet he did not regulate his conduct by these 
 honourable sentiments : on the contrary, he was 
 often carried away by his ambition and resent- 
 ment. Partiailarly in this affair of the Thebans, 
 he not only screened Phoebidas from punishment, 
 but persuaded the Spartan commonwealth to join 
 in his crime, by holding the Cadmea for them- 
 selves, and putting the Theban administration in 
 the hands of Archias and Leontidas, who had 
 betrayed the citadel to Phoebidas. Hence it was 
 natural to suspect, that though Phoebidas was the 
 instrument, the design was formed by Agesilaus, 
 and the subsequent proceedings confirmed it 
 
 ^e Achaeans were in possession of Calydon. 
 which before had belonged to the iEtolians. 
 ine Acamanians, now assisted by the Athe- 
 nians and Boeotians, attempted to make them- 
 ^Ives masters of it. But the Achaeans applied 
 to tfie Lacedaemonians for succours, who em- 
 ^oyed Agesilaus in that business. Xen. Gr. 
 Hist, book iv. 
 
 * The king of Persia’s terms were : That the 
 Greek cities in Asia, with the islands of Clazo- 
 menae and Cyprus should remain to him ; that 
 all the other states, small and great, should be 
 left free, excepting only Lemnos, Imbros, and 
 Scyros, which haring been from time immemorial 
 subject to the Athenians, should remain so ;^nd 
 that such as refused to embrace the place, 
 should be compelled to admit it by force of arms. 
 Xen. Aellan. lib. v. 
 
 This peace of Antalcidas was made in the year 
 before Christ, 387. 
 
 t This is not the only instance, in which we 
 find it was a maxim among the Lacedaemonians, 
 that a man ought to be strictly just in his private 
 capacity, but that he may take what latitude he 
 pleases in a public one, provided his country is a 
 gainer by it. 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 420 
 
 beyond contradiction. For when the Athenians 
 had expelled the garrison,* and restored the 
 Thebans to their liberty, he declared war against 
 the latter for putting to death Archias and Leon- 
 tidas, whom he called polemarchs, but who in 
 fact were tyrants. Cleombrotus,t who upon the 
 death of Agesipolis succeeded to the throne, was 
 sent with an army into Boeotia. For Agesilaus, 
 who was now forty years above the age of puberty, 
 and consequently excused from service by law, 
 was very willing to decline this commission. 
 Indeed, as he had lately made war upon the 
 Phliasians in favour of exiles, he was ashamed 
 now to appear in arms against the Thebans for 
 tyrants. 
 
 There was then a Lacedaemonian named Spho- 
 drias, of the party that opposed Agesilaus, lately 
 appointed governor of Thespise. He wanted 
 neither courage nor ambition, but he was 
 governed rather by sanguine hopes than good 
 sense and prudence. This man, fond of a great 
 name, and reflecting how Phoebidas had dis- 
 tinguished himself in the lists of fame by his 
 Theban enterprise, was persuaded it would be 
 a much greater and more glorious performance, if 
 without any directions from his superiors he 
 could seize upon the Piraeus, and deprive the 
 Athenians of the empire of the sea, by a sudden 
 attack at land. ^ ^ . 
 
 It IS said, that this was a train laid for him by 
 Pelopidas and Gelon, first magistrates in Boeotia. f 
 They sent persons to him, who pretended to be 
 much in the Spartan interest, and who by magni- 
 fying him as the only man fit for such an exploit, 
 worked up his ambition till he undertook a thing 
 equally unjust and detestable with the affair of 
 the Cadmea, but conducted with less valour, and 
 attended with less success. He hoped to have 
 reached the Piraeus in the night, but daylight 
 overtook him upon the plains of Thriasia. And 
 we are told, that some light appearing to the 
 soldiers to stream from the temples of Eleusis, 
 they were struck with a religious horror. Spho- 
 drias himself lost his spirit of adventure, when he 
 found his march could no longer be concealed ; 
 and having collected some trifling booty, he re- 
 turned with disgrace to Thespiae. 
 
 Hereupon, the Athenians sent deputies to 
 Sparta, to complain of Sphodrias ; but they found 
 the magistrates had proceeded against him with- 
 out their complaints, and that he was already 
 under a capital prosecution. He had not dared 
 to appear and take his trial ; for he dreaded the 
 rage o his countrymen, who were ashamed of his 
 conduct to the Athenians, and who were willing 
 to resent the injury as done to themselves, rather 
 than have it thought that they had joined in so 
 flagrant an act of injustice. 
 
 Sphodrias had a son named Cleonvmus, young 
 and handsome, and a particular favourite of Archi- 
 dar^us, the son of Agesilaus. Archidamus, as it 
 is natural to suppose, shared in all the uneasiness 
 
 See Xen. Grec. Hist. 1. v., whence it appears 
 that the Cadmea was recovered by the Athenian 
 forces. 
 
 t Cleombrotus was the youngest son of Pau- 
 sanias, and brother to Agesipolis. 
 
 t They feared the Lacedaemonians were too 
 strong for them, and therefore put Sphodrias 
 upon this act of hostility against the Athenians, 
 in order to draw them into the quarrel. 
 
 of the young man for his father ; but he knew 
 not how to appear openly in his behalf, because 
 Sphodrias had been a strong adversary to Agesi- 
 laus. However, as Cleonymus applied to him, 
 and entreated him with many tears to intercede 
 with Agesilaus, as the person whom they had 
 most reason to dread, he undertook the com- 
 mission. Three or four days passed, _ during 
 which he was restrained by a reverential awe 
 from speaking of the matter to his father ; but 
 he followed him up and down in silence. At last, 
 when the day of trial was at hand, he summoned 
 up courage enough to say, Cleonymus was a 
 suppliant to him for his father. Agesilaus, know- 
 ing the attachment of his son to that youth, did 
 not lay any injunctions upon him against it. For 
 Cleonymus, from his infancy, had given hopes 
 that he would one day rank with the worthiest 
 men in Sparta. Yet he did not give him room to 
 expect any great favour in this case : he only said, 
 he would consider what would be the consistent 
 and honourable part for him to act. 
 
 Archidamus, therefore, ashamed of the inefficacy 
 of his interposition, discontinued his visits to 
 Cleonymus, though before he used to call upon 
 him many times in a day. Hence the friends 
 of Sphodrias gave up the point for lost ; till 
 an intimate acquaintance of Agesilaus, named 
 Etymocles, in a conversation which passed be- 
 tween them, discovered the sentiments of that 
 rince. He told them, he highly disapproved 
 that attempt of Sphodrias, yet he looked upon 
 him as a brave man, and was sensible that Sparta 
 had occasion for such soldiers as he. This was 
 the way, indeed, in which Agesilaus constantly 
 spoke of the cause, in order to oblige his son. 
 By this Cleonymus immediately perceived with 
 how much zeal Archidamus had served him ; and 
 the friends of Sphodrias appeared with more 
 courage in his behalf. Agesilaus was certainly 
 a most affectionate father. It is said, when his 
 children were small, he would join in their sports : 
 and a friend happening to find him one day riding 
 among them upon a stick, he desired him not to 
 mention it till he was a father himself. 
 
 Sphodrias was acquitted ; upon which the 
 Athenians prepared for war. This drew the 
 censures of the world upon Agesilau.s, who, to 
 gratify an absurd and childish inclination of his 
 son, obstructed the course of justice, and 
 brought his country under the reproach of such 
 flagrant offences against the Greeks. As he 
 found his colleague Cleombrotus* disinclined to 
 continue the war with the Thebans, he dropped 
 the excuse the law furnished him with, though 
 he had made use of it before, and marched him- 
 self into Boeotia. The ThelDans suffered much 
 from his operations, and he felt the same from 
 theirs in his turn. So that Antalcidas one day 
 seeing him come off wounded, thus addressed 
 him : “The Thebans pay you well for teaching 
 them to fight, when they had neither inclination 
 nor sufficient skill for it.” It is certain the 
 Thebans were at this time much more formidable 
 in the field than they had ever been ; after 
 having been trained and exercised in so many 
 wars with the Lacedsemonians. For the same 
 
 * Xenophon says, the Ephori thought Age- 
 silaus, as a more experienced general, would 
 conduct the war better than Cleombrotus. Tor 
 vlov has nothing to do in the text. 
 
AGESILAUS, 421 
 
 reason their ancient sage, Lycurgus, in one of 
 his three ordinances called R he tree, forbade them 
 to go to war with the same enemy often ; 
 namely, to prevent the enemy from learning their 
 art. 
 
 The allies of Sparta likewise complained of 
 Agesilaus, that it was not in any public quarrel, 
 but from an obstinate spirit of private resent- 
 ment,* that he sought to destroy the Thebans, 
 For their part, they said, they were wearing 
 themselves out, without any occasion, by going 
 in such numbers upon this or that expedition 
 every year, at the will of a handful of Lacedae- 
 monians. Hereupon, Agesilaus, desirous to 
 show them that the number of their warriors 
 was not so great, ordered all the allies to sit 
 down promiscuously on one side, and all the 
 Lacedaemonians on the other. This done, the 
 crier summoned the trades to stand up one after 
 another ; the potters first, and then the braziers, 
 the carpenters, the masons, in short all the 
 mechanics. Almost all the allies rose up to 
 answer in one branch of business or other, but 
 not one of the Lacedaemonians ; for they were 
 forbidden to learn or exercise any manual art. 
 Then Agesilaus smiled and said, “You see, my 
 friends, we send more warriors into the field than 
 you.” 
 
 When he was come as far as Megara, upon his 
 return from Thebes, as he was going up to the 
 senate-house in the citadel, f he was seized with 
 spasms and an acute pain in his right leg. It 
 swelled immediately, the vessels were distended 
 with blood, and there appeared all the signs of 
 a violent inflammation. A Syracusan physician 
 opened a vein below the ankle ; upon which the 
 pain abated ; but the blood came so fast, that it 
 was not stopped without great difficulty, nor till 
 he fainted away, and his life was in danger. He 
 was carried to Lacedaemon in a weak condition, 
 and continued a long time incapable of service. 
 
 In the mean time the Spartans met with 
 several checks both by sea and land. The most 
 considerable loss was at Leuctra, \ which was the 
 first pitched battle the Thebans gained against 
 them. Before the last mentioned action, all 
 parties were disposed to peace, and the states 
 of Greece sent their deputies to Lacedaemon to 
 treat of it. Among these was Epaminondas, 
 who was celebrated for his erudition and philo- 
 sophy, but had as yet given no proofs of his 
 capacity for commanding armies. He saw the 
 other deputies were awed by the presence of 
 Agesilaus, and he was the only one who pre- 
 served a proper dignity and freedom both in his 
 
 manner and his propositions. He made a speech 
 in lavour, not only of the Thebans, but of Greece 
 in general ; in which he showed that war tended 
 to aggrandize Sparta, at the expense of the other 
 states ; and insisted that the peace should be 
 founded upon justice and equality ; because then 
 only it would be lasting, when all were put upon 
 an equal footing. 
 
 Agesilaus perceiving that the Greeks li.stened 
 to him with wonder and great attention, asked 
 him whether he thought it just and equitable 
 that the cities of Bosotia should be declared free 
 and independent. Epaminondas, with great 
 readiness and spirit, answered him with another 
 question, “ Do you think it reasonable that all 
 the cities of Laconia should be declared inde- 
 pendent ? ” Agesilaus, incen.sed at this answer, 
 started up, and insisted upon his declaring 
 peremptorily whether he agreed to a perfect 
 independence for Bceotia ; and Epaminondas 
 replied as before, “ On condition you put La- 
 conia in the same state.” Agesilaus, now ex- 
 asperated to the last degree, and glad 0: a pre- 
 tence against the Thebans, struck their name 
 out of the treaty, and declared war against them 
 upon the spot. After the rest of the deputies 
 had signed such points as they could settle 
 amicably, he dismissed them ; leaving others 
 of more dififlcult nature to be decided by the 
 sword. 
 
 As Cleombrotus had then an army in Phocis, 
 the Epkori sent him orders to march against the 
 Thebans. At the same' time they sent their 
 commissaries to assemble the allies, who were 
 ill inclined to the war, and considered it as a 
 great burden upon them, though they durst not 
 contradict or oppose the Lacedaemonians. Many 
 inauspicious signs and prodigies appeared, as v/e 
 have observed in the life of Epaminondas ; and 
 Protheus* the Spartan opposed the war to the 
 utmost of his power. But Agesilaus could not 
 be driven from his purpose. He prevailed to 
 have hostilities commenced ; in hopes, that while 
 the rest of Greece was in a state of freedom, 
 and in alliance with Sparta, and the Thebans 
 only excepted, he should have an excellent 
 opportunity to chastise them. That the war was 
 undertaken to gratify his resentment, rather than 
 upon rational motives, appears from hence ; the 
 treaty was concluded at Lacedaemon on the 
 fourteenth of June, and the Lacedaemonians 
 were defeated at Leuctra on the filth of July ; 
 •which was only twenty days after. A thousand 
 citizens of Lacedaemon were killed there, among 
 whom were their king Cleombrotus and the 
 flower of their army, who fell by his side. The 
 beautiful Cleonymus, the son of Sphodriais, was 
 of the number ; he was struck down three several 
 
 * This private resentment and enmity which 
 Agesilaus entertained against the Thebans, went 
 near to bring ruin both upon himself and his 
 country. 
 
 t Xenophon (Hellan. 337, 12 Ed. St.) says, it 
 was as he was going from the temple of Venus to 
 the senate-house. 
 
 + 5 ome manuscripts have it Tegyra ; but here 
 is no necessity to alter the received reading ; 
 though Palmer insists so much upon it. For 
 that of Leuctra was certainly the first pitched 
 battle in which the Thebans defeated the Athe- 
 nians ; and they effected it at the first career. 
 Besides, it appears from Xenophon (Hellan. 349, 
 25), that Agesilaus was not then recovered of the 
 sickness mentioned in the text. 
 
 * Protheus proposed that the Spartans should 
 disband their army according to their engage- 
 ment : that all the states should carry their 
 contributions to the temple of Apollo, to be 
 employed only in making war upon such as 
 should oppose the liberty of the cities. This, 
 he said, would give the cause the sanction of 
 Heaven, and the states of Greece would at all 
 times be ready to embark in it. But the Spar- 
 tans only laughed at this advice ; for, as Xeno- 
 phon adds, “It looked as if the gods were 
 already urging on the Lacedaemonians to their 
 ruin.” 
 
422 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES, 
 
 times, as he was fighting in defence of his prince, 
 and rose up as often ; and at last was killed with 
 h.s sword in his hand.* 
 
 After the Lacedsemonians had received this 
 unexpected blow, and the Thebans were crowned 
 with more glorious success than Greeks had ever 
 boasted, m a battle with Greeks, the spirit and 
 dignity of the vanquished was, notwithstanding, 
 more to be admired and applauded than that of 
 the conquerors. And indeed, if, as Xenophon 
 says, “Men of merit, in their convivial con- 
 versations, let fall some expressions that deserve 
 to be remarked and preserved, certainly the 
 noble behaviour and the expressions of such 
 persons, when struggling with adversity, claim 
 our notice much more.” When the Spartans 
 received the news of the overthrow at Leuctra, it 
 happened that they were celebrating a festival, 
 and the city was full of strangers ; for the troops 
 of young men and maidens were at their exei'- 
 cises in the theatre. The Ephori, though they 
 immediately perceived that their affairs were 
 ruined, and that they had lost the empire of 
 Greece, would not suffer the sports to break off, 
 nor any of the ceremonies or decorations of the 
 festival to be omitted ; but having sent the 
 names of the kille d to their respective families 
 they stayed to see the exercises, the dances, and 
 all other parts of the exhibition concluded.! 
 
 Next morning, the names of the killed, and of 
 those who survived the battle, being perfectly 
 ascertained, the fathers and other relations of 
 the dead appeared in public, and embraced each 
 other with a cheerful air and a generous pride ; 
 while the relations of the survivors shut them- 
 selves up, as in time of mourning. And if any 
 one was forced to go out upon business, he 
 showed all the tokens of sorrow and humiliation 
 
 * Epaminondas placed his best troops in one 
 wing, and those he least depended on in the 
 other. The former he commanded in person ; 
 to the latter he gave directions, that when they 
 found the enemy’s charge too heavy, they should 
 retire leisurely, so as to expose to them a sloping 
 front. Cleombrotus and Archidamus advanced 
 to the charge with great vigour ; but, as they 
 pressed on the Theban wing which retired, they 
 gave Epaminondas an opportunity of charging 
 them both in flank and front ; which he did with 
 so much bravery, that the Spartans began to 
 give way, especially after Cleombrotus was slain, 
 whose dead body, however, they recovered. At 
 length they were totally defeated, chiefly by the 
 skill and conduct of the Theban general. Four 
 thousand Spartans were killed on the field of 
 battle : whereas the Thebans did not lose above 
 300. Such was the fatal battle of Leuctra, 
 wherein the Spartans lost their superiority in 
 Greece, which they had held near 500 years. 
 
 t But where was the merit of all this ? What 
 could such a conduct have for its support but 
 either insensibility or affectation ? If they found 
 any reason to rejoice in the glorious deaths of 
 their friends and fellow-citizens, certainly the 
 ruin of the state was an object sufficiently serious 
 to call them from the pursuits of festivity ! But, 
 Quos Jupiter vuLt perdere prius dejnentant: 
 the infatuation of ambition and jealousy drew 
 upon them the Theban war, and it seemed to 
 last upon them, even when they had felt its fatal 
 consequences. 
 
 both in his speech and countenance. The dif- 
 ference was still more remarkable among the 
 matrons. They who expected to receive their 
 sons alive from the battle were melancholy and 
 silent ; whereas those who had an account that 
 their sons were slain, repaired immediately to 
 the temples to return thanks, and visited each 
 other with all the marks of joy and elevation. 
 
 The people, who were now deserted by their 
 allies, and expected that Epaminondas, in the 
 pride of victory, would enter Peloponnesus, 
 called to mind the oracle, which they applied 
 again to the lameness of Agesilaus. The scruples 
 they had on this occasion, discouraged them 
 extremely, and they were afraid the divine 
 displeasure had brought upon them the late 
 calamity for expelling a sound man from the 
 throne, and preferring a lame one, in spite of 
 the extraordinary warnings Heaven had given 
 them against it. Nevertheless, in regard of his 
 virtue, his authority, and renown, they looked 
 upon him as the only man who could retrieve 
 their affairs ; for, beside marching them under 
 his banners as their prince and general, they 
 applied to him in every internal disorder of the 
 commonwealth. At present they were at a loss 
 what to do with those who had fled from the 
 battle. The Lacedaemonians call such persons 
 tresa 7 ttasP In this case they did not choose to 
 set such marks of disgrace upon them as the 
 laws directed, because they were so numerous 
 and powerful, that there was reason to appre- 
 hend it might occasion an insurrection : for such 
 persons are not only excluded all offices, but it 
 is infamous to intermarry with them. Any man 
 that meets them is at liberty to strike them. 
 They are obliged to appear in a forlorn manner, 
 and in a vile habit, with patches of divers 
 colours ; and to wear their beards half shaved 
 and half unshaved. To put so rigid a law as 
 this in execution, at a time when the offenders 
 were so numerous, and when the commonwealth 
 had so much occasion for soldiers, was both 
 impolitic and dangerous. 
 
 In this perplexity they had recourse to Agesi- 
 laus, and invested him with new powers of legis- 
 lation. But he, without making any addition, 
 retrenchment, or change, went into the assembly, 
 and told the Lacedaemonians, the laws should 
 sleep that day, and resume their authority the 
 day following, and retain it for ever. By this 
 means he preserved to the state its laws^ entire, 
 as well as the obnoxious persons from infamy. 
 Then, in order to raise the youth out of the 
 depression and melancholy under which they 
 laboured, he entered Arcadia at the head of 
 them. He avoided a battle, indeed, with great 
 care, but he took a little town of the Mantineans, 
 and ravaged the flat country. This restored 
 Sparta to her spirits in some degree, and gave 
 her reason to hope that she was not absolutely 
 lost. 
 
 Soon after this, Epaminondas and his allies 
 entered Laconia. His infantry amounted to 
 40,000 men, exclusive of the light armed, and 
 those who, without arms, followed only for 
 plunder. For, if the whole were reckoned, there 
 were not fewer than 70,000 that poured into that 
 country. Full 600 years were elapsed since the 
 first establishment of the Dorians in Lacedaemon, 
 
 * That is, persons governed by their fears. 
 
AGESILAUS. 423 
 
 and this was the first time, in all that long 
 period, they had seen an enemy in their terri- 
 tories ; none ever dared to set foot in them 
 before. But now a new scene of hostilities ap- 
 peared; the confederates advanced without re- 
 sistance, laying all waste with fire and sword, as 
 far as the Eurotas, and the very suburbs of 
 Sparta- For, as Theopompus informs us, Age- 
 silaus would not suffer the Lacedaemonians to 
 engage with such an impetuous torrent of war. 
 He contented himself with placing his best 
 infantry in the middle of the city, and other 
 important posts ; and bore the menaces and 
 insults of the Thebans, who called him out by 
 name, as the firebrand which had lighted up the 
 waur, and bade him fight for his country, upon 
 which he had brought so many misfortunes. 
 
 Agesilaus was equally disturbed at the tumult 
 and disorder within the city, the outcries of the 
 old men, who moved backwards and forwards, 
 expressing their grief . and indignation, and the 
 wild behaviour of the women, who were terrified 
 even to madness at the shouts of the enemy, and 
 the flames which ascended around them. He 
 was in pain, too, for his reputation. Sparta was 
 a great and powerful state at his accession, and 
 he now saw her glory wither, and his own boasts 
 come to nothing. It seems, he had often said, 
 “No Spartan woman ever saw the smoke of an 
 enemy’s camp.” In like manner, when an 
 Athenian disputed with Antalcides, on the subject 
 of valour, and said, “ We have often driven you 
 from the banks of the Cephisus,” Antalcides 
 answered, “ But we never drove you from the 
 banks of the Eurotas.” Near akin to this, was 
 the repartee of a Spartan of less note, to a man of 
 Argos, who said, “ Many of you sleep on the 
 plains of Argos.” The Spartan answered, “ But 
 not one of you sleeps on the plains of Lacedse- 
 mon.” 
 
 Some say, Antalcidas was then one of the 
 Epkori^ and that he conveyed his children to 
 Cythera, in fear that Sparta would be taken. As 
 the enemy prepared to pass the Eurotas, in order 
 to attack the town itself, Agesilaus relinquished 
 the other posts, and drew up all his forces on an 
 eminence in the middle of the city. It happened 
 that the river was much swollen with the snow 
 which had fallen in great quantities, and the cold 
 was more troublesome to the Thebans than the 
 rapidity of the current ; yet Epaminondas forded 
 it at the head of his infantry. As he was passing 
 it, somebody pointed him out to Agesilaus ; who, 
 after having viewed him for some time, only let 
 fall this expression, “ O adventurous man ! ” All 
 the ambition of Epaminondas was to come to an 
 engagement in the city, and to erect a trophy 
 there ; but finding he could not draw down Age- 
 silaus from the heights, he decamped, and laid 
 waste the country. 
 
 There had long been a disaffected party in 
 Lacedsemon, and now about 200 of that party 
 leagued together, and seized upon a strong post, 
 called the Issoriu 7 n, in which stood the temple of 
 Diana. The Lacedaemonians wanted to have 
 the place stormed immediately : but Agesilaus, 
 apprehensive of an insurrection in their favour, 
 took his cloak and one servant with him, and 
 told thena aloud, that they had mistaken their 
 orders. “ I did not order you, ” said he, “ to take 
 post here, nor all in any one place, but some 
 there,” (pointing to another place), “ and some in 
 
 other quarters.” ^ \Vhen they heard this, they 
 were happy in thinking their design was not dis- 
 covered ; and they cam out, and went to several 
 posts as he directed them. At the same time he 
 lodged another corps in the Issorium, and took 
 about fifteen of the mutineers, and put them to 
 death in the night. 
 
 Soon after this, he discovered another, and 
 much greater conspiracy, of Spartans, who met 
 privately in a house belonging to one of them, to 
 consider of means to change the form of govern- 
 ment. It was dangerous either to bring them to 
 a trial in a time of so much trouble, or to let their 
 cabals pass without notice. Agesilaus, therefore, 
 having consulted with the Ephori, put them to 
 death without the formality of a trial, though no 
 Spartan had ever suffered in that manner before. 
 
 As many of the neighbouring burghers and of 
 the Helots who were enlisted, slunk away from 
 the town, and deserted to the enemy, and this 
 greatly discouraged his forces, he ordered his 
 servants to go early in the morning to their 
 quarters, and where they found any had de- 
 serted, to hide their arms, that their numbers 
 might not be known. 
 
 Historians do not agree as to the time when 
 the Thebans quitted Laconia. Some say the 
 winter soon forced them to retire ; the Arcadians 
 being impatient of a campaign at that season, 
 and falling oflf in a very disorderly manner : 
 others affirm, that the Thebans stayed full three 
 months : in which time they laid waste almost all 
 the country. Theopompus writes, that at the 
 very juncture the governors of Bceotia had sent 
 them orders to return, there came a Spartan 
 named Phrixus, on the part of Agesilaus, and 
 gave them ten talents to leave Laconia. So that, 
 according to him, they not only executed ail that 
 they intended, but had money from the enemy to 
 defray the expenses of their return. For my 
 part, I cannot conceive how Theopompus came 
 to be acquainted with this particular, which other 
 historians knew nothing of. 
 
 It is universally agreed, however, that Age- 
 silaus saved Sparta by controlling his native 
 passions of obstinacy and ambition, and pursuing 
 no measures but what were sale. He could not, 
 indeed, after the late blow, restore her to her 
 former glory and power. As healthy bodies, 
 long accustomed to a strict and regular diet, 
 often find one deviation from that regimen fatal, 
 so one miscarriage brought that flourishing state 
 to decay. Nor is it to be wondered at. Their 
 constitution was admirably formed for peace, for 
 virtue, and harmony ; but when they wanted to 
 add to their dominions by force of arms, and to 
 make acquisitions which Lycurgus thought un- 
 necessary to their happiness, they split upon that 
 rock he had warned them to avoid. 
 
 Agesilaus now declined the service, on account 
 of his great age. But his son Archidamus, 
 having received some succours from Dionysius 
 the Sicilian tyrant, fought the Arcadians, and 
 gained that which is called the tearless battle; 
 for he killed great numbers of the enemy, without 
 losing a man himself. 
 
 Nothing could afford a greater proof of the 
 weakness of Sparta than this victory. Before it 
 had been so common and so natural a thing for 
 Spartans to conquer, that on such occasions they 
 offered no greater sacrifice than a cock ; the com- 
 batants were not elated, nor those who received 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 the tidings of victory overjoyed. Even when 
 that great battle was fought at Mantinea, which 
 Thucydides has so well described, the Epfwri 
 presented the person who brought them the first 
 news of their success with nothing but a mess of 
 meat from the public table. But now, when an 
 account of this battle was brought, and Archi- 
 damus approached the town, they were not able 
 to contain themselves. P'irst his father advanced 
 to meet him with tears of joy, and after him 
 the magistrates. Multitudes of old men and of 
 women flocked to the river, stretching out their 
 hands, and blessing the gods, as if Sparta had 
 washed off her late unworthy stains, and seen her 
 glory stream out afresh. Till that hour the men 
 were so much ashamed of the loss they had sus- 
 tained, that, it is said, they could not even carry 
 it with an unembarrassed countenance to the 
 women. 
 
 When Epaminondas re-established Messene, 
 and the ancient inhabitants returned to it from all 
 quarters, the Spartans^ had not courage to oppose 
 him in the field. But it gave them great concern, 
 and they could not look upon Agesilaus without 
 anger, when they considered that in his reign they 
 had lost a country full as extensive as Laconia, 
 and superior in fertility to all the provinces of 
 Greece ; a country whose revenues they had long 
 called their own. For this reason, Agesilaus re- 
 jected the peace which the Thebans off^ered him ; 
 not choosing formally to give up to them what 
 they were in fact possessed of. But while he was 
 contending for what he could not recover, he was 
 near losing Sparta itself, through the superior 
 generalship of his adversary. The Mantineans 
 had separated again from their alliance with 
 Thebes, and called in the Lacedaemonians to their 
 assistance. Epaminondas being apprized that 
 Agesilaus was upon his march to Mantinea, de- 
 camped from Tegea in the night, unknown to the 
 Mantineans, and took a different road to Lacedae- 
 mon, from that Agesilaus was upon ; so that 
 nothing was more likely than that he would have 
 come upon the city in this defenceless state, and 
 have taken it with ease. But Euthynus, of 
 Thespine, as Callisthenes relates it, or some 
 Cretan, according to Xenophon, informed Agesi- 
 laus of the design, who sent a horseman to alarm 
 the city, and not long after entered it himself. 
 
 In a little time the Thebans passed the Eurotas, 
 and attacked the town. Agesilaus defended it 
 with a vigour above his years. He saw that this 
 was not the time (as it had been) for safe and 
 cautious measures, but rather for the boldest and 
 most desperate efforts \ insomuch that the means 
 in which he had never before placed any con- 
 fidence, or made the least use of, staved off the 
 present danger, and snatched the town out of the 
 hands of Epaminondas. He erected a trophy 
 upon the occasion, and showed the children and 
 the women how gloriously the Spa-rtans rewarded 
 their country for their education. Archidamus 
 greatly distinguished himself that day, both by 
 his courage and agility, flying through the bye- 
 lanes, to meet the enemy where they pressed the 
 hardest, and everywhere repulsing them with his 
 little band. 
 
 But Isadus, the son of Phoebidas, was the 
 most extraordinary and striking spectacle, not 
 only to his countrymen, but to the enemy. He 
 was tall and beautiful in his person, and just 
 growing from a boy into a man, which is the time 
 
 the human flower has the greatest charm. He 
 was without either arms or clothes, naked and 
 newly anointed with oil ; only he had a spear in 
 one hand and a sword in the other. In this con- 
 dition he rushed out of his house, and having 
 made his way through the combatants, he dealt 
 his deadly blows among the enemy’s ranks, 
 striking down every man he engaged with. Yet 
 he received nut one wound himself; whether it 
 was that Heaven preserved him in regard to his 
 valour, or whether he appeared to his adversaries 
 as something more than human. It is said, the 
 Ephori honoured him with a chaplet for the 
 great things he had performed, but at the same 
 time, fined him looo drachmas for daring to ap- 
 pear without his armour. 
 
 Some days after this there was another battle 
 before Mantinea. Epaminondas, after having 
 routed the first battalions, was very eager in the 
 pursuit ; when a Spartan named Anticrates, 
 turned short, and gave him a wound with a spear, 
 according to Dioscorides, or, as others say, with 
 a sword.* And, indeed, the descendants of 
 Anticrates are to this day called machceriones, 
 swordsmen, in Lacedaemon. This action ap- 
 peared so great, and was so acceptable to the 
 Spartans, on account of their fear of Epaminon- 
 das, that they decreed great honours and rewards 
 to Anticrates, and an exemption from taxes to his 
 posterity ; one of which, named Callicrates,! now 
 enjoys that privilege. 
 
 After this battle, and the death of Epaminon- 
 das, the Greeks concluded a peace. But 
 Agesilaus, under pretence that the Messenians 
 were not a state, insisted that they should not be 
 comprehended in the treaty. All the rest, how- 
 ever, admitted them to take the oath, as one of 
 the states ; and the Lacedaemonians withdrew, 
 intending to continue the war, in hopes of re- 
 covering Messenia. Agesilaus could not, there- 
 fore, be considered but as violent and obstinate in 
 his temper, and insatiably fond of hostilities, 
 since he took every method to obstruct the general 
 peace, and to protract the war ; though at the 
 same time, through want of money, he was 
 forced to borrow of his friends, and to demand 
 unreasonable subsidies of the people. This was 
 at a time, too, when he had the fairest opportunity 
 to extricate himself from all his distresses. 
 Besides, after he had let slip the power, which 
 never before was at such a height, lost so many 
 cities, and seen his country deprived of the 
 superiority both at sea and land, should he have 
 wrangled about the property and the revenues of 
 Messene ? 
 
 He still lost more reputation by taking a com- 
 mand under Tachos, the Egyptian chief. It was 
 not thought suitable to one of the greatest 
 characters in Greece, a man who had filled the 
 whole world with his renown, to hire out his 
 person, to give his name and his interest for a 
 pecuniary consideration, and to act as captain of 
 a band of mercenaries, for a barbarian, a rebel 
 against the king his master. Had he, now he 
 was upwards of eighty, and his body full of 
 wounds and scars, accepted again of the appoint- 
 
 * Diodorus Siculus attributes this action to 
 Grill us, the son of Xenophon, who, he says, was 
 killed immediately after. But Plutarch’s account 
 seems better grounded, 
 t Near 500 years after. 
 
AGESILAUS. 425 
 
 mcnt of captain-general, to fight for the liberties 
 of Greece, his ambition, at that time of day, 
 would not have been entirely unexceptionable. 
 For even honourable pursuits must have their 
 times and seasons to give them a propriety ; or 
 rather propriety, and the avoiding all extremes, is 
 the characteristic which distinguishes honourable 
 pursuits from the dishonourable. But Agesilaus 
 was not moved by this consideration, nor did he 
 think any public service unworthy of him ; he 
 thought it much more unbecoming to lead an 
 inactive life at home, and to sit down and wait 
 till death should strike his blow. He therefore 
 raised a body of mercenaries, and fitted out a 
 fleet, with the money which Tachos had sent him, 
 and then set sail ; taking with him thirty Spartans 
 for his counsellors, as formerly. 
 
 Upon his arrival in Egypt, all the great officers 
 of the kingdom came immediately to pay their 
 court to him. Indeed, the name and character 
 of Agesilaus had raised great expectations in the 
 Egyptians in general, and they crowded to the 
 shore to get a sight of him. But when they 
 beheld no pomp or grandeur of appearance, and 
 saw only a little old man, and in as mean attire, 
 seated on the grass by the sea side, they could 
 not help regarding the thing in a ridiculous light, 
 and observing, that this was the very thing repre- 
 sented in the fable,* “ The mountain had brought 
 forth a mouse.” They were still more surprised 
 at his want of politeness, when they brought him 
 such presents as were commonly made to strangers 
 of distinction, and he took only the flour, the 
 veal, and the geese, and refused the pasties, the 
 sweetmeats, and perfumes ; and when they 
 pressed him to accept them, he said they might 
 carry them to the Helots. Theophrastus tells us, 
 he was pleased with the papyrus^ on account of 
 its thin and pliant texture, which made it very 
 pro .er for chaplets ; and, when he left Egypt, he 
 asked the king for some of it. 
 
 Tachos was preparing for the war ; and Age- 
 silaus upon joining him, was greatly disappointed 
 to find he had not the command of all the forces 
 given him, but only that of the mercenaries. 
 Ohabrias, the Athenian, was admiral : Tachos, 
 however, reserved to himself the chief direction, 
 both at sea and land. This was the first dis- 
 agreeable circumstance that occurred to Age- 
 silaus ; and others soon followed. The vanity 
 and insolence of the Egyptian gave him great 
 pain, but he was forced to bear them. He con- 
 sented to sail with him against the Phoenicians ; 
 and, contrary to his dignity and nature, submitted 
 to the barbar an, till he could find an opportunity 
 to shake off his yoke. That opportunity soon 
 presented itself, Nectanabis, cousin to Tachos, 
 who commanded part of the forces, revolted, and 
 was proclaimed king by the Egyptians. 
 
 In consequence of this, Nectanabis sent ambas- 
 sadors to Agesilaus, to entreat his assistance. 
 He made the sam application to Chabrias, and 
 promised them both great rewards. Tachos was 
 apprized of these proceedings, and begged of them 
 not to abandon him. Chabrias listened to his 
 request, and endeavoured also to appease the 
 resentment of Agesilaus, and keep him to the 
 cause he had embarked in. Agesilaus answered. 
 
 “ As for you, Chabrias, you cams hither as a 
 volunteer, and, therefore, may act as you think 
 proper ; ^ but I was sent by my country, upon the 
 application of the Egyptians, for a general. It 
 would not, then, be right to commence hostilities 
 against the people, to whom I was sent as an 
 assistant, except Sparta should give me such 
 orders.” At the same time he sent some of his 
 officers home, with instructions to accuse Tachos, 
 and to defend the cause of Nectanabis. The 
 two rival kings also applied to the Lacedae- 
 monians ; the one as an ancient friend and ally, 
 and the other as one v/ho had a greater regard for 
 Sparta, and would give her more valuable proofs 
 of his attachment. 
 
 ^ The Lacedaemonians gave the Egyptian depu- 
 ties .the hearing, and this public answer — that 
 they should leave the business to the care of 
 Agesilaus. But their pnvate instructions to 
 
 him were, to do what should appear most ad- 
 vantageous to Sparta. Agesilaus had no sooner 
 received this order, than he withdrew with his 
 mercenaries, and went over to Nectanabis; 
 covering this strange and scandalous proceeding 
 with the pretence of acting in the best manner 
 for his country ;* when that slight veil is taken 
 off, its right name is treachery, and base deser- 
 tion. It is true, the Lacedaemonians, by placing 
 a regard to the advantage of their country, in the 
 first rank of honour and virtue, left themselves no 
 criterion of justice, but the aggrandizement of 
 Sparta. 
 
 Tachos, thus abandoned by the mercenaries, 
 took to flight. But, at the same time, there rose 
 up in Mendes another competitor, to dispute the 
 crown with Nectanabis ; and that competitor 
 advanced with 100,000 men, whom he had soon 
 assembled. Nectanabis, to encourage Agesilaus, 
 represented to him, that though the numbers of 
 the enemy were great, they were only a mixed 
 multitude, and many of them mechanics, who 
 were to be despised for their utter ignorance of 
 war. “It is not their numbers, ” said Agesilaus, 
 “ that I fear, but that ignorance and inexperience, 
 you mention, which renders them incapable of 
 being practised upon by art or stratagem : for 
 those can only be exercised with success upon 
 such as, having skill enough to suspect the 
 designs of their enemy, form schemes to counter- 
 mine him, and, in the mean time, are caught by 
 new contrivances. But he who has neither ex- 
 pectation nor suspicion of that sort, gives his 
 adversary no more opportunity than he who 
 stands still gives to a wrestler.” 
 
 Soon after, the adventurer of Mendes sent 
 persons to sound Agesilaus. This alarmed Nec- 
 tanabis : and when Agesilaus advised him to give 
 battle immediately, and not to protract the war 
 with men who had seen no service, but who, by 
 
 ♦ Xenophon has succeeded well enough in 
 defending Agesilaus with respect to his under- 
 taking the expeditions into Egypt. He represents 
 him pleased with the hopes of making Tachos 
 some return for his many services to the Lacedae- 
 monians ; of restoring, through his means, the 
 Greek cities in Asia to their liberty, and of 
 revenging the ill offices done the Spartans by the 
 king of Persia. But it was in vain for that his- 
 torian to attempt to exculpate him, with respect 
 to his deserting Tachos, which Plutarch justly 
 treats as an act of treacher>^ 
 
 * Athenseus makes Tachos say this, and Age- 
 silaus answer, “You will find me a lion by-and- 
 by ! ” 
 
426 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 the advantage of numbers, might draw a line of 
 circumvallation about his trenches, and prevent 
 him in most of his operations ; then his fears and 
 suspicions increased, and put him upon the 
 expedient of retiring into a large and well fortified 
 town. Agesilaus could not well digest this 
 instance ot distrust ; yet he was ashamed to 
 change sides again, and at last return without 
 effecting anything. He therefore followed his 
 standard, and entered the town with him. 
 
 However, when the enemy came up, and began 
 to open their trenches, in order to enclose him, 
 the Egyptian, afraid of a siege, was inclined to 
 come immediately to an engagement ; and the 
 Greeks were of his opinion, because there was no 
 great quantity of provisions in the place. But 
 Agesilaus opposed it ; and the Egyptians, on that 
 account, looked upon him in a worse light than 
 before, not scrupling to call him a traitor to their 
 king. These censures he now bore with patience, 
 because he was waiting a favourable moment for 
 putting in execution a design he had formed. 
 
 The design was this. The enemy, as we have 
 observed, were drawing a deep trench round the 
 walls, with an intent to shut up Nectanabis. 
 When they had proceeded so far in the work that 
 the two ends were almost ready to meet, as soon 
 as night came on, Agesilaus ordered the Greeks 
 to arm, and then went to the Egyptian, and said, 
 “ Now is the time, young man, for you to save 
 yourself, which I did not choose to speak of sooner, 
 lest it should be divulged and lost. The enemy 
 with their own hands have worked out your 
 security, by labouring so long upon the trench, 
 that the part which is finished will prevent our 
 suffering by their numbers, and the space which 
 is left puts it in our power to fight them upon 
 equal terms. Come on then ; now show your 
 courage : sally out along with us, with the utmost 
 vigour, and save both yourself and your army. 
 The enemy will not dare to stand us in front, and 
 our flanks are secured by the trench.” Necta- 
 nabis now, admiring his capacity, put himself in 
 the middle of the Greeks, and, advancing to the 
 charge, easily routed all that opposed him. 
 
 Agesilaus having thus gained the prince’s con- 
 fidence, availed himself once more of the same 
 
 stratagem, as a wrestler sometimes uses the same 
 sleight twice in one day. By sometimes pre- 
 tending to fly, and sometimes facing about, he 
 drew the enemy's whole army into a narrow 
 place, enclosed with two ditches that were very 
 deep, and full of water. When he saw them thus 
 entangled, he advanced to the charge, with a 
 front equal to theirs, and secured by the nature 
 of the ground against being surrounded. The 
 consequence was, that they made but little re- 
 sistance : numbers were killed, and the rest fled, 
 and were entirely put to the rout. 
 
 The Egyptian, thus successful in his affairs, 
 and firmly established in his kingdom, had a 
 grateful sense of the services of Agesilaus, and 
 pressed him to spend the winter with him. But 
 he hastened his return to Sparta, on account of 
 the war she had upon her hands at home ; for he 
 knew that her finances were low, though, at the 
 same time, she found it necessary to employ a 
 body of mercenaries. Nectanabis dismissed him 
 with great marks of honour, and, besides other 
 presents, furnished him with 230 talents of silver, 
 for the expenses of the Grecian war. But, as it 
 was winter, he met with a storm which drove 
 him upon a desert shore in Africa, called the 
 Haven of Menelaus ; and there he died, at 
 the age of eighty-four years ; of which he had 
 reigned forty-one in Lacedfcmon. Above thirty 
 years of that time he made the greatest figure, 
 both as to reputation and power, being looked 
 upon as commander in chief, and, as it were, 
 king of Greece, till the battle of Leuctra. 
 
 It was the custom of the Spartans to bury 
 persons of ordinary rank in the place where they 
 expired, when they happened to die in a foreign 
 country, but to carry the corpses of their kings 
 home. And as the attendants of Agesilaus had 
 not honey to preserve tjie body, they embalmed 
 it with melted wax, and so conveyed it to Lace- 
 daemon. His son Archidamus succeeded to the 
 crown, which descended in his family to Agis, 
 the fifth from Agesilaus. This Agis, the third of 
 that name, was assassinated by Leonidas, for 
 attempting to restore the ancient discipline of 
 Sparta, 
 
 POMPEY. 
 
 The people of Rome appear, from the first, to I 
 have been aflfected towards Pompey, much in the [ 
 same manner as Prometheus, in iEschylus, was | 
 towards Hercules, when after that hero had 
 delivered him from his chains, he says — 
 
 The sire I hated, but the son I love.* 
 
 For never did the Romans entertain a stronger 
 and more rancorous hatred for any general than 
 for Strabo, the father of Pompey. While he 
 lived, indeed, they were afraid of his abilities as 
 a soldier, for he had great talents for war ; but 
 upon his death, which happened by a stroke of 
 lightning, they dragged his corpse from the bier, 
 
 * Of the tragedy of Prometheus Released, 
 from which this line is taken, we have only some 
 fragments remaining. J upiter had chained Pro- 
 metheus to the rocks of Caucasus, and Hercules, 
 the son of Jupiter, released him. 
 
 I on the way to the funeral piie» and treated it 
 I with the greatest indignity. On the other hand, 
 
 I no man ever experienced from the same Romans 
 an attachment more early begun, more disin- 
 terested in all the stages of his prosperity, or 
 more constant and faithful in the decline of his 
 fortune, than Pompey. 
 
 The sole cause of their aversion to the father 
 was his insatiable avarice ; but there were many 
 causes of their affection for the son ; his tem- 
 perate way of living, his application to martial 
 exercises, his eloquent and persuasive address, 
 his strict honour and fidelity, and the easiness of 
 access to him upon all occasions ; for no man was 
 ever less importunate in asking favours, or more 
 gracious in conferring them. When he gave, it 
 was without arrogance ; and when he received, 
 it was with dignity. 
 
 In his youth he had a very engaging counte- 
 nance, which spoke for him before he opened his 
 
FOMPEY, 427 
 
 lips. Yet that grace of aspect v/as not un- 
 attended with dignity, and amidst his youthful 
 bloom there was a venerable and princely air. 
 His hair naturally curled a little before ; which, 
 together with the shining moisture and quick 
 turn of his eye, produced a stronger likeness of 
 Alexander the Great than that which appeared 
 in the statues of that prince. So that some 
 seriously gave him the name of Alexander, and 
 he did not refuse it ; others applied it to him by 
 way of ridicule. And Lucius Phiiipipus,* a man 
 of consular dignity, as he was one day pleading 
 for him said, it was no wonder if Phihp was a 
 lover of Alexander. 
 
 We are told that Flora, the courtesan, took a 
 pleasure, in her old age, in speaking of the com- 
 merce she had with Pompey ; and she used to 
 say, she could never quit his embraces writhout 
 giving him a bite. She added, that Geminius, 
 one of Pompey’s acquaintance, had a passion for 
 her, and gave her much trouble with his solicita- 
 tions. At last, she told him she could not con- 
 sent, on account of Pompey. Upon which he 
 applied to Pompey for ins permission, and he 
 gave it him, but never approached her after- 
 wards, though he seemed to retain a regard for 
 her. She bore the loss of him, not with the 
 shght uneasiness of a prostitute, but was long 
 sick through sorrow and regret. It is said that 
 Flora was so celebrated for her beauty and fine 
 bloom that when Caecilius Metellus adorned the 
 temple of Castor and Pollux with statues and paint- 
 ings, he gave her picture a place among them. 
 
 Demetrius, one of Pompey’s freedmen, who 
 had great interest with him, and who died worth 
 4000 talents, had a wife of irresistible beauty. 
 Pompey, on that account, behaved to her wfith 
 less politeness than was natural to him, that he 
 might not appear to be caught by her charms. 
 But though he took his measures with so much 
 care and caution in this respect, he could not 
 escape the censure of his enemies, who accused 
 him of a commerce with married women, and said 
 he often neglected, or gave up points essential to 
 the public, to gratify his mistresses. 
 
 As to the simplicity of his diet, there is a 
 remarkable sajdng of his upon record. In a 
 great iUness, when his appetite was almost gone, 
 the physician ordered him a thrush. His ser- 
 ^’ants, upon inquiry, found there was not one to 
 be had for money, for the season was past. They 
 were informed, however, that Lucullus had them 
 all the 3-ear in his menageries. This being re- 
 ported to Pomp>ey, he said, “ Does Pompe5' s life 
 depend upon the luxury of Lucullus?” Then, 
 without an3- regard to the ph\"sician, he eat some- 
 thing that was easy to be had. But this hap- 
 pened at a later period in life. 
 
 While he was very young, and served under 
 bis father, who was carr3’ing on the war against 
 Cinna,t one Lucius Terentius was his comrade, 
 and they slept in the same tent. This Terentius’ 
 gained by Cinna^s money, undertook to assassi- 
 
 nate Pompey, while others set fire to the general’s 
 tent. Pompey got information of this when he 
 was at supper, and it did not put him in the 
 least confusion. He drank more freely, and 
 caressed Terentius more than usual ; but when 
 they were to have gone to rest, he stole out of 
 the tent, and went and planted a guard about his 
 father. This done, he waited quietly for the 
 evenL Terentius, as soon as he thought Pompey 
 was asleep, drew his sword, and stabbed the 
 coverlets of the bed in many places, imagining 
 that he was in it. 
 
 Irnmediately after this, there was a great 
 mutin3’^ in the camp. The soldiers, who hated 
 their general, were determined to go over to the 
 enemy, and began to strike their tents and take 
 up their arms. The general, dreading the tumult, 
 did not dare to make his appearance. But 
 Pompey was ever5rwhere ; he begged of them 
 vdth tears to stay, and at last threw himself up>on 
 his face in the gateway. There he lay weeping, 
 and bidding them if they would go out, tread 
 upon him. Upon this, they were ashamed to 
 proceed, and all, except 800, returned and recon- 
 ciled themselves to them generah 
 
 After the death of Strabo, a charge was laid 
 that he had converted the public money to his 
 own use, and Pompey, as his heir, was obliged to 
 answer it. Upon inquhy", he found that Alex- 
 ander, one of the enfranchised slaves, harj 
 ^creted most of the money ; and he took care to 
 inform the magistrates of the particulars. He 
 was accused, however, himself, of having taken 
 some hunting-nets and books out of the spoils of 
 Ascuium ; and, it is true, his father gave them 1 
 to him when he took the place ; but he lost them i 
 at the return of Cinna to Rome, when that 
 general’s creatures broke into and pillaged his | 
 house. In tJiis affair he maintained the combat 
 well with his adversary at the bar, and showed 
 an acuteness and firmness above his years ; 
 which gained him so much applause that An- 
 tistius, the praetor, who had the hearing of the 
 cause, conceived an affection for him, and offered 
 him his daughter in marriage. The proposal 
 accordingly w-as made to his friends. Pompey 
 accepted it ; and the treaty was concluded 
 privately. The people, however, had some notice 
 of the thing from the priins which Antistius took 
 for Pompey ; and at last, when he pronounced the 
 sentence, in the name of all the judges, by which 
 Pompey was acquitted, the multitude, as it were, 
 upon a signal given, broke out in the old mar- 
 riage acclamation of Talasw. 
 
 The origin of the term is said to have been I 
 this. When the principal Romans seized the ; 
 daughters of the Chines, who were come to see • 
 the games the3’^ were celebrating to entrap them, 
 some herdsmen and shepherds laid hold of a 
 virgin remarkably tall and handsome ; and, lest 
 she should be taken from them, as the3' carried 
 her off, the3" cried all the way the3" went Talxisio. 
 Talasius was a 3-oung man, universally beloved 
 and admired ; therefore all who heard them de- 
 lighted with the intention, joined m the cry, and 
 accompanied them with plaudits. They teU us, 
 the marriage of Talasius proved fortunate, and 
 thence all bridegrooms, by way of mirth, were 
 w'elcomed with that acclamation. This is the 
 most probable accoimt I can find of the term.* 
 
 * Lucius Marcus Philippus, one of the greatest 
 orators of his time. He was father-in-law to 
 Augustus, having married his mother Attia. 
 Horace speaks of him, lib. i. ep. 7. 
 
 ^ 3 ^^^ of Rome 666. And as Pompey 
 
 was bora the same year with Cicero, vix. in the 
 year of Rome 647, he must, in this war -with 
 Cmna, have been nineteen years old. 
 
 * See more ef this in the Life of Romulus. 
 
428 
 
 PLUTARCH LIVES, 
 
 Pompey in a little time married Antistia ; and 
 afterwards repaired to Cinna's camp. But finding 
 some ur.just charges laid against him there, he 
 took the first private opportunity to withdraw. 
 As he was nowhere to be found, a rumour pre- 
 vailed in the army, that Cinna had put the young 
 man to death : upon which, numbers who hated 
 Cinna, and could no longer bear with his cruelties, 
 attacked his quarters. He fled for his life ; and 
 being overtaken by one of the inferior officers, 
 who pursued him with a drawn sword, he fell 
 upon his knees, and offered him his ring, which 
 was of no small value. The officer answered, 
 with great ferocity, “I am not come to sign a 
 contract, but to punish an impious and lawless 
 tyrant,” and then killed him upon the spot. 
 
 Such was the end of Cinna ; after whom Carbo, 
 a t^Tant still more savage, took the reins of 
 government. It was not long, however, before 
 Sylla returned to Ital^^ to the great satisfaction 
 of most of the Romans, v/ho, in their present 
 unhappy circumstances, thought the change of 
 their master no small advantage. To such a 
 i desperate state had their calamities brought them, 
 
 ! that no longer hoping for liberty, they sought 
 only the most tolerable servitude. 
 
 At that time Pompey was in the Picene, v/hither 
 he had retired, partly because he had lands there, 
 but more on account of an old attachment which 
 the cities in that district had to his family. As 
 he observ’^ed that the best and most considerable 
 of the citizens left their houses, and took refuge 
 in Sylla’s camp as in a port, he resolved to do 
 the same. At the same time he thought it did 
 not become him to go like a fugitive who wanted 
 protection, but rather in a respectable manner at 
 the head of an army. He therefore tried what 
 levies he could make in the Picene,* and the 
 people readily repaired to his standard ; rejecting 
 the applications of Carbo. On this occasion, one 
 Vindius happening to say, “ Pompey is just come 
 from under the hands of the pedagogue, and all 
 on a sudden is become a demagogue among you,” 
 they were so provoked, that they fell upon him 
 and cut him in pieces. 
 
 Thus Pompey, at the age of twenty-three, v.-ith- 
 out a commission from any superior authority, 
 erected himself into a general ; and ha\hng placed 
 his tribunal in the most public part of the great 
 city of Auximum, by a formal decree commanded 
 the Ventidii, two brothers who opposed him in 
 behalf of Carbo, to depart the city. He enlisted 
 soldiers; he appointed tribunes, centurions, and 
 other officers, according to the established custom. 
 He did the same in all the neighbouring cities ; 
 for the partisans of Carbo retired and gave place 
 to him, and the rest were glad to range them- 
 selves under his banners. So that in a little time 
 he raised three complete legions, and furnished 
 himself with provisions, beasts of burden, car- 
 riages ; in short, with the whole apparatus of war. 
 
 In this f rm he moved towards Sylla, not by 
 hasty marches, nor as if he wanted to conceal 
 himself ; for he stopped by the way to harass the 
 enemy, and attempted to draw off from Carbo all 
 the parts of Italy through which he passed. At 
 last, three generals of the opposite party. Carinna, 
 Coelius and Brutus, came against him all at once, 
 not in front, or in one body, but they hemmed 
 
 * Now the March of Ancona. 
 
 him in with their three armies, in hopes to de- 
 molish him entirely. 
 
 Pompey, far from being terrified, assembled all 
 his forces, and charged the army of Brutus at the 
 head of his cavaliy. The Gaulis.h horse on the 
 enemy’s side sustained the first shock ; but Pompey 
 attacked the foremost of them, who was a man of 
 prodigious strength, and brought him down with 
 a push of his spear. The rest immediately fled 
 and threw the infantry into such disorder that 
 the whole was soon put to flight. This produced 
 so great a quarrel among the three generals, that 
 they parted and took separate routes. In conse- 
 quence of which, the cities, concluding that the 
 fears of the enemy had made them part, adopted 
 the interest of Pompey. 
 
 Not long after, Scipio the consul advanced to 
 engage him. But before the infantry were near 
 enough to discharge their lances, Scipio’s soldiers 
 saluted those of Pompey, and came over to them. 
 Scipio, therefore, was forced to fly. At last Carbo 
 sent a large body of cavalry against Pompey, 
 near the river Arsis. He gave them so warm a 
 reception, that they were soon broken, and in the 
 pursuit drove them upon impracticable ground ; 
 so that finding it impossible to escape, they sur- 
 rendered themselves with their arms and horses. 
 
 Sylla had not yet been informed of these trans- 
 actions ; but upon the first news of Pompey’s 
 being engaged with so many adversaries, and 
 such respectable generals, he dreaded the conse- 
 quence, and marched with all expedition to his 
 assistance. Pompey, having intelligence of his 
 approach, ordered his officers to see that the 
 troops were armed and drawn up in such a manner 
 as to make the handsomest and most gallant 
 appearance before the commander in chief. For 
 he expected great honours from him, and he 
 obtained greater. Sylla no sooner saw Pompey 
 advancing to meet him, with an army in excellent 
 condition, both as to age and size of the men, 
 and the spirits which success had given them, 
 than he alighted ; and upon being saluted of 
 course by Pompey as Imperator, he returned his 
 salutation with the same title : though no one 
 imagined that he would have honoured a young 
 man, not yet admitted into the senate, with a 
 title for which he was contending with the Scipios 
 and the Marii. The rest of his behaviour was as 
 respectable as that in the first interview. He 
 used to rise up and uncover his head, whenever 
 Pompey came to him ; which he was rarely ob- 
 served to do for any other, though he had a 
 number of persons of distinction about him. 
 
 Pompey was not elated with these honours. 
 On the contrary, when Sylla wanted to send him 
 into Gaul, where Metellus had done nothing 
 worthy of the forces under his directions, he said 
 it was not right to take the command from a man 
 who was his superior both in age and character ; 
 but if Metellus should desire his assistance in the 
 conduct of the war, it was at his service. Me- 
 tellus accepted the proposal, and wrote to him 
 to come ; whereupon he entered Gaul, and not 
 only signalized his own valour and capacity, but 
 excited once more the spirit of adventure in Me- 
 tellus, which was almost extinguished with age : 
 just as brass in a state of fusion is said to melt 
 a cold plate sooner than fire itself. But as it is 
 not usual, when a champion has distinguished 
 himself in the lists, and gained the prize in all 
 the games, to record or to take any notice of 
 
POMPEY. 
 
 429 
 
 the performances of his younger years ; so the 
 actions of Pompej’^, in this period, though extra- | 
 ordinary in themselves, yet being eclipsed by the j 
 number and importance of his later expeditions, 
 
 I shall forbear to mention, lest, by dwelling upon 
 his first essays, I should not leave m^^self room 
 for those greater and more critical events which 
 mark his character and turn of mind. 
 
 Alter Sylla had made himself master of Italy, 
 and was declared dictator, he rewarded his 
 principal officers with riches and honours ; making 
 them liberal grants of whatever they applied for. 
 But he was most struck with the excellent quali- 
 ties of Pompey, and was persuaded that he owed 
 more to his ser\'ices than those of any other man. 
 He therefore resolved, if possible, to take him 
 into his alliance ; and, as his \vife Metella was 
 perfectly of his opinion, they persuaded Pompey 
 to divorce Antistia, and to marry ^Emilia, the 
 daughter-in-law of Sylla, whom iXIetella had by 
 Scaurus, and who was at that time pregnant by 
 another marriage. 
 
 Nothing coiiid be more t^nrannical than this 
 new contract. It was suitable, indeed, to the 
 times of Sylla, but it ill became the character 
 of Pompey to take .Emilia, pregnant as she was, 
 from another, and bring her into his house, and 
 at the same time to repudiate Antistia, distressed 
 as she must be for a father whom she had lately 
 lost, on account of this cruel husband. For 
 Antistius was killed in the senate-house, because 
 it was thought his regard for Pompey had at- 
 tached him to the cause of Sylla. And her 
 mother, upon this divorce, laid violent hands 
 upon herself. This was an additional scene of 
 misery in that tragical marriage ; as was also the 
 fate of A^milia in Pompey’s house, who died 
 there in childbed. 
 
 Soon a ter this, Sylla received an account that 
 Perpenna had made himself master of Sicily, 
 where he afforded an asylum to the party which 
 opposed the reigning powers. Carbo was hover- 
 ing with a fleet about that island ; Domitius had 
 entered Africa ; and many other persons of great 
 distinction, who had escaped . the fury of the 
 proscriptions by flight, had taken refuge there. 
 Pompey was sent against them with a consider- 
 able armament. He soon forced Perpenna to 
 quit the island ; and having recovered the cities, 
 which had been much harassed by the armies 
 that were there before his, he behaved to them 
 ail with great humanit3% except the Mamertines, 
 who were seated in Messina. That people had 
 refused to appear before his tribunal, and to 
 acknowledge his jurisdiction, alleging, that they 
 stood excused by an ancient privilege granted 
 to them by the Romans. He answered, “ Will 
 you never have done with citing laws and pri- 
 vileges to men who wear swords?” His be- 
 haviour, too, to Carbo, in his misfortunes, ap- 
 peared inhuman. For, if it was necessarj’^, as 
 i perhaps it was, to put him to death, he should 
 have done it immediately, and then it would 
 have been the work of him that gave orders for 
 it. But, instead of that, he caused a Roman, 
 who had been honoured with three consulships, 
 to be brought in chains before his tribunal, where 
 he sat in judgment on him, to the regret of all 
 the spectators, and ordered him to be led off to 
 e-xecution. WTven they were canyung him oflf, 
 and he beheld the sword drawn, he was so much 
 disordered at it, that he was forced to beg a 
 
 moment’s respite, and a private place for the 
 I necessities of nature. 
 
 j Caius Oppius,* the friend of Cssar, writes, 
 that Pompey likewise treated Quintus Valerius 
 with inhumanity. For, knowing him to be a 
 man of letters, and that few were to be compared 
 to him in point of knowledge, he took him (he 
 says) aside, and after he had walked with him 
 till he had satisfied himself upon several points 
 of learning, commanded his servants* to take him 
 to the block. But we must be very cautious how 
 we give credit to Oppius, when he speaks of the 
 friends and enemies or Cmsar. Pompey, indeed, 
 was under the neces.sity of punishing the prin- 
 cipal enemies of Sylla, particularly when they 
 were taken publicly. But others he suffered to 
 escape, and even assisted some in getting off. 
 
 He had resolved to chastise the Himereans for 
 attempting to support his enemies, when the 
 orator Sthenis told him he would act unjustly, 
 if he passed by the person that was guilty, and 
 punished the innocent. Pompey asked him who 
 was the guilty person ; and he answered, “ I am 
 the man. I persuaded my friends, and compelled 
 my enemies, to take the measures they did.” 
 Pompey, delighted with his frank confession and 
 noble spirit, forgave him first, and afterwards all 
 the people of Himera. Being informed that his 
 soldiers committed great disorders in their ex- 
 cursions, he sealed up their swords, and if any 
 of them broke the seal, he took care to have them 
 punished. 
 
 While he was making these and other regula- 
 tions in Sicily, he received a decree of the senate, 
 and letters from Sylla, in which he was com- 
 manded to cross over to Affrica and to carry on 
 the war with the utmost vigour, against Domi- 
 tius, who had assembled a much more powerful 
 army than that which Marius carried not long 
 before from Africa to Italy, when he made him- 
 self master of Rome, and of a fugitive became 
 a tyrant. Pompey soon finished his preparations 
 for this expedition ; and leaving the command in 
 Sicily to Memmius, his sister’s husband, he set 
 sail with 120 armed vessels, and 800 storeships, 
 laden with provisions, arms, money, and ma- 
 chines of war. Part of bis fleet landed at Utica, 
 and part at Carthage : immediately after which 
 7000 of the enemy came over to him ; and he had 
 brought with him six legions complete. 
 
 On his arrival he met with a whimsical ad- 
 venture. Some of his soldiers, it seems, found 
 a treasure, and shared considerable sums. The 
 thing getting air, the rest of the troops con- 
 cluded, that the place was full of money, which 
 the Carthaginians had hid there in some time of 
 public distress. Pompey. therefore, could make 
 no use of them for several days, as they were 
 searching for treasures ; and he had nothing to 
 do but walk about and amuse himself with the 
 sight of so many thousands digging and turning 
 up the ground. At last, they gave up the point, 
 and bade him lead them wherever he pleased, 
 for they were sufficiently punished for their 
 folly. 
 
 Domitius advanced to meet him, and put his 
 
 * The same who wrote an account of the 
 Spanish war. He was also a biographer ; but 
 his works of that kind are lost. He was mean 
 enough to \\Tite a treatise to show that Caesario 
 was not the son of Caesar. 
 
430 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 troops in order of battle. There happened to 
 be a channel between them, craggy and difficult 
 to pass. In the morning it began, moreover, to 
 rain, and the wind blew violently; insomuch 
 that Domitius, not imagining there would be 
 any action that day, ordered his army to retire. 
 But Pompey looked upon this as his opportunity, 
 and he passed the defile with the utmost expe- 
 dition. The enemy stood upon their defence, 
 but it was» in a disorderly and tumultuous 
 manner, and the resistance they made was 
 neither general nor uniform. Besides, the wind 
 and rain beat in their faces. The storm incom- 
 moded the Romans, too, for they could not well 
 distinguish each other. Nay, Pompey himself 
 was in danger of being killed by a soldier, who 
 asked him the word, and received not a speedy 
 answer. At length, however, he routed the 
 enemy with great slaughter; not above 3000 of 
 them escaping out of 20,000. The soldiers then 
 saluted Fom-^Qy Imperatory but he said he would 
 not accept that title while the enemy’s camp 
 stood untouched ; therefore, if they chose to 
 confer such an honour upon him, they must 
 first make themselves masters of the intrench- 
 men ts. 
 
 At that instant they advanced with great fury 
 against them. Pompey fought without his hel- 
 met, for fear of such an accident as he had just 
 escaped. The camp was taken, and Domitius 
 slain ; in consequence of which most of the cities 
 immediately submitted, and the rest were taken 
 by assault. He took Jarbas, one of the con- 
 federates of Domitius, prisoner, and bestowed 
 his crown on Hiempsal. Advancing with the 
 same tide of fortune, and while his army had 
 all the spirits inspired by success, he entered 
 Numidia, in which he continued his march for 
 several days, and subdued all that came in his 
 way. Thus he revived the terror of the Roman 
 name, which the barbarians had begun to dis- 
 regard. Nay, he chose not to leave the savage 
 beasts in the deserts without giving them a 
 specimen of the Roman valour and success. 
 Accordingly he spent a few days in hunting lions 
 and elephants. The whole time he passed in 
 Africa, they tell us, was not above forty days ; 
 in which he defeated the enemy, reduced the 
 whole country, and brought the affairs of its 
 kings under proper regulations, though he was 
 only in his twenty-fourth year. 
 
 Upon his return to Utica, he received letters 
 from Sylla, in which he was ordered to send 
 home the rest of his army, and to wait there 
 with one legion only for a successor. This gave 
 him a great deal of uneasiness, which he kept to 
 himself, but the army expressed their indignation 
 aloud ; insomuch that when he entreated them 
 to return to Italy, they launched out into abusive 
 terms against Sylla, and declared they would 
 never abandon Pompey, or suffer him to trust a 
 tyrant. At first he endeavoured to pacify them 
 with mild representations : and when he found 
 those had no effect, he descended from the 
 tribunal, and retired to his tent in tears. How- 
 ever, they went and took him thence, and placed 
 him again upon the tribunal, where they spent 
 great part of the day ; they insisting that he 
 should stay and keep the command, and he in 
 persuading them to obey Sylla's orders, and to 
 form no new faction. At last, seeing no end of 
 their clamours and importunity, he assured them, 
 
 with an oath, that he would kill himself, if they 
 attempted to force him. And even this hardly 
 brought them to desist. 
 
 The first news that Sylla heard was, that 
 Pompey had revolted ; upon which he said to his 
 his friends, “Then it is my fate to have to con- 
 tend with boys in my old age." This he said, 
 because Marius, who was very young, had 
 brought him into so much trouble and danger. 
 But when he received true information of the 
 affair, and observed that all the people flocked 
 out to receive him, and to conduct him home 
 with marks of great regard, he resolved to ex- 
 ceed them in his regards, if possible. He, there- 
 fore, hastened to meet him, and embracing him 
 in the most affectionate manner, saluted him aloud 
 by the surname of MagmiSy or the Great: at 
 the same time he ordered all about him to give 
 him the same appellation. Others say, it w'as 
 given him by the whole army in Africa, but did 
 not generally obtain till it was authorized by 
 Sylla. It is certain, he was the last to take it 
 himself, and he did not make use of it till a long 
 time after, when he was sent into Spain with the 
 dignity of pro-consul against Sertorius. Then 
 he began to write himself in his letters and in 
 all his edicts, Pompey the Great; for the world 
 was accustomed to the name, and it was no 
 longer invidious. In this respect we may justly 
 admire the wisdom of the ancient Romans, who 
 bestowed on their great men such honourable 
 names and titles, not only for military achieve- 
 ments, but for the great qualities and arts which 
 adorn civil life. Thus the people gave the sur- 
 name of Maxiimis to Valerius,* for reconciling 
 them to the senate after a viol nt dissension, and 
 to Fabius Rullus for expelling some persons 
 descended of enfranchised slaves,! who had been 
 admitted into the senate on account of their 
 opulent fortunes. 
 
 When Pompey arrived at Rome, he demanded 
 a triumph, in which he was opposed by Sylla. 
 The latter alleged that the laws did not allow 
 that honour to any person who was not either 
 consul or praetor. J Hence it was that the first 
 Scipio, when he returned victorious from greater 
 wars and conflicts with the Carthaginians in 
 Spain, did not demand a triumph ; for he was 
 neither consul nor praetor. He added, that if 
 Pompey, who was yet little better than a beard- 
 less youth, and who was not of age to be ad- 
 mitted into the senate, should enter the city 
 in triumph, it would bring an odium both upon 
 the dictator’s power, and those honours of his 
 friend. These arguments Sylla insisted on, to 
 show him he would not allow of his triumph, 
 
 * This was Marcus Valerius, the brother of 
 Valerius Publicola, who was dictator. 
 
 t It was not his expelling the descendants of 
 enfranchised slaves the senate, nor yet his 
 glorious victories, which procured Fabius the 
 surname of Maximus ; but his reducing the 
 populace of Rome into four tribes, who before 
 were dispersed among all the tribes, and by that 
 means had too much influence in elections and 
 other public affairs. These were called tribus 
 urbance. Liv. ix. 46. 
 
 t Livy (Lib. xxxi.) tells us, the senate refused 
 L. Cornelius Lentulus a triumph, for the same 
 reason, though they thought his achievements 
 worthy of that honour. 
 
 1 
 
POMPEY, 
 
 and that, in case be persisted, he would chasthe 
 his obstinacy. 
 
 Pompey, not in the least intimidated, i>ade him 
 consider^ that more worshipf>ed the rising than 
 , the setung sun ; intimating that his power was 
 j Uncasing, and Sylla's upon the decline. Sylla 
 not well hear what he said, but perceiving by 
 I the looks and gestures of the company that they 
 were struck with the e;ipr^sion, be asked what it 
 was. When he was told it, he admired the spirit 
 of Pompey, and cried, “ Let him triumph ! Let 
 him triumph ! " 
 
 ^ Pompey peredved a strong spirit of envy 
 and jealousy on this occasion, it is said, that to 
 morti y those who gave in to it the more, he 
 resolved to have his chari^>t drawn by four 
 elephants; for he had brought a number from 
 Africa, which he had taken from the kings of thkt 
 country. But finding the gate too narrow, he 
 gave up that design, and contented himself with 
 hors^. 
 
 His soldiers, not havinj^ obtained all they 
 «fpected, were inclined to disturb the procession ; 
 ^t he took no pains to satisfy them : he said, 
 he had rather give up his triumph than submit 
 to flatter them. Whereupon Servilius, one of 
 the most conside^hle men in Rome, and one who 
 had been most vigorous in oj-^/sing the triumph, 
 declared, he now found JPomi>ey really /Ae 
 Great, and worthv of a triumph. 
 
 There is no doubt that he might then have been 
 easily admitted a senator, if he had desired it ; 
 but his ambition was to pursue honour in a more 
 uncommon track. It would have been nothing 
 strai^e, if Pompey been a senator before the 
 ^e fixed for it ; but it was a very extraordinary 
 instance of honour to lead up a triumph before 
 he w« a senator. And it contributed not a little ! 
 to gain him the affections of the multitude ; the 
 p^ple w<^ delighted to sec him, after his 
 triumph, class with the equestrian order. 
 
 Sylla was not ^hout uneasiness at finding him 
 advance so fwi in reputation and power ; yet he 
 ^uld not think of preventing it, till with a high 
 hand and entirely against his will, Pompey 
 raised Lepidus * to the consulship, by assisting 
 him with all his interest in the election. ITien 
 
 431 
 
 A \ pt'^tctions were verified soon after his 
 u^tn. L^jidos yf anted to u« irp the authority of 
 a dictator ; and h:% proceedings were not indirect, 
 fn v^Icd with specious pretences. He imme^ 
 
 I dmPrIy took up arms, and assembled the dis- 
 I afterAed remains of the factions which Sylla couJd 
 not entjrdy suppress. As for his colleague 
 Catulus, the uncorruj.ted part of the seriate arid 
 pe^nple were attached to him, and in p^jint of 
 piwlence and iustice, there was not a man in 
 Rome who had a greater character ; but he was 
 more able to direct the civil government than the 
 operations of war. This crisis, therefore, called 
 for P<>mpey, and he did not deJiterate which side 
 he sl^uld take. He joined the honest i>arty, and 
 WM declared general against I>cp«dus, who by 
 this time had reduced great part of Italy, and 
 was imster of Cisalpine Gaul, where Bnituf 
 act^ for him with a considerable force. 
 
 When Pompey to<jk tlie field, be easily made 
 his way m other parts, but he lay a long time 
 ^ore Mutina, which was defended by Brutus. 
 M^nv/hile Lejudus advanced by hasty marches 
 to Rome, and sitting down h.fore it, demanded a 
 «ecojid consulship. The inhabitants were greatly 
 a^rmed at his numbers; but tlicir fears were 
 dissipated by a lett^ from Pompey, in which he 
 ited the 
 
 1 *u iiie ciccnon. men 
 
 I bylla »emg him conducted home by the people, 
 j t/irough the /arum, thus addressed n.ra : ‘‘ I see, 
 
 I young man, you are proud of your victory. And 
 , undoubtedly it was a great and extraordinary 
 thing, ^ your management of the people, to 
 obtain for Lepidus, the worst man in Rome, the 
 return befwe Catulus, one of the vrorthiest and 
 I the best. But awake, I charge you, and be upon 
 your guard. For you have now made your ad- 
 versary stronger than yourself." 
 
 The displeasure Sylla entertained in his heart 
 against P^pey appeared most plainly by hi 
 wilL He left considerable legacies to his friends, 
 and appointed them guardians to his son, but he 
 nwer once mentioned Pompey. The- latter, no:- 
 wit^tanding, bore this with great temper and 
 mod^ion ; and when Lepidus and others cp- 
 L buned in the Campus Martius 
 
 and his having the honours of a public funeral' 
 nc *****TJ^»®^^ and by his presence not only 
 secured, but di d honour to the procession. 
 
 * ^rcus itmilius Lepidus, who by Pompey’s 
 inter^ was declared consul with Q. Lu£3us 
 Catulus, ID the year of Rome 675. , 
 
 assured them he terTninate<l tiie war withc^t 
 striki^ a blow. For Brutus, whether lie he- 
 tray^ his ai^, or they betrayed him, surren- 
 himwilf to Pompey ; and having a party 
 of horse given him as an escort, retired to a little 
 town upon the Po. Pomjjey, however, sent 
 Gemimus the next day to despatch him; which 
 brought no small stain upon his character. Im- 
 mediately after : Brutus came ov^ to him, he Iiad 
 informed the senate by letter, it was a measure 
 that general had voluntarily adopted ; and yet on 
 the morrow he put him to death, and wrote other 
 containing hca<yy charges against him. 
 ITiw was the father of that iirutus, who, together 
 with C^sius, 'Jew Ciesar. But the son dSi not 
 resemble the lather, either in war or in his death 
 M am>ears from the life we have given of hiim 
 Lepjdiw, being soon driven out of Italy, fled into 
 bardima, where he died of grief, not in conse- 
 quence of the ruin of his affairs, but of meeting 
 With a billet (as we are told), by which he dis- 
 covered that his wife had dishonoured his 
 bed. 
 
 At that time, Scitmus, an off cer vejy different 
 from Lepidus, was in posses^sion of bpain, and 
 not a little formidable to Rome itself; all the 
 remains of the civil wars being collected in Idm, 
 just as in a dangerous disease all t^ vicious 
 j humours flow to a distempered part. He bad 
 already defeated several generals of less distinc- 
 tion, and he was then engaged with ^letellus 
 Pius^ a man of great characier in general, anr| 
 particularly in war ; but age seemed to have 
 abated tlm vigour which is necessary for seizing 
 and making the best advantage of critical occa- 
 sions. On the otlier hand, nothing could exceed j 
 the ardour and expedition with which Sertorius 
 snatehed those opportunities from him. He 
 on in the most danng manner, and more like a 
 captain of a banditti than a commander of regular 
 forces; annoying with ambuscades, and other 
 unforeseen alarms, a cliampion wlio proceeded by 
 the common rules, and whose skill lay in the ■ 
 manage^nt of heavy-armed forces. I 
 
 At this juncture, Poroj>ey, having an army j 
 
432 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 without employment, endeavoured to prevail with 
 the senate to send him to the assistance of 
 hletellus. Meantime, Catulus ordered him to 
 disband his forces ; but he found various pre- 
 tences for remaining in arms in the neighbourhood 
 of Rome ; till at last, upon the motion of Lucius 
 Philippas, he obtained the command he wanted. 
 
 On this occasion, we are told, one of the senatop, 
 somewhat surprised at the motion, asked him 
 who made it, whether his meaning was to send 
 out Pompey \J>ro consule'] as the representative 
 of a consul? “No,” answered he, “but {pro 
 co7isidihus\ as the representative of both consuls ; ” 
 intimating by this the incapacity of the consuls of 
 that year. , . _ . 
 
 When Pompey^ arrived in Spam, new hopes 
 were excited, as is usual upon the appearance of 
 a new general of reputation ; and such of the 
 Spanish nation as were not very firmly attached 
 to Sertorius, began to change their opinions, and 
 to go over to the Romans. Sertorius then ex- 
 pressed himself in a very insolent and contemp- 
 tuous manner with respect to Pompey : he said, 
 he should want no other weapons than a rod 
 and ferula to chastise the boy with, were it not 
 that he feared the old woman ; meaning 
 hletellus. But in fact it was Pompey he was 
 afraid of, and on his account he carried on his 
 operations with much greater caution. For 
 Lletellus gave in to a course of luxury and plea- 
 sure, which no one could have expected, and 
 changed the simplicity of a soldier s life for a life 
 of pomp and parade. Hence Pompey gained 
 additional honour and interest ; for he cultivated 
 plainness and frugality more than ever ; though 
 he had not, in that respect, much to correct in 
 himself, being naturally sober and regular in his 
 desires. 
 
 The war appeared in many forms ; but nothing 
 touched Pompey so nearly as the loss of Lauron, 
 which Sertorius took before his eyes. Pompey 
 thought he had blocked up the enemy, and spoke 
 of it in high terms, when suddenly he found him- 
 self surrounded, and being afraid to move, had 
 the mortification to see the city laid in ashes in 
 his presence. However, in an engagement near 
 Valencia, he defeated Herennius and Perpenna, 
 oiScers of considerable rank, who had taken part 
 with Sertorius, and acted as his lieutenants, and 
 killed above 10,000 of their men. 
 
 Elated with this advantage, he hastened to 
 attack Sertorius, that Metellus might have no 
 share in the victory. He found him near the 
 river Sucro, and they engaged near the close of 
 day. Both were afraid Metellus should come up ; 
 P.ompey wanting to fight alone, and Sertorius to 
 have but one general to fight with. The issue of 
 the battle was doubtful ; one wing in each army 
 being victorious. But of the two generals Ser- 
 torius gained the greatest honour, for he routed 
 the battalions that opposed him. As for Pompey, 
 he was attacked on horseback by one of the 
 enemy’s infantry, a man of uncomrnon size. 
 While they were close engaged with their swords, 
 the strokes happened to light on each other’s 
 hand, but with different success ; Pompey re- 
 ceived only a slight wound, and he lopped off 
 the other’s hand. Hungers then fell upon 
 Pompey, for his troops in that quarter were 
 already broken ; but he escaped beyond all ex- 
 pectation, by quitting his horse, with gold 
 trappings and other valuable furniture, to the 
 
 barbarians, who quarrelled and came to blows 
 about dividing the spoil. 
 
 Ne.xt morning, at break of day, both drew up 
 again, to give the finishing stroke to the victory, 
 to which both laid claim. But, upon Metellus 
 coming up, Sertorius retired, and his army dis- 
 persed. Nothing was more common than tor his 
 forces to disperse in that manner, and afterw.irds 
 to knit again ; so that Sertorius was often seen 
 wandering alone, and as often advancing again 
 at the head of 150,000 men, like a torrent swelled 
 with sudden rains. 
 
 After the battle, Pompey went to wait on 
 Metellus ; and upon approaching him, he ordered 
 his lictors to lower the fasces, by way of cqm- 
 pliment to Metellus, as his superior. But Metellus 
 would not suffer it ; and, indeed, in all, respects 
 he behaved to Pompey with great politeness, 
 taking nothing upon him on account of his con- 
 sular dignity, or his being the older man, except 
 to give the word, when they encamped together. 
 And very often they had separate camps ; for the 
 enemy, by his artful and various measures, by 
 making his appearance at different places almost 
 at the same instant, and by drawing them from 
 one action to another, oblige them to divide. He 
 cut off their provisions, he laid waste the country, 
 he made himself master of the sea ; the conse- 
 quence of which was, that they were both forced 
 to quit their own provinces, and go into those of 
 others for supplies. 
 
 Pompey, having exhausted most of his own 
 fortune in support of the war, applied to the senate 
 for money to pay the troops, declaring he would 
 return with his army to Italy, if they did not send it 
 him. Lucullus who was then consul, though he ^vas 
 upon ill terms with Pompey, took cpe to furnish 
 him with the money as soon as possible ; because 
 he wanted to be employed himself in the Mithri- 
 datic war, and he was afraid to give Pompey a 
 pretext to leave Sertorius, and to solicit the 
 command against Mithridates, which was a more- 
 honourable, and yet appeared a less difficult com- 
 mission. _ . j 1 i.- 
 
 Meantime Sertorius was assassinated by his 
 own officers;* and Perpenna, who was at the 
 head of the conspirators, undertook to supply his 
 place. He had, indeed, the same troops, the 
 same magazines and supplies, but he had not the 
 same understanding to make a proper use of them. 
 Pompey immediately took the field, and having 
 intelligence that Perpenna was greatly em- 
 barrassed as to the measures he should take, he 
 threw out ten cohorts as a bait for him, with 
 orders to spread themselves over the plain. When 
 he found it took, and that Perpenna was busied in 
 the pursuit of that handful of men, he suddenly 
 made his appearance with the mam body, attacked 
 the enemy, and routed him entirely. Most of the 
 officers fell in the battle ; Perpenna himself was 
 taken prisoner, and brought to Pompey, who 
 commanded him to be put to death. Nevertheless, 
 Pompey is not to be accused oL ingratitude, nor 
 are we to suppose him (as some will have it) for- 
 getful of the services he had received from that 
 officer in Sicily. On the contrary, he acted with 
 a wisdom and dignity of mind that proved very 
 salutary to the public. Perpenna having got the 
 papers of Sertorius into his hands, showed letters 
 
 * It was three years after the consulate of 
 Lucullus, that Sertorius was assassinated. 
 
POMPEY. 
 
 433 
 
 by which some of the most powerful men in Rome, 
 who were desirous to raise new commotions, and 
 overturn the establishment, had invited Sertorius 
 into Italy. But Pompey fearing those letters 
 might excite greater wars than that he was then 
 finishing, put Perpenna to death, and burned the 
 papers without reading them. He stayed just 
 long enough in Spain to compose the troubles, 
 and to remove such uneasiness as might tend to 
 break the peace ; after which he marched back to 
 Italy, where he arrived, as fortune would have it, 
 when the Servile war was at the height. 
 
 Crassus, who had the command in that war, 
 upon the arrival of Pompey, v/ho, he feared, 
 might snatch the laurels out of his band, resolved 
 to come to battle, however hazardous it might 
 prove. He succeeded, and killed 12,300 of the 
 enemy. Yet fortune, in some sort, inter weaved 
 this with the honours of Pompey ; for he killed 
 5000 of the slaves, whom he fell in with as they 
 fled after the battle. Immediately upon this, to 
 be beforehand with Crassus, he wrote to the 
 senate, that Crassus had beaten the gladiators in 
 a pitched battle, but that it was he who had cut 
 up the war by the roots. The Romans took a 
 pleasure in speaking of this one among another, 
 on account of their regard for Pompey; which 
 was_ such, that no part of the success in Spain, 
 against Sertorius, was ascribed by a man of them, 
 either in jest or earnest, to any but Pompey. 
 
 Yet these honours and this high veneration for 
 the man, were mixed with some fears and 
 jealousies that he would not disband his army, 
 but, treading in the steps of Sylla, raise himself 
 by the sword to sovereign power, and maintain 
 himself in it, as Sylla had done.* Hence the 
 number of those that went out of fear to meet 
 him, and congratulate him on his return, was 
 .equal to that of those who went out of love. But 
 when he had removed this suspicion, by declaring 
 that he would dismiss his troops immediately 
 after the triumph, there remained only one more 
 subject for envious tongues ; which was, that he 
 paid more attention to the commons than to the 
 senate ; and whereas Sylla had destroyed the 
 authority of the tribunes, he was determined to 
 re-establish it,^ in order to gain the affections of 
 the people. This was true : for there never was 
 anything they had so much set their hearts upon, 
 or longed for so extravagantly, as to see the 
 tribunitial power put in their hands again. So 
 that Pompey looked upon it as a peculiar happi- 
 ness, that he had an opportunity to bring that 
 
 * Cicero, in his epistles to Atticus, says, Pom- 
 pey made but little secret of this unjustifiable 
 ambition. The passa .es are remarkable. Mi- 
 randttm enhn in 7 nodm 7 i Cneiuz noster Sylla7ii 
 repti similitudine 77 i concupivit : E«5o)? (tol Ae^oj, 
 nihtl ille U 7 iqua 77 t 7 nmus obscure tulii. Lib. 
 vii. ep. 9. “ Our friend Pompey is wonderfully 
 
 desirous of obtaining a power like that of Sylla ; 
 
 I tell you no more than what I know, for he 
 makes no secret of it.” And again. Hoc turpe 
 C nems noster bie 7 inio ante cogitavit ; ita Sylla 
 tnlit anhmis ejus^etproscripturit. Ibid. ep. xo. 
 
 “ Pompey has been forming this infamous design 
 for these two years past ; so strongly is he bent 
 ^on imitating Sylla, and proscribing like him.” 
 Hence we see how happy it was for Rome, that 
 in the civil wars, Cassar, and not Pompey, proved 
 the conqueror. 
 
 affair about ; knowing, that if any one should be 
 beforehand with him in this design, he should 
 never find any means of making so agreeable a 
 return for the kind regards of the people. 
 
 A second triumph was decreed him,* together 
 with the consulship. But these were not con- 
 sidered as the most extraordinary instances of 
 his power. The strongest proof of his greatness 
 was, that Crassus, the richest, the most eloquent, 
 and most powerful man in the administration, 
 who used to look down upon Pompey and all 
 the world, did not venture to solicit the consul- 
 ship without first asking Pompey’s leave. Poni- 
 pey, who had long wished for an opportunity to 
 lay an obligation upon him, received the appli- 
 cation with pleasure, and made great interest 
 with the people in his behalf ; declaring he 
 should take their giving him Crassus for a col- 
 league as kindly as their favour to himself. 
 
 _Yet when they were elected consuls, they 
 disagreed in everything, and were embroiled in 
 all their measures. Crassus had most interest 
 with the senate, and Pompey with the people. 
 F or he had restored them the tribunitial power, 
 and had suffered a law to be made, that judges 
 should again be appointed out of the equestrian 
 order.! However, the most agreeable spectacle 
 of all to the people was Pompey himself, when 
 he went to claim his- exemption from serving in 
 the wars. It was the custom for a Roman 
 knight, when he had served the time ordered by 
 law, to lead his horse into the forum, before the 
 two magistrates called censors ; and after having 
 given account of the generals and other officers 
 under whom he had made his campaigns, and of 
 his own actions in them, to demand his dis- 
 charge. On these occasions they received proper 
 marks of honour or disgrace, according to their 
 behaviour. 
 
 Gellius and Lentulus were then censors, and 
 had taken their seats in a manner that became 
 their dignity, to review the whole equestrian 
 order, when Pompey was seen at a distance with 
 all the badges of his office, as consul, leading his 
 horse by the bridle. As soon as he was near 
 enough to be observed by the censors, he ordered 
 his lictqrs to make an opening, and advanced, 
 with his horse in hand, to the front of the 
 tribunal. The people were struck with admira- 
 tion, and a profound silence took place ; at the 
 same time a joy, mingled with reverence, was 
 visible in the countenances of the censors. The 
 senior censor then addressed him as follows: 
 
 “ Pompey the Great, I demand of you, whether 
 you have served all the campaigns required by 
 law?” He answered, with a loud voice, “I 
 have served them all ; and all under myself, as 
 general.” The people were so charmed with this 
 answer, that there was no end of their acclama- 
 tions. At last, the censors rose up, and con- 
 
 * He triumphed towards the end of the year 
 of Rome 682, and at the same time was declared 
 consul for the year ensuing. This was a peculiar 
 honour, to gain the consulate without first bear- 
 ing the subordinate offices ; but his two triumphs, 
 and his great services, excused that deviation 
 from the common rules. 
 
 t L. Aurelius Cotta carried that point when he 
 was prsetor ; and Plutarch says again, because 
 Caius Gracchus had conveyed that privilege to 
 the knights fifty years before. 
 
434 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 ducted Pompey to his house, to indulge the 
 multitude, who followed him with the loudest 
 plaudits. 
 
 When the end of the consulship approached, 
 and his difference with Crassus was increasing 
 daily, Caius Aurelius, a man who was of the 
 equestrian order, but had never intermeddled 
 with state affairs, one day, when the people were 
 met in full assembly, ascended the rostra., and 
 said Jupiter had appeared to him in a dream, 
 and commanded him to acquaint the consuls, 
 that they must take care to be reconciled before 
 they laid down their office. Pompey stood still, 
 and held his peace ; but Crassus went and gave 
 him his hand, and saluted him in a friendly 
 manner. At the same time he addressed the people 
 as follows : “ I think, my fellow-citizens, there is 
 nothing dishonourable or mean in making the 
 first advances to Pompey, whom you scrupled 
 not to dignify with the name of the Gteat, when 
 he was yet but a beardless youth, and for whom 
 you voted two triumphs before he was a sena- 
 tor.” Thus reconciled, they laid down the con- 
 sulship. 
 
 Crassus continued his former manner of life ; 
 but Pompey now seldom chose to plead the 
 causes of those that applied to him, and by 
 degrees he left the bar. Indeed, he seldom 
 appeared in public, and when he did, it was 
 always with a: great train of friends and at- 
 tendants ; so that it was not easy either to speak 
 to him or see him, but in the midst of a crowd. 
 He took pleasure in having a number of re- 
 tainers about him, because he_ thought it gave 
 him an air of greatness and majesty, and he was 
 persuaded that dignity should be kept from being 
 soiled by the. familiarity, and indeed by the very 
 touch of the many. For those who are raised to 
 greatness by arms, and know not how to descend 
 again to the equality required in a republic, are 
 very liable to fall into contempt when they re- 
 sume the robe of peace. The soldier is desirous 
 to preserve the rank in the forum whicK he had 
 in the field ; and he who cannot distinguish him- 
 self in the field, thinks it intolerable to give place 
 in the administration too. When therefore the 
 latter has got the man who shone in camps and 
 triumphs into the assemblies at home, and finds 
 him attempting to maintain the same pre- 
 eminence there, of course he endeavours to 
 humble him ; whereas, if the warrior pretends 
 not to take the lead in domestic councils, he is 
 readily allowed the palm of military glory. This 
 soon appeared from the subsequent events. ^ 
 
 The power of the pirates had its foundation in 
 Cilicia. Their progress was the more dangerous, 
 because at first it was little taken notice of. In 
 the Mithridatic war they assumed new confidence 
 and courage, on account of some services they 
 had rendered the king. After this, the Romans 
 being engaged in civil wars at the very gates of 
 their capital, the sea was left unguarded, and 
 the pirates by degrees attempted higher things ; 
 they not only attacked ships, but islands, and 
 maritime towns. Many persons, distinguished 
 for their wealth, their birth, and their capacity, 
 embarked with them, and assisted in their de- 
 predations,' as if their employment had been 
 worthy the ambition of men of honbur. They 
 had in various places arsenals, ports, and watch- 
 
 * Ovatius Aurelius. 
 
 towers, all strongly fortified. Their fleets were 
 not only extremely well manned, supplied with 
 skilful pilots, and fitted for their business by 
 their lightness and celerity ; but there was a 
 parade of vanity about them more mortifying 
 than their strength, in gilded sterns, purple 
 canopies, and plated oars ; as if they took a 
 pride and triumphed in their villainy. Music 
 resounded, and drunken revels were exhibited 
 on every coast. Here generals were made pri- 
 soners ; there the cities the pirates had taken 
 were paying their ransom ; all to the great dis- 
 grace of the Roman power. The number of their 
 galleys amounted to looo, and the cities they 
 were masters of to 400. 
 
 Temples, which had stood inviolably sacred 
 till that time, they plundered. They ruined the 
 temple of Apollo at Claros, that, where he was 
 worshipped, under the title of Didymseus,* * * § that 
 of the Cabiri in Samothrace, that of Ceres f at 
 Hermione, that of iEsculapius at Epidaurus, 
 those of Neptune in the Isthmus, at Tsenarus 
 and in Calauria, those of Apollo at Actium and 
 in the isle of Leucas, those of Juno at Samos, 
 Argos, and the promontory of Lacinium.J 
 
 They likewise offered strange sacrifices ; those 
 of Olympus I mean ; § and they celebrated cer- 
 tain secret mysteries, among which those of 
 Mithra continue to this day,H being originally 
 instituted by them. They not only insulted the 
 Romans at sea but infested the great roads, and 
 plundered the villas near the coast : they carried 
 off Sextilius and Bellinus, two praetors, in their 
 purple robes, with all their servants and lictors. 
 They seized the daughter of Antony, a man who 
 had been honoured with a triumph, as she was 
 going to her country house, and he was forced to 
 pay a large ransom for her. 
 
 But the most contemptuous circumstance of 
 all was, that when they had taken a prisoner, 
 and he cried out that he was a Roman, and told 
 them his name, they pretended to be struck with 
 terror, smote their thighs, and fell upon their 
 knees to ask him pardon. The poor man, seeing 
 them thus humble themselves before him, thought 
 them in earnest, and said he would forgive them ; 
 for some were so officious as to put on his shoes, 
 and others to help him on with his gown, that 
 
 * So called from Didme, in the territories of 
 Miletus. 
 
 t Pausanias (in Laconic.), tells us the Lacedae- 
 monians worship Ceres under the_ name of 
 Chthonia: and (in Corinthiac.), he gives us the 
 reason of her having that name. “ The Argives 
 say, that Chthonia, the daughter of Colontas, 
 having been saved out of a conflagration by 
 Ceres, and conveyed to Hermione, built a temple 
 to that goddess, who was v/orshipped there under 
 the name of Chthonia.” 
 
 X The printed text gives us the erroneous read- 
 ing of L,eucatiiu 7 n, but two manuscripts give us 
 Lacinhim. Livy often mentions Juno Lacima, 
 
 § Not on Mount Olympus, but in the city of 
 Olympus, near Phaselis in Pamphylia, which 
 was one of the receptacles of the pirates. What 
 sort of sacrifices they used to offer there is not 
 known. 
 
 !1 According to Herodotus, the Persians wor- 
 shipped Venus under the name of Mithres, or 
 Mithra; but the sun is worshipped in that 
 country. 
 
POMPEY, 
 
 435 
 
 his quality might no more be mistaken. When 
 they had carried on this farce, and enjoyed it 
 for some time, they let a ladder down into the 
 sea, and bade him go in peace ; and, if he re- 
 fused to do it, they pushed him off the deck, and 
 drowned him. 
 
 Their power extended over the whole Tuscan 
 sea, so that the Romans found their trade and 
 navigation entirely cut off. The consequence of 
 which was, that their markets were not supplied, 
 and they had reason to apprehend a famine. 
 This, at last, put them upon sending Pompey to 
 clear the sea of pirates. Gabinius, one of Pom- 
 pey ’s intimate friends, proposed the decree,* 
 which created him not admiral, but monarch, 
 and invested him with absolute, power. The 
 decree gave him the empire of the sea as far as 
 the pillars of Hercules, and of the land for 400 
 furlongs from the coasts. There were few parts 
 of the Roman empire which this commission did 
 not take in ; and the most considerable of the 
 barbarous nations, and most powerful kings, 
 were moreover comprehended in it. Besides 
 this, he was empowered to choose out of the 
 senators fifteen lieutenants, to act under him in 
 such districts, and with such authority as he 
 should appoint. He was to take from the 
 quaestors, and other public receivers, what 
 money he pleased, and equip a fleet of 200 sail. 
 Ihe number of marine forces, of mariners and 
 rowers, were left entirely to his discretion. 
 
 When this decree was read in the assembly, 
 the people received it with inconceivable pleasure. 
 The most respectable part of the senate saw, 
 indeed, that such an absolute and unlimited 
 power was above envy, but they considered it 
 as a real object of fear. They therefore all, 
 except Csesar, opposed its passing into a law. 
 He was for it, not out of regard for Pompey, but 
 to insinuate himself into the good graces of the 
 people, which he had long been courting. The 
 rest were very severe in their expressions against 
 Pompey : and one of the consuls venturing to 
 say,t “IJhe imitates Romulus, he will not escape 
 his fate,” was in danger of being pulled in pieces 
 by the populace. 
 
 It is true, when Catulus rose up to speak 
 against the law, out of reverence for his person 
 they listened to him with great attention. After 
 he had freely given Pompey the honour that was 
 his due, and said much in his praise, he advised 
 them to spare him, and not to expose such a man 
 to so many dangers ; “ for where will you find 
 another,” said he, ‘‘if you lose him?” They 
 answered with one voice, “Yourself.” Finding 
 his arguments had no effect, he retired. Then 
 Roscius mounted the rostrum, but not a man 
 would give ear to him. However he made signs 
 to them with his fingers, that they should not 
 appoint Pompey alone, but give him a colleague. 
 Incensed at the proposal, they set up such a shout, 
 that a crow, which was flying over the forum. 
 
 -n? ^ade in the year of Rome 686. 
 
 Ine crafty tribune, when he proposed it, did not 
 name Pompey. Pompey was now in the thirty- 
 ninth year of his age. His friend, Gabinius, as 
 charaaer^^°”^ Cicero, was a man of infamous 
 
 Pi^tlS'lGlabrio. 
 
 was stunned with the force of it, and fell down 
 among the crowd. Hence we may conclude, 
 that when birds fall on such occasions, it is not 
 because the air is so divided with the shock as to 
 leave a vacuum, but rather because the sound 
 strikes them like a blow, when it ascends with 
 such force, and produces so violent an agitation. 
 
 The assembly broke up that day, without 
 coming to any resolution. . When the day came 
 that they were to give their suffrages, Pompey 
 retired into the country ; and, on receiving in- 
 formation that the decree was passed, he returned 
 to the city by night, to prevent the envy which 
 the multitudes of people coming to meet him 
 would have excited. Next morning at break of 
 day he made his appearance, and attended the 
 sacrifice. After which, he summoned an assembly, 
 and obtained a grant of almost as much more 
 as the first decree had given him. He was em- 
 powered to fit out 500 galleys, and to raise an 
 army of 120,000 foot, and 5000 horse. Twenty- 
 four senators were selected, who had all been 
 generals or pr^tors, and were appointed his 
 lieutenants ; and he had two quaestors given him. 
 As the price of provisions fell immediately, the 
 people were greatly pleased, and it gave them 
 occasion to say, the very name of Pompey had 
 terminated the war. 
 
 .^owever, in pursuance of his charge, he 
 divided the whole Mediterranean into thirteen 
 parts, appointing a lieutenant for each, and as- 
 signing him a squadron. By thus stationing his 
 fleets in all quarters, he enclosed the pirates as 
 It were in a net, took great numbers of them, 
 and brought them into harbour. Such of their 
 vessels as had dispersed and made off in time, or 
 could escape the general chase, retired to Cilicia, 
 like so many bees into a hive. Against these he 
 proposed to go himself with sixty of his best 
 galleys ; but first he resolved to clear the Tuscan 
 sea, and the coasts of Africa, Sardinia, Corsica, 
 and Sicily,^ of all piratical adventurers ; which 
 he effected in forty days, by his own indefatigable 
 endeavours and those of his lieutenants. But, as 
 the consul Piso was indulging his malignity at 
 home, in wasting his stores and discharging his 
 seamen, he sent his fleet round to Brundusium, 
 and went himself by land through Tuscany to 
 Rome. 
 
 As soon as the people were informed of his 
 approach, they went in crowds to receive him, 
 in the same manner as they had done a few days 
 before, to conduct him on his way. Their ex- 
 traordinary joy was owing to the speed with 
 which he had executed his commission, so far 
 beyond all expectation, and to the superabundant 
 plenty which reigned in the markets. For this 
 reason Piso was in danger of being deposed from 
 the consulship, and Gabinius had a decree ready 
 drawn up for that purpose; but Pompey would 
 not suffer him to propose it. On the contrary, 
 his speech to the people was full of candour and 
 moderation ; and when he had provided such 
 things as he wanted, he went to Brundusium, 
 and put to sea again. Though he was straight- 
 ened for time, and in his haste sailed by many 
 cities without calling, yet he stopped at Athens. 
 He entered the town and sacrificed to the gods ; 
 after which he addressed the people, and then 
 prepared to reimbark immediately. As he went 
 out of the gate he observed two inscriptions, each 
 comprised in one line. 
 
436 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 That within the gate was — 
 
 But know thyself a man, and be a god. 
 
 That without— 
 
 We wish’d, we saw ; we loved, and we adored. 
 
 Some of the pirates, who yet traversed the 
 seas, made their submission ; and as he treated 
 them in a humane manner, when he had them 
 and their ships in his power, others entertained 
 hopes of mercy, and avoiding the other officers, 
 surrendered themselves to Pompey, together with 
 their wives and children. He spared them all ; 
 and it was principally by their means that he 
 found out and took a number who were guilty 
 of unpardonable crimes, and therefore had con- 
 cealed themselves. 
 
 Still, however, there remained a great number, 
 and indeed the most powerful part of these cor- 
 sairs, who sent their families, treasures, and all 
 useless hands, into castles and fortified towns 
 upon Mount Taurus. Then they manned their 
 ships, and waited for Pompey at Coracesium, in 
 Cilicia. A battle ensued, and the pirates were 
 defeated ; after which they retired into the fort. 
 But they had not been long besieged before they 
 capitulated, and surrendered themselves, together 
 with the cities and islands which they had con- 
 quered and fortified, and which by their works, 
 as well as situation, were almost impregnable. 
 Thus the war was finished, and the whole force 
 of the pirates destroyed, within three months at 
 the farthest. 
 
 Beside the other vessels, Pompey took ninety 
 ships with beaks of brass ; and the prisoners 
 amounted to 20,000. He did not choose to put 
 them to death, and at the same time he thought 
 it wrong to suffer them to disperse, because they 
 were not only numerous, but warlike and neces- 
 sitous, and therefore would probably knit again 
 and give future trouble. He reflected, that man 
 by nature is neither a savage nor an unsocial 
 creature ; and when he becomes so, it is by vices 
 contrary to nature ; yet even then he may be 
 humanized by changing his place of abode, and 
 accustoming him to a new manner of life ; as 
 beasts that are naturally wild put off their fierce- 
 ness, when they are kept in a domestic way. 
 For this reason he determined to remove the 
 pirates to a great distance from the sea, and 
 bring them to taste the sweets of civil life, by 
 living in cities, and by the culture of the ground. 
 He placed some of them in the little towns of 
 Cilicia, which were almost desolate, and which 
 received them with pleasure, because at the same 
 time he gave them an additional proportion of 
 lands. He repaired the city of Soli,* which had 
 lately been dismantled and deprived of its in- 
 habitants by Tigranes, king of Armenia, and 
 peopled it with a number of these corsairs. The 
 remainder, which was a considerable body, he 
 planted in Dyma, a city of Achaia, which, though 
 it had a large and fruitful territory, was in want 
 of inhabitants. 
 
 Such as looked upon Pompey with envy found 
 fault with these proceedings ; but his conduct 
 with respect to Metellus in Crete was not agree- 
 able to his best friends. This was a relation of 
 that Metellus who commanded in conjunction 
 with Pompey in Spain, and he had been sent into 
 
 * He called it after his own name Pompeiopolis. 
 
 Crete some time before Pompey was employed in 
 this war. For Crete was the second nursery 
 of pirates after Cilicia. Metellus had destroyed 
 many nests of them there, and the remainder, 
 who were besieged by him at this time, addressed 
 themselves to Pompey as suppliants, and invited 
 him into the island, as included in his commis- 
 sion, and falling within the distance he had a 
 right to carry his arms from the sea. He listened 
 to their application, and by letter enjoined Me- 
 tellus to take no farther steps in the war. At 
 the same time he ordered the cities of Crete not 
 to obey Metellus, but Lucius Octavius, one of 
 his own lieutenants, whom he sent to take the 
 command. 
 
 Octavius went in among the besieged, and 
 fought on their side ; a circumstance which ren- 
 dered Pompey not only odious, but ridiculous. 
 For what could be more absurd than to suffer 
 himself to be so blinded by his envy and jealousy 
 of Metellus as to lend his name and authority to 
 a crew of profligate wretches, to be used as a 
 kind of amulet to defend them. Achilles was 
 not thought to behave like a man, but like a 
 frantic youth carried away by an extravagant 
 passion for fame, when he made signs to his 
 troops not to touch Hector — 
 
 Lest some strong arm should snatch the glorious 
 prize 
 
 Before Pelides. 
 
 But Pompey fought for the common enemies of 
 mankind, in order to deprive a praetor, who was 
 labouring to destroy them, of the honours of a 
 triumph. Metellus, however, pursued his opera- 
 tions till he took the pirates, and put them all to 
 death. As for Octavius, he exposed him in the 
 camp as an object of contempt, and loaded him 
 with reproaches, after which he dismissed him. 
 
 When news was brought to Rome, that the war 
 with the pirates was finished, and that Pompey 
 was bestowing his leisure upon visiting the cities, 
 Manilius, one of the tribunes of the people, pro- 
 posed a decree, which gave him all the provinces 
 and forces under the command of Lucullus, add- 
 ing likewise Bithynia, which was then governed 
 by Glabrio. It directed him to carry on the 
 war against Mithridates and Tigranes ; for which 
 purpose he was also to retain his naval com- 
 mand. This was subjecting at once the whole 
 Roman empire to one man. For, the provinces 
 which the former decree did not give him, 
 Phrygia, Lycaonia, Galatia, Cappadocia, Cilicia, 
 the Upper Colchis, and Armenia, were granted 
 by this, together with all the forces, which, 
 under Lucullus, had defeated Mithridates and 
 Tigranes. 
 
 By this law, Lucullus was deprived of the 
 honours he had dearly earned, and had a person 
 to succeed him in his triumph, rather than in the 
 war ; but that was not the thing which affec ted 
 the Patricians most. They were_ persuaded, 
 indeed, that Lucullus was treated with injustice 
 and ingratitude ; but it was a much more pain- 
 ful circumstance, to think of a power in the 
 hands of Pompey, which they could call nothing 
 but a tyranny.* They therefore exhorted and 
 
 * “We have then got at last,” said they, “a 
 sovereign ; the republic is changed into a mon- 
 archy ; the services of Lucullus, the honour of 
 Glabrio and Marcius, two zealous and worthy 
 
POMPEY. 
 
 437 
 
 encouraged each other to oppose the law, and 
 maintain their liberty. Yet when the time 
 came, their fear of the people prevailed, and no 
 one spoke on the occasion but Catulus. He 
 urged many arguments against the bill ; and 
 when he found they had no effect upon the 
 commons, he addressed himself to the senators, 
 and called upon them many times from the ros- 
 trum, to seek some mountain, as their ances- 
 tors had done, some rock whither they might fly 
 for the preservation of liberty. 
 
 We are told, however, that the bill was passed 
 by all the tribes,* and almost the same universal 
 authority conferred upon Pompey in his absence, 
 which Sylla did not gain but by the sword, and 
 by carrying war into the bowels of his country. 
 When Pompey received the letters which notified 
 his high promotion, and his friends, who hap- 
 pened to be by, congratulated him on the occa- 
 sion, he is said to have knit his brows, smote 
 his thigh, and expressed himself as if he was 
 already overburdened and wearied with the 
 weight of power : f “ Alas ! is there no end of 
 my conflicts ? How much better would it have 
 been to be one of the undistinguished many, than 
 to be perpetually engaged in war? Shall 1 never 
 be able to fly from envy to a rural retreat, to 
 domestic happiness, and conjugal endearments?” 
 Even his friends were unable to bear the dis- 
 simulation of this speech. They knew that the 
 flame of his native- ambition and lust of power 
 was blown up to a greater height by the difference 
 he had with Lucullus, and that he rejoiced the 
 more in the present preference, on that account. 
 
 His actions soon unmasked the man. He 
 caused public notice to be given in all places 
 within his commission, that the Roman troops 
 were to repair to him, as well as the kings and 
 princes their allies. Wherever he went, he 
 annulled the acts of Lucullus, remitting the fines 
 he had imposed, and taking away the rewards 
 he had given. In short, he omitted no means to 
 show the partisans of that general that all his 
 authority was gone. 
 
 Lucullus, of course, complained of this treat- 
 ment ; and their common friends were of opinion, 
 that it would be best for them to come to an 
 interview ; accordingly they met in Galatia. Ai 
 they had both given distinguished proofs of mili- 
 tary merit, the lictors had entwined the rods of 
 each with laurel. Lucullus had marched through 
 a country full of flourishing groves, but Pompey’s 
 route was dry and barren, without the ornament 
 or advantage of woods. His laurels, therefore, 
 were parched and withered ; which the servants 
 of Lucullus no sooner observed, than they freely 
 supplied them with fresh ones, and crowned his 
 fcisces with them. This seemed to be an omen 
 that Pompey would bear away the honours and 
 
 senators, are to be sacrificed to the promotion of 
 Pompey. Sylla never carried his tyranny so far.” 
 
 * Two great men spoke in favour of the law, 
 namely, Cicero and Caesar. The former aimed 
 at the consulate, which Pompey’s party could 
 easily procure him, than that of Catulus 
 and the senate. As for Caesar, he was delighted 
 to see the people insensibly lose that republican 
 spirit and love of liberty which might one day 
 obstruct the vast designs he had already formed. 
 
 T Is It possible to read this without recollecting 
 the similar character of our Richard the Third ? 
 
 I rewards of Lucullus’s victories. Lucullus had 
 : been consul before Pompey, and was the older 
 ' man ; but Pompey’s two triumphs gave him the 
 ! advantage m point of dignity. 
 
 Their interview had at first the face of great 
 politeness and civility. They began with mutual 
 compliments and congratulations ; but they soon 
 lost sight even of candour and moderation ; they 
 proceeded to abusive language ; Pompey re- 
 proaching Lucullus with avarice, and Lucullus 
 accusing Pompey of an insatiable lust of power ; 
 insomuch that their friends found it difficult to 
 prevent violence. After this, Lucullus gave his 
 friends and followers lands in Galatia, as a con- 
 quered country, and made other considerable 
 grants. But Pompey, who encamped at a little 
 distance from him, declared he would not suffer 
 his orders to be carried into execution, and 
 seduced all his soldiers, except 1600, who, he 
 knew, were so mutinous that they would be as 
 unserviceable to him as they had been ill-affected 
 to their old general. Nay, he scrupled not to 
 disparage the conduct of Lucullus, and to repre- 
 sent his actions in a despicable light. The 
 battles of Lucullus, he said, were only mock 
 battles, and he had fought with nothing but the 
 shadows of kings ; but that it was left for hmt 
 to contend with real strength and well disciplined 
 armies; since Mithridates had betaken himself 
 to swords and shields, and knew how to make 
 proper use of his cavalry. 
 
 On the other hand, Lucullus defended himself 
 by observing, that it was nothing new to Pompey 
 to fight with phantoms and shadows of war : for 
 like a dastardly bird, he had been accustomed to 
 prey upon those whom he had not killed, and 
 to tear the poor remains of a dying opposition. 
 Thus he had arrogated to himself the conquest 
 of Sertorius, of Lepidus, and Spartacus, which 
 originally belonged to Metellns, to Catulus, and 
 Crassus. Consequently, he did not wonder that 
 he was come to claim the honour of finishing the 
 wars of Armenia and Pontus, after he had thrust 
 himself into the triumph over the fugitive slaves. 
 
 In a little time Lucullus departed for Rome ; 
 and Pompey, having secured the sea from Phoe- 
 nicia to the Bosphorus, marched in quest of 
 Mithridates, who had an army of 30,000 foot and 
 2000 horse, but durst not stand an engagement. 
 That prince was in possession of a strong and 
 secure post upon a mountain, which he quitted 
 upon Pompey's approach, because it was desti- 
 tute of water. ^ Pompey encamped in the same 
 place ; and conjecturing, from the nature of the 
 plants and the crevices in the mountain, that 
 springs might be found, he ordered a number of 
 ^yells to be dug, and the camp was in a short 
 time plentifully supplied with water.* * He was 
 not a little surprised that this did not occur to 
 Mithridates during the whole time of his en- 
 campment there. 
 
 After this, Pompey followed him to his new 
 camp, and drew a line of circumvallation round 
 him. Mithridates stood a siege of forty-five 
 days, after which he found means to steal off 
 with his best troops, having first killed all the 
 sick, and such as could be of no service. Pom- 
 pey overtook him near the Euphrates, and en- 
 camped over against him ; but fearing he might 
 
 * Paulus iEmilius had done the same thing 
 long before in the Macedonian war. 
 
438 ' PLUTARCH^S LIVES, 
 
 pass the river unperceived, he drew out his troops 
 at midnight. At that time Mithridates is said to 
 have had a dream prefigurative of what was to 
 befall him. He thought he was upon the Pontic 
 sea, sailing with a favourable wind, and in sight 
 of the Bosphorus ; so that he felicitated his 
 friends in the ship, like a man perfectly safe, and 
 already in harbour. But suddenly he beheld 
 himself in the most destitute condition, swim- 
 ming upon a piece of wreck. While he was in 
 all the agitation which this dream produced, his 
 friends awaked him, and told him that Pompey 
 was at hand. He was now under a necessity of 
 fighting for his camp, and his generals drew up 
 the forces with all possible expedition. 
 
 Pompey seeing them prepared, was loath to 
 risk a battle in the dark. He thought it suffi- 
 cient to surround them, so as to prevent their 
 flight ; and what inclined him still more to wait 
 for daylight, was the consideration that his troops 
 were much better than the enemy’s. However, 
 the oldest of his officers entreated him to proceed 
 immediately to the attack, and at last prevailed. 
 It was not indeed very dark ; for the moon, 
 though near her setting, gave light enough to 
 distinguish objects. But it was a great disad- 
 vantage to the king’s troops, that the moon was 
 so low, and on the backs of the Romans ; be- 
 cause she projected their shadows so far before 
 them, that the enemy could form no just estimate 
 of the distances, but thinking them at hand, 
 threw their javelins before they could do the 
 least execution. 
 
 The Romans, perceiving their mistake, ad- 
 vanced to the charge with all the alarm of voices. 
 The enemy were in such a consternation, that they 
 made not the least stand, and, in their flight, vast 
 numbers were slain. They lost above 10,000 men, 
 and their camp was taken. As for Mithridates, 
 he broke through the Romans with 800 horse, in 
 the beginning of the engagement. That corps, 
 however, did not follow him far before they dis- 
 persed, and left him with only three of his people ; 
 one of which was his concubine Hypsicratia, a 
 woman of such a masculine and daring spirit, 
 that the king used to call her Hypsicrates. She 
 then rode a Persian horse, and was dressed in a 
 man’s habit, of the fashion of that nation. She 
 complained not in the least of the length of the 
 march ; and beside that fatigue, she waited on 
 the king, and took care of his horse, till they 
 reached the castle of Inora,* where the king’s 
 treasure, and his most valuable movables were 
 deposited. Mithridates took out thence many 
 rich robes, and bestowed them on those who 
 repaired to him after their flight. He furnished 
 each of his friends, too, with a quantity of poison, 
 that none o: them, against their will, might come 
 alive into the enemy’s hands. 
 
 From Inora his design was to go to Tigranes in 
 Armenia. But Tigranes had given up the cause, 
 and set a price of no less than 100 talents upon his 
 head. He theiefore changed his route, and 
 having passed the head of the Euphrates, directed 
 his flight through Colchis. 
 
 In the mean time, Pompey entered Armenia, 
 
 * It seems from a passage in Strabo (b. xii.), 
 that instead of hiora^ we should read, Sinoria : 
 for that was one of the many fortresses Mithri- 
 dates had built between the greater and the less 
 Armenia. 
 
 upon the invitation of young Tigranes, who had 
 revolted from his father, and was gone to meet 
 the Roman general at the river Araxes. This 
 river takes its rise near the source of the Eu- 
 phrates, but bends its course eastward, and empties 
 Itself into the Caspian sea. Pompey and young 
 Tigranes, in their march, received the homage of 
 the cities through which they passed. As for 
 Tigranes the father, he had been lately defeated 
 by Lucullus ; and now, being informed that Pom- 
 pey was of a mild and humane disposition, he 
 received a Roman garrison into his capital ; and 
 taking his friends and relations with him, went to 
 surrender himself. As he rode up to the in- 
 trenchments, two of Pompey ’s lictors came and 
 ordered him to dismount, and enter on foot ; 
 assuring him that no man was ever seen on horse- 
 back in a Roman camp. Tigranes obeyed, and 
 even took off his sword, and gave it them. As 
 soon as he came before Pompey, he pulled off his 
 diadem, and attempted to lay it at his feet, 
 What was still worse, he was going to prostrate 
 himself, and embrace his knees. But Pompey 
 reventing it, took him by the hand, and placed 
 im on one side of him, and his son on the other. 
 Then addressing himself to the father, he said, 
 “As to what you had lost before, you lost it to 
 Lucullus. It was he who took from you Syria, 
 Phoenicia, Cilicia, Galatia, and 3 ophene. But 
 what you kept till my time, I will restore you, on 
 condition you pay the Romans a fine of 6000 
 talents for the injury you have done them. Your 
 son I will make king of Sophene.” 
 
 Tigranes thought himself so happy in these 
 terms, and in finding that the Romans saluted 
 him king, that in the joy of his heart he promised 
 every private soldier half a mina^ every centurion 
 ten minus, and every tribune a talent. ^ But his 
 son was little pleased at the determination ; and 
 when he was invited to supper, he said he had no 
 need of such honours from Pompey ; for he could 
 find another Roman. Upon this, he was bound, 
 and reserved in chains for the triumph. Not 
 long after, Phraates, king of Parthia, sent to 
 demand the young prince, as his son-in-law, and 
 to propose that the Euphrates should be the 
 boundary between him and the Roman empire. 
 Pompey answered, that Tigranes was certainly 
 nearer to his father than his father-in-law ; and 
 as for the boundary, justice should direct it. 
 
 When he had despatched this affair, he left 
 Afranius to take care of Armenia, and marched 
 himself to the countries bordering on Mount 
 Caucasus, through which he must necessarily 
 pass in search of Mithridates. The Albanians 
 and Iberians are the principal nations in those 
 parts. The Iberian territories touch upon the 
 Moschian mountains and the kingdom of Pontus ; 
 the Albanians stretch more to the east, and extend 
 to the Caspian sea. The Albanians at first 
 granted Pompey a passage : but as winter over- 
 took him in their dominions, they took the 
 opportunity of the Saturnalia, which the Romans 
 observe religiously, to assemble their forces to 
 the number of 40,000 men, with a resolution to 
 attack them ; and for that purpose passed the 
 Cyrnus.* The Cyrnus rises in the Iberian 
 mountains, and being joined in its course by the 
 Araxes from Armenia, it discharges itself, by 
 
 * Strabo and Pliny call this riyer Cyrus, and 
 so Plutarch probably wrote it. 
 
POMPEY. 
 
 twelve mouths, into the Caspian sea. Some say, 
 the Araxes does not run into it,* but has a 
 separate channel, and empties itself near it into 
 the same sea. 
 
 Pompey suffered them to pass the river, though 
 it was in his power to have hindered it; and 
 when they were all got over, he attacked and 
 routed them, and killed great numbers on the 
 spot. Their king sent ambassadors to beg for 
 mercy ; upon which Pompey forgave him the 
 violence he had offered, and entered into alliance 
 with him. This done, he marched against the 
 Iberians, who were equally numerous and more 
 warlike, and who were very desirous to signalize 
 their zeal for Mithridates, by repulsing Pompey. 
 The Iberians were never subject to the Medes or 
 Persians : they escaped even the Macedonian 
 yoke, because Alexander was obliged to leave 
 Hyrcania in haste. Pompey, however, defeated 
 this people too, in a great battle, in which he 
 killed no less than gooo, and 'took above 10,000 
 prisoners. 
 
 After this, he threw himself into Colchis ; and 
 Servilius came and joined him at the mouth of 
 the Phasis, with the fleet appointed to guard the 
 Euxine sea. The pursuit of Mithridates was 
 attended with great difficulties : for he had 
 concealed himself among the nations settled 
 about the Bosphorus and the Palus Mseotis. 
 Besides, news was brought Pompey that the 
 Albanians had revolted, and taken up arms again. 
 The desire of revenge determined him to march 
 back, and chastise them. But it was with infinite 
 trouble and danger that he passed the Cyrnus 
 again, the barbarians having fenced it on their 
 side with pallisades all along the banks. And 
 when he was over, he had a large country to 
 traverse, which afforded no water. This last 
 difficulty he provided against, by filling 10,000 
 ^ bottles ; and pursuing his march, he found the 
 enemy drawn up on the banks of the river Abas,t 
 to the number of 60,000 foot, and 12,000 horse, 
 but many of them ill-armed, and provided with 
 nothing of the defensive kind but skins of beasts. 
 
 They were commanded by the king’s brother, 
 named Cosis ; who, at the beginning of the battle, 
 singled out Pompey, and rushing in upon him, 
 struck his javelin into the joints of his breastplate. 
 Pompey in return run him through with his spear, 
 and laid him dead on the spot. It is said that 
 the Amazons came to the assistance of the bar- 
 barians from the mountains near the river Ther- 
 modon, and fought in this battle. The Romans, 
 among the plunder of the field, did, indeed, meet 
 with bucklers in the form of a half-moon, and 
 such buskins as the Amazons wore ; but there 
 was not the body of a woman found among the 
 dead. They inhabit that part of Mount Caucasus 
 which stretches towards the Hyrcanian sea, and 
 are not next neighbours to the Albanians ;X for 
 Gelae and Leges lie between ; but they meet that 
 people, and spend two months with them every 
 
 * This is Strabo’s opinion, in which he is 
 followed by the modern geographers. 
 
 A it its rise in the mountains of 
 
 Albania, and falls into the Caspian sea. Ptolemv 
 calls it A/danus. 
 
 t The Albanian forces, according to Strabo, 
 were numerous, but ill-disciplined. Their offen- 
 sive weapons were darts and arrows, and their 
 defensive armour was made of the skins of beasts. 
 
 year on the banks of the Thermodon : after which 
 they retire to their own country, where they live 
 without the company of men. 
 
 After this action, Pompey designed to make his 
 way to the Caspian sea, and march by its coasts 
 into Hyrcania ; but he found the number of 
 venomous serpents so troublesome, that he was 
 forced to return, when three days’ march would 
 have carried him as far as he proposed. The 
 next route he took was into Armenia the Less, 
 where he gave audience to ambassadors from the 
 kings of the Elymaeans * and Medes, and dis- 
 missed them with letters expressive of his regard. 
 Meantime the king of Parthia had entered 
 Gordyene, and was doing infinite damage to the 
 subjects of Tigranes. Against him Pompey sent 
 Afraniu.s, who put him to the rout, and pursued 
 him as far as the province of Arbelis. 
 
 Among all the concubines of Mithridates that 
 •were brought before Pompey, he touched not one, 
 but sent them to their parents or husbands ; for 
 most of them were either daughters or wives of 
 the great officers and principal persons of the 
 kingdom. But Stratonice, who was the first 
 favourite, and had the care of a fort where the 
 best part of the king’s treasure was lodged, was 
 the daughter of a poor old musician. She sung 
 one evening to Mithridates at an entertainment, 
 and he was so much pleased with her that he took 
 her to his bed that night, and sent the old man 
 home in no very good humour, because he had 
 taken his daughter without condescending to 
 speak one kind word to him. But when he 
 waked next morning, he saw tables covered with 
 vessels of gold and silver, a great retinue of 
 eunuchs and pages, who offered him choice of 
 rich robes, and before his gate a horse with such 
 magnificent furniture, as is provided for those 
 who are called the king’s friends. All this he 
 thought nothing but an insult and burlesque upon 
 him, and therefore prepared for flight ; but the 
 servants stopped him, and assured him that 
 the king had given him the house of a rich 
 nobleman lately deceased, and that what he saw 
 was only the first-fruits— a small earnest of the 
 fortune he intended him. At last he suffered 
 himself to be persuaded that the scene was not 
 visionary ; he put on the purple, and mounted 
 the horse, and, as he rode through the city, cried 
 out, “All this is mine.” The inhabitants, of 
 course, laughed at him ; and he told them, 
 they should not be surprised at this behaviour 
 of his, but rather wonder that he did not throw 
 stones at them. 
 
 From such a glorious source sprung Stratonice. 
 
 She surrendered to Pompey the castle, and made 
 him many magnificent pre.sents ; however, he 
 took nothing but what might be an ornament to 
 the solemnities of religion, and add lustre to his 
 triumph. The rest he desired she would keep f jr 
 her own enjoyment. In like manner, when the 
 king of Iberia sent him a bedstead, a table, and 
 a throne, all of massy gold, and begged of him 
 to accept them as a mark of his regard, he bade 
 
 * Strabo (lib. xvi.) places the Elymaeans in 
 that part of Assyria which borders upon Media, 
 and mentions three provinces belonging to them* 
 Gabiane, Messabatice, and Corbiane. He adds* 
 that they were powerful enough to refuse sub- 
 mission to the king of Parthia. 
 
440 
 
 PLUTARCH LIVES, 
 
 the quaestors apply them to the purposes of the 
 public revenue. 
 
 In the castle of Caenon he found the private 
 papers of Mithridates ; and he read them with 
 some pleasure, because they discovered that 
 prince’s real character. From these memoirs it 
 appeared, that he had taken off many persons by 
 poison, among whom were his own son Ariarathes 
 and Alcaeus of Sardis. His pique against the 
 latter took its rise merely from his having better 
 horses for the race than he. There were also 
 interpretations, both of his oum dreams and those 
 of his wives ; and the lascivious letters which had 
 passed between him and Monime. Theophanes 
 pretends to say, that there was found among 
 those papers a memorial composed by Rutilius,* 
 exhorting INIithridates to massacre all the 
 Romans in Asia. But most people believe this 
 was a malicious invention of Theophanes, to 
 blacken Rutilius, whom probably he hated, 
 because he was a perfect contrast to him ; or it 
 might be invented by Pompey, whose father was 
 represented in Rutilius’s histories as one of the 
 worst of men. 
 
 From Caenon Pompe^r marched^ to Amisus ; 
 where his infatuating ambition put him upon very 
 obnoxious measures. He had censured Lucullus 
 much for disposing of provinces at a time when 
 the war was alive, and for bestoiying other con- 
 siderable gifts and honours, which conquerors 
 used to grant after their wars were absolutely 
 terminated. And yet when Mithridates was master 
 of the Bosphorus, and had assembled a very 
 respectable army again, the same Pompey did 
 the very thing he had censured. As if he had 
 finished' the whole, he disposed of governments, 
 and distributed other rewards among his friends. 
 On that occasion many princes and generals, and 
 among them twelve barbarian kings, appeared 
 before him; and to gratify those princes, when 
 he wrote to the king of Parthia, he refused to 
 give him the title of King of Kings, by which 
 he was usually addressed. 
 
 He was passionatclv desirous to recover Syria, 
 and passing from thence through Arabia, to pene- 
 trate to the Red Sea, that he might go on con- 
 quering every way to the ocean which surrounds 
 the world. In Africa he was the first whose_ con- 
 quests extended to the Great Sea; in Spain he 
 stretched the Roman dominions to the Atlantic ; 
 and in his late pursuit of the Albanians, he 
 wanted but little of reaching the Hyrcanian sea. 
 In order, therefore, to take the Red Sea too into 
 the circle of his wars, he began his march ; the 
 rather, because he saw it difficult to hunt out 
 Mithridates with a regular force, and that he was 
 much harder to deal with in his flight than in 
 battle. For this reason, he said he would 
 leave him a stronger enemy than the Romans to 
 cope with, which was famine. In pursuance of 
 this intention, he ordered a number of ships to 
 cruise about and prevent any vessels from enter- 
 ing the Bosphorus with provisions ; and that 
 death should be the punishment for such as were 
 taken in the attempt. 
 
 * P. Rutilius Rufus was consul in the year of 
 Rome 649. Cicero gives him a great character. 
 He was afterwards banished into Asia, and when 
 Sylla recalled him, he refused to return. He 
 wrote a Roman history in Greek, which Appian 
 made great use of. 
 
 As he was upon his march with the best part of 
 his army, he found the bodies of those Romans, 
 who fell in the unfortunate battle between 
 Triarius * and Mithridates, still uninterred. He 
 gave them an honourable burial : and the omis- 
 sion of it seems to have contributed not a little to 
 the aversion the army had for Lucullus. 
 
 Proceeding in the execution of his plan, he 
 subdued the Arabians about Mount Amanus, by 
 his lieutenant Afranius, and descended himself 
 into Syria ; which he converted into a Roman 
 province, because it had no lawful king.f He 
 reduced Judaea, and took its king Aristobulus 
 prisoner. He founded some cities, and set 
 others free ; punishing the tyrants who had 
 enslaved them. But most of his time was spent 
 in administering justice, and in deciding the 
 disputes between cities and princes. Where he 
 could not go himself, he sent his friends ; the 
 Armenians and Parthians, for instance, having 
 referred the difference they had about some 
 territory, to his decision, he sent three arbitrators 
 to settle the affair. His reputation as to power 
 was great, and it was equally respectable as to 
 virtue and moderation. This was the thing 
 which palliated most of his faults, and those of 
 his ministers. He knew not how to restrain or 
 punish the offences of those he employed, but 
 he gave so gracious a reception to those who 
 came to complain of them, that they went away 
 not ill satisfied with all they had suffered from 
 their avarice and oppression. 
 
 His first favourite was Demetrius his en- 
 franchised slave ; a young man, who, in other 
 respects, did not want understanding, but who 
 made an insolent use of his good fortune. They 
 tell us this story of him. Cato the philosopher, 
 then a young man, but already celebrated for 
 his virtue and greatness of mind, went to see 
 Antioch, when Pompey was not there. Accord- 
 ing to custom, he travelled on foot, but his 
 friends accompanied him on horseback. When 
 he approached the city, he saw a great number 
 of people before the gates, all in white, and on 
 the way a troop of young men ranged on one 
 side, and of boys on the other. This gave the 
 philosopher pain for he^ thought it a compli- 
 ment intended him, which he did not want. 
 However, he ordered his friends to alight and 
 walk with him. As soon as they were near 
 enough to .be spoke with, the master of the cere- 
 monies, with a crown on his head, and a staff of 
 office in his hand, came up and asked them 
 where they had left Demetrius, and when he 
 might be expected. Cato’s companions laughed, 
 but Cato said only, “ Alas, poor city ! ” and so 
 passed on. 
 
 Indeed, others might the better endure the 
 insolence of Demetrius, because Pompey bore 
 
 * Triarius was defeated by Mithridates three 
 years before Pompey ’s march into Syria. He 
 had twenty-three tribunes, and 150 centurions 
 killed in that battle ; and his camp was taken. 
 
 t Pompey took the temple of Jerusalem, 
 killing no less than 12,000 Jews in the action. 
 He entered the temple, contrary to their law, 
 but had the moderation not to touch any of the 
 holy utensils, or the treasure belonging to it. 
 Aristobulus presented him with a golden vine, 
 valued at 500 talents, which he afterwards con- 
 secrated in the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. 
 
POMPEY. 
 
 441 
 
 with it himself. Very often, when Pompey was 
 waiting to receive company, Demetrius seated 
 himself in a disrespectful manner at table, with 
 his cap of liberty pulled over his ears. Before 
 his return to Italy he had purchased the plea- 
 santest villas about Rome, with magnificent 
 apartments for entertaining his friends ; and 
 some of the most elegant and expensive gardens 
 were known by his name. Yet Pompey himself 
 was satisfied with an indifferent house till his 
 third triumph. Afterwards he built that beau- 
 tiful and celebrated theatre in Rome ; and as an 
 appendage to it, built himself a house much 
 handsomer than the former, but not ostentatiously 
 great ; for he who came to be master of it after 
 him, at his first entrance was surprised, and 
 asked where was the room in which Pompey the 
 Great used to sup. Such is the account we have 
 of these matters. 
 
 ^ The king of Arabia Petrsea had hitherto con- 
 sidered the Romans in no formidable light, but 
 he was really afraid of Pompey, and sent letters 
 to acquaint him that he was ready to obey all 
 his commands. Pompey, to try the sincerity of 
 his professions, marched against Petra. Many 
 blamed this expedition, looking upon it as no 
 better than a pretext to be excused pursuing 
 Mithridates, against whom they would have had 
 him turn, as against the ancient enemy of Rome ; 
 and an enemy who, according to all accounts, 
 had so far recovered his strength as to propose 
 marching through Scythia and Pseonia into 
 Italy. On the other hand, Pompey was of 
 opinion that it was much easier to ruin him 
 when at the head of an army, than to take him 
 in his flight, and therefore would not amuse 
 himself with a fruitless pursuit, but rather chose 
 to wait for a new emergency, and, in the mean 
 time, to turn his arms to another quarter. 
 
 Fortune soon resolved the doubt. He had 
 advanced near Petra, and encamped for that 
 day, and was taking some exercise on horseback 
 without the trenches, when messengers arrived 
 from Pontus ; and it was plain they brought 
 good news, because the points of their spears 
 were crowned with laurel. The soldiers seeing 
 this, gathered about Pompey, who was inclined 
 to finish his exercise before he opened- the 
 packet ; but they were so earnest in their 
 entreaties, that they prevailed upon him to alight 
 and take it. He entered the camp with it in his 
 hand ; and as there was no tribunal ready, and 
 the soldiers were too impatient to raise one of 
 turf, which was the common method, they piled 
 a number of pack-saddles one upon another, 
 upon which Pompey mounted, and gave them 
 this information : “ Mithridates is dead. He 
 killed himself upon the revolt of his son Phar- 
 naces. And Pharnaces has seized all that be- 
 longed to his father ; which he declares he has 
 done for himself and the Romans.” 
 
 At this news the army, as might be expected, 
 gave a loose to their joy, which they expressed 
 in sacrifices to the gods, and in reciprocal enter- 
 tainments, as if 10,000 of their enemies had been 
 slain in Mithridates. Pompey having thus 
 brought the campaign and the whole war to a 
 conclusion so happy, and so far beyond his 
 hopes, immediately quitted Arabia, traversed 
 the provinces between that and Galatia with 
 great rapidity, and soon arrived at Amisus. 
 There he found many presents from Pharnaces, 
 
 and several corpses of the royal family, among 
 which was that of Mithridates. The face of 
 that prince could not be easily known, because 
 the embalmers had not taken out the brain, and 
 by the corruption of that the features were dis- 
 figured. Yet some that were curious to examine 
 it distinguished it by the scars. As for Pompey, 
 he would not see the body, but to propitiate the 
 avenging deity,* sent it to Sinope. However, 
 he looked upon and admired the magnificence 
 of his habit, and the size and beauty of his arms. 
 The scabbard of the sword, w'hich cost 400 
 talents, was stolen by one Publius, who sold it 
 to Ariarathes. And Gains, the foster-brother of 
 Mithridates, took the diadem, which was of most 
 exquisite workmanship, and gave it privately to 
 Faustus, the son of Sylla, who had begged it 
 of him. This escaped the knowledge of Pom- 
 pey, but Pharnaces, discovering it afterwards, 
 punished the persons guilty of the theft. 
 
 Pompey having thoroughly settled the affairs 
 of Asia, proceeded in his return to Rome with 
 more pomp and solemnity. When he arrived at 
 Mitylene, he declared it a free city, for the sake 
 of Theophanes, who was born there. He was 
 present at the anniversary exercises of the poets, 
 whose sole subject that year was the actions of 
 Pompey. And he was so much pleased with 
 their theatre, that he took a plan of it, with a 
 design to build one like it at Rome, but greater 
 and more noble. When he came to Rhodes, he 
 attended the declamations of all the Sophists, 
 and presented each of them with a talent. Posi- 
 donius committed the discourse to writing, which 
 he made before him against the position of 
 Hermagoras, another professor of rhetoric, con- 
 cerning Invention in general.f He behaved 
 with equal munificence to the philosophers at 
 Athens, and gave the people fifty talents for the 
 repair of their city. 
 
 He hoped to return to Italy the greatest and 
 happiest of men, and that his family would meet 
 his affection with equal ardour. But the deity 
 whose care it is always to mix some portion of 
 evil with the highest and most splendid favours 
 of fortune, had been long preparing him a sad 
 welcome in his house. Mucia,t in his absence, 
 had dishonoured his bed. While he was at a 
 distance, he disregarded the report, but upon 
 his approach to Italy, and a more mature ex- 
 
 * Nemesis 
 
 t Hermagoras was for reducing invention 
 under two general heads, the reason of the pro- 
 cess, and the state of the question ; which limi- 
 tation Cicero disapproved as much as his master 
 Posidonius. Vide Cicer. de Invent. RJietor. 
 lib. i. 
 
 This Posidonius, v/ho \vas of Apamea, is not 
 to be confounded with Posidonius of Alexandria, 
 the disciple of Zeno. 
 
 J Mucia was sister to Metellus Celer, and to 
 Metellus Nepos. She was debauched by Caesar; 
 for which reason,, when Pompey married Caesar’s 
 daughter, all the world blamed him for turning 
 off a wife by whom he had three children, to 
 espouse the daughter of a man whom he had 
 often, with a sigh, called his .tSgisthus. Mucia’s 
 disloyalty must have been very public, since 
 Cicero, in one of his letters to Atticus, says, the 
 divorce of Mucia meets wdth general approbation. 
 Lib. i. ep. xii. 
 
442 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 amination into the affair, he sent her a divorce 
 without assigning his reasons either then or 
 afterwards. The true reason is to be found in 
 Cicero’s epistles. 
 
 People talked variously at Rome concerning 
 Pompey’s intentions. Many disturbed them- 
 selves at the thought that he would march with 
 his army immediately to Rome, and make him- 
 self sole and absolute master there. _ Crassus 
 took his children and money, and withdrew ; 
 whether it was that he had some real apprehen- 
 sions, or rather that he chose to countenance the 
 calumny, and add force to the sting of envy ; 
 the latter seems the more probable. But Pom- 
 pey had no sooner set foot in Italy, than he 
 called an assembly of his soldiers, and, after a 
 kind and suitable address, ordered them to dis- 
 perse in their respective^ cities, and attend to 
 their own affairs till his triumph, on which occa- 
 sion they were to repair to him again. 
 
 As soon as it was known that his troops were 
 disbanded, an astonishing change appeared in 
 the face of things. The cities seeing Pompey 
 the Great unarmed, and attended by a few 
 friends, as if he was returning only from a com- 
 mon tour, poured out their inhabitants after him, 
 who conducted him to Rome with the sincerest 
 pleasure, and with a much greater force than 
 that which he had dismissed ; so that there 
 would have been no need of the army, if he had 
 formed any designs against the state. 
 
 As the law did not permit him to enter the 
 city before his triumph, he desired the senate 
 to defer the election of consuls on his account, 
 that he might by his presence support the in- 
 terest of Piso. But Cato opposed it, and the 
 motion miscarried. Pompey, admiring the liberty 
 and firmness with which Cato maintained the 
 rights and customs of his country, at a time 
 when no other man would appear so openly for 
 them, determined to gain him if possible ; and 
 as Cato had two nieces, he offered to marry the 
 one, and asked the other for his son. Cato, 
 however, suspected the bait, and looked upon 
 the proposed alliance as a means intended to 
 corrupt his integrity. He therefore relused it, 
 to the great regret of his wife and sister, who 
 could not but be displeased at his rejecting such 
 advances from Pompey the Great. Meantirne 
 Pompey being desirous to get the consulship 
 from Afranius, distributed money for that pur- 
 pose among the tribes, and the voters went to 
 receive it in Pompey’s own gardens. The thing 
 was so public that Pompey was much censured 
 for making that office venal, which he had ob- 
 tained by his great actions, and opening a way 
 to the highest honour in the state to those who 
 had money, but wanted merit. Cato then ob- 
 served to the ladies of his family, that they 
 must all have shared in this disgrace, if they had 
 accepted Pompey’s alliance ; upon which they 
 acknowledged he was a better judge than they 
 of honour and propriety. 
 
 The triumph was so great, that though it was 
 divided into two days, the time was far from 
 being sufficient for displaying what was pre- 
 pared to be carried in procession ; there remained 
 still enough to adorn another triumph. At the 
 head of the show appeared the titles of the 
 conquered nations ; Pontus, Armenia, Cappa- 
 docia, Paphlagonia, Media, Colchis, the Iberians, 
 the Albanians, Syria, Cilicia, Mesopotamia, 
 
 Phoenicia, Palestine, Judsea, Arabia, the pirates 
 subdued both by sea and land. In these coun- 
 tries, it was mentioned that there were not less 
 than looo castles, and near goo cities taken ; 
 800 galleys taken from the pirates ; and 39 deso- 
 late cities repeopled. On the face of the tablets 
 it appeared besides, that whereas the revenues 
 of the Roman empire before these conquests 
 amounted but to 50,000,000 drachr 7 tas, by the 
 new acquisitions they were advanced to 85,000,000: 
 and that Pompey had brought into the public 
 treasury, in money, and in gold and silver vessels, 
 to the value of 20,000 talents, besides what he 
 had distributed among the soldiers, of whom he 
 that received least had 1500 drachmas to his 
 share. The captives who walked in the pro- 
 cession (not to mention the chiefs of the pirates) 
 were the son of Tigranes, king of Armenia, to- 
 gether with his wife and daughter ; Zosima, the 
 wife of Tigranes himself ; Aristobulus, king of 
 Judea; the sister of Mithridates, with her five 
 sons ; and some Scythian women. The hostages 
 of the Albanians and Iberians, and of the king of 
 Commagene also appeared in the train ; and as 
 many trophies were exhibited as Pompey had 
 gained victories, either in person or by his 
 lieutenants, the number of which was not small. 
 
 But the most honourable circumstance, and 
 what no other Roman could boast, was that his 
 third triumph was over the third quarter of the 
 world, after his former trium.phs had been over 
 the other two. Others before him had been 
 honoured with three triumphs ; but his first 
 triumph was over Africa, his second over Europe, 
 and his third over Asia ; so that the three seemed 
 to declare him conqueror of the world. 
 
 Those who desire to make the parallel between 
 him and Alexander agree in all respects, tell us 
 he was at this time not quite thirty-four, where- 
 as, in fact, he was entering upon his fortieth year.* 
 Happy it had been for him, if he had ended his 
 days, while he was blessed with Alexander’s 
 good fortune ! The rest of his life, every instance 
 of success brought its proportion of dnvy, and 
 every miscarriage was irretrievable. For the 
 authority which he had gained by his merit he 
 employed for others in a way not very honour- 
 able'; and his reputation consequently sinking, 
 as they grew in strength, he was insensibly 
 ruined by the weight of his own power. As it 
 happens in a siege, every strong work that is 
 taken adds to the besieger’s force ; so Caesar, 
 when raised by the influence of Pompey, turned 
 that power, which enabled him to trample upon 
 his country, upon Pompey himself. It happened 
 in this manner. 
 
 Lucullus, who had been treated so unworthily 
 by Pompey in Asia, upon his return to Rome 
 met with the most honourable reception from the 
 senate ; and they gave him still greater marks of 
 their esteem after the arrival of Pompey ; en- 
 deavouring to awake his ambition, and prevail 
 with him to attempt the lead in the administra- 
 tion. But his spirit and active powers were by 
 this time on the decline ; he had given himself 
 up to the pleasures of ease and the_ enjoyments 
 of wealth. However, he bore up against Pompey 
 
 * It should be forty-sixth year. Pompey was 
 born in the beginning of the month of August, in 
 the year of Rome 647, and his triumph was in 
 the same month in the year of Rome 692. 
 
POMPEY. 
 
 443 
 
 with some vigour at first, and got his acts con- 
 firmed, which his adversary had annulled ; 
 having a majority in the senate through the assis- 
 tance of Cato. 
 
 Pompey, thus worsted in the senate, had re- 
 course to the tribunes of the people and to the 
 young plebeians. Clodius, the most daring and 
 profligate of them all, received him with open 
 arms, but at the same time subjected him to all 
 the humours of the populace. He made him 
 dangle after him in the Jortim in a manner far 
 beneath his dignity, and insisted upon his sup- 
 porting every bill that he proposed, and every 
 speech that he made, to flatter and ingratiate 
 himself with the people. And, as if the connection 
 with him had been an honour instead of a dis- 
 grace, he demanded still higher wages ; that 
 Pompey should give up Cicero, who had ever 
 been his fast friend, and of the greatest use to 
 him in the administration. And these wages he 
 obtained. For when Cicero came to be in danger, 
 and requested Pompey ’s assistance, he refused to 
 see him, and shutting his gates against those that 
 came to intercede for him, went out at a back door. 
 Cicero, therefore, dreading the issue of the trial, 
 departed privately from Rome. 
 
 At this time Caesar, returning from his pro- 
 vince, * undertook an aflfair, which rendered him 
 ve^ popular at present, and in its consequences 
 gained him power, but proved a great prejudice 
 to Pompey and to the v/hole commonwealth. He 
 W'as then soliciting his first consulship, and 
 Crassus and Pompey being at variance, he per- 
 ceived that if he should join the one, the other 
 would be his enemy of course ; he therefore set 
 himself to reconcile them. A thing which seemed 
 honourable in itself, and calculated for the public 
 good ; but the intention was insidious, though 
 deep laid and covered with the most refined 
 policy. For while the power of the state was 
 divided, it kept it in an equilibrium, as the 
 burden of a ship properly distributed keeps it 
 from inclining to one side more than another, but 
 when the power came to be all collected into one 
 part, having nothing to counterbalance it, it over- 
 set and destroyed the commonwealth. Hence it 
 was, that when some were observing that the 
 constitution was ruined by the difference which 
 happened afterwards between Caesar and Pompey, 
 Cato said, “You are under a great mistake : it 
 was not th' ir late disagreement, but their former 
 union and connection which gave the constitution 
 the first and greatest blow.” 
 
 To this union Caesar owed his consulship. And 
 he was no sooner appointed than he began to 
 make his court to the indigent part of the people, 
 by proposing laws for sending out colonies, and 
 for the distribution of lands ; by which he de- 
 scended from the dignity of a consul, and in some 
 sort took upon him the office of a tribune. His 
 colleague Bibulus opposed him, and Cato pre- 
 pared to support Bibulus in the most strenuous 
 manner; when Caesar placed Pompey by him 
 upon the tribunal, and asked him, before the 
 who.e assembly whether he approved his laws ; 
 
 . was not at the time of Cicero’s going into 
 exile that Caesar returned from his province in 
 bpain, which he had governed with the title of 
 praetor, but ^o years before. Caesar returned in 
 the year of Rome 693, and Cicero quitted Rome 
 in the year 695. 
 
 and upon his answering in the affirmative, he put 
 this farther question, “Then if anyone shall with 
 violence oppose these laws, will you come to the 
 assistance of the people ? ” Pompey answered, 
 “ I will certainly come ; and against those that 
 threaten to take the sword, I will bring both 
 sword and buckler.” 
 
 Pompey till that day had never said anything 
 so obnoxious ; and his friends could only say, by 
 way of apology, that it was an expression which 
 had escaped him. But it appeared by the subse- 
 quent events, that he was then entirely at Caesar’s 
 devotion. For within a few days, to the surprise 
 of all the world, he married Julia, Caesar’s 
 daughter, who had been promised to Caepio, and 
 was upon the point of being married to him. To 
 appease the resentment of Caepio, he gave him 
 his own daughter, who had been before con- 
 tracted to Faustus, the son of Sylla ; and Caesar 
 married Calpurnia, the daughter of Piso. 
 
 Pompey then filled the city with soldiers, and 
 carried everything with open force. Upon 
 Bibulus the consul making his appearance in the 
 forum, together with Lucullus and Cato, the 
 soldiers suddenly fell upon him, and broke h;s 
 fasces. Nay, one of them had the impudence to 
 empty a basket of dung upon the head of Bibulus ; 
 and two tribunes of the people, who accompanied 
 him, were wounded. The forum thus cleared of 
 all opposition, the law passed for the division 
 of lands. The people, caught by this bait, became 
 tame and tractable in all respects, and without 
 questioning the expediency of any of their 
 measures, silently gave their suffrages to what- 
 ever was proposed. The acts of Pompey, which 
 Lucullus had contested, were confirmed ; and the 
 two Gauls on this and the other side the Alps 
 and Illyria, were allotted to Caesar for five years, 
 with four complete legions. At the same time 
 Piso, Caesar’s father-in-law, and Gabinius, one of 
 the most abandoned flatterers of Pompey, were 
 pitched upon for consuls for the ensuing year. 
 
 Bibulus, finding matters thus carried, shut 
 himself up in his house, and for the eight following 
 months remained inattentive to the functions of 
 his office ; * contenting himself with publishing 
 manifestoes full of bitter invectives against Pom- 
 pey and Caesar. Cato, on this occasion, as if 
 in.spired with a spirit of prophecy, announced in 
 full senate the calamities which would befall the 
 commonwealth and Pompey himself. Lucullus, 
 tor his part, gave up all thoughts of state affairs^ 
 and betook himself to repose, as if age had dis- 
 qualified him for the concerns of government. 
 Upon which Pompey observed, that it was more 
 unseasonable for an old man to give himself up to 
 luxuiy than to bear a public employment. Yet, 
 notwithstanding this observation, he soon suffered 
 himself to be effeminated by the love of a "young 
 woman ; he gave up his time to her ; he spent 
 the day with her in his villas and gardens, to the 
 entire neglect of public affairs ; in.somuch that 
 Clodius the tribune began to despi.se him, and to 
 engage in the boldest designs against him. For 
 after he had banished Cicero, and sent Cato to 
 Cyprus, under pretence of giving him the com- 
 mand in that island ; when Caesar was gone upon 
 
 * Hence the wits of Rome, instead of saying, 
 such a thing happened in the consulship of Caesar 
 and Bibulus, said, it happened in the consulship 
 of Julius and Caesar. 
 
444 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 his expedition into Gaul, and the tribune found 
 the people entirely devoted to him, because he 
 flattered their inclinations in all the measures 
 he took, he attempted to annul some of Pompey’s 
 ordinances; he took his prisoner Tigranes from 
 him, kept him in his own custody, and impeached 
 some of his friends, in order to try in them the 
 strength of Pompey’s interest. At last, when 
 Pompey appeared against one of these prosecu- 
 tions, Clodius, having a crew of profligate and 
 insolent wretches about him, ascended an emi- 
 nence, and put the following questions, “Who is 
 the licentious lord of Rome? Who is the man 
 that seeks for a man ? * * * § * * Who scratches his head 
 with one finger?”! And his creatures, like a 
 chorus instructed in their part, upon his shaking 
 his gown, answered aloud to every question, 
 Pompey. t 
 
 These things gave Pompey uneasiness, because 
 it was a new thing to him to be spoken ill of, 
 and he was entirely inexperienced in that sort of 
 war. That which afflicted him most, was his 
 perceiving that the senate were pleased to see 
 him the object of reproach, and punished for his 
 desertion of Cicero. But when parties ran so 
 high that they came to blows in the forM7n^ and 
 several were wounded on both sides, and one of 
 the servants of Clodius was observed to creep in 
 among the crowd, towards Pompey, with a drawn 
 sword in his hand, he was furnished with an 
 excuse for not attending the public assemblies. 
 Besides, he was really afraid to stand the im- 
 pudence of Clodius, and all the torrent of abuse 
 that might be expected from him, and^ therefore 
 made his appearance no more during his tribune- 
 ship, but consulted in private with his friends 
 how to disarm the anger of the senate and the 
 valuable part of the citizens. Culleo advised him 
 to repudiate Julia, and to exchange the friendship 
 of Csesar for that of the senate ; but he would 
 not hearken to the proposal. Others proposed 
 that he should recall Cicero, who' was not only, 
 an avowed enemy to Clodius, but the favourite of 
 the senate ; and he agreed to that overture. 
 Accordingly, with a strong body of his retainers, 
 he conducted Cicero’s brother into the forum, 
 who was to apply to the people in his behalf, and 
 after a SGufile, in which several were wounded, 
 and some slain, he overpowered Clodius, and 
 obtained a decree for the restoration of Cicero. 
 Immediately upon his return the orator recon- 
 ciled the senate to Pompey, and by effectually 
 recommending the law which was to intrust him 
 with the care of supplying Rome with corn,§ he 
 
 * T4? avrjp ^riret avdpa. Zt]retv avdpa was a 
 proverbial expression brought from Athens to 
 Rome. It was taken originally from ^Esop's 
 seeking an honest man with a lantern at noonday ; 
 and, by degrees, it came to signify the loss of 
 manhood, or the manly character, which loss 
 Pompey was allowed to have sustained in the 
 embraces of Julia. 
 
 t U710 scalpere digito was likewise a pro- 
 verbial expression for a Roman petit mattre. 
 
 % Plutarch does not here keep exactly to the 
 order of time. This happened in the year of 
 Rome 697, as appears from Dio (book xxxix.), 
 that is, two years after what he is going to men- 
 tion concerning that tribune's slave being taken 
 with a sword. 
 
 § The law also gave Pompey proconsular 
 
 made Pompey once more master of the Roman 
 empire, both by sea and land. For by this law 
 the ports, the markets, the disposal of provisions, 
 in a word, the whole business of the merchant 
 and the husbandman, were brought under his 
 jurisdiction. 
 
 Clodius, on the other hand, alleged, that the 
 law was not made on account of the real scarcity 
 of provisions, but that an artificial scarcity was 
 caused for the sake of procuring the law, and 
 that Pompey, by a new commission, might bring 
 his power to life again, which -was sunk, as it 
 were, in a deliquium. Others say, it was the 
 contrivance of the consul Spinther, to procure 
 Pompey a superior employment, that he might 
 himself be sent to re-establish Ptolemy in his 
 kingdom.* 
 
 However, the tribune Canidius brought in a 
 bill, the purport of which was, that Pompey 
 should be sent without an army, and with only 
 two lictors, to reconcile the Alexandrians to their 
 king. Pompey did not appear displeased at the 
 bill ; but the senate threw it out, under the hon- 
 ourable pretence of not hazarding his person. 
 Nevertheless, papers were found scattered in the 
 forum and before the senate-house, importing 
 that Ptolemy himself desired that Pompey_ might 
 be employed to act for him instead of Spinther. 
 Timagenes pretends, that Ptolemy left Egypt 
 without any necessity, at the persuasion of 
 Theophanes, who was desirous to give Pompey 
 new occasions to enrich himself and the honour 
 of new commands. But the baseness of Theo- 
 phanes does not so much support this story, as 
 the disposition of Pompey discredits it ; for there 
 was nothing so mean and illiberal in his am- 
 bition. 
 
 The whole care of providing and importing 
 corn being committed to Pompey, he sent his 
 deputies and agents into various parts, and went 
 in person into Sicily, Sardinia, and Africa, where 
 he collected great quantities. When he was 
 upon the point of re-embarking, a violent wind 
 sprung up, and the mariners made a difficulty of 
 putting to sea ; but he was the first to go on 
 board, and he ordered them to weigh anchor, 
 with these decisive words, “It is necessary to 
 go ; it is necessary to live.” ^ His success was 
 answerable to his spirit and intrepidity. He 
 filled the markets with corn, and covered the sea 
 with his ships ; insomuch that the overplus 
 afforded a supply to foreigners, and from Rome, 
 as from a fountain, plenty flowed over the world. 
 
 In the mean time the wars in Gaul lifted Caesar 
 to the first sphere of greatness. The scene of 
 action was at a great distance from Rome, and 
 he seemed to be wholly engaged with the Belgae, 
 the Suevi, and the Britons ; but his genius all 
 the while was privately at work aniong the people 
 of Rome, and he was undermining Pompey in 
 his most essential interests. His war with the 
 barbarians was not his principal object. He 
 exercised his army, indeed, in those expeditions, 
 as he would have done his own body, in hunting 
 
 authority for five years, both in and out of Italy. 
 Dio, lib. xxxix. 
 
 • Ptolemy Auletes, the son of Ptolemy Lathy- 
 rus, hated by his subjects, and forced to fly, 
 applied to the consul Spinther, who was to^ have 
 the province of Cilicia, to re-establish him in his 
 kingdom. Dio, ubi supra. 
 
POMPEY. 
 
 445 
 
 and other diversions of the field ; by which he 
 prepared them for higher conflicts, and rendered 
 them not only formidable but invincible. 
 
 The gold and silver, and other rich spoils which 
 he took from the enemy in great abundance, he 
 sent to Rome ; and by distributing them freely 
 among the aediles, praetors, consuls, and their 
 wives, he gained a great party. Consequently 
 when he passed the Alps and wintered at Lucca, 
 among the crowd of men and women, who hastened 
 to pay their respects to him, there were 200 
 senators, Pompey and Crassus of the number; 
 and there were no fewer than j2o proconsuls and 
 praetors, whose fasces were to be seen at the gates 
 of Caesar. He made it his business in general to 
 give them hopes of great things, and his money 
 was at their devotion ; but he entered into a 
 treaty with Crassus and Pompey, by which it 
 was agreed that they should apply for the consul- 
 ship, and that Caesar should assist them, by 
 sending a great number of his soldiers to vote 
 at the election. As soon as they were chosen, 
 they were to share the provinces, and take the 
 command of armies, according to their pleasure, 
 only confirming Caesar in the possession of what 
 he had, for five years more. 
 
 As soon as this treaty got air, the principal 
 persons in Rome were highly offended at it. 
 Marcellinus, then consul, planted himself amidst 
 the people, and asked Pompey and Crassus 
 whether they intended to stand for the consul- 
 ship. Pompey spoke first, and said,* perhaps he 
 might, perhaps he might not. Crassus answered 
 with more moderation, he should do what might 
 appear most expedient for the commonwealth. 
 As Marcellinus continued the discourse against 
 Pompey, and seemed to bear hard upon him, 
 Pompey said, “ Where is the honour of that man, 
 who has neither gratitude nor respect for him 
 who made him an orator, who rescued him from 
 want, and raised him to affluence 
 
 Others declined soliciting the consulship, but 
 Lucius Domitius was persuaded and encouraged 
 by Cato not to give it up. For the dispute, 
 he told him, was not for the consulship, but in 
 defence of liberty against tyrants. Pompey and 
 his adherents saw the vigour with which Cato 
 acted, and that all the senate was on his side. 
 Consequently they were afraid that, so supported, 
 he might bring over the uncorrupted part of the 
 people. They resolved, therefore, not to suffer 
 Domitius to enter Jorum, and sent a party of 
 men well armed, who killed Melitus, the torch- 
 bearer, and put the rest to flight. Cato retired 
 the last, and not till after he had received a 
 wound in his right elbow in defending Domitius. 
 
 Thus they obtained the consulship by violence, 
 and the rest of their measures were not con- 
 ducted with more moderation. For, in the first 
 place, when the people were going to choose 
 Cato prator, at the instant their suffrages were 
 to be taken, Pompey dismissed the assembly, 
 pretending he had seen an inauspicious flight of 
 birds. t Afterwards the tribes, corrupted with 
 
 * Dio makes him return an answer more suit- 
 u ^ character — “ It is not on account of 
 
 the virtuous and the good that I desire any share 
 m the magistracy, but that I may be able to re- 
 ^1^-disposed and the seditious.” 
 
 t This was making religion merely an engine 
 01 state, and it often proved a very convenient 
 
 money, declared Antius and Vatinius prsetors. 
 Then, in pursuance of their agreement with 
 Caesar, they put Trebonius, one of the tribunes, 
 on proposing a decree, by which the government 
 of me Gauls was continued for five years more 
 m C$sar ; Syria, and the command against the 
 Parthians, were given to Crassus ; and Pompey 
 was to have all Airica, and both the Spains, with 
 four legio iS, two of which he lent to Caesar, at 
 his request, for the war in Gaul. 
 
 Crassus, upon the expiration of his consulship, 
 repaired to his province. Pompey, remaining at 
 Rome, opened his theatre ; and, to make the dedi- 
 cation more magnificent, exhibited a variety of 
 gymnastic games, entertainments of music, and 
 battles with wild beasts, in which were killed 500 
 lions; but the battle of elephants afforded the 
 most astonishing spectacle.* * These things gained 
 him the love and admiration of the public ; but 
 he incurred their displeasure again, by leaving 
 his provinces and armies entirely to his friends 
 and lieutenants, and roving about Italy with his 
 wife from one villa to another. Whether it was 
 his passion for iier, or hers for him, that kept him 
 so much with her, is uncertain. For the latter 
 has been supposed to be the case, and nothing 
 was more talked of than the fondness of that 
 young woman for her husband, though at that 
 ap his person could hardly be any great object 
 of desire. But the charm of his fidelity was the 
 cause, together with his conversation, which, 
 notwithstanding his natural gravity, was par- 
 ticularly agreeable to the women, if we may 
 allow the courtesan Flora to be a sufficient evi- 
 dence. This strong attachment of J ulia appeared 
 on occasion of an election of aediles. The people 
 ^me to blows, and some were killed so near 
 Pompey that he was covered with blood, and 
 forced to change his clothes. There was a great 
 crowd and tumult about his door, when his 
 servants went home with a bloody robe ; and 
 Julia, who was with child, happening to see it, 
 tainted away, and was with difficulty recovered. 
 However, such was her terror and the agitation 
 of her spirits, that she miscarried. After this, 
 those who complained most of Pompey 's con- 
 nection with Caesar could not find fault with his 
 love of Juba. She was pregnant afterwards, and 
 brought him a daughter, but unfortunately died 
 m childbed ; nor did the child long survive her. 
 Pompey was preparing to bury her near a seat 
 of his at Alba, but the people seized the corpse 
 and interred it in the Campus Martins. This 
 they did more out of regard to the young. woman, 
 than either to Pompey or Caesar ; yet in the 
 honours they did her remains, their attachment 
 to Caesar, though at a distance, had a greater 
 
 one for the purposes of ambition. Clodius, though 
 otherwise one of the vilest tribunes that ever 
 existed, was very right in attempting to put a 
 stop to that means of dismissing an assembly. 
 He preferred a bill, that no magistrate should 
 make any observations in the heavens while the 
 people were assembled. 
 
 * Dio says the elephants fought with armed 
 men. There were no less than eighteen of them ; 
 and he adds, that some of them seemed to appeal, 
 with piteous cries to the people ; who, in com- 
 passion, saved their lives. If we may believe 
 him, an oath had been taken before they left 
 Africa, that no injury should be done them. 
 
446 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 share, than any respect for Pompey, who was 
 on the spot. 
 
 Immediately after Julia’s death, the people of 
 Rome were in great agitation, and there was 
 nothing in their speeches and actions which did 
 not tend to a rupture. The alliance, which rather 
 covered than restrained the ambition of the two 
 great competitors for power, was now no more. 
 To add to the misfortune, news was brought soon 
 after that Crassus was slain by the Parthians ; 
 and in him another great obstacle to a civil war 
 was removed. Out of fear of him, they had both 
 kept some measures with each other. But when 
 fortune had carried off the champion who could 
 take up the conqueror, we may say with the comic 
 poet— 
 
 High spirit of emprise 
 
 Elates each chief ; they oil their brawny limbs, 
 
 And dip their hands in dust. 
 
 So little able is fortune to fill the capacities of 
 the h#man mind ; when such a weight of power, 
 and extent of command, could not satisfy the 
 ambition of two men. They had heard and read 
 that the gods had divided the universe into three 
 shares,* and each was content with that which 
 fell to his lot, and yet these men could not think 
 the Roman empire sufficient for two of them. 
 
 Yet Pompey, in an address to the people at 
 that time, told them he had received every 
 commission they had honoured him with sooner 
 than he expected himself ; and laid it down 
 sooner than was expected by the world. And 
 indeed, the dismission of his troops always bore 
 witness to the truth of that assertion. But now, 
 being persuaded that Caesar would not disband 
 his army, he endeavoured to fortify himself 
 against him by great employments at home ; and 
 this without attempting any other innovation. 
 For he would not appear to distrust him ; on the 
 contrai'y, he rather affected to despise him. 
 However, when he saw the great offices of state 
 not disposed of agreeably to his desire, but that 
 the people were influenced, and his adversaries 
 preferred for money, he thought it would best 
 serve his cause to suffer anarchy to prevail. In 
 consequence of the reigning disorders, a dictator 
 was much talked of. Lucilius, one of the tribunes, 
 was the first who ventured to propose it in form 
 to the people, and he exhorted them to choose 
 Pompey dictator. Cato opposed it so effectually 
 that the tribune was in danger of being deposed. 
 Many of Pompey ’s friends then stood up in 
 defence, of the purity of his intentions, and 
 declared, he neither asked nor wished for the 
 dictatorship. Cato, upon this, paid the highest 
 compliments to Pompey, and entreated him to 
 assist in the support of order and of the con- 
 stitution. Pompey could not but accede to such 
 
 * Plutarch alludes here to a passage in the 
 fifteenth book of the Iliad, where Neptune says 
 to Iris— 
 
 Assign’d by lot our triple rule we know ; 
 Infernal Pluto sways the shades below ; 
 
 O’er the wide clouds, and o’er the starry plain, 
 Etherial Jove extends his high domain : 
 
 My court beneath the hoary waves I keep. 
 
 And hush the roarings of the sacred deep. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 a proposal, and Domitius and Messala were 
 elected consuls.* 
 
 The same anarchy and confusion afterwards 
 took place again, and numbers began to talk 
 more boldly of setting up a dictator. Cato, now 
 fearing he should be overborne, was of opinion 
 that it were better to give Pompey some office 
 whose authority was limited by law, than to 
 intrust him with absolute power. Bibulus, 
 though Pompey’s declared enemy, moved in full 
 senate, that he should be appointed sole consul. 
 “For by that means,” said he, “the common- 
 wealth will either recover from her disorder, or, 
 if she must serve, will serve a man of the greatest 
 merit.” The whole house was surprised at the 
 motion ; and when Cato rose up, it was expected 
 he would oppose it. A profound silence ensued, 
 and he said, he should never have been the 
 first to propose such an expedient, but as it was 
 proposed by another, he thought it advisable to 
 embrace it ; for he thought any kind of govern- 
 ment better than anarchy, and knew no man 
 fitter to rule than Pompey, in a time of so much 
 trouble. The senate came into his opinion, and 
 a decree was issued, that Pompey should be 
 appointed sole consul, and that if he should have 
 need of a colleague, he might choose one himself, 
 provided it were not before the expiration of two 
 months. 
 
 Pompey being declared sole consul by the 
 Interrex Sulpitius, made his compliments to 
 Cato, acknowledged himself much indebted to his 
 support, and desired his advice and assistance in 
 the cabinet, as to the measures to be pursued 
 in his administration. Cato made answer, that 
 Pompey was not under the least obligation to 
 him ; for what he had said was not out of regard 
 to him, but to his country. “ If you apply to me,” 
 continued he, “ I shall give you my advice in 
 private ; if not, I shall inform you of my senti- 
 ments in public.” Such was Cato, and the same 
 on all occasions. 
 
 Pompey then went into the city, and married 
 Cornelia, the daughter of Metellus Scipio.f She 
 was not a virgin, but a widow, having been 
 married, when very young, to Publius the son of 
 Crassus, who was lately killed in the Parthian 
 expedition. This woman had many charms 
 beside her beauty. She was well versed in polite 
 literature ; she played upon the lyre, and under- 
 stood geometry ; and she had made considerable 
 improvements by the precepts of philosophy. 
 What is more, she had nothing of that petulance 
 and affectation which such studies are apt to 
 produce in women of her age. And her father’s 
 family and reputation were unexceptionable. 
 
 Many, however, were displeased with this 
 match, on account of the disproportion of years ; 
 they thought Cornelia would have been more 
 
 * In the year of Rome 700. Such corruption 
 now prevailed among the Romans that candidates 
 for the curule offices brought their money openly 
 to the place of election, where they distributed it, 
 without blushing, among the heads of factions ; 
 and those who received it employed force and 
 violence in favour of those persoAs who paid 
 them ; so that scarce any office was disposed of 
 but what had been disputed with the sword, and 
 cost the lives of many citizens. 
 
 t The son of Scipio Nasica, but adopted into 
 the family of the Metelli. 
 
POMPEY. 
 
 447 
 
 suitable to his son than to him. Those that were 
 capable of deeper reflection thought the concerns 
 of the commonwealth neglected, which in a dis- 
 tressful case had chosen him for its physician, 
 and confided in him alone. It grieved them to 
 see him crowned with garlands, and offering 
 sacrifice amidst the festivities of marriage, when 
 he ought to have considered his consulship as a 
 public calamity, since it would never have been 
 given him in a manner so contrary to the laws, 
 had his country been in a prosperous situation. 
 
 His first step was to bring those to account 
 who gained offices and employments by bribery 
 and corruption, and he made laws by which the 
 
 roceedings in their trials were to be regulated. 
 
 n other respects he behaved with great dignity 
 and honour ; and restored security, order, and 
 tpnquility, to the courts of judicature, by pre- 
 siding there in person with a band of soldiers. 
 But when Scipio his father-in-law, came to be 
 impeached, he sent for the 360 judges to his house, 
 and desired their assistance. The accuser, seeing 
 Scipio conducted out of the forum to his house, 
 by the judges themselves, dropped the prose- 
 cution. This again exposed Poinpey to censure ; 
 but he was censured still more, when after having 
 made a law against encomiums on persons accused, 
 he broke it himself, by appearing for Plancus, 
 and attempting to embellish his character. Cato, 
 v/ho happened to be one of the judges, stopped 
 his ears ; declaring it was not right for him 
 to hear such embellishments, contrary to law. 
 Cato, therefore, was objected to and set a.side 
 before sentence was passed. Plancus, however, 
 was condemned by the other judges, to the great 
 confusion of Pompey.* 
 
 A few days after, Hypsseus, a man of consular 
 dignity, being under a criminal prosecution, 
 watched Pompey going from the bath to supper, 
 and embraced his knees in the most suppliant 
 manner. But Pompey passed with disdain, and 
 all the answer he gave him was, that his impor- 
 tunities served only to spoil his supjaer. This 
 partial and unequal behaviour was justly the 
 object of reproach. But all the rest of his con- 
 duct merited praise, and he had ^he happiness to 
 re-establish good order in the commonwealth. 
 He took his father-in-law for his colleague the 
 remaining five months. His governments were 
 continued to him for four years more, and he was 
 allowed 1000 talents a year for the subsistence 
 and pay of his troops. 
 
 Ca:s^ s friends laid hold on this occasion to 
 represent, that some consideration should be had 
 of him too, and his many great and laborious 
 services for his countrj'. They said, he certainly 
 o^serv'ed either another consulship, or to have 
 the term of his commission prolonged ; that he 
 might keep the command in the provinces he 
 had conquered, and enjoy, undisturbed, the 
 honours he had won, and that no successor might 
 rob him ot the fruit of his labours or the glory of 
 his actions. A dispute arising upon the affair, 
 Pompey, as if inclined to fence against the 
 odium to which Caesar might be exposed by this 
 denaand, said, he had letters from Caesar, in which 
 ne declared himself willing to accept a successor, 
 
 * managed the impeachment, was 
 
 much delighted with the success of his eloquence ; 
 as appears from his epistle to Marius, lib. vii. 
 ep. 2. 
 
 and to give up the command in Gaul ; only he 
 thought it reasonable that he should be per- 
 mitted, though absent, to stand for the consul- 
 ship.* Cato ^posed this with all his force, and 
 insisted, that Caesar should lay down his arms, 
 and return as a private man, if he had any favour 
 to ask of his country. And as Pompey did not 
 labour the point, but easily acquiesced, it was 
 suspected that he had no real friendship for 
 Caesar. This appeared more clearly, when he 
 sent for the two legions which he had lent him, 
 under pretence of wanting them for the Parthian 
 war. Caesar, though he well knew for what pur- 
 pose the legions were demanded, sent them home 
 laden with rich presents. 
 
 After this, Pompey had a dangerous illness at 
 Naples, of which, hov/ever, he recovered. Praxa- 
 goras then advised the Neapolitans to offer sacri- i 
 fices to the gods, in gratitude for his recovery. 
 The neighbouring cities followed their example ; 
 and the humour spreading itself over Italy, there 
 was not a town or village which did not solemnize 
 the occasion with festivals. No place could 
 afford room for the crowds that came in from 1 
 all quarters to meet him ; the high roads, the 
 villages, the ports were filled with sacrifices and 
 entertainments. Many received him with gar- 
 lands on their heads and torches in their hands, 
 and, as they conducted him on his way, strewed 
 it with flowers. His returning with such pomp ' 
 afforded a glorious spectacle ; but it is said to 
 have been one of the principal causes of the civil 
 war. For the joy he conceived on this occasion, 
 added to the high opinion he had of his achieve- 
 ments, intoxicated him so far, that, bidding adieu 
 to the caution and prudence which had put his 
 good fortune and the glory of his actions upon a ’ 
 sure footing, he gave ip to the most extravagant 
 presumption, and even contempt of Caesar ; inso- 
 much, th: t he declared he had no need of arms, 
 nor any extraordinary preparations against him, 
 since he could pull him dov/n with much more 
 ease than he had set him up. 
 
 Besides, when Appius returned from Gaul with 
 the legions which had been lent to Caesar, he 
 endeavoured to disparage the actions of that 
 general, and to represent him in a mean light. 
 Pompey, he said, knew not his own strength 
 and the influence of his name, if he sought any 
 other defence against Caesar, upon whom his own 
 forces would turn, as soon as they saw the former ; 
 such was their hatred of the one, and their affec- 
 tion for the other. 
 
 Pompey was so much elated at this account, 
 and his confidence made him so extremely neg- 
 ligent, that he laughed at those who seemed to 
 fear the war. And when they said, that if Caesar 
 should advance in a hostile manner to Rome, 
 they did not see what forces they had to oppose 
 him, he bade them, wdth an open and smiling 
 countenance, give themselves no pain : “ For, if 
 in Italy," said he, “ I do but stamp upon the 
 ground, an army will appear.” 
 
 Meantime Caesar was exerting himself greatly. 
 
 He was now at no great di.stance from Italy, and 
 not only sent his soldiers to vote in the elections, 
 
 * ITiere was a law against any absent person 
 being admitted a candidate ; but Pompey had 
 added a clause which empowered the people to 
 except any man by name from personal attend- 
 ance. 
 
44S 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 but by private pecuniary applications, corrupted 
 many of the magistrates. Paulus the consul was 
 of the number, and he had 1500 talents * for 
 changing sides. So were also Curio, one of the 
 tribunes of the people, for whom he paid off an 
 immense debt, and Mark Antony, who, out of 
 friendship for Curio, had stood engaged with him 
 for the debt. ^ 
 
 It is said, that when one of Csesar s officers, 
 who stood before the senate-house, waiting the 
 issue of the debates, was informed, that they 
 would not give Csesar a longer term in his com- 
 mand, he laid his hand upon his sword, and said, 
 “ But this shall give it.” 
 
 Indeed, all the actions and preparations of his 
 general tended that way ; though Curio’s de- 
 mands in behalf of Csesar seemed more plausible. 
 He proposed, that either Pompey should likewise 
 be obliged to dismiss his forces, or Caesar suffered 
 to keep his. “ If they are both reduced to a 
 private station,” said he, “ they will agree upon 
 reasonable terms ; or, if each retains his respec- 
 tive power, they will be satisfied. But he who 
 weakens the one, without doing the same by the 
 other, must double that force which he fears will 
 subvert the government.” t 
 
 Hereupon Marcellus the consul called Csesar a 
 public robber, and insisted that he should be 
 declared an enemy to the state, if he did not lay 
 down his arms. However, Curio, together with 
 Antony and Piso, prevailed that a farther inquiry 
 should be made into the sense of the senate. He 
 first proposed, that such as were of opinion, that 
 Csesar should disband his army, and Pompey 
 keep his, should draw to one side of the house, 
 and there appeared a majority for that motion. 
 Then he proposed, that the number of those 
 should be taken, whose sense it was, that both 
 should lay down their arms, and neither remain 
 in command ; upon which question. Pompey had 
 only twenty-two, and Curio all the rest.J Curio, 
 proud of his victory, ran in transports of joy to 
 the assembly of the people, who received him 
 with the loudest plaudits, and crowned him with 
 flowers. Pompey was not present at the debate 
 in the house ; for the commander of an army is 
 not allowed to enter the city. But Marcellus 
 rose up and said, “I will no longer sit to hear 
 the matter canvassed ; but, as I see ten legions 
 have already passed the Alps, I will send a man 
 to oppose them in behalf of my country.” 
 
 Upon this, the city went into mourning, as in 
 a time of public calamity. Marcellus walked 
 through the foriimy followed by the senate, and 
 when he was in sight of Pompey without the 
 gate, he said, “ Pompey, I charge you to assist 
 your country ; for which purpose you shall make 
 use of the troops you have, and levy what new 
 
 * ;^3io, 685 sterling. With this money he built 
 the stately Basilicay that afterwards bore his 
 name. 
 
 f Cornelius Scipio, one of Pompey’s friends, 
 remonstrated, that, in the present case, a great 
 difference was to be made between the proconsul 
 of Spain and the proconsul of Gaul, since the 
 term of the former was not expired, whereas that 
 of the latter was. 
 
 X Dio, on the contrary, affirms that, upon this 
 question, the senate were almost unanimous for 
 Pompey ; only two voting for Csesar, viz. Marcus 
 Csecilius and Curio. 
 
 ones you please.” Lentulus, one of the consuls 
 elect for the next year, said the same. But when 
 Pompey came to make the new levies, some abso- 
 lutely refused to enlist ; others gave in their 
 names in small numbers and with no spirit ; and 
 the greatest part called out, “ A peace ! A 
 peace ! ” For Antony, notwithstanding the in- 
 junction of the senate to the contrary, had read a 
 letter of Csesar’s to the people, well calculated to 
 gain them. He proposed, that both Pompey and 
 he should resign their governments and dismiss 
 their forces, and then come and give an account 
 of their conduct to the people. 
 
 Lentulus, who by this time had entered upon 
 his office, would not assemble the senate ; for 
 Cicero, who was now returned from his govern- 
 ment in Cilicia, endeavoured to bring about a 
 reconciliation. He proposed, that Csesar should 
 give up Gaul and disband the greatest part of 
 his army, and keeping only two legions and the 
 province of Illyricum, wait for another consul- 
 ship. As Pompey received this proposal very ill, 
 Csesar’s friends were persuaded to agree, that he 
 should only keep one of those two legions. But 
 Lentulus was against it, and Cato cried out, 
 that Pompey was committing a second error, 
 in suffering himself to be so imposed upon ; the 
 reconciliation, therefore, did not take effect. 
 
 At the same time news was brought, that 
 Csesar had seized Arminium, a considerable city 
 in Italy, and that he was marching directly 
 towards Rome with all his forces. The last cir- 
 cumstance, indeed, was not true. He advanced 
 with only 300 horse and 5000 foot ; the rest of his 
 forces were on the other side of the Alps, and he 
 would not wait for them, choosing rather to put 
 his adversaries in confusion by a sudden and un- 
 expected attack, than to fight them when better 
 prepared. When he came to the river Rubicon, 
 which was the boundary of his province, he 
 stood silent a long time, weighing with himself 
 the greatness of his enterprise. At last, like one 
 who plunges down irom the top of a precipice 
 into a gulf of immense depth, he silenced his 
 reason, and shut his eyes against the danger ; and 
 crying out, in the Greek language, “The die is 
 cast,” he marched over with his army. 
 
 Upon the first report of this at Rome, the city 
 was in greater disorder and astonishment than 
 had ever been known. The senate and the 
 magistrates ran immediately to Pompey. Tullus 
 asked him,* what forces he had ready for war ; 
 and as he hesitated in his answer, and only said 
 at last, in a tone of no great assurance, that he 
 had the two legions lately sent him back by 
 Csesar, and that out of the new levies he believed 
 he should shortly be able to make up a body of 
 30,000 men; Tullus exclaimed, “O Pompey, 
 you have deceived us ! ” and gave it as his 
 opinion, that ambassadors should immediately be 
 despatched to Csesar. Then one Favonius, a 
 man otherwise of no ill character, but who by an 
 insolent brutality, affected to imitate the noble 
 freedom, of Cato, bade Pompey stamp upon the 
 ground, and call forth the armies he had pro- 
 mised. 
 
 Pompey bore this ill-timed reproach with great 
 mildness ; and when Cato put him in mind of the 
 warnings he had given him as to Csesar, from 
 the first, he said Cato indeed had spoken more 
 
 * Lucius Volcatius Tullus. 
 
POMPEY. 
 
 like a prophet, and ^ had acted more like a 
 friend. Cato then advised that Pompey should 
 not only be appointed general, but invested with 
 a discretionary power : adding, that those who 
 were the authors of great evils knew best how to 
 cure them. So saying, he set out for his province 
 of Sicily, and the other great officers departed 
 for theirs. 
 
 Almost all Italy was now in motion, and no- 
 thing could be more perplexed than the whole 
 face of things. Those who lived out of Rome 
 fled to it Irom all quarters, and those who lived 
 in it abandoned it as fast. These saw, that in 
 such a tempestuous and disorderly state of 
 affairs, the well disposed part of the city wanted 
 strength, and that the ill disposed were so refrac- 
 tory that they could not be managed by the 
 magistrates. The terrors of the people could not 
 be removed, and no one would suffer Pompey to 
 lay a plan of action for himself. According to 
 the passion wherewith each was actuated, 
 whether fear, sorrow, or doubt, they endeavoured 
 to inspire him with the same ; insomuch that he 
 adopted different measures the same day. He 
 could gain no certain intelligence of the enemy’s 
 motions, because every man brought him the 
 report he happened to take up, and was angry if 
 it did not meet with credit. 
 
 Poinpey at last caused it to be declared by an 
 edict in form, that the commonwealth w'as in 
 danger, and no peace to be expected. After 
 which, he signified that he should look upon 
 those who remained in the city as the partisans 
 of Csesar ; and then quitted it in the dusk of the 
 evening. The consuls also fled, without offering 
 the sacrifices which their customs required before 
 a war. However, in this great extremity, Pom- 
 pey could not but be considered as happy in the 
 affections of his countrymen. Though many 
 blamed the war, there was not a man who hated 
 the general. Nay, the number of those who 
 follow'ed him, out of attachment to his person, 
 was greater than that of the adventurers in the 
 cause of liberty. 
 
 A few days after, Caesar arrived at Rome. 
 When he was in possession of the city, he behaved 
 with great moderation in many respects, and 
 composed, in a good measure, the minds of its 
 remaining inhabitants. Only when Metellus, 
 one of the tribunes of the people, forbade him to 
 touch the money in the public treasury, he threat- 
 ened him with death, adding an expression more 
 terrible than the threat itself, that it was easier 
 for him to do it than to say it. Metellus being 
 thus frightened off, Caesar took what sums he 
 wanted, and then went in pursuit of Pompey ; 
 hastening to drive him out of Italy, before his 
 forces could arrive from Spain. 
 
 , was master of Brundusium, and 
 
 had a sufficient number of transports, desired the 
 consuls to embark without loss of lime, and sent 
 them before him with thirty cohorts to Dyrrha- 
 chium. But at the same time fie sent his father-in- 
 law Scipio and his son Cnaeus into Syria, to 
 provide ships of war. He had well secured the 
 gates of the city, and planted the lightest of his 
 shngers and archers upon the walls ; and having 
 now ordered the Brundusians to keep within 
 caused a number of trenches to be cut, 
 ana sharp stakes to be driven into them, and then 
 earth, in all the streets, except two 
 \\ hich led down to the sea. In three days all his 
 
 other troops w'^ere embarked without interruption ; 
 
 suddenly gave the signal to those 
 who guarded the walls ; in consequence of which, 
 they ran swiftly down to the harbour, and got on 
 board. T-hus having his whole complement, he 
 set sail, and crossed the sea to Dyrrhachium. 
 
 When Csesar came and saw the walls left 
 destitute of defence,* he concluded that Pompey 
 had taken to flight, and in his eagerness to 
 pursue, would certainly have fallen up^n the 
 sha^ stakes in the 'trenches, had not the Brun- 
 dusians informed him of them. He then avoided 
 the streets, and took a circuit round the town, by 
 which he discovered that all the vessels were set 
 out, except two that had not many soldiers 
 aboard. 
 
 This manoeuvre of Pompey was commonly 
 reckoned among the greatest acts of generalship. 
 Csesar, however, could not help wondering, that 
 his adversary, who w^ in possession of a fortified 
 town, and expected his forces from Spain, and at 
 the same time was master of the sea, should give 
 up Italy in such a manner. Cicero,! too, blamed 
 him for imitating the conduct of Themistocles, 
 rather than that of Pericles, when the posture of 
 his affairs more resembled the circumstances of 
 the latter. On the other hand, the steps which 
 Caesar took showed he was afraid of having the 
 war drawn out to any length : for having taken 
 Numerius,! a friend of Pompey s, he had sent 
 him to Brundusium, with offers of coming to an 
 accommodation upon reasonable terms. But 
 Numerius, instead of returning with an answer, 
 sailed away with Pompey. 
 
 Caesar thus made himself master of all Italy in 
 sixty days without the least bloodshed, and he 
 w'ould have been glad to have gone immediately 
 in pursuit of Pompey. But as he was in want of 
 shipping, he gave up that design for the present, 
 and marched to Spain, with an intent to gain the 
 forces there. 
 
 In the mean time Pompey assembled a great 
 anny ; and at sea^ he was altogether invincible. 
 For he had 500 ships of war, and the number of 
 his lighter vessels w^as still greater. As for his 
 land forces, he had 7000 horse, the flower of 
 Rome and Italy,§ all men of family, fortune, and 
 courage. His infantry, though numerous, was a 
 mixture of raw, undisciplined soldiers : he there- 
 fore exercised them during his stay at Beroea, 
 where he was by no means idle, but went through 
 all the exercises of a soldier, as if he had been in 
 the flow^er of his age. It inspired his troops w ith 
 new courage, when they saw Pompey the Great, 
 at the age of fifty- eight, going through the whole 
 
 * Caesar besieged the place nine days, during 
 which he not only invested it on the land side, 
 but undertook to shut up the port by a staccado 
 of his own invention. However, before the work 
 could be completed, Pompey made his escape. 
 
 t Ep. toAtticus, vii. ii. 
 
 t Caesar calls him Cn. Magins. He was 
 master of Pompey’s Board of Works. 
 
 § Caesar on the contrary says, that this body of 
 horse was almost entirely composed of strangers. 
 “There were 600 Galatians, 500 Cappadocians, as 
 many Thracians, 200 Macedonians, 500 Gauls^ or 
 Germans, 800 raised out of his own estates, or out 
 of his own retinue ; ” and so of the rest, whom he 
 particularly mentions, and tells us to what 
 countries they belonged. 
 
 2 G 
 
450 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 military discipline, in heavy armour, on foot ; and 
 then mounting his horse, drawing his sword with 
 ease when at full speed, and as dexterously 
 sheathing it again. As to the javelin, he threw 
 it not only with great exactness, but with such 
 force that few of the young men could dart it to 
 a greater distance. 
 
 Many kings and princes repaired to his camp : 
 and the number of Roman officers who had com- 
 manded armies was so great, that it was sufficient 
 to make up a complete senate. Labienus,* who 
 had been honoured with Csesar’s friendship, and 
 served under him in Gaul, now joined Pompey. 
 Even Brutus, the son of that Brutus who was 
 killed by him not very fairly in Cisalpine Gaul, a 
 man of spirit, who had never spoken to Pompey 
 before, because he considered him as the mur- 
 derer of his father, now ranged himself under his 
 banners, as the defender of the liberties of his 
 country. Cicero too, though he had written and 
 advised otherwise, was ashamed not to appear in 
 the number of those who hazarded their lives for 
 Rome. Tidius Sextius, though extremely old, 
 and maimed of one leg, repaired, among the rest, 
 to his standard in Macedonia ; and though others 
 only laughed at the poor appearance he made, 
 Pompey no sooner cast his eyes upon him than he 
 rose up, and ran to meet him ; considering it as a 
 great proof of the justice of his cause, that, in 
 spite of age and weakness, persons should come 
 and seek danger with him, rather than stay at 
 home in safety. 
 
 But after Pompey had assembled his senate, 
 and at the motion of Cato, a decree was made, 
 that no Roman should be killed except in battle, 
 nor any city that was subject to the Romans be 
 plundered, Pompey’s party gained ground daily. 
 Those who lived at too great a distance, or were 
 too weak to take a share in the war, interested 
 themselves in the cause as much as they were 
 able, and with words at least, contended for it ; 
 looking upon them as enemies both to the gods 
 and men, who did not wish that Pompey might 
 conquer. 
 
 Not but that Caesar made a merciful use of his 
 victories. He had lately made himself master 
 of Pompey's forces in Spain, and though it was 
 not without a battle, he dismissed the officers, 
 and incorporated the troops with his own. After 
 this, he passed the Alps again, and marched 
 through Italy to Brundusium, where he arrived 
 at the time of the winter solstice. There he 
 crossed the sea, and landed at Oricura ; from 
 whence he despatched Vibullius,f one of Pom- 
 
 pey’s friends, whom he had brought prisoner 
 thither, with proposals of a conference between 
 him and Pompey, in which they should agree to 
 disband their armies within three days, renew 
 their friendship, confirm it with solemn oath, and 
 then both return to Italy. 
 
 Pompey took this overture for another snare, 
 and therefore drew down in haste to the sea, and 
 secured all the forts and places of strength for 
 land forces, as well as all the ports and other 
 commodious stations for shipping ; so that there 
 was not a wind that blew, which did not bring 
 him either provisions, or troops, or money. On 
 the other hand, Caesar was reduced to such 
 straits, both by sea and land, that he was under 
 the necessity of seeking a battle. Accordingly, 
 he attacked Pompey’s intrenchments, and bade 
 him defiance daily. In most 6f these attacks 
 and, skirmishes he had the advantage; but one 
 day was in danger of losing his whole army. 
 Pompey fought with so much valour, that he put 
 Caesar’s whole detachment to flight, after having 
 killed 2000 men upon the spot; but was either 
 unable or afraid to pursue his blow, and enter 
 their camp with them. Caesar said to his friends 
 on the occasion, “ This day the victory had been 
 the enemy’s had their general known how to 
 conquer.” * 
 
 Pompey’s troops, elated with this success, 
 were in great haste to come to a decisive battle. 
 Nay, Pompey himself seemed to give in to their 
 opinions by writing to the kings, the generals, 
 and cities, in his interest, in the style of a con- 
 queror. Yet all this while he dreaded the issue 
 of a general action, believing it much better, 
 by length of time, by famine and fatigue, to tire 
 out men who had been ever invincible in arms, 
 and long accustomed to conquer when they 
 fought together. Besides, he knew the infirmities 
 of age had made them unfit for the other opera- 
 tions of war, for long marches and counter- 
 marches, for digging trenches and building forts, 
 and that, therefore, they wished for nothing so 
 much as a battle. Pompey, with all these argu- 
 ments, found it no easy matter to keep his army 
 quiet. 
 
 After this last engagement, Csesar was in such 
 want of provisions, that he was forced to de- 
 camp, and he took his way through Athamapia 
 into Thessaly. This added so much to the high 
 opinion Pompey’s soldiers had of themselves, 
 that it was impossible to keep it within bounds. 
 
 allowing himself any rest, till he peached Pom- 
 pey’s camp, who had not yet received advice of 
 Csesar’s arrival ; but was no sooner informed of 
 the taking of Oricum and Apollonia, than he 
 immediately decamped, and by long marches 
 reached Oricum before Csesar. 
 
 * Yet it may be observed, in defence of Pom- 
 pey, that as his troops were raw and inex- 
 perienced, it was not amiss to try them in many 
 skirmishes and light attacks, before he hazarded 
 a general engagement with an army of veterans. 
 Many instances of that kind might be produced 
 from the conduct of the ablest generals. And 
 we are persuaded that if Pompey had attempted 
 to force Csesar’s camp he would have been re- 
 pulsed with loss and disgrace. Pompey’s greatest 
 error seems to have been, his sufiering himself to 
 be brought to an action at last by the importunity 
 of his officers and soldiers. 
 
 * It seemed very strange, says Dio, that La- 
 biisnus should abandon Caesar, who had loaded 
 him with honours and given him the command of 
 all the forces on the other side of the Alps, while 
 he was at Rome. But he gives this reason for 
 it : “Labienus, elated with his immense wealth, 
 and proud of his preferments, forgot himself to 
 such a degree as to assume a character very 
 unbecoming a person in his circumstances. He 
 was even for putting himself upon an equality 
 with Caesar, who thereupon grew cool towards 
 him, and treated him with some reserve, which 
 Labienus resented, and went over to Pompey.” 
 t In the printed text it is Jubius; but one of 
 the manuscripts gives us Vihullius, which is the 
 name _ he has in Caesar’s Commen. lib. iii. 
 Vibullius Rufus travelled night and day, without 
 
POMPEY. 4^1 
 
 They cried out with one voice, ‘‘ Caesar is fled.’' 
 Some called upon the general to pursue : some 
 to pass over into Italy. Others sent their friends 
 and servants to Rome, to engage houses near 
 foru7ti, for the convenience of soliciting the 
 great officers of state. And not a few went of 
 their own accord to Cornelia, who had been 
 privately lodged in Lesbos, to congratulate her 
 upon the conclusion of the war. 
 
 On this great emergency, a council of war was 
 called ; in which Afranius gave it as his opinion, 
 that they ought immediately to regain Italy, for 
 that was the great prize aimed at in the war. 
 Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, Spain, and both the 
 Gauls would soon submit to those who were 
 masters there. What should affect Pompey still 
 more was, that his native country, just by, 
 stretched out her hands to him as a suppliant ; 
 and it could not be consistent with his honour to 
 let her remain under such indignities, and in so 
 disgraceful a vassalage to the slaves and flatterers 
 of^ tyrants. But Pompey thought it would 
 neither be for his reputation, to fly a second time 
 ffom Casar, and again to be pursued, when 
 Fortune put it in his power to pursue ; nor 
 agreeable to the laws of piety, to leave his 
 father-in-law Scipio, and manv other persons 
 of consular dignity, in Greece and Thessaly, a 
 prey to Caesar, with all their treasures and forces. 
 As for Rome, he should take the best care of 
 her, by fixing the scene of war at the greatest 
 distance from her ; that, without feeling its 
 calamities, or perhaps hearing the report of them, 
 she might quietly wait for the conqueror. 
 
 This opinion prevailing, he set out in pursuit 
 of Caesar, with a resolution not to hazard a 
 battle, but to keep near enough to hold him, as 
 It were, besieged, and to wear him out with 
 famine. This he thought the best method he 
 could take ; and a report was, moreover, brought 
 him, of Its being whispered among the eques- 
 man order, that as soon as they had taken off 
 Caesar, they could do nothing better than take 
 him off too. Some say, this was the reason why 
 he did not employ Cato in any service of im- 
 portance, but, upon his march against Caesar, 
 sent him to the sea-coast, to take care of the 
 baggage, lest, after he had destroyed Caesar, 
 Cato should soon oblige him to lay down his 
 commission. 
 
 While he thus softly followed the enemy’s 
 steps, a complaint was raised against him, and 
 urged with much clarnour, that he was not ex- 
 ercising his generalship upon Caesar, but upon 
 the senate and the whole commonwealth, in 
 order that he might for ever keep the command 
 in his hands, and have those for his guards and 
 ^rvants, wl^ had a right to govern the world. 
 Lomitius iFnobarbus, to increase the odiuin, 
 alwa3^s called him Agamemnon, or king of kings. 
 1-avonius piqued him no less with a jest, than 
 others by their unseasonable severity ; he went 
 about crying, “ My friends, we shall eat no figs 
 in lusculum this year.” And Lucius Afranius 
 who lost the forces in Spain, and was accused of 
 Having oetrayed them into the enemy’s hand 
 now when he saw Pompey avoid a battle, said i 
 accusers should make i 
 ^ fighting that merchant (as they ( 
 called him) who trafficked for provinces. i 
 
 sallies of ridicule i 
 had such an effect upon Pompey, who was 1 
 
 ^tnbitious of being spoken well of by the world, 
 
 • had too much deference for the opinions of 
 
 1 his friends, that he gave up his own better judg- 
 ment, to follow them in the career of their false 
 _ hopes and prosperts. A thing which would have 
 been unpardonable in the pilot or master of a 
 ship, much more in the commander in chief of 
 ^ many nations, and such numerous armies. 
 He had often commended the physician who 
 gives no indulgence to the whimsical longings of 
 his patients, and yet he humoured the sickly 
 cravings of his army, and was afraid to give 
 them pain, though necessary for the preservation 
 of their life and being. For who can say that 
 army was in a sound and healthy state, when 
 some of the officers went about the camp can- 
 vassing for the offices of consul and praetor ; 
 and others, namely Spinther, Domitius, and 
 Scipio, were engaged in quarrels and cabals 
 about Caesar’s high-priesthood, as if their ad- 
 versary had been only a Tigranes, a king of 
 Armenia, or a prince of the Nabathaeans ; and 
 not that Caesar and that army, who had stormed 
 looo cities, subdued above 300 nations, gained 
 numberless battles of the Germans and Gauls, 
 taken 1,000,000 prisoners, and killed as many 
 fairly m the field. Notwithstanding all this, 
 they continued loud and tumultuous in their 
 demands of a battle, and when they came to the 
 plains of Pharsalia, forced Pompey to call a 
 council of war. Labienus, who had the com- 
 mand of the cavalry, rose up first, and took an 
 fi® would not return from the battle, 
 tiU he had put the enemy to flight. All the other 
 officers swore the same. 
 
 The night following, Pompey had this dream. 
 He thought he entered his own theatre, and 
 was received with loud plaudits ; after which, he 
 adonied the temple of Venus t/ie V^ictorious with 
 many spoils. This vision, on one side, en- 
 ^uraged him, and on the other alarmed him. 
 He was afraid that C$sar, who was a descendant 
 of Venus, would be aggrandized at his expense. 
 Besides, a panic * fear ran through the camp, the 
 noise of which awakened him. And about the 
 morning watch, over Caesar’s camp, where every- 
 thing was perfectly quiet, there suddenly ap- 
 peared a great light, from which a stream of fire 
 issued in the form of a torch, and fell upon that 
 of Pompey. Caesar himself says he saw it as 
 he was going his rounds. 
 
 Caesar was preparing, at break of daj’-, to 
 march to Scotusa : f his soldiers were striking 
 their tents, and the servants, and beasts of 
 burden, were already in motion, when his scouts 
 brought intelligence, that they had seen arms 
 handed about in the enemy’s camp, and per- 
 ceived a noise and bustle, which indicated an ap- 
 proaching battle. After these, others came and 
 assured him, that the first ranks were drawn up. 
 
 * Panic fears were so called, from the terror 
 which the god Pu7i is said to have struck the 
 enemies of Greece with, at the battle of Mara- 
 thon. 
 
 t Scotusa was a city of Thessaly. Csesar was 
 persuaded that Pompey would not come to 
 action, and therefore chose to march in search 
 Di provisions, as well as to harass the enemy 
 svith frequent movements, and to watch an op- 
 portunity, in some of those movements, to fall 
 jpon them. 
 
452 
 
 PLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 Upon this Csesar said, “The long-wished day 
 is come, on which we shall fight with men, and 
 not with want and famine.” Then he imme- 
 diately ordered the red mantle to be put up 
 before his pavilion, which, among the Romans, 
 is the signal of a battle. The soldiers no sooner 
 beheld it, than they left their tents as they were, 
 and ran to arms with loud shouts, and every 
 expression of joy. And when the officers began 
 to put them in order of battle, each man fell into 
 his proper rank as quietly, and with as much 
 skill and ease, as a chorus in a tragedy. 
 
 Pompey * placed himself in his right wing over 
 against Antony, and his father-in-law, Scipio, in 
 the centre, opposite Domitius Calvinus.^ His left 
 wing was commanded by Lucius Domitius, and 
 supported by the cavalry : for they were almost 
 all ranged on that side, in order to break in upon 
 Csesar, and cut off the tenth legion, which was 
 accounted the bravest in his army, and in which 
 he used to fight in person. Csesar, seeing the 
 enemy’s left wing so well guarded with horse, 
 and fearing the excellence of their armour, sent 
 for a detachment of six cohorts from the body 
 of reserve, and placed them behind the tenth 
 legion, with orders not to stir before the attack, 
 lest they should be discovered by the enemy ; 
 but -when the enemy’s cavalry had charged, to 
 make up through the foremost ranks, and then 
 not to discharge their javelins at a distance, 
 as brave men generally do in their eagerness to 
 come to sword in hand, but to reserve them till 
 they came to close fighting, and push them for- 
 ward into the eyes and' faces of the enemy. 
 “For those fair young dancers,” said he, “will 
 never stand the steel aimed at their eyes, but will 
 fly to save their handsome faces.” 
 
 * It is somewhat surprising, that the account 
 which Csesar himself has left us of this memor- 
 able battle should meet with contradiction. 
 Yet so it is ; Plutarch differs widely trom him, 
 and Appian from both. According to Csesar 
 (Bell. Civil, lib. iii.), Pompey was on the left 
 with the two legions, which Csesar had returned 
 him at the beginning of the war. Scipio, Pom- 
 pey’s father-in-law, was in the centre, with the 
 legions he had brought from Syria, and the rein- 
 forcements sent by several kings and states of 
 Asia. The Cilician legion, and some cohorts 
 which had served in Spain, were in the right, 
 under the command of Afranius. As Pompey’s 
 right wing was covered by the Enipeus, he 
 strengthened the left with the 7000 horse, as well 
 as with the slingers and archers. The whole 
 army, consisting of 45,000 men, was drawn up 
 in three lines, with very little spaces between 
 them. In conformity to this disposition, Caesar’s 
 army was drawn up in the following order : the 
 tenth legion, which had on all occasions sig- 
 nalized itself above the rest, was placed in the 
 right wing, and the ninth in the left ^ but as the 
 latter had been considerably weakened in the 
 action at Dyrrhachium, the eighth legion was 
 posted so near it, as to be able to support and 
 reinforce it upon occasion. The rest of Caesar s 
 forces filled up the spaces between the two wings. 
 Mark Antony commanded the left wing, SyUa 
 the right, and Cneius Domitius Calvus the main 
 body. As for Caesar, he posted himself on the 
 right over against Pompey, that he might have 
 him always in sight. 
 
 While Caesar was thus emplojmdj Pompey took 
 a view on horseback of the order of both armies ; 
 and finding that the enemy kept their ranks with 
 the utmost exactness, and quietly waited for the 
 signal of battle, while his own men, for want of 
 experience, were fluctuating and unsteady, he 
 was afraid they would be broken upon the first 
 onset. He therefoYe commanded the vanguard 
 to stand firm in their ranks,* and in that close 
 order to receive the enemy’s charge. Csesar 
 condemned this measure, as not only tending to 
 lessen the vigour of the blows, which is always 
 greatest in the assailants, but also to damp the 
 fire and spirit of the men ; whereas those who 
 advance with impetuosity, and animate each other 
 with shouts, are filled with an enthusiastic valour 
 and superior ardour. 
 
 Caesar’s army consisted of 22,000 men, and 
 Pompey’s was something more than twice that 
 number. When the signal was given on both 
 sides, and the trumpets sounded a charge, each 
 common man attended only to his own concern. 
 But some of the principal Romans and Greeks, 
 who only stood and looked on, when the dreadful 
 moment of action approached, could not help 
 considering to what the avarice and ambition of 
 two men had brought the Roman empire. The 
 same arms on both sides, the troops marshalled 
 in the same manner, the same standards ; in 
 short, the strength and flower of one and the 
 same city turned upon itself ! What could_ be a 
 stronger proof of the blindness and infatuation of 
 human nature, when carried away by its passions ? 
 Had they been willing to enjoy the fruits of their 
 labours in peace and tranquility, the greatest and 
 best part of the world was their own. _ Or,_ if 
 they must have indulged their thirst of victories 
 and triumphs, the Parrhians and Germans were 
 yet to be subdued ; Scythia and India yet re- 
 mained ; together with a very plausible colour for 
 their lust of new acquisitions, the pretence of 
 civilizing barbarians. And what Scythian horse, 
 what Parthian arrows, what Indian treasures, 
 could have resisted 70,000 Romans, led on by 
 Pompey and Csesar, with whose names those 
 nations had long been acquainted ! ^ Into such a 
 variety of wild and savage countries had these 
 two generals carried their victorious arms. 
 Whereas now they stood threatening each other 
 with destruction; not sparing even their own 
 glory, though to it they sacrificed their country, 
 but prepared, one of them, to lose the reputation 
 of being invincible, which hitherto they had both 
 maintained. So that the alliance which they had 
 contracted by Pompey s marriage to Julia, was 
 from the first only an artful expedient ; and her 
 charms were to form a self interested compact, 
 instead of being the pledge of a sincere friend- 
 
 The plain of Pharsalia was now covered with 
 men, a -d horses and arms ; and the signal of 
 battle being given on both sides, the first on 
 Cmsar’s side who advanced to the charge was 
 Caius Cra'stinus,! who commanded a corps of 
 120 men, and was determined to make good his 
 
 * Vide C^s. ubi supra. 
 
 This, however, must be said in excuse for 
 Pompey, that generals of great fame and ex- 
 perience have sometimes done as he did. 
 
 t So Csesar calls him. His name in Plutarch 
 is Crassiamis^ in Appian Crassinus, 
 
POMPEY. 
 
 promise to his general. He was the first man 
 Caesar saw when he went out of the trenches in 
 the morning ; and upon Caesar s asking him what 
 he thought of the battle, he stretched out his 
 hand, and answered in a cheerful tone, “You 
 will gain a glorious victory, and I shall have your 
 praise this day, either alive or dead." In pur- 
 suance of this promise, he advanced the foremost, 
 and many following to support him, he charged 
 into the midst of the enemy. They soon took to 
 their swords, and numbers were slain ; but as 
 Crastinus was making his way forward, and 
 cutting down all before him, one of Pompey’s men 
 stood to receive him, and pushed his sword in at 
 his mouth with such force, that it went through 
 the nape of his neck. Crastinus thus killed, the 
 fight was maintained with equal advantage on 
 both sides. 
 
 Pompey did not immediately lead on his right 
 wing, but often directed his eyes to the left, and 
 lost time in waiting to see what execution his 
 cavalry would do there. Meanwhile they had 
 extended their squadrons to surround Caesar, and 
 prepared to drive the few horse he had placed in 
 front, back upon the foot. At that instant Caesar 
 gave the signal : upon which his cavalry retreated 
 a little ; and the six cohorts, which consisted of 
 3000 men, and had been placed behind the tenth 
 legion, advanced to surround Pompey’s cavalry ; 
 and coming close up to them, raised the points of 
 their javelins, as they had been taught, and aimed 
 them at the face. Their adversaries, who were 
 not experienced in any kind of fighting, and had 
 not the least previous idea of this, could not parry 
 or endure the blows upon their faces, but turned 
 their backs, or covered their eyes with their 
 hands, ^ and soon fled with great dishonour. 
 Csesar s men took no care to pursue them, but 
 turned their force upon the enemy’s infantry, 
 particularly upon that wing, which, now stripped 
 of its horse, lay open to the attack on all sides. 
 Ihe SIX cohorts, therefore, took them in flank, 
 while the tenth legion charged them in front ; and 
 they, who had hoped to surround the enemy, and 
 now, instead of that, saw themselves surrounded, 
 made but a short resistance, and then took to a 
 precipitate flight. 
 
 By the great dust that was raised, Pompey 
 conjectured the fate of his cavalry ; and it is hard 
 ^ say wnat passed in his mind at that moment. 
 He appeared like a man moonstruck and dis- 
 tracted ; and without considering that he was 
 Pompey the Great, or speaking to any one, he 
 quitted the ranks, and retired step by step to- 
 wards his camp — a scene which cannot be better 
 painted than in these verses of Homer : — * 
 
 But partial Jove, espousing Hector’s part, 
 bhot heaven-bred horror through the Grecian’s 
 heart ; 
 
 Confused, unnerv’d in Hector’s presence grown 
 Amazed he stood with terrors not his own. 
 
 O’er his broad back his moony shield he threw 
 And, glaring round, by tardy steps withdrew. ’ 
 
 Pope. 
 
 In this condition he entered his tent, where he 
 flown, and uttered not a word, till at last 
 upon finaing that some of the enemy entered the 
 '^ith the fugitives, he said, “ What ! into 
 
 453 
 
 . * of Iliad, where he 
 
 IS speaking of the flight of Ajax before Hector. 
 
 my camp too ! ’’ After this short exclamation, he 
 rose up, and dressing himself in a manner suitable 
 to his fortune, privately withdrew.* All the other 
 legions fled ; and a great slaughter was made in 
 the camp, of the servants and others who had the 
 care of the tents. But Asinius Pollio, who then 
 fought on Caesar’s side, assures us, that of the 
 regular troops there were not above 6000 men 
 killed, t 
 
 Upon the taking of the camp, there was a 
 spectacle which showed, in strong colours, the 
 vanity and folly of Pompey’s troops. All the 
 tents were crowned with myrtle ; the beds were 
 strewed with flowers; the tables covered with 
 cups, and bowls of wine set out. In short, every- 
 thing had the appearance of preparations for feasts 
 and sacrifices, rather than for men going out to 
 battle. To such a degree had their vain hopes 
 corrupted them, and with such a senseless con- 
 fidence they took the field ! 
 
 When Pompey had got at a little distance from 
 the camp, he quitted his horse. He had very few 
 people about him ; and, as he saw he was not 
 pursued, he went softly on, wrapped up in such 
 thoughts as we may suppose a man to have, who 
 had been used for thirty-four years to conquer 
 and carry all before him, and now in his old age 
 first came to know what it was to be defeated and 
 to fly We may easily conjecture what his 
 thoughts must be, when in one short hour he had 
 lost the glory and the power which had been 
 growing up amidst so many wars and conflicts ; 
 and he who was lately guarded with such armies 
 of horse and foot, and such great and powerful 
 fleets, was reduced to so mean and contemptible 
 his enemies, who were in search 
 of him, could not know him. 
 
 He passed by Larissa, and came to Tempe 
 where, burning with thirst, he threw himself upon 
 his face, and drank out of the river 5 after which^ 
 he passed through the valley, and went down to 
 the sea-coast. 'Ihere he spent the remainder of 
 the night in a poor fisherman’s cabin. Next 
 morning, about break of day, he went on board 
 a small river-boat, taking with him such of his 
 
 Caesar tells us that the cohorts appointed to 
 defend the camp made a vigorous resistance ; but 
 being at length overpowered, fled to a neighbour- 
 ing mountain, where he resolved to invest them. 
 But before he had finished his lines, want of water 
 obliged them to abandon that post, and retire 
 ^u'^urds Larissa. Caesar pursued the fugitives at 
 the head of four legions (not of the fourth legion 
 as the authorsof the Universal History erroneously 
 say), and after six miles’ march came up with 
 them. But they, not daring to engage troops 
 Hushed with victory, fled for refuge to a high 
 hill, the foot of which was watered by a little 
 river. Though Caesar’s men were quite spent 
 and ready to faint with the excessive heat and 
 the fatigue of the whole day, yet, by his obliging 
 manner, he prevailed upon them to cut off the 
 conveniency of the water from the enemy by a 
 trench. Hereupon, the unfortunate fugitives 
 came^ to a capitulation, threw down their arms 
 and implored the clemency of the conqueror! 
 I his they all did, except some senators, who, as 
 escaped in the dark. Vide 
 C^s. Bell. lib. 111. 80. 
 
 t Caesar says, that in all there were 115,000 
 killed, and 24,000 taken prisoners. 
 
454 PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 company as were freemen. The slaves he dis- 
 missed, bidding them go to Caesar, and fear 
 nothing. 
 
 As he was coasting along, he saw a ship of 
 burden just ready to sail ; the master of which 
 was Peticius, a Roman citizen, who, though not 
 acquainted with Pompey, knew h,m by sight. 
 It happened, that this man, the night before, 
 dreamed he saw Pompey come and talk to him, 
 not in the figure he had formerly known him, 
 but in mean and melancholy circumstances. He 
 was giving the passengers an account of his 
 dream, as persons, who have a great deal of time 
 upon their hands, love to discourse about such 
 matters ; when, on a sudden, one of the mariners 
 told him, he saw a little boat rowing up to him 
 from the land, and the crew making signs, by 
 shaking their garments and stretching out their 
 hands. Upon this, Peticius stood up, and could 
 distinguish Pompey among them, in the same 
 form as he had seen him in his dream. Then 
 beating his head for sorrow, he ordered the sea- 
 men to let down the ship’s boat, and held out his 
 hand to Pompey to invite him aboard ; for by his 
 dress he perceived his change of fortune. There- 
 fore, without waiting for any farther application, 
 he took him up, and such of his companions as 
 he thought proper, and then hoisted sail. The 
 persons Pompey took with him, were the two 
 Lentuli and Favonius ; and a little after, they 
 saw king Deiotarus beckoning to them with great 
 earnestness from the shore, and took him up like- 
 wise. The master of the ship provided them the 
 best supper he could, and when it was almost 
 ready, Pompey, for want of a servant, was going 
 to wash himself, but Favonius seeing it, stepped 
 up, and both washed and anointed him. All the 
 time he was on board, he continued to wait upon 
 him in all the offices of a servant, even to the 
 washing of his feet and providing his supper ; 
 insomuch, that one who saw the unaffected 
 simplicity and sincere attachment with which 
 F avonius performed these offices, cried out — 
 
 The generous mind adds dignity ^ 
 
 To every act, and nothing misbecomes it. 
 
 Pompey, in the course of his voyage, sailed by 
 Amphipolis, and from thence steered for Mitylene, 
 to take up Cornelia and his son. As soon as he 
 reached the island, he sent a messenger to' the 
 town with news far different from what Cornelia 
 expected. For, by the flattering accounts which 
 many officious persons had given her, she under- 
 stood, that the dispute was decided at Dyr- 
 rhachium, and that nothing but the pursuit of 
 Csesar remained to be attended to. The messenger, 
 finding her possessed with such hopes, had not 
 power to make the usual salutations ; but ex- 
 pressing the greatness of Pompey’s misfortunes 
 by his tears rather than words, only told her, she 
 must make haste, if she had a mind to see Pompey 
 with one ship only, and that not his own. 
 
 At this news Cornelia threw herself upon the 
 ground, where she lay a long time insensible and 
 speechless. At last, coming to herself, she per- 
 ceived there was no time to be lost in tears and 
 lamentations, and therefore hastened through the 
 town to the sea. Pompey ran to meet her, and 
 received her to his arms as she was just going to 
 fall. While she hung upon his neck, she thus 
 addressed him: “I see, my dear husband, your 
 present unhappy condition is the effect of my ill 
 
 fortune, and not yours. Alas ! how are you 
 reduced to one poor vessel, who, before your 
 marriage with Cornelia, traversed this sea with 
 500 galleys ! Why did you come to see me, and 
 not rather leave me to my evil destiny, who have 
 loaded you too with such a weight of calamities ? 
 How happy had it been lor me to have died before 
 I heard that Publius, my first husband was killed 
 by the Parthians ! How wise, had I followed 
 him to the grave, as I once intended ! What have 
 I lived for since, but to bring misfortunes upon 
 Pompey the Great ? ” * 
 
 Such, we are assured, was the speech of 
 Cornelia ; and Pompey answered, “ Till this 
 moment, Cornelia, you have experienced nothing 
 but the smiles of fortune ; and it was she who 
 deceived you, because she stayed with me longer 
 than she commonly does with her favourites. 
 But, fated as we are, we must bear this reverse, 
 and make another trial of her. For it is no more 
 improbable, that we may emerge from this poor 
 condition, and rise to great things again, than it 
 was that we should fall from great things into 
 this poor condition.” 
 
 Cornelia then sent to the city for her most 
 valuable movables and her servants. The people 
 of Mitylene came to pay their respects to Pom- 
 pey, and to invite him to their city. But he 
 refused to go, and bade them surrender them- 
 selves to the conqueror without fear ; for 
 Csesar, he told them, had great clemency. 
 After this, he turned to Cratippus the philosopher, 
 who was come from the town to see him, and 
 began to complain a little of Providence, and 
 express some doubts concerning it. Cratippus 
 made some concessions, and, turning the dis- 
 course, encouraged him to hope better things ; 
 that he might not give him pain, by an unseason- 
 able opposition to his arguments ; else he might 
 have answered his objections against Providence, 
 by showing, that the state, and indeed the con- 
 stitution, was in such disorder, that it was 
 necessary it should be changed into a monarchy. 
 Or this one question would have silenced him, 
 “ How do we know, Pompey, that, if you had 
 conquered, you would have made a better use of 
 your good fortune than Csesar?” But we must 
 leave the determinations of heaven to its superior 
 wisdom. 
 
 As soon as his wife and his friends were em- 
 barked, he set sail, and continued his course 
 without touching at any port, except for water 
 and provisions, till he came to Attalia, a city of 
 Pamphylia. There he was joined by some 
 Cilician galleys ; and beside picking up a number 
 of soldiers, he found in a little time sixty senators 
 about him. When he was informed that his fleet 
 was still entire, and that Cato was gone to Africa 
 
 * Cornelia is represented by Lucan, too, as 
 imputing the misfortunes of Pompey to her 
 alliance with him ; and it seems, from one part 
 of her speech on this occasion, that she should 
 have been given to Caesar. 
 
 0 utinam Thalamos invisi Caesaris issem ! 
 
 If there were anything in this, it might have been 
 a material cause of the quarrel between Caesar 
 and Pompey, as the latter, by means of this 
 alliance, must have strengthened himself with the 
 Crassian interest : for Cornelia was the relict of 
 Publius Crassus, the son of Marcus Crassus. 
 
POMPEY, 
 
 with a considerable body of men which he had 
 collected after their flight, he lamented to his 
 friends his great error, in suffering himself to be 
 forced into an engagement at land, and making 
 no use of those forces, in which he was con- 
 fessedly stronger ; nor even taking care to fight 
 near his fleet, that, in case of his meeting with a 
 check at land, he might have been supplied from 
 sea with another army, capable of making head 
 against the enemy. Indeed, we find no greater 
 mistake in Porapey’s whole conduct, nor a more 
 remarkable instance of Caesar’s generalship, than 
 in removing the scene of action to such a distance 
 from the naval forces. 
 
 However, as it was necessary to undertake 
 something with the small means he had left, he 
 sent to some cities, and sailed to others himself, 
 t^o raise money, and to get a supply of men for 
 his ships. But knowing the extraordinary celerity 
 of the enemy’s motions, he was afraid he might 
 be beforehand with him, and seize all that he was 
 preparing. He, therefore, began to think of 
 retiring to some asylum, and proposed the matter 
 in counml. Ihey could not think of any province 
 m the Roman empire that would afford a safe 
 retreat ; and when they cast their eyes on the 
 foreign kingdoms, Pompey mentioned Parthia as 
 the most likely to receiye and protect them in 
 their present weak condition, and afterwards to 
 send them back with a force sufficient to retrieve 
 their affairs. Others were of opinion, it was 
 proper to apply to Africa, and to Juba in par- 
 ticular. But Pheophanes of Lesbos observed it 
 was madnps to leave Egypt, which was distant 
 but three days sail. Besides, Ptolemy,* who was 
 growing towards manhood, had particular obliga- 
 on his father’s account; and 
 should he go, then, and put himself in the hands 
 u Parthians, the most perfidious people in 
 the world ? He represented what a wrong mea- 
 sure It would be, if, rather than trust to the 
 clemency of a noble Roman, who was his father- 
 in-law, and be contented with the second place of 
 eminence, he would venture his person with 
 Arsacesjt by whom even Crassus would not be 
 taken alive. He added, that it would be ex- 
 tremely al^urd to carry a young woman of the 
 lamily of bcipio among barbarians, who thought 
 power consisted in the display of insolence and 
 outrage ; and where, if she escaped unviolated. 
 
 It would be believed she did not, after she had 
 been with those who were capable of treating her 
 with indignity. It is said, this last consideration 
 only prevented his marching to the Euphrates; 
 but It is^ some doubt with us, whether it was not 
 rather his fate than his opinion, which directed 
 his steps another way. 
 
 When it was determined that they should seek 
 for ref^uge in Egypt, he set sail from Cyprus with 
 Cornelia, in a Seleucian galley. The rest accom- 
 panied him, some in ships of war, and some in 
 merchantmen: and they made a safe voya^-e 
 
 455 
 
 This was Ptolemy Dionj^sius, the son of 
 Ptolemy Auletes, who died in the year of Rome 
 which was the year before the battle of 
 Pli^arsaha. He was nowjn his fourteenth year. 
 
 T this passage it appears, that Arsaces 
 
 was the common name of the kings of Parthia. 
 t or It was not the proper name of the king then 
 upon the throne, nor of him who was at war with 
 
 Being informed that Ptolemy was with his army 
 at Pelusium where he was engaged in war with 
 his sister, he proceeded thither, and sent a 
 messenger before him to notify his arrival, and to 
 entreat the king s protection. 
 
 Ptolemy vvas very young, and Photinus, his 
 pnme minister, called a council of his ablest 
 omcers ; though their advice had no more weight 
 than he was pleased to allow it. He ordered 
 each, however, to give his opinion. But who can 
 without indignation, consider, that the fate of 
 Pompey the Great was to be determined by 
 Photinus, a eunuch ; by Theodotus, a man of 
 Cnios, who was hired to teach the prince rhetoric • 
 and by Achillas, an Egyptian? For among the 
 kings chamberlains and tutors, these had the 
 greatest influence over him, and were the persons 
 he most consulted. Pompey lay at anchor at 
 some distance from the place, waiting the deter- 
 mination of this respectable board ; while he 
 thought It beneath him to be indebted to Cmsar 
 for his safety. The council were divided in their 
 opinions ; some advising the prince to give him 
 an honourable reception ; and others to send him 
 an order to depart. But Theodotus, to display 
 his eloquence, insisted that both were wrong 
 If you receive him,” said he, “you will have 
 Csesar for your enemy, and Pompey for your 
 master. If you order him off, Pompey may one 
 day revenge the affront, and Caesar resent your 
 not having put him in his hands : the best method 
 therefore, is to send for him, and put him to 
 death. By this means you will do Csesar a favour 
 and have nothing to fear from Pompey/^ He 
 added, with a smile, “Dead men do not 
 bite. 
 
 . This advice being approved of, the execution of 
 It was committed to Achillas. In consequence of 
 which, he took with him Septimius, who had 
 formerly been one of Pompey’s officers, and 
 oalvius, who had also acted under him as a cen- 
 turion, with three or four assistants, and made up 
 ship, where his principal friends and 
 officers had assembled, to see how the affair went 
 on. When they perceived there was nothino- 
 magnificent in their reception, nor suitable to the 
 hopes which Theophanes had conceived, but that 
 a few men only, in a fishing-boat, came to wait 
 upon them, such want of respect appeared a sus- 
 picious circumstance ; and they advised Pompey 
 while he was out of the reach of missive weapons 
 to get out to the main sea. ^ 
 
 Meantime, the boat approaching, Septimius 
 spoke first, addressing Pompey, in Latin, by the 
 title of Imperator. Then Achillas saluted him 
 m Greek, and desired him to come into the boat, 
 because the water was very shallow towards the 
 shore, and a galley must strike upon the sands. 
 
 At the same time they saw several of the king’s 
 ships getting ready, and the shore covered with 
 troops, so that if they would have changed their 
 minds, it was then too late ; besides, their dis- 
 trust would have furnished the assassins with a 
 pretence for their injustice. He, therefore, em- 
 braced Cornelia, who lamented his sad exit be- 
 fore it happened ; and ordered two centurions, 
 one of his enfranchised slaves, named Philip, and 
 a servant called Scenes, to get into the boat be- 
 fore him. When Achillas had hold of his 
 hand, and he was going to step in himself, he 
 turned to his wife and son, and repeated that 
 verse of Sophocles — 
 
456 FLUTARCII^S LIVES. 
 
 Seek’st thou a tyrant’s door ? then farewell free- 
 dom ! 
 
 Though FREE as air before. 
 
 These were the last words he spoke to them. 
 
 As there was a considera;.Ie distance between 
 the gailey and the shore, and he observed that 
 not a man in the boat showed him the least 
 civility, or even spoke to him, he looked at Septi- 
 mius, and said, “ Methinks, I remember you to 
 have been my fellow-soldier ; ” but he answerjsd 
 only with a nod, without testifying any regard 
 or friendship. A profound silence again taking 
 place, Pompey took out a paper, in which he had 
 written a speech in Greek, that he designed to 
 make to Ptolemy, and amused himself with read- 
 ing it. 
 
 When they approached the shore, Cornelia, 
 with her friends in the galley, watched the event 
 with great anxiety. She was a little encouraged, 
 when she saw a number of the king’s great officers 
 coming down to the strand, in all appearance to 
 receive her husband and do him honour. But 
 the moment Pompey was taking hold of Philip’s 
 hand, to raise him with more ease, Septimius 
 came behind, and run him through the body ; 
 after which Salvius and Achillas also drew their 
 swords. Pompey took his robe in both hands 
 and covered his face ; and without saying or 
 doing the least thing unworthy of him, submitted 
 to his fate : only uttering a groan, while they 
 despatched him with many blows. He was then 
 just fifty-nine years old, for he was killed the day 
 after his birthday.* 
 
 Cornelia, and her friends in the galley, upon 
 seeing him murdered, gave a shriek that was 
 heard to the shore, and weighed anchor immedi- 
 ately. Their flight was assisted by a brisk gale, 
 as they got out more to sea ; so that the Egyp- 
 tians gave up their design of pursuing them. 
 The murderers having cut off Pompey’s head, 
 threw the body out of the boat naked, and left it 
 exposed to all who were desirous of such a sight. 
 Philip stayed till their curiosity was satisfied, 
 and then washed the body with sea-water, and 
 wrapped it in one of his own garments, because 
 he had nothing else at hand. The next thing 
 was to look out for wood for the funeral pile ; and 
 casting his eyes over the shore, he spied the old 
 remains of a fishing-boat ; which, though not 
 large, would make a sufficient pile for a poor 
 naked body that was not quite entire. 
 
 While he was collecting the pieces of plank 
 and putting them together, an old Roman, who 
 had made some of his first campaigns under 
 Pompey, came up and said to Philip, “Who are 
 you that are preparing the funeral of Pompey 
 
 ♦ Some divines, in saying that Pompey never 
 prospered after he presumed to enter the sanc- 
 tuary in the temple at Jerusalem, intimate that 
 his misfortunes were owing to that profanation ; 
 but we forbear, with Plutarch, to comment on 
 the providential determinations of the Supreme 
 Being. Indeed he fell a sacrifice to as vile a set 
 of people as he had before insulted ; for, the 
 Jews excepted, there was not upon earth a more 
 despicable race of men than the cowardly cruel 
 Egyptians, 
 
 the Great ? ” Philip answered, I am his freed- 
 man.” “ But you shall not,” said the old Ro- 
 man, “have this honour entirely to yourself. As 
 a work of piety offers itself, let me have a share 
 in it ; that I may not absolutely repent my 
 having passed so many years in a foreign coun- 
 try ; but, to compensate many misfortunes, may 
 have the consolation of doing some of the last 
 honours * to the greatest general Rome ever pro- 
 duced.” In this manner was the funeral of Pom- 
 pey conducted. 
 
 Next day Lucius Lentulus, who knew nothing 
 of what had passed, because he was upon his 
 voyage from Cyprus, arrived upon the Egyptian 
 shore, and as he was coasting along, saw the 
 funeral pile, and Philip, whom he did not yet 
 know, standing by it. Upon which he said to 
 himself, “Who has finished his days, and is 
 going to leave his remains upon this shore ? ” 
 adding, after a short pause, with a sigh, “ Ah ! 
 Pompey the Great ! perhaps thou mayest be the 
 man.” Lentulus soon after went on shore, and 
 was taken and slain. 
 
 Such was the end of Pompey the Great. As 
 for Caesar, he arrived not long after in Egypt, 
 which he found in great disorder. When they 
 came to present the head, he turned from it, and 
 the person that brought it, as a sight of horror. 
 He received the seal, but it was witn tears. The 
 device was a lion holding a sword. The two 
 assassins, Achillas and Photinus, he put to death ; 
 and the king, being defeated in battle, perished 
 in the river. Theodotus, the rhetorician, escaped 
 the vengeance of Caesar, by leaving Egypt ; but 
 he wandered about a miserable fugitive, and 
 was hated wherever he went. At last, Marcus 
 Brutus, who killed Caesar, found the wretch, in 
 his province of Asia, and put him to death, after 
 having made him suffer the most exquisite tor- 
 tures. The ashes of Pompey were carried to 
 Cornelia, who buried them in his lands near 
 Aiba.t 
 
 * Of touching and wrapping up the body, 
 t Pompey has, in all appearance, and in all 
 considerations of his character, had less justice 
 done him by historians than any other man of his 
 time. His popular humanity, his military and 
 political skill, his prudence (which he sometimes 
 unfortunately gave up), his natural bravery and 
 generosity, his conjugal virtues, which (though 
 sometimes impeached) were both naturally and 
 morally great ; his cause, which was certainly, in 
 its original interests, the cause of Rome ; all 
 these circumstances entitled him to a more dis- 
 tinguished and more respectable character than 
 any of his historians have thought proper to 
 afford him. One circumstance, indeed, renders 
 the accounts that the writers, who rose after the 
 established monarchy, have given of his oppo- 
 sition, perfectly reconcilable to the prejudice 
 which appears against him ; or rather to the re- 
 luctance which they have shown to that praise 
 which they seemed to have felt that he deserved : 
 when the commonwealth was no more, and the 
 supporters of his interest had fallen with it, then 
 history itself, not to mention poetry, departed 
 from its proper privilege of impartiality, and even 
 Plutarch made a sacrifice to imperial power. 
 
AGESILAUS AND POMPEY COMPARED. 
 
 Such is the account we had to give of the lives 
 of these two great men ; and, in drawing up the 
 parallel, we shall previously take a short survey 
 of the difference in their character. 
 
 In the first place, Pompey rose to power, and 
 established his reputation, by just and laudable 
 means ; partly by the strength of his own genius, 
 and partly by his services to Sylla, in freeing 
 Italy from various attempts at despotism. Where- 
 as Agesilaus came to the throne by methods 
 equally immoral and irreligious : for it was by 
 accusing Leotychidas of bastardy, whom his 
 brother had acknowledged as his legitimate son, 
 and by eluding the oracle relative to a lame 
 king.* 
 
 In the next place, Pompey paid all due respect 
 to Sylla during his life, and took care to see his 
 remains honourably interred, notwithstanding the 
 opposition it met with from Lepidus ; and after- 
 wards he gave his daughter to Faustus, the son 
 of Sylla. On the other hand, Agesilaus shook 
 off Lysander upon a slight pretence, and treated 
 him with great indignity. Yet the services 
 Pompey received from Sylla were not greater 
 than those he had rendered him ; whereas Age- 
 silaus was appointed king of Sparta by Lysander’s 
 means, and afterwards captain general of Greece. 
 
 In the third place, Pornpey’s offences against 
 the laws and the constitution were principally 
 owing to his alliances, to his supporting either 
 Caesar or Scipio (whose daughter he had married) 
 in their unjust demands, Agesilaus not only 
 gratified the passion of his son, by sparing the 
 life of Sphodrias, whose death ought to have 
 atoned for the injuries he had done the Athe- 
 nians : but he likewise screened Phoebidas, who 
 was guilty of an egregious infraction of the 
 league with the Thebans, and it was visibly for 
 the sake of bis crime that he took him into his 
 protection. In short, whatever troubles Pompey 
 brought upon the Romans, either through ignor- 
 ance or a timorous complaisance for his friends, 
 Agesilaus brought as great distresses upon the 
 Spartans, through a spirit of obstinacy and re- 
 sentment ; for such was the spirit that kindled 
 the Boeotian war. 
 
 If, when we are mentioning their faults, we 
 may take notice of their fortune, the Romans 
 could have no previous idea of that of Pompey ; 
 but the Lacedaemonians were sufficiently fore- 
 warned of the danger of a lame reign, and yet 
 Agesilaus would not suffer them to avail them- 
 selves of that warning.! Nay, supposing Leo- 
 tychidas a mere stranger, and as much a bastard 
 
 * See the life of Agesilaus. 
 
 t It is true, the latter part of Agesilaus’s reign 
 was unlortunate, but the misfortunes were owing 
 to his malice against the Thebans, and to his 
 fighting (contrary to the laws of Lycurgus) the 
 same enemy so frequently, that he taught them 
 to. beat him at last. . 
 
 Nevertheless, the oracle, as we have observed 
 in a former iiote, probably meant the lameness of 
 the kingdom, in having but one king instead of 
 two, and not the lameness of the king. 
 
 as he was; yet the family of Eurytion could 
 easily have supplied Sparta with a king who was 
 neither spurious nor maimed, had not Lysander 
 been industrious enough to render the oracle 
 obscure for the sake of Agesilaus. 
 
 As to their political talents, there never was a 
 finer measure than that of Agesilaus, when, in 
 the distress of the Spartans how to proceed 
 against the fugitives after the battle of Leuctra, 
 he decreed that the laws should be silent for that 
 day. We have nothing of Pompey’s that can 
 possibly be compared to it. On the contrary, 
 he thought himself exempted from observing the 
 laws he had made, and that his transgre.ssing 
 them showed his friends his superior power : 
 whereas Agesilaus, when under a necessity of 
 contravening the lav/s, to save a number of 
 citizens, found out an expedient which saved both 
 the laws and the criminals. I must also reckon 
 among his political virtues, his inimitable be- 
 haviour upon the receipt of the scytale, which 
 ordered him to leave Asia in the height of his 
 success. For he did not, like Pompey, serve the 
 commonwealth only in affairs which contributed 
 to his own greatness ; the good of his country 
 was his great object, and, with a view to that, he 
 renounced such power and so much glory as no 
 man had either before or after him, except Alex- 
 ander the Great. 
 
 If we view them in another light, and consider 
 their military performances ; the trophies which 
 Pompey erected were so numerous, the armies he 
 led so powerful, and the pitched battles he won 
 so extraordinary, that I suppose Xenophon him- 
 self would not compare the victories of Agesilaus 
 with them ; though that historian, on account of 
 his other excellencies, has been indulged the 
 peculiar privilege of saying what he pleased of 
 his hero. 
 
 There was a difference too, I think, in their 
 behaviour to their enemies, in point of equity and 
 moderation. Agesilaus was bent upon enslaving 
 Thebes, and destroyed Messene ; the former the 
 city irom which his family sprung, the latter 
 Sparta’s sister colony ; * and in the attempt he 
 was near ruining Sparta itself. On the other 
 hand, Pompey, after he had conquered the 
 pirates, bestowed cities on such as were willing to 
 change their way of life ; and when he might 
 have led Tigranes, king of Armenia, captive at 
 the wheels of his chariot, he rather chose to 
 make him an ally ; on which occasion he made 
 use of that memorable expression, “ I prefer the 
 glory that will last for ever, to that of a day.” 
 
 But if the pre-eminence in military virtue is to 
 be decided by such actions and counsels as are 
 most characteristical of the great and wise com- 
 mander, we shall find that the Lacedaemonian 
 leaves the Roman far behind. In the first place, 
 he never abandoned his city, though it was be- 
 sieged by 70,000 men, while he had but a hand- 
 
 * For Hercules was born at Thebes, and Mes- 
 sene was a colony of the Heraclidae, as well as 
 Sparta. The Latin and French translations have 
 mistaken the sense of this passage. 
 
4S8 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 ful of men to oppose them with, and those lately- 
 defeated in the battle of Leuctra. But Pompey,t 
 upon Caesar’s advancing with 5300 men only, and 
 taking one little town in Italy, left Rome in a 
 panic ; either meanly yielding to so trifling a 
 force, or failing in his intelligence of their real 
 numbers. In his flight he carried off his own 
 wife and children, but he left tliose of the other 
 citizens in a defenceless state ; when he ought 
 eitlier to have stayed and conquered for his 
 country, or to have accepted such conditions as 
 the conqueror might impose, who was both his 
 fellow-citizen and his relation. A little while 
 before, he thought it insupportable to prolong 
 the term of his commission, and to grant him 
 another consulship ; and now he suflfered him to 
 take possession of the city, and to tell Metellus, 
 that he considered him, and all the other inhabi- 
 tants, as his prisoners. 
 
 If it is the principal business of a general to 
 know how to bring the enemy to a battle when 
 he is stronger, and how to avoid being compelled 
 to one when he is weaker, Agesilaus understood 
 that rule perfectly well, and, by observing it, 
 continued always invincible. But Pompey could 
 never take Caesar at a disadvantage ; on the con- 
 trary, he suffered Caesar to take the advantage of 
 him, by being brought to hazard all in an action 
 at land. The consequence of which was, that 
 Caesar became master of his treasures, his pro- 
 visions, and the sea itself, when he might have 
 preserved them all, had he known^how to avoid a 
 battle. 
 
 As for the apology that is made for Pompey in 
 this case, it reflects the greatest dishonour upon a 
 general of his experience. If a young officer had 
 been so much dispirited and disturbed by the 
 tumults and clamours among his troops, as to 
 depart from his better judgment, it would have 
 been pardonable. But for Pompey the Great, 
 whose camp the Romans called their country, 
 and whose tent their senate, while they gave the 
 name of rebels and traitors to those who stayed 
 and acted as praetors and consuls in Rome ; for 
 Pompey, who had never been known to serve as 
 a private soldier, but had made all his campaigns 
 with the greatest reputation as general ; for such 
 a one to be forced, by the scoffs of Favonius and 
 Domitius, and the fear of being called Agamem- 
 
 * Here is another egregious instance of Plu- 
 tarch’s prejudice against the character of Pompey. 
 It is certain that he left not Rome till he was 
 well convinced of the impossibility of maintaining 
 it against the arms of Caesar. For he was not 
 only coming against it with a force much more 
 powerful than is here mentioned ; but he had 
 rendered even a siege unnecessary, by a previous 
 distribution of his gold amongst the citizens. 
 
 non, to risk the fate of the whole empire, and of 
 liberty, upon the cast of a single die— who can 
 bear it ? If he dreaded only present infamy, he 
 ought to have rnade a stand at first, and to have 
 fought for the city of Rome ; and not, after call- 
 ing his flight a manoeuvre of Themistocles, to 
 look upon the delaying a battle in Thessaly as a 
 dishonour. For the gods had not appointed the 
 fields of Pharsalia as the lists in which he was to 
 contend for the empire of Rome, nor was he 
 summoned by a herald to make his appearance 
 there, or otherwise forfeit the palm to another. 
 There were innumerable plains and cities ; nay, 
 his command of the sea left the whole earth to 
 his choice, had^ he been determined to imitate 
 Maximus, Marius, or Lucullus, or Agesilaus 
 himself. 
 
 Agesilaus certainly had no less tumults to en- 
 counter in Sparta, when the Thebans challenged 
 him to come out and fight for his dominions ; nor 
 were the calumnies and slanders he met with in 
 Egypt from the madness of the king less grating, 
 when he advised that prince to lie still for a time. 
 Yet by pursuing the sage measures he had first 
 fixed upon, he not only saved the Egyptians 
 in spite of themselves, but kept Sparta from sink- 
 ing in the earthquake that threatened her ; naj^ 
 he erected there the best trophy imaginable 
 against the Thebans ; for by keeping the Spar- 
 tans from their ruin, which they were so obsti- 
 nately bent upon, he put it in their power to 
 conquer afterward. Hence it was that Agesilaus 
 ■was praised by the persons whom he had saved 
 by violence ; and Pompey, who committed an 
 error in complaisance to others, was condemned 
 by those who drew him into it. Some say, 
 indeed, that he was deceived by his father-in-law 
 Scipio, who, wanting to convert to his own use 
 the treasures he had brought from Asia, had con- 
 cealed them for that purpose, and hastened the 
 action, under pretence that the, supplies would 
 soon foil. But, supposing that true, a general 
 should not have sufered himself to be so easily 
 deceived, nor, in consequence of being so de- 
 ceived, have hazarded the loss of all. _ Such are 
 the principal strokes that mark their military 
 characters. 
 
 As to their voyages to Egypt, the one fled 
 thither out of necessity ; the other, without any 
 necessity or sufficient cause, listed himself in the 
 service of a barbarous prince, to raise a fund for 
 carrying on the war with the Greeks. So that if 
 ■w'e accuse the Egyptians for their behaviour to 
 Pom.pey, the Egyptians blame Agesilaus as much 
 for his behaviour to them. The one w’as be- 
 trayed by those in whom he put his trust ; the 
 other was guilty of a breach of trust, in desert- 
 ing those whom he went to support, ^and going 
 ! over to their enemies. 
 
 ALEXANDER. 
 
 We shall now give the lives of Alexander the 
 Great, and of Csesar, who overthrew Pompey 
 and, as the quantity of materials is so great, 
 we shall only premise, that we hope for in- 
 dulgence though we do not give the actions in 
 full detail and with a scrupulous exactness, but 
 rather in a short summary ; since we are not 
 writing Histories, but Lives. Nor is it always 
 
 in the most distinguished achievements that 
 men’s virtues or vices may be best discerned ; 
 but very often an action of small note, a short 
 saying, or a jest, shall distinguish a person’s real 
 character more than the greatest sieges or the 
 most important battles. Therefore, as painters ip 
 their portraits labour the likeness in the face, and 
 particularly about the eyes, in which the peculiar 
 
ALEXANDER, 
 
 459 
 
 turn of mind most appears, and run over the rest 
 with a more careless hand ; so we must be per- 
 mitted to strike off the features of the soul, in 
 order to give a real likeness of these great men, 
 and leave to others the circumstantial detail of 
 their labours and achievements. 
 
 It is allowed as certain, that Alexander was 
 a descendant of Hercules by Caranus,* and of 
 iEacus by Neoptolemus. His father Philip is 
 said to have been initiated, when very young, 
 along with Olympias, in the mysteries at Samo- 
 thrace and having conceived an affection for her, 
 he obtained her in marriage of her brother Arym- 
 bas, to whom he applied, because she was left 
 an orphan. The night before the consummation 
 of the marriage, she dreamed, that a thunder- 
 bolt fell upon her belly, which kindled a great 
 fire, and that the flame extended itself far and 
 wide before it disappeared. And some time 
 after the marriage, Philip dreamed that he sealed 
 up the queen’s womb with a seal, the impression 
 of which he thought was a lion. Most of the 
 interpreters believed the dream announced some 
 reason to doubt the honour of Olympias, and that 
 Philip ought to look more closely to her conduct. 
 But Aristander of Telmesus said, it only denoted 
 that the queen was pregnant ; for a seal is never 
 put upon anything that is empty : and that the 
 child would prove a boy, of a bold and lion- 
 like courage. A serpent was also seen lying by 
 Olympias as she slept; which is said to have 
 cooled Philip’s affections for her more than any- 
 thing, insomuch that he seldom repaired to her 
 j bed afterwards; whether it was that he feared 
 some enchantment from her, or abstained from 
 her embraces because he thought them taken up 
 by some superior being. 
 
 Some, indeed, relate the affair in another man- 
 ner. They tell us, that the women of this country 
 were of old extremely fond of the ceremonies of 
 Orpheus, and the orgies of Bacchus; and that 
 they were called Clodones and Mijuallones, be- 
 cause in many things they imitated the Edonian 
 and Thracian women about Mount Haemus ; from 
 ^vhom the Greek word threscuein seems to be de- 
 rived, which signifies the exercise of extravagant 
 and superstitious observances. Olympias being 
 remarkably ambitious of these inspirations, and 
 desirous of giving the enthusiastic solemnities a 
 more strange and horrid appearance, introduced 
 a number of large tame serpents, which, often 
 creeping out of the ivy and the mystic fans, and 
 entwining about the thyrsuses and garlands of 
 the women, struck the spectators with terror. 
 
 Philip, however, upon this appearance, sent 
 Chiron of Megalopolis to consult the oracle at 
 Delphi ; and we are told, Apollo commanded 
 him to sacrifice to Jupiter Ammon, and to pay 
 his homage principally to that god. It is also 
 said, he lost one of his eyes, which was that he’ 
 applied to the chink of the door when he saw 
 
 * Caranus, the sixteenth in descent from Her- 
 cules, made himself master of Macedonia in the 
 year before Christ 794 ; and Alexander the Great 
 was the twenty-second in descent from Cara- 
 nus ; so that from Hercules to Alexander there 
 were thirty-eight generations. The descent by 
 his mother’s side is not so clear, there being many 
 degrees v/anting in it. It is sufficient to know, 
 that Olympias was the daughter of Neoptolemus, 
 and sister to Arymbas. 
 
 the god in his wife’s embraces in the form of a 
 serpent. According to Eratosthenes, Olympias, 
 when she conducted Alexander on his way in his 
 first expedition, privately discovered to him the 
 secret of his birth, and exhorted him to behave 
 with a dignity suitable to his divine extrac- 
 tion. Others affirm, that she absolutely re- 
 jected it as an impious fiction, and used to say, 
 “ Will Alexander never leave embroiling me with 
 Juno V* 
 
 Alexander * was born on the sixth of Hecatom- 
 boeon f [July], which the Macedonians call Lous, 
 the same day that the temple of Diana at Ephesus 
 was burned; upon which Hegesias the Magne- 
 sian has uttered a conceit frigid enough to have 
 extinguished the flames. ‘‘ It is no wonder,” said 
 he, “ that the temple of Diana was burned, when 
 she was at a distance, employed in bringing Alex- 
 ander into the world.” . All the Magi who were 
 then at Ephesus, looked upon the fire as a sign 
 which betokened a much greater misfortune : 
 they ran about the town, beating their faces, 
 and crying, that the day had brought forth the 
 great scourge and destroyer of Asia. 
 
 Philip had just taken the city of Potidsea,J and 
 three messengers arrived the same day with ex- 
 traordinary tidings. The first informed him that 
 Parrnenio had gained a great battle against the 
 Illyrians; the second, that his race-horse had 
 won the prize at the Olympic games; and the 
 third, that Olympias was brought to bed of Alex- 
 ander. His joy on that occasion was great, as 
 might naturally be expected ; and the soothsayers 
 increased it, by assuring him, that his son, who 
 was born in the midst of three victories, must 
 of course prove invincible. 
 
 The statues of Alexander that most resembled 
 him \yere those of Lysippus, who alone had his 
 permission to represent him in marble. The turn 
 of his head, which leaned a little to one side, and 
 the quickness of his eye, in which many of his 
 friends and successors most affected to imitate 
 him, were best hit off by that artist. Apelles 
 painted him in the character of Jupiter armed 
 with thunder, but did not succeed as to his 
 complexion. _ He overcharged the colouring, and 
 made his skin too brown ; whereas he was fair, 
 with a tinge of red in his face and upon his 
 breast. We read in the memoirs of Aristoxenus, 
 that a most agreeable scent proceeded from his 
 skin, and that his breath and whole body were 
 
 * In the first year of the hundred and sixth 
 olympiad, before Christ 354. 
 
 + jElian (Var. Hist. 1 . ii. c. 25) says expressly, 
 that Alexander was born and died on the sixth 
 day of the month Thargelion. But supposing 
 Plutarch right in placing his birth in the month 
 Hecatombgeon, yet not that month, but Boedro- 
 mion then answered to the Macedonian month 
 Lous ; as appears clearly from a letter of Philip’s, 
 still preserved in the Orations of Demosthenes, 
 (in Orat. de Corona). In aftertimes, indeed, the 
 month Lous answered to Hecatomboeon, which, 
 without doubt, was the cause of Plutarch’s mis- 
 take. 
 
 t This is another mistake. Potidaea was taken 
 two years before, viz. in the third year of the one 
 hundred and third olympiad ; for which we have 
 again the authority of Demosthenes, who was 
 Philip’s .contemporary (in Orat. cont. Leptinem), 
 as well as of Diodorus Siculus, 1 . xvi. 
 
460 
 
 PLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 so fragrant, that they perfumed his iinder gar- 
 ments. The cause of this might possibly be his 
 hot temperament. For, as Theophrastus con- 
 jectures, it is the concoction of moisture by heat 
 which produces sweet odours ; and hence it is 
 that those countries which are driest, and most 
 parched with heat, produce spices of the best 
 kind, and in the greatest quantity ; the sun ex- 
 haling from the surface of bodies that moisture 
 which is the instrument of corruption. It seems 
 to have been the same heat of constitution which 
 made Alexander so much inclined to drink, and 
 so subject to passion. 
 
 His continence showed itself at an early period ; 
 for, t lough he was vigorous, or rather violent in 
 his other pursuits, he was not easily moved by 
 the pleasures of the body ; and if he tasted them, 
 it was with great moderation. But there was 
 something superlatively great and sublime in his 
 ambition, far above his years. It was not all 
 sorts of honour that he courted, nor did he seek 
 it in every track, like his father Philip, who was 
 as proud of his eloquence as any sophist could 
 be, and who had the vanity to record his victories 
 in the Olympic chariot-race in the impression of 
 his coins. Alexander, on fhe other hand, when 
 he was asked by some of the people about him, 
 whether he would not run in the Olympic race (for 
 he was swift of foot), answered, “Yes, if I had 
 kings for my antagonists.” It appears that he 
 had a perfect aversion to the whole exercise of 
 wrestling.* F or, though he exhibited many other 
 sorts of games and public diversions, in which he 
 proposed prizes for tragic poets, for musicians 
 who practised upon the flute and lyre, and for 
 rhapsodists too ; though he entertained the people 
 with the hunting of all manner of wild beasts, and 
 with fencing or fighting with the staff, yet he 
 gave no encouragement to boxing or to the Pan- 
 cratium. t 
 
 Ambassadors from Persia happening to arrive 
 in the absence of his father Philip, and Alexander 
 receiving them in his stead, gained upon them 
 greatly by his politeness and solid sense. He 
 asked them no childish or trifling question, but 
 inquired the distances of places, and the roads 
 through the upper provinces of Asia : he desired 
 to be informed of the character of their king, in 
 what manner he behaved to his enemies, and in 
 what the strength and pov/er of Persia consisted. 
 The ambassadors were struck with admiration, 
 and looked upon the celebrated shrewdness of 
 Philip as nothing in comparison of the lofty and 
 enterprising genius of his son. Accordingly, 
 whenever news was brought that Philip had taken 
 some strong town, or won some great battle, the 
 young man, instead of appearing delighted with 
 it, used to say to his companions, “My father 
 will go on conquering, till there be nothing ex- 
 traordinary left for you and me to do.” As 
 neither pleasure nor riches, but valour and glory 
 were his great objects, he thought, that in pro- 
 portion as the dominions he was to receive from 
 his father grew greater, there would be less room 
 for him to distinguish himself. Every new ac- 
 
 * Philopoemen, like him, had an aversion for 
 wrestling, because all the exercises which fit a 
 man to excel in it make him unfit for war. 
 
 t If it be asked how this shows that Alexander 
 did not love wrestling, the answer is, the Pan- 
 ci'aiinm was a mixture of boxing and wrestling. 
 
 quisition of territory he considered as a diminu- 
 tion of his scene of action ; for he did not desire 
 to inherit a kingdom that would bring him 
 opulence, luxury, and pleasure ; but one that 
 would afford him wars, conflicts, and all the 
 exercise of great ambition. 
 
 He had a number of tutors and preceptors. 
 Leonidas, a relation of the queen, and a man 
 of great severity of manners, was at the head 
 of them. He did not like the name of pre- 
 ceptor, though the employment was important 
 and honourable ; and, indeed, his dignity and 
 alliance to the royal family gave him the title of 
 the prince’s governor. He who had both the name 
 and business of preceptor was Lysimachus, the 
 Acarnanian ; a man who had neither merit nor 
 politeness, nor anything to recommend him, but 
 his calling himself Phoenix ; Alexander, Achilles ; 
 and Philip, Peleus. This procured him some 
 attention, and the second place about the prince’s 
 person. 
 
 When Philonicus, the Thessalian, offered the 
 horse named Bucephalus in sale to Philip, at the 
 price of thirteen talents,* the king, with the 
 prince and many others, went into the field to see 
 some trial made of him. The horse appeared 
 extremely vicious and unmanageable, and was so 
 far from suffering himself to be mounted, that he 
 would not bear to be spoken to, but turned 
 fiercely upon all the grooms. Philip was dis- 
 pleased at their bringing him so wild and un- 
 governable a horse, and bade them take him 
 away. But Alexander, who had observed him 
 well, said, “What a horse are they losing, -for 
 want of skill and spirit to manage him ! ” Philip 
 at first took no notice of this ; but, upon the 
 prince’s o ten repeating the same expression, and 
 showing great uneasiness, he said, ‘ Young man, 
 you find fault with your elders, as if you knew 
 more than they, or could manage the horse 
 better.” “ And I certainly could, ” answered the 
 prince. “ If you should not be able to ride him., 
 what forfeiture will you submit to for your rash- 
 ness?” “ I will pay the price of the horse.” 
 
 Upon this all the company laughed, but the 
 king and prince agreeing as to the forfeiture, 
 Alexander ran to the horse, and laying hold on 
 the bridle, turned him to the sun ; for he had ob- 
 served, it seems, that the shadow which fell 
 before the horse, and continually moved as he 
 moved, greatly disturbed him. While his fierce- 
 ness and fury lasted, he kept speaking to him 
 softly and stroking him ; after which he gently 
 let fall his mantle, leaped lightly upon his back, 
 and got his seat very safe. Then, without pulling 
 the reins too hard, or using either whip or spur, 
 he set him a-going. As soon as he perceived his 
 uneasiness abated, and that he wanted only to run, 
 he put him in a full gallop, and pushed him on 
 both with the voice and spur. 
 
 * That is ;^25 i 8 15J. sterling. This will appear 
 a moderate price, compared with what we find in 
 Varro (de .Ke Rustic. 1 . iii. c. 2), viz. that Q. 
 Axius, a senator, gave 400,000 sesterces for an 
 ass ; and still more moderate, when compared 
 with the account of Tavernier, that some horses 
 in Arabia were valued at 100,000 crowns. 
 
 Pliny, in his Natural History, says, the price 
 of Bucephalus was sixteen talents — Sedece^n 
 talentL feruiit ex Philonici Pharsalli grege 
 emptum. Nat. Hist. lib. viii. cap. 42. 
 
ALEXANDER. 
 
 461 
 
 Philip and all his court were in great distress 
 for him at first, and a profound silence took place. 
 But when the prince had turned him and brought 
 him straight back, they all received him with 
 I loud acclamations, except his father, who wept 
 ’ for joy, and, kissing him, said, “ Seek another 
 I kingdom, my son, that may be wmrthy of thy 
 abilities ; for Macedonia is too small for thee.* * * * § ’ 
 Perceiving that he did not easily submit to au- 
 thority, because he would not be forced to any- 
 thing, but that he might be led to his duty by 
 the gentler hand of reason, he took the method 
 of persuasion rather than of command. He saw 
 that his education was a matter of too great 
 importance to be trusted to the ordinary masters 
 in music, and the common circle of sciences ; and 
 that his genius (to use the expression of Sopho- 
 cles) required — 
 
 The rudder’s guidance and the curb’s restraint. 
 
 He therefore sent for Aristotle, the most cele- 
 brated and learned of all the philosophers ; and 
 the reward he gave him for forming his son was 
 ; not only honourable, but remarkable for its 
 : propriety. He had formerly dismantled the city 
 I of Stagira, where that philosopher was bom, and 
 now he rebuilt it, and re-established the inhabi- 
 tants, w’ho had either fled or been reduced to 
 I slavery.* He also prepared a lawn, called Mieza, 
 for their studies and literary conversations ; 
 
 , where they still show us Aristotle’s stone, seats, 
 i and'shady walks. 
 
 I Alexander gained from him not only moral and 
 political knowledge, but was aLso instructed in 
 those more secret and profound branches of 
 science, which they call acroamatic and epoptic^ 
 
 I and which they did not communicate to every 
 common scholar.! For when Alexander was in 
 i Asia, and received information that Aristotle had 
 : published some books, in which those points were 
 ! discussed, he wrote him a letter in behalf of 
 I philosophy, in which he blamed the course he 
 ! had taken. The following is a copy of it : 
 
 “ Alexander to Aristotle, prosperity. You did 
 wrong in publishing the acroamatic parts of 
 science. J In what shall we differ from others, if 
 the sublimer knowledge which we gained from you, 
 be made common to all the world ? For my part, 
 
 I had rather excel the bulk of mankind in the 
 superior parts of learning than in the extent of 
 power and dominion. FarewelL” 
 
 Aristotle, in compliment to this ambition of his, 
 and by way of excuse for himself, made answer, 
 that those points were published and not pub- 
 lished. In fact, his book of metaphysics is written 
 . in such a manner, that no one can leam that 
 j branch of science from it, much less teach it 
 ■ others : it serves only to refresh the memories of 
 those who have been taught by a master. 
 
 1 1 appears also to me, that it was by Aristotle 
 I rather than any other person, that Alexander was 
 assisted in the study of physic, for he not only 
 loved the theory, but the practice too, as is clear 
 
 * Pliny the elder and Valerius Maximus tell 
 us, that Stagira was rebuilt by Alexander, and 
 this when Aristotle was very old. 
 
 , f The scholars in general were instiiicted only 
 in the exoteric doctrines. Vid. Aul. Cell. lib. 
 XX. cap. 5 . 
 
 ^<^trines taught by private communication, 
 and delivered viva voce. 
 
 from his epistles, where we find that he pre- 
 scribed to his friends medicines and a proper 
 regimen. 
 
 He loved polite learning too, and his natural 
 thirst of knowledge made him a man of extensive 
 reading. The Iliad, he thought, as well as called, 
 a portable treasure of military knowledge ; and 
 he had a copy corrected by Aristotle, which is 
 called the casket copy.* Onesicritus informs us, 
 that he used to lay it under his pillow with his 
 sword. As he could not find many other books in 
 the upper provinces of Asia, he wrote to Harpalus 
 for a supply ; who sent him the works of Philis- 
 tus, most of the tragedies of Euripides, Sophocles, 
 and .^schylus, and the Dithyrambics of Telestus f 
 and Philoxenus. 
 
 Anstotle was the man he admired in his younger 
 years, and, as he said himself, he haxi no less 
 affeaion for him than for his own father: from 
 the one he derived the blessing of life, from the 
 other the blessing of a good life. But afterwards 
 he looked upon him with an eye of suspicion. 
 He never, indeed, did the philosopher any harm ; 
 but the testimonies of his regard being neither so 
 extraordinary nor so endearing as before, he dis- 
 covered something of a coldness. However, his 
 love of philosophy, which he was either bom 
 with, or at least conceived at an early period, 
 never quitted his soul ; as it appears from the 
 honours he paid Anaxarchus, the fifty talents he 
 sent Xenocrates,J and his attentions to Dandamus 
 and Calanus. 
 
 Wheq Philip went upon his expedition against 
 Byzantium, Alexander w'as only sixteen years of 
 age, yet he was left regent of Macedonia and 
 keeper of the seal. The Medari § rebellmg 
 during his regency, he attacked and overthrew 
 them, took their city, expelled the barbarians, 
 planted there a colony of people collected from 
 various parts, and gave it the name ot Alexan- 
 dropolis. Fie fought in the battle of Chaeronea 
 against the Greeks, and is said to have l^en the 
 first man that broke the sacred band of Thebans. 
 In our times an old oak was shown near the 
 Cephisus, called Alexa7iders oak, because his 
 tent had been pitched imder it ; and a piece of 
 
 * He kept it in a rich casket found among the 
 spoils of Darius. A correct copy of this edition, 
 revised by Aristotle, Callisthenes, and Anax- 
 archus, was published after the death of A exan- 
 der. “ Darius,” said Alexander, “used to keep 
 his ointments in this casket ; but I, w'ho have no 
 time to anoint myself, will convert it to a nobler 
 use.” 
 
 t Telestus was a poet of some reputation, and 
 a monument was erected to his memory by Aris- 
 tatus the Sycionian tyrant. Protogenes was sent 
 for to paint this monument, and not arriving 
 w.thin the limited time, was in danger of the 
 tyrant’s displeasure ; but the celerity and excel- 
 lence of his execution saved him. Philoxenus 
 was his scholar. Phiiistus was an histcrian often 
 cited by Plutarch. 
 
 X The philosopher took but a small part of this 
 money, and sent the rest back ; telling the giver 
 he had more occasion for it himself, because he 
 had more people to maintain. 
 
 § We know of no such people as the Medari ; 
 but a people called Maedi there was in Thrace, 
 who, as Livy tells us (1. xxvL), used to make 
 inroads into Macedonia. 
 
 i 
 
462 PLUTARCirs LIVES, 
 
 ground at no great distance, ifi which the Mace- 
 donians had buried their dead. 
 
 This early display of great talents made Philip 
 very fond of his son, so that it was with pleasure 
 he heard the Macedonians call Alexander king^ 
 and him only general. But the troubles which 
 his new marriage and his amours caused in his 
 family, and the bickerings among the_ women 
 dividing the whole kingdom into parties, involved 
 him in many quarrels with his son ; all which 
 were heightened by Olympias, _ who, being a 
 woman of a jealous and vindictive temper, in- 
 spired Alexander with unfavourable sentiments 
 of his father. The misunderstanding broke out 
 into a flame on the following occasion : Philip 
 fell in love with a young lady named Cleopatra, 
 at an unseasonable time of life, and married her. 
 When they were celebrating the nuptials, her 
 uncle Attains, intoxicated with liquor, desired 
 the Macedonians to entreat the gods that this 
 marriage of Philip and Cleopatra might produce 
 a lawful heir to the crown. Alexander, provoked 
 at this, said, “ What then, dost thou take me for 
 a bastard !” and at the same time he threw his cup 
 at his head. Hereupon Philip rose up and drew 
 his sword ; but, fortunately for them both, his 
 passion and the wine he had drank made him 
 stumble, and he fell. Alexander, taking an 
 insolent advantage of this circumstance, said, 
 
 “ Men of Macedon, see there the man who was 
 preparing to pass from Europe into Asia ! he is 
 not able to pass from one table to another without 
 failing.” After this insult, he carried off Olym- 
 pias, and placed her in Epirus, lllyricum was 
 the country he pitched upon for his own re- 
 treat. 
 
 In the mean time, Demaratus, who had engage- 
 ments of hospitality with the royal family of 
 Macedon, and who, on that account, could speak 
 his mind freely, came to pay Philip _ a visit. 
 After the first civilities, Philip asked him what 
 sort of agreement subsisted among the Greeks. 
 Demaratus answered, “ There is, doubtless, 
 much propriety in your inquiring after the har- 
 mony of Greece, who have filled your own house 
 with so much discord and disorder.” This re- 
 proof brought Philip to himself, and through the 
 mediation of Demaratus, he prevailed with Alex- 
 ander to return. 
 
 But another event soon disturbed their repose-. 
 Pexodorus, the Persian governor in Caria, being 
 desirous to draw Philip into a league, offensive 
 and defensive, by means of an alliance between 
 their families, offered his eldest daughter in mar- 
 riage to Aridseus, the son of Philip, and sent 
 Aristocritus into Macedonia to treat about it. 
 Alexander’s friends and his mother now infused 
 notions into him again, though perfectly ground- 
 less, that, by so noble a match, and the support 
 consequent upon it, Philip designed the crown for 
 Aridaeus. 
 
 Alexander, in the uneasiness these suspicions 
 gave him, sent one Thessalus, a player, into 
 Caria, to desire the grandee to pass by Aridaeus, 
 who was of spurious birth, and deficient in point 
 of understanding, and to take the lawful heir to 
 the, crown into his alliance. Pexodorus was in- 
 finitely more pleased with this proposal. But 
 Philip no sooner had intelligence of it, than he 
 went to Alexander’s apartment, taking along 
 with him Philotas, the son of Parmenio, one of 
 his most intimate friends and companions, and, 
 
 in his presence, reproached him with his de- 
 generacy and meanness of spirit, in thinking of 
 being son-in-law to a man of Caria, one of the 
 slaves of a barbarian king. At the same time he 
 wrote to the Corinthians,* insisting that they 
 should send Thessalus to him in chains. Harpalus 
 and Niarchus, Phrygius and Ptolemy, some of 
 the other companions of the prince, he banished. 
 But Alexander afterwards recalled them, and 
 treated them with great distinction. 
 
 Some time after the Carian negociation, Pau- 
 sanias being abused by order of Attalus and 
 Cleopatra, and not having justice done him for 
 the outrage, killed Philip, who refused that 
 justice. Olympias was thought to have been 
 principally concerned in inciting the young man 
 to that act of revenge ; but Alexander did not 
 escape uncensured. It is said that when Pausanius 
 applied to him, after having been so dLshonoured, 
 and lamented his misfortune, Alexander, by way 
 of answer, repeated that line in the tragedy of 
 Medea : f 
 
 The bridal father, bridegroom, and the bride. 
 
 It must be acknowledged, however, that he caused 
 diligent search to be made after the persons con- 
 cerned in the assassination, and took care to have 
 them punished ; and he expressed his indignation 
 at Olympias’s cruel treatment of Cleopatra in his 
 absence. 
 
 He was only twenty years old when he suc- 
 ceeded to the crown, and he found the kingdom 
 • torn in pieces by dangerous parties and im- 
 placable animosities. The barbarous nations, 
 even those that bordered upon Macedonia, could 
 not brook subjection, and they longed for their 
 natural kings. Philip had subdued Greece by 
 his victorious arms, but not having had time to 
 accustom her to the yoke, he had thrown matters 
 into confusion, rather than produced any firm 
 settlement, and he left the whole in a tumultuous 
 state. The young king’s Macedonian counsel- 
 lors, alarmed at the troubles which threatened 
 him, advised him to give up Greece entirely, or 
 at least to make no attempts upon it with the 
 sword ; and to recall the wavering barbarians in 
 a mild manner to their duty, by applying healing 
 measures to the beginning of the revolt. Alex- 
 ander, on the contrary, was of opinion, that the 
 only way to security, and a thorough establish- 
 ment of his affairs, was to proceed with spirit 
 and magnanimity. For he was persuaded, that 
 if he appeared to abate of his dignity in the 
 least article, he would be universally insulted. 
 He therefore quieted the commotions, and put 
 a stop to the rising wars among the barbarians, 
 by marching with the utmost expedition as far 
 as the Danube, where he fought a great battle 
 with Syrmus, king of the Triballi, and defeated 
 him. 
 
 Some time after this, having intelligence that 
 the Thebans had revolted, and that the Athe- 
 
 * Thessalus, upon his return from Asia, must 
 have retired to Corinth l for the Corinthians had 
 nothing to do in Caria. 
 
 t The persons meant in the tragedy were Jason, 
 Creusa, and Creon ; and in Alexander’s appli- 
 cation of it, Philip is the bridegroom, Cleopatra 
 the bride, and Attalus the father. 
 
 Cleopatra, the niece of Attalus, is by Arian 
 called Eurydice, 1. ii. c. 14. 
 
ALEXANDER. 
 
 463 
 
 nians had adopted the same sentiments, he 
 resolved to show them he was no longer a boy, 
 and advanced immediately through the pass of 
 Thermopylae. Demosthenes,” said he, “called 
 me a boy, while I was in Illyricum, and among 
 the Triballi, and a stripling when in Thessaly ; 
 but I will show him before the walls of Athens 
 that I am a man.” 
 
 When he made his appearance before Thebes, 
 he was willing to give the inhabitants time to 
 change their sentiments. He only demanded 
 Phcenix and Prothytes, the first promoters of the 
 revolt, and proclaimed an amnesty to all the rest. 
 But the Thebans, in their turn, demanded that 
 he should deliver up to them Philotas and Anti- 
 pater, and invited, by sound of trumpet, all men 
 to join them who chose to assist in recovering 
 the liberty of Greece. Alexander then gave the 
 reins to the Macedonians, and the war began 
 with great fury._ The Thebans, who had the 
 combat to maintain against forces vastly superior 
 in number, behaved with a courage and ardour 
 far above their strength. But when the Mace- 
 donian garrison fell down from Cadmea, and 
 charged them in the rear, they were surrounded 
 on all sides, and most of them cut in pieces. 
 The city was taken, plundered, and levelled with 
 the ground. 
 
 Alexander expected that the rest of Greece, 
 astonished and intimidated by so dreadful a 
 punislhnent of the Thebans, would submit in 
 silence. Yet he found a more plausible pretence 
 for his severity; giving out that his late pro- 
 ceedings were intended to gratify his allies, being 
 adopted in pursuance of complaints made against 
 Thebes by the people of Phocis and Platsea. 
 He exempted the priests, all that the Mace- 
 donians were bound to by the ties of hospitality, 
 the posterity of Pindar, and such as had opposed 
 the revolt : the rest he sold for slaves, to the 
 number of 30,000. There were above 6000 killed 
 in the battle. 
 
 The calamities which that wretched city suf- 
 fered were various and horrible. A party of 
 Thracians demolished the_ house of Timoclea, a 
 woman of quality and honour. The soldiers 
 carried off the booty ; and the captain, after 
 having violated the lady, asked her whether she 
 had not some gold and silver concealed. She 
 said she had ; and taking him alone into the 
 garden, showed him a well, into which, she told 
 him, she had thrown everything of value, when 
 the city was taken. The officer stooped down 
 to examine the well ; upon which she pushed 
 him in, and then despatched him with stones. 
 The Thracians, coming up, seized and bound her 
 liands, and carried her before Alexander, who 
 immediately perceived by her look and gait, and 
 the fearless manner in which she followed that 
 savage crew, that she was a woman of quality 
 and superior sentiments. The king demanded 
 who she was. She answered, “I am the sister 
 of Theagenes, who in capacity of general, fought 
 Philip for the liberty of Greece, and fell in the 
 battle of Chseronea.” Alexander, admiring her 
 answer and the bold action she had performed, 
 commanded her to be set at liberty, and her 
 children with her. 
 
 As for the Athenians, he forgave them, though 
 they expressed great concern at the misfortune 
 of Thebes. For, though they were upon the 
 point of celebrating the feast of the great mys- 
 
 teries, they omitted it on account of the mourn- 
 ing that took place, and received such* of the 
 Thebans ^ as escaped the general wreck, with 
 all imaginable kindne.ss, into their city. But 
 whether his fury, like that of a lion, was satiated 
 with blood, or whether he had a mind to efface 
 a most cruel and barbarous action by an act of 
 clemency, he not only overlooked the complaints 
 he had against them, but desired them to look 
 well to their affairs, because if anything happened 
 to him, Athens would give law to Greece. 
 
 It is said the calamities he brought upon the 
 Thebans gave him uneasiness long after, and on 
 that account, he treated many others with less 
 rigour. It is certain he imputed the murder of 
 Clitus, which he committed in his wine, and the 
 Macedonians’ dastardly refusal to proceed in the 
 Indian expedition, through which his wars and 
 his glory were imperfect, to the anger of Bac- 
 chus, the avenger of Thebes. And there was 
 not a Theban who survived the fatal overthrow, 
 that was denied any favour he requested of him. 
 Thus much concerning the Theban war. 
 
 A general assembly of the Greeks being held 
 at the Isthmus of Corinth, they came to a reso- 
 lution to send their quotas with Alexander 
 against the Persians, and he was unanimously 
 elected captain-general. Many statesmen and 
 philosophers came to congratulate him on the 
 occasion ; and he hoped that Diogenes of Sinope, 
 w'ho then lived at Corinth, would be of the 
 number. Finding, however, that he made but 
 little account of Alexander, and that he pre- 
 ferred the enjoyment of his leisure in a part of 
 the suburbs called Cranium, he went to see him. 
 Diogenes happened to be lying in the sun ; and 
 at the approach of so many people, he raised 
 himself up a little, and fixed his eyes upon 
 Alexander. The king addressed him in an 
 obliging manner, and. asked him if there was 
 anything he could serve him in. “Only stand 
 a little out of my sunshine,” said Diogenes. 
 Alexander, we_ are told, was struck with such 
 surprise at finding himself so little regarded, and 
 saw something so great in that carelessness, that, 
 while his courtiers were ridiculing the philo- 
 sopher as a monster, he said, “ If I were not 
 Alexander, I should wish to be Diogenes.” 
 
 He chose to consult the oracle about the event 
 of the war, and for that purpose went to Delphi. 
 He happened to arrive there on one of the days 
 called inauspicious, upon which the law per- 
 mitted no man to put his question. At first he 
 sent to the prophetess, to entreat her to do her 
 office ; but finding she refused to comply, and 
 alleged the law in her excuse, he went himself, 
 and drew her by force into the temple. Then, 
 as if conquered by his violence, .she said, “My 
 son, thou art invincible.” Alexander, hearing 
 this, said he wanted no other answer, for he had 
 the very oracle he desired. 
 
 When he was on the point of setting out upon 
 his^ expedition, he had many signs from the 
 divine powers.^ Among the rest, the statue of 
 Orpheus in Libethra,* which was of cypress 
 wood, was in a profuse sweat for several days. 
 
 * This ^ Libethra was in the country of the 
 Odrysse in Thrace. But beside this city or 
 mountain in Thrace, there was the Cave of the 
 Nymphs of Libethra on Mount “Helicon, pro- 
 bably so denominated by Orpheus. 
 
404 
 
 PLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 The generality apprehended this to be an ill 
 presage but Aristander bade them dismiss their 
 fears. It signified, he said, that Alexander 
 would perform actions so worthy to be ccL- 
 brated, that they would cost the poets and 
 musicians much labour and sweat. 
 
 As to the number of his troops, those that put 
 it at the least, say he carried over 30,000 foot 
 and 5000 horse j and they who put it at the 
 most, tell us his army consisted of 34,000 foot 
 and 4000 horse. The money provided for then- 
 subsistence and pay, according to Aristobulus, 
 was only seventy talents j Duris says, he had no 
 more than would maintain them one month ; but 
 Onesicritus affirms, that he borrowed 200 talents 
 for that purpose. ^ ^ 
 
 However, though his provision was so small, 
 he chose, at his embarkation, to inquire into the 
 circumstances of his friends ; and to one he gave 
 a farm, to another a village ; to this the revenue 
 of a borough, and to that of a post. When m 
 this manner he had disposed of almost all the 
 estates of the crown, Perdiccas asked him what 
 he had reserved for himself. The king answered, 
 
 “ Hope.” “ Well/’ replied Perdiccas, “we who 
 share in your labours will also take part in your 
 hopes.” In consequence of which, he refused 
 the estate allotted him, and some others of the 
 king’s friends did the same. As for those who 
 accepted his offers, or applied to him for favours, 
 he served them with equal pleasure ; and by 
 these means most of his Macedonian revenues 
 were distributed and gone. Such was the spirit 
 and disposition with which he passed the Helles- 
 pont. 
 
 As soon as he landed, he went up to Ilium, 
 where he sacrificed to Minerva, and offered 
 libations to the heroes. He also apointed the 
 pillar upon Achilles’s tomb with oil, and ran 
 round it with his friends, naked, according to 
 the custom that obtains ; after which he put a 
 crown upon it, declaring he thought that hero 
 extremely happy, in having found a faithful 
 friend while he lived, and after his death an 
 excellent herald to set forth his praise. _ As he 
 went about the city to look upon the curiosities, 
 he was asked, whether he chose to see Paris’s, 
 lyre. “I set but little value,” said he, “upon 
 the lyre of Paris ; but it would give me pleasure 
 to see that of Achilles, to which he sung the 
 glorious actions of the brave.” * 
 
 In the mean time, Darius’s generals had as- 
 sembled a great army, and taken post upon the 
 banks of the Granicus ; so that Alexander was 
 under the necessity of fighting there, to open 
 the gates of Asia. Many of his officers were 
 apprehensive of the depth of the river, and the 
 rough and uneven banks on the other side ; and 
 some thought a proper regard should be paid to 
 a traditionary usage with respect to the time. 
 For the kings of Macedon used never to march 
 out to war in the month Daisins. Alexander 
 
 * This alludes to that passage in the ninth 
 book of the Iliad : 
 
 Amused at ease the godlike man they found. 
 Pleased with the solemn harp’s harmonious 
 sound ; . 
 
 With these he soothes his angry soul, and sings 
 Th’ immortal deeds of heroes and of kings. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 cured them of this piece of superstition, by 
 ordering that month to be called the second 
 Arte 7 nisins. And when Parmenio objected to 
 his attempting a passage so late in the day, he 
 said the Hellespont would blush, if after having 
 passed it, he should be afraid of the Granicus, 
 At the same time he threw himselt into the 
 stream with thirteen troops of horse ; and as he 
 advanced in the face of the enemy’s arrows, in 
 spite of the steep banks, which were lined with 
 cavalry well armed, and of the rapidity of the 
 river, which often bore him down or covered him 
 with its waves, his motions seemed rather the 
 effects of madness than sound sense. He held 
 on, however, till, by great and surprising efforts, 
 he gained the opposite banks, which the mud 
 made extremely slippery and dangerous. When 
 he was there, he was forced to stand an engage- 
 ment With the enemy, hand to hand, and with 
 great confusion on his part, because they at- 
 tacked his men as fast as they came over, before 
 he had time to form them. P'or the Persian 
 troops charging with loud shouts, and with horse 
 against horse, made good use of their spears, 
 and, when those were broken, of their swords. 
 
 Numbers pressed hard on Alexander, because 
 he was easy to be distinguished both by his- 
 buckler, and by his crest, on each side of which 
 was a large and beautiful plume of white feathers. 
 His cuirass was pierced by a javelin at the joint ; 
 but he escaped unhurt. After this, Rhoesaces 
 and Spithridates, two officers of great dist notion, 
 attacked him at once. He avoided Spithridates 
 with great address, and received Rhoesaces with 
 such a stroke of his spear upon his breastplate, 
 that it broke i* *n pieces. Then he drew his sword 
 to despatch him, but his adversary still maintained 
 the combat. Meantime, Spithridates came up on 
 one side of him, and raising himself up on his 
 horse, gave him a blow with his battle axe, which 
 cut off his crest with one side of the plume. 
 Nay, the force of it was such, that the helmet 
 could hardly resist it ; it even penetrated to his 
 hair. Spithridates was going to repeat his stroke, 
 when the celebrated Clitus prevented him, by 
 running him through the body with a spear. At 
 the same time Alexander brought Rhoesaces to 
 the ground with his sword. 
 
 While the cavalry were fighting with so much 
 fury, the Macedonian phalanx passed the river, 
 and then the infantry likewise engaged. The 
 enemy made no great or long resistance, but soon 
 turned their backs and fled, all but the Grecian 
 mercenaries, who making a stand upon an emi- 
 nence, desired Alexander to give his word of 
 honour that they should be spared. But that 
 prince, influenced rather by his passion than his 
 reason, instead of giving them quarter, advanced 
 to attack them, and was so warmly received, that 
 he had his horse killed under him. It_was not, 
 however, the famous Bucephalus. In this dispute 
 he had more of his men killed and wounded than 
 
 in all the rest of the battle ; for here they had 
 to do with experienced soldiers, who fought with 
 a courage heightened by despair. 
 
 The barbarians, we are told, lost in this battle 
 20,000 foot and 2500 horse ; * whereas Alexander 
 
 * Some manuscripts mention only_ 10,000 foot 
 killed, which is the number we have in Diodorus 
 (505). Arrian (p. 45) makes the number of horse 
 killed only 1000. 
 
ALEXANDER, 
 
 had no more than thirty-four men killed,* nine of 
 which were the infantry. To do honour to their 
 memory, he erected a statue to each of them in 
 bra.ss, the workmanship of Lysippus. And that 
 the Greeks might have their share in the glory of 
 the day, he sent them presents out of the spoil : 
 to the Athenians in particular he sent 300 bucklers. 
 Upon the rest of the spoils he put this pompous 
 inscription, won by Alexander the son of 
 
 PHILIP, AND THE GREEKS (EXCEPTING THE 
 LACED.<EMONIANS), OF THE BARBARIANS IN ASIA. 
 The greatest part of the plate, the purple furniture, 
 and other things of that kind which he took from 
 the Persians, he sent to his mother. 
 
 This battle made a great and immediate change 
 in the face of Alexander’s affairs ; insomuch that 
 Sardis, the principal ornament of the Persian 
 empire on the maritime side, made its submission. 
 All the other cities followed its example, except 
 Halicarnassus, and Miletus; these he took by 
 storm, and subdued all the adjacent country. 
 After this he remained some time in suspense as 
 to the course he should take. One while he was 
 for going with great expedition, to risk all upon 
 the fate of one battle with Darius ; another while 
 he was for first reducing all the maritime pro- 
 vinces ; that when he had exercised and strength- 
 ened himself by those intermediate actions and 
 acquisitions, he might then march against that 
 prince. 
 
 There is a spring in Lycia, near the city of the 
 Xanthians, which, they tell us, at that time 
 turned its course of its own accord, and over- 
 flowing its banks, threw up a plate of brass, upon 
 which were engraved certain ancient characters, 
 signifying that the Persian empire would one 
 day come to a period, and be destroyed by the 
 Greeks. Encouraged by this prophecy, he 
 hastened to reduce all the coast, as far as 
 Phoenice t and Cilicia. His march through 
 Pamphyliahas afforded matter to many historians 
 for pompous description, as if it w'as by the inter- 
 position of Heaven that the sea retired before 
 Alexander, which at other times ran there with 
 so strong a current, that the breaker rocks at the 
 foot of the mountain very seldom were left bare. 
 Menander, in his pleasant way, refers to this pre- 
 tended miracle in one of his comedies. 
 
 How like great Alexander ! Do I seek 
 
 A friend ? Spontaneous he presents himself. 
 
 Have I to march where seas indignant roll ? 
 
 The sea retires, and there I march. 
 
 But Alexander himself, in his Epistles, makes no 
 J t he only Says, he marched from 
 Pnaselis, by the way called Climax. 
 
 (47) says, there were about twenty-five 
 of the king s frv'. 7 ids killed ; and of persons of 
 less note, sixty horse and thirty foot. Q. Curtius 
 informs us, it was only the twenty-five friends, who 
 had statues. They were erected at Dia, a city of 
 Macedonia, from whence Q. Metellus removed 
 them long after, and carried them to Rome, 
 t This Phoenice, as Palermius has obser\'ed, 
 ^district of Lycia or Pamphylia. 
 f. + There is likewise a passage in Strabo, which 
 that there was no miracle in it : — 
 Near the city of Phaselis,” says he, “between 
 J-ycia and Pamphylia, there is a passage by the 
 sea-side, through which Alexander marched his 
 army. Ihis passage is very narrow, and lies 
 
 465 
 
 He had stayed some time at Phaselis ; and 
 having found in the market-place a statue of 
 Theodectes, who was of that place, but then dead, 
 he went out one evening when he had drank 
 freely at supper, in masquerade, and covered the 
 statue with garlands. Thus, in an hour of 
 festivity, he paid an agreeable compliment to the 
 memory of a rnan with whom he had formerly 
 had a connection, by means of Aristotle and 
 philosophy. 
 
 After this he subdued such of the Pisidians as 
 had revolted, and conquered Phrygia. Upon 
 taking Gordium, which is said to have been the 
 seat of the ancient Midas, he found the famed 
 chariot, fastened with cords, made of the bark of 
 the cornel-tree, and was informed of a tradition, 
 firmly believed among the barbarians, that the 
 Fates had decreed the empire of the world to 
 the man who should untie the knot. Most his- 
 torians say that it was twisted so many private 
 ways, and the ends so artfully concealed within, 
 that Alexander, finding he could not untie it, cut 
 it asunder with his sword, and so made many 
 ends instead of two. But Aristobulus affirms, 
 that he easily untied it, by taking out the pin 
 which fastened the yoke to the beam, and then 
 drawing out the yoke itself. 
 
 His next acquisitions were Paphlagonia and 
 Cappadocia ; and there news was brought him of 
 the death of Memnon,* * who was the most re- 
 spectable officer Darius had in the maritime parts 
 of his kingdom, and likely to have given the 
 
 between the shore and the mountain Climax, 
 which overlooks the Pamphylian sea. It is dry 
 at low water, so that travellers pass through it 
 with safety ; but when the sea is high it is over- 
 flowed. It was then the winter season, and 
 Alexander, who depended mitch upon his good 
 fortune, was resolved to set out without staying 
 till the floods were abated ; so that his men were 
 forced to march up to the middle in water.” 
 Strab. lib. xiv. 
 
 Josephus refers to this passage of Alexander, 
 to gain the more credit among the Greeks and 
 Romans to the passage of the Israelites through 
 the Red Sea. 
 
 * Upon the death of Memnon, who had begun 
 with great success to reduce the Greek islands, 
 and was on the point of invading Euboea, Darius 
 was at a loss whom to employ. While he was in 
 this suspense, Charidemus, an Athenian, who had 
 served with great reputation under Philip of 
 Macedon, but was now very zealous for the Per- 
 sian interest, attempted to set the king and his 
 ministers right. “ While you, sir,” said he to 
 Darius, “are safe, the empire can never be in 
 great danger. Let me, there ''ore, exhort you 
 never to expose your person, but to make choice 
 of some able general to march against your 
 enemy. One hundred thousand men will be more 
 than sufficient, provided a third of them be mer- 
 cenaries, to compel him to abandon this enter- 
 prise, and if you will honour me with the com- 
 mand, I will be accountable for the success of 
 what I advise.” Darius was ready to accede to 
 the proposal; but the Persian grandees, through 
 envy, accused Charidemus of a treasonable 
 design, and effected his ruin. Darius repented 
 in a few days, but it was then too late. That able 
 counsellor and general was condemned and exe- 
 cuted. Diod. Sic. 1. xviii. Q. Curt. 1. iii. 
 
 2 H 
 
466 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 invader most trouble. This confirmed him in his 
 resolution of marching into the upper provinces 
 of Asia. 
 
 By this time Darius had taken his departure 
 from Susa, full of confidence in his numbers, for. 
 his army consisted of no less than 600,000 com- 
 batants ; and greatly encouraged besides by a 
 dream, which the Ma .i had interpreted rather in 
 the manner they thought would please him than 
 with a regard to probability. He dreamed that he 
 saw the Macedonian phalanx all on fire, and that 
 Alexander, in the dress which he, Darius, had 
 formerly worn, when one of the king’s couriers, 
 acted as his servant ; after which Alexander went 
 into the temple of Belus, and there suddenly dis- 
 appeared. By this Heaven seems to have sig- 
 nified, that prosperity and honour would attend 
 the Macedonians ; and that Alexander would 
 become master of Asia, like Darius before him, 
 who, of a simple courier, became a king; but 
 that he would nevertheless soon die, and leave 
 his glory behind him. 
 
 Darius was still more encouraged by Alex- 
 ander’s long stay in Cilicia, which he looked 
 upon as the effect of his fear. But the real cause 
 ot his stay was sickness, which some attribute to 
 his great fatigues, and others to his bathing in the 
 river Cydnus, whose water is extremely cold. 
 His physicians durst not give him any medicines, 
 because they thought themselves not so certain 
 of the cure, as of the danger they must incur in 
 the application ; for they feared the Macedo- 
 nians, if they did not succeed, would suspect 
 them of some bad practice. Philip, the Acarna- 
 nian, saw how desperate the king’s case was, as 
 well as the rest ; but, beside the confidence he 
 had in his friendship, he thought it the highest 
 ingratitude, when his master was in so much 
 danger, not to risk something with him, in ex- 
 hausting all his art for his relief. He therefore 
 attempted the cure, and found no difficulty in 
 persuading the king to wait with patience till his 
 medicine was prepared, or to take it when ready ; 
 so desirous was he of a speedy recovery, in order 
 to prosecute the war. 
 
 In the mean time, Parmenio sent him a letter 
 from the camp, advising him to beware of Philip, 
 whom, he said, Darius had prevailed upon, by 
 presents of infinite value, and the promise of his 
 daughter in marriage, to take him off by poison. 
 As soon as Alexander had read the letter, he put 
 it under his pillow, without showing it to any of 
 his friends. The time appointed being come, 
 Philip, with the king’s friends, entered the cham- 
 ber, having the cup which contained the medicine 
 in his hand. The king received it freely, without 
 the least marks of suspicion, and at the same 
 time put the letter in his hands. It was a strik- 
 ing situation, and more interesting than any 
 scene in a tragedy ; the one reading while the 
 other was drinking. They looked upon each 
 other, but with a very different air. The king, 
 with an open and unembarrassed countenance, 
 expressed his regard for Philip, and the con- 
 fidence he had in his honour ; Philip’s looks 
 showed his indignation at the calumny. One 
 while he lifted up his eyes and hands to heaven, 
 protesting his fidelity ; another while he threw 
 himself down by the bedside, entreating his 
 master to be of good courage and trust to his 
 care. 
 
 The medicine, indeed, was so strong, and over- 
 
 powered his spirits in such a manner, that at first 
 he was speechless, and discovered scarce any 
 sign of sense or life. But afterwards he was 
 soon relieved by this faithful physician,* and 
 recovered so well that he was able to show him- 
 self to the Macedonians, whose distress did not 
 abate till he came personally before them. 
 
 There was in the army of Darius a Macedo- 
 nian fugitive, named Amyntas, who knew per- 
 fectly well the disposition of Alexander. This 
 man, perceiving that Darius prepared to march 
 through the straits in quest of Alexander, begged 
 of him to remain where he was, and take the 
 advantage of receiving an enemy, so much in- 
 ferior to him in number, upon large and spacious 
 plains. Darius answered, he was afraid in that 
 case the enemy would fly without coming to an 
 action, and Alexander escape him. “ If that is 
 all your fear,” replied the Macedonian, “let it give 
 3mu no farther uneasiness ; for he will come to 
 seek you, and is already on his march.” How- 
 ever, his representations had no effect : Darius 
 set out for Cilicia ; and Alexander was making 
 for Syria in quest of him : but happening to miss 
 each other in the night, they both turned back ; 
 Alexander rejoicing in his good fortune, and 
 hastening to meet Darius in the straits ; while 
 Darius endeavoured to disengage himself, and 
 recover his former camp. For by this time he 
 was sensible of his error in throwing himself 
 into ground hemmed in by the sea on one side, 
 and the mountains on the other, and intersected 
 by the river Pinarus ; so that it was impracticable 
 for cavalry, and his infantry could only act in 
 small and broken parties, while, at the same 
 time, this situation was extremely convenient for 
 the enemy’s inferior numbers. 
 
 Thus fortune befriended Alexander as to the 
 scene of action ; but the skilful disposition of his 
 forces contributed still more to his gaining the 
 victory. As his army was very small in com- 
 parison of that of Darius, he took care to draw it 
 up so as to prevent its being surrounded, by 
 stretching out his right wing farther than the 
 enemy’s left. In that wing he acted in person, 
 and, fighting in the foremost ranks, put the bar- 
 barians to flight. He was wounded, however, in 
 the thigh, and, according to Chares, by Darius, 
 who engaged him hand to hand. But Alexander, 
 in the account he gave Antipater of the battle, 
 does not mention who it was that wounded him. 
 He only says, he received a wound in his thigh, 
 by a sword, and that no dangerous consequences 
 followed it. 
 
 The victory was a very signal one ; for he 
 killed above 110,000 of the enemy. t Nothing 
 was wanting to complete it but the taking of 
 Darius ; and that prince escaped narrowly, having 
 got the start of his pursuer only by four or five 
 furlongs. Alexander took his chariot and his 
 bow, and returned with them to his Macedonians. 
 He found them loading themselves with the 
 plunder of the enemy’s camp, which was rich and 
 various ; though Darius, to make his troops fitter 
 for action, had left most of the baggage in Da- 
 mascus. The Macedonians had reserved for 
 their master the tent of Darius, in which he found 
 officers of the household magnificently clothed. 
 
 * In three days’ time, 
 t Diodorus says 130,000. 
 
ALEXANDER, 467 
 
 rich furniture, and great quantities of gojd and 
 silver. 
 
 As soon as he had put off his armour, he went 
 to the bath, saying to those about him, “Let us 
 go and refresh ourselves, after the fatigues of the 
 field, in the bath of Darius." “Nay, rather," 
 said one of his friends, “ in the bath of Alex- 
 ander ; for the goods of the conquered are, and 
 should be called, the conqueror's." When he 
 had taken a view of the basons, vials, boxes, and 
 other vases curiously wrought in gold, smelled 
 the fragrant odours of essences, and seen the 
 splendid furniture of spacious apartments, he 
 turned to his friends, and said, “This, then, it 
 seems, it was to be a king ! ” * 
 
 As he was sitting dov/n to table, an account 
 was brought him, that among the prisoners were 
 the mother and wife of Darius, and two un- 
 married daughters; and that upon seeing his 
 chariot and bow, they broke out into great lamen- 
 tations, concluding that he was dead. Alexan- 
 der, after some pause, during which he was rather 
 commiserating their misfortunes, than rejoicing 
 in his own success, sent Leonatus to assure them 
 that Darius was not dead ; that they had no- 
 thing to fear from Alexander, for his dispute with 
 Darius was only for empire ; and that they should 
 find themselves provided for in the same manner 
 as when Darius was in his greatest prosperity. 
 If this message to the captive princesses was 
 gracious and humane, his actions were still more 
 so. He allowed them to do the funeral honours 
 to what Persians they pleased, and for that pur- 
 pose furnished them out of the spoils with robes, 
 and all the other decorations that were cus- 
 tomary. They had as many domestics, and were 
 served, in all respects, in as honourable a manner 
 as before ; indeed, their appointments were 
 greater. But there was another part of his be- 
 haviour to them still more noble and princely. 
 Though they were now captives, he considered 
 that they were ladies, not only of high rank, but 
 of great modesty and virtue, and took care that 
 they should not hear an indecent word, nor have 
 the least cause to suspect any danger to their 
 honour. Nay, as if they had been in a holy 
 temple, or asylum of virgins, rather than in an 
 enemy’s camp, they lived unseen and unap- 
 proached, in the most sacred privacy. 
 
 It is said, the wife of Darius was one of the 
 most beautiful women, as Darius was one of the 
 tallest and handsomest men in the world, and 
 that their daughters much resembled them. But 
 Alexander, no doubt, thought it more glorious 
 and worthy of a king to conquer himself than to 
 subdue his enemies, and therefore never ap- 
 proached one of them. Indeed, his continence 
 was such, that he knew not any woman before 
 his marriage, except Barsine, who became a 
 Widow by the death of her husband Memnon, 
 and was taken prisoner near Damascus. She was 
 well versed in the Greek literature, a woman of 
 the most agreeable temper, and of royal extrac- 
 tion ; for her father Artabaaus was grandson to a 
 king of Persia, t According to Aristobulus, it 
 was Parmenio that put Alexander upon this con- 
 
 nection with so accomplished a woman, whose 
 beauty was her least perfection. As for the other 
 female captives, though they were tall and beau- 
 tiful, Alexander took no farther notice of them 
 than to say, by way of jest, “What eyesores 
 these Persian women are ? " He found a counter- 
 charm in the beauty of self-government and so- 
 briety ; and, in the strength of that, passed them 
 by, as so many statues. 
 
 Philoxenus, who commanded his forces upon 
 the coast, acquainted him by letter, that there 
 was one 'Theodorus, a Tarentine, with him, who 
 had two beautiful boys to sell, and desired to 
 know whether he chose to buy them. Alexander 
 was so much incensed at this application, that he 
 asked his friends several times, what base inclina- 
 tions Philoxenus had ever seen in him, that he 
 durst make him so infamous a proposal. In his 
 answer to the letter, which was extremely severe 
 upon Philoxenus, he ordered him to dismiss 
 Theodorus and his vile merchandise together. 
 He likewise reprimanded young Agnon, for 
 offering to purchase Crobylus for him, whose 
 beauty was famous in Corinth. Being informed, 
 that two Macedonians, named Damon and 
 l imotheus, had corrupted the wives of some of 
 his mercenaries, who served under Parmenio, he 
 ordered that officer to inquire into the affair, and 
 if they were found guilty, to put them to death, 
 as no better than savages bent on the destruction 
 of human kind. In the same letter, speaking of 
 his own conduct, he expresses himself in these 
 terms : “For my part, I have neither seen, nor 
 desired to see, the wife of Darius ; so far from 
 that, I have not suffered any man to speak of her 
 beauty before me." He used to sa}^ that sleep 
 and the commerce with the sex were the things 
 that made him most sensible of his mortality. 
 For he considered both weariness and pleasure 
 as the natural effects of our weakness. 
 
 He was also very temperate in eating. Of this 
 there are many proofs ; and we have a remarkable 
 one in what he said to Ada, whom he called his 
 mother, and had made queen of Caria.* Ada, to 
 express her affectionate regards, sent him every 
 day a number of excellent dishes and a handsome 
 dessert ; and at last she sent him some of her 
 best cooks and bakers. But he said, he had no 
 need of them ; for he had been supplied with 
 better cooks by his tutor Leonidas— a march 
 before day to dress his dinner, and a light dinner 
 to prepare his supper. He added, that the same 
 Leonidas used to examine the chests and ward- 
 robes in which his bedding and clothes were put, 
 lest something of luxury and superfluity should 
 be introduced there by his mother. 
 
 Nor was he so much addicted to wine as he 
 was thought to be. It was supposed so, because 
 he passed a great deal of time at table ; but that 
 time was spent rather in talking than dripking ; 
 every cup introducing some long discourse. Be- 
 sides, he never made these long meals but v/hen 
 
 * This princess, after the death of her eldest 
 brother Mausolus, and his consort Artemisia, who 
 died without children, succeeded to the throne 
 with her brother Hidreus, to whom she had been 
 married. Hidreus dying before her, Pexodorus, 
 her third brother, dethroned her, and after his 
 death his son-in-law Orontes seized the crown. 
 But Alexander restored her to the possession of 
 her dominions. 
 
 * As if he had said, “ Could a king place his 
 happiness in such enjoyments as these ‘i ’* For 
 Alexander was not, till long after this, corrupted 
 by the Persian luxury. 
 
 t Son to a king of Persia’s daughter. 
 
468 
 
 FLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 he had abundance of leisure upon his hands. 
 When business called, he was not to be detained 
 by wine, or sleep, or pleasure, or honourable love, 
 or the most entertaining spectacle, though the 
 motions of others generals have been retarded by 
 some of these things. His life sufficiently con- 
 firms this assertion ; for, though very short, he 
 performed in it innumerable great actions. 
 
 On his days of leisure, as soon as he was risen 
 he sacrificed to the gods ; after which he took his 
 dinner sitting. The rest of the day he spent in 
 hunting, or deciding the differences among his 
 troops, or in reading and writing. II he was upon 
 a march which did not require haste, he would 
 exercise himself in shooting arid darting the 
 javelin, or in mounting and alighting from a 
 chariot at full speed. Sometimes also he diverted 
 himself with fowling and fox-hunting, as we find 
 by his journals. 
 
 On his return to his quarters, when he went to 
 be refreshed with the bath and with oil, he in- 
 quired of the stewards of his kitchen, whether they 
 had prepared everything in a handsome manner 
 for supper. It was not till late in the evening, 
 and when night was come on, that he fook this 
 meal, and then he ate in a recumbent posture. 
 He was very attentive to his guests at table, that 
 they might be served equally, and none neglected. 
 His entertainments, as we have already observed, 
 lasted many hours ; but they were lengthened out 
 rather by conversation than drinking. His con- 
 versation, in many respects, was more agreeable 
 than that of most princes, for he was not deficient 
 in the graces of society. His only fault was his 
 retaining so much of the soldier * as to indulge 
 a troublesome vanity. He would not only boast 
 of his own actions, but suffered himself to be 
 cajoled by flatterers to an amazing degree. These 
 wretches were an intolerable burden to the rest 
 of the company, who did not choose to contend 
 with them in adulation, nor yet to appear behind 
 them in their opinion of their king’s achieve- 
 ments. 
 
 As to delicacies, he had so little regard for 
 them, that when the choicest fruit and fish were 
 brought him from distant countries and seas, he 
 would send some to each of his friends, and he 
 very often left none for himself. Yet there was 
 always a magnificence at his table, and the ex- 
 pense rose with his fortune, till it came to 10,000 
 drach7nas for one entertainment. There it stood ; 
 and he did not suffer those that invited him to 
 exceed that sum. 
 
 After the battle of Issus he sent to Damascus, 
 and seized the money and equipages of the 
 Persians, together with their wives and children. 
 On that occasion the Thessalian cavalry enriched 
 themselves most. They had, indeed, greatly dis- 
 tinguished themselves in the action, and they 
 were favoured with this commission, that they 
 might have the best share in the spoil. Not but 
 the rest of the army found sufficient booty ; and 
 the Macedonians having once tasted the treasures 
 and the luxury of the barbarians, hunted lor the 
 Persian wealth with all the ardour of hounds 
 upon scent. 
 
 It appeared to Alexander a matter of great 
 
 * The ancients, in their comic pieces, used 
 always to put the rodomontades in the character 
 of a soldier. At present the army have as little 
 vanity as any set of people whatever. 
 
 importance, before he went farther, to gain the 
 maritime powers. Upon application, the_ kings 
 of Cyprus and Phoenicia made their submission : 
 only Tyre held out. He besieged that city seven 
 months, during which time he erected va.st mounts 
 of earth, plied it with his engines, and invested it 
 on the side next the sea with 200 galleys. He 
 had a dream in which he saw Hercules offering 
 him his hand from the wall, and inviting him to 
 enter. And many of the Tyrians dreamed,* that 
 Apollo declared he would go over to Alexander, 
 because he was displeased with their behaviour 
 in the town. Hereupon, the Tyrians, as if the 
 god had been a deserter taken in the fact, loaded 
 his statue with chains, and nailed the feet to the 
 pedestal ; not scrupling to call him an A lexandrist. 
 In another dream Alexander thought he saw a 
 satyr playing before him at some distance ; and 
 when he advanced to take him the savage eluded 
 his grasp. However, at last, after much coaxing 
 and taking many circuits round him, he prevailed 
 with him to surrender himself. The interpreters, 
 plausibly enough, divided the Greek term for 
 satyr into two, Sa Tyros ^ which signifies Tyre is 
 thine. They still show us a fountain, near which 
 Alexander is said to have seen that vision. 
 
 About the middle of the siege he made an ex- 
 cursion against the Arabians, who dwelt about 
 Antilibanus. There he ran a great risk of his 
 life, on account of his preceptor Lysimachus, who 
 insisted on attending hirn ; being, as he alleged, 
 neither older nor less valiant than Phcenix. But 
 when they came to the hills, and quitted their 
 horses, to march up on foot, the rest of the party 
 got far before Alexander and Lysimachus. Night 
 came on, and, as the enemy was at no great dis- 
 tance, the king would not leave his preceptor 
 borne down with fatigue and the weight of years. 
 Therefore, while he was encouraging and helping 
 him forward, he was insensibly separated from 
 his troops, and had a dark and very cold night 
 to pass in an exposed and dismal situation. In 
 this perplexity, he observed^ at a distance a 
 number of scattered fires which the enemy had 
 lighted; and depending upon his swiftness and 
 activity, as well as accustomed to extricate the 
 Macedonians out of every difficulty, by taking a 
 share in the labour and danger, he ran to the 
 next fire. After having killed two of the bar- 
 barians that sat watching it_, he seized a lighted 
 brand, and hastened with it to his party, who 
 soon kindled a great fire. The sight of this so 
 intimidated the enemy that many of them fled, 
 and those who ventured to attack him were 
 repulsed with considerable loss. By these means 
 he passed the night in safety, according to the 
 account we have from Chares. 
 
 As for the siege, it was brought to a terrnina- 
 tion in this manner. Alexander had permitted 
 his main body to repose themselves, after the 
 long and severe fatigues they had undergone, 
 and ordered only some small parties to keep 
 
 * One of the Tyrians dreamed, he saw Apollo 
 flying from the city. Upon his reporting this to 
 the people, they would have stoned him, sup- 
 posing that he did it to intimidate them. He 
 was obliged, therefore, to take refuge in the 
 temple of Hercules. But the magistrates, upon 
 mature deliberation, resolved to fix one end of a 
 gold chain to the statue of Apollo, and the other 
 to the altar of Hercules. Diodor. Sic. lib. xvii. 
 
ALEXANDER. 469 
 
 the Tyrians in play. In the mean time, Ari- 
 stander, his principal soothsayer, offered sacri- 
 fices, and one day, upon inspecting the entrails 
 of the victim, he boldly asserted among those 
 about him, that the city would certainly be 
 taken that month. As it happened then to be 
 the last day of the month, his assertion was 
 received with ridicule and scorn. The king 
 perceiving he was disconcerted, and making it 
 a point to bring the prophecies of his ministers 
 to completion, gave orders that the day should 
 not be called the thirtieth, but the twenty-eighth 
 of the month. At the same time he called out 
 his forces by sound of trumpet, and made a 
 much more vigorous assault than he at first 
 intended. The attack was violent, and those 
 who were left behind in the camp quitted it to 
 have a share in it, and to support their fellow- 
 soldiers ; insomuch that the Tyrians were forced 
 to give out, and the city was taken that very 
 day. 
 
 ^ From thence he marched into Syria, and laid 
 siege to Gaza, the capital of that country. 
 While he was employed there, a bird, as it flew 
 by, let fall a clod of earth upon his shoulder, 
 and then going to perch on the cross cords with 
 which they turned the engines, was entangled 
 and taken. The event answered Aristander’s 
 interpretation of this sign : Alexander was 
 wounded in the shoulder, but he took the city. 
 He sent most of its spoils to Olympias and 
 Cleopatra, and others of his friends. His tutor 
 Leonidas was not forgotten ; and the present he 
 made him had something particular in it. It 
 consisted of^oo talents’ weight of frankincense,* 
 and 100 of ihyrrh, and was sent upon recollection 
 of the hopes he had conceived when a boy. It 
 seems Leonidas one day had observed Alexander 
 at a sacrifice, throwing incense into the fire by 
 handfuls; upon which he said, “Alexander, 
 v/hen you have conquered the country where 
 spices grow, you may be thus liberal of your 
 incense ; but, in the mean time, use what you 
 have more sparingly.” He therefore v/rote thus : 
 “ I have sent you frankincense and myrrh in 
 abundance, that you may be no longer a churl to 
 the gods.” 
 
 A casket being one day brought him, which 
 appeared one of the most curious and valuable 
 things among the treasures and the whole 
 equipage of Darius, he asked his friends what 
 they thought most worthy to be put in it. 
 Different things were to be proposed, but he 
 said the Iliad most deserved such a case. This 
 particular is mentioned by several writers of 
 what the Alexandrians say, upon 
 u ^ Heraclides, be true, Homer was no 
 
 bad auxiliary, or useless counsellor, in the course 
 of the war. They tell us, that when Alexander 
 had conquered Egypt, and determined to build 
 there a great city, which was to be peopled with 
 Greeks, and called after his own name, by the 
 advice of his architects he had marked out a 
 piece of ground, and was preparing to lay the 
 foundation ; but a wonderful dream made him 
 
 fix upon another situation. He thought a person 
 with grey hair, and a very venerable aspect, 
 approached him, and repeated the following 
 lines : 
 
 High o’er a gulfy sea the Pharian isle 
 
 Fronts the deep roar of disemboguing Nile. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Alexander, upon this, immediately left his bed, 
 and went to Pharos, which at that time was an 
 island lying a little above the Canobic mouth of 
 the Nile, but now is joined to the continent by 
 a causeway. He no sooner cast his eyes upon 
 the place, than he perceived the commodiousness 
 of the situation. It is a tongue of land, not 
 unlike an istht 7 ius^ whose breadth is proportion- 
 able to its length. On one side it has a great 
 lake, and on the other the sea, which there forms 
 a capacious harbour. This led him to declare 
 that_ Homer, among his other admirable quali- 
 fications, was an excellent architect, and he 
 ordered a city to be planned suitable to the 
 ground, and its appendant conveniences. For 
 want of chalk, they made use of flour, which 
 answered well enough upon a black soil, and 
 they drew a line with it about the semicircular 
 bay. The arms of this semicircle were terminated 
 by straight lines, so that the whole was in the 
 form of a Macedonian cloak. 
 
 While the king was enjoying the design, on 
 a sudden an infinite number of large birds of 
 various kinds rose, like a black cloud, out of the 
 river and the lake, and, lighting upon the place, 
 ate up all the flour that was used in marking out 
 the lines. Alexander was disturbed at the omen ; 
 but the diviners encouraged him to proceed, by 
 assuring him it was a sign that the city he was 
 going to build would be blessed with such plenty 
 as to furnish a supply to those that should repair 
 to it from other nations. 
 
 The execution of the plan he left to his archi- 
 tects, and went to visit the temple of Jupiter 
 Ammon.^ It was a long and laborious journey ; * 
 and beside the fatigue, there were two great 
 dangers attending it. The one was, that their 
 water might fail, in a desert of many days’ 
 journey which afforded no supply ; and the 
 other, that they might be surprised by a violent 
 south wind amidst the wastes of sand, as it 
 happened long before to the army of Cambyses. 
 The wind raised the sand, and rolled it in such 
 waves, that it devoured full 50,000 men. These 
 difficulties were considered and represented to 
 Alexander ; but it was not ea.sy to divert him 
 from any of his purposes. Fortune had sup- 
 
 _* As to his motives in this journey, historians 
 disagree. Arrian ( 1 . iii. c. 3) tells us, he took it 
 in imitation of Perseus and Hercules, the former 
 of which had consulted that oracle, when he was 
 despatched against the Gorgons ; and the latter 
 twice, VIZ. when he went into Libya against 
 Antaeus, and when he marched into Egypt 
 against Busiris. Now, as Perseus and Hercules 
 gave themselves out to be the sons of the Grecian 
 Jupiter, so Alexander had a mind to take Jupiter 
 Ammon for his lather. Maximus Tynus (Serm. 
 XXV.) informs us, that he went to discover the 
 fountains of the Nile; and Justin. (1. xi. c. ii) 
 says, the intention of this visit was to clear up 
 his mother’s character, and to get himself the 
 reputation of a divine origin. 
 
 • The common Attic talent in Troy weight 
 was 56 lb. II oz. 17 gr. This talent consisted of 
 DO min* ; but there was another Attic talent, by 
 some said to consist of 8o, by others of loo minse. 
 1 he mina was n oz. 7 dwt, 16 gr. The talent 
 ot Alexandria was 104 lb. 19 dwt. 14 gr. 
 
470 
 
 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 ported him in such a manner, that his resolutions 
 were become invincibly strong ; and his courage 
 inspired him with such a spirit of adventure, 
 that he thought it not enough to be victorious 
 in the field, but he must conquer both time and 
 place. 
 
 The divine assistances which Alexander ex- 
 perienced in his march, met with more credit 
 than the oracles delivered at the end_ of it ; 
 though those extraordinary assistances, in some 
 measure, confirmed the oracles. In the first 
 place, Jupiter sent such a copious and constant 
 rain, as not only delivered them from all fear of 
 suffering by thirst, but, by moistening the sand, 
 and making it firm to the foot, made the air 
 clear, and fit for respiration. In the next place, 
 when they found the marks which were to serve 
 for guides to travellers removed or defaced, and 
 in consequence wandered up and down without 
 any certain route, a flock of crows made their 
 appearance, and directed them in the wa3^ 
 When they marched briskly on, the crows flev/ 
 with equal alacrity ; when they lagged behind, 
 or halted, the crows also stopped. What is still 
 stranger, Callisthenes avers, that at night, when 
 they happened to be gone wrong, these birds 
 called them by their croaking, and put them 
 right again. 
 
 \Vhen he had passed the desert, and was 
 arrived at the place, the minister of Ammon 
 received him with] salutations from the god, as 
 from a father. And when he inquired whether 
 any of the assassins of his father had escaped 
 him, the priest desired he would not express 
 himself in that manner, for his father was not 
 a mortal. Then he asked whether all the mur- 
 derers of Philip were punished ; and whether it 
 was given the proponent to be the conqueror of 
 the world. Jupiter’ answered, that he granted 
 him that high distinction ; and that the death 
 of Philip was sufficiently avenged. Upon tliis 
 Alexander made his acknowledgments to the god 
 by rich offerings, and loaded the priests with 
 presents of great value. This is the account 
 most historians give us of the affair of the oracle ; 
 but Alexander himself, in the letter he wrote to 
 his mother on that occasion, only says he re- 
 ceived certain private answers from the oracle, 
 which he would communicate to her, and her 
 only, at his return. 
 
 Some say, Ammon’s prophet being desirous to 
 address him in an obliging manner in Greek, 
 intended to say, O Paidion^ which signifies. My 
 Sou; but in his barbarous pronunciation, made 
 the word end with an s, instead of an u, and so 
 said, O pai dios^ which signifies, O Sou of 
 Jupiter. Alexander (they add) was delighted 
 with the mistake in the pronunciation, and from 
 that mistake was propagated a report, that Jupi- 
 ter himself had called him his son. 
 
 He went to hear Psammo an Egyptian philo- 
 sopher, and the saying of his that pleased him 
 most, was, that “All men are governed by God, 
 for in everything that which rules and governs 
 is divine.” But Alexander’s own maxim was 
 more agreeable to sound philosophy : he said, 
 “God is the common father of men, but more 
 particularly of the good and virtuous.” 
 
 When among the barbarians, indeed, he affected 
 a lofty port, such as might suit a man perfectly 
 convinced of his divine original ; but it was in a 
 small degree, and with great caution, that he 
 
 assumed anything of divinity among the Greeks. 
 We must except, however, what he wrote to the 
 Athenians concerning Samos. “ It was not I 
 who gave you that free and famous city, but 
 your then Lord, who was called my father,” 
 meaning Philip.* 
 
 Yet long after this, when he was wounded 
 with an arrow, and experienced great torture 
 from it, he said, “ My friends, this is blood, and 
 not the ichor — 
 
 Which blest immortals shed.” 
 
 One day it happened to thunder in such a 
 dreadful manner, that it astonished all that heard 
 it ; upon which, Anaxarchus the sophist, being 
 in company with him, said, “ Son of Jupiter, 
 could you do so ? ” Alexander answered, with a 
 smile, “ I do not choose to be so terrible Jo my 
 friends as you would have me, who despise my 
 entertainments, because you see fish served up, 
 and not the heads of Persian grandees.” It 
 seems the king had made Hephsestion a presept 
 of some small fish, and Anaxarchus observing it, 
 said, “ Why did he not rather send you the heads 
 of princes ; ” f intimating, how truly despicable 
 those glittering things are which conquerors 
 pursue with so much danger and fatigue ; since 
 after all, their enjoyments are little or nothing 
 superior to those of other men. It appears, then, 
 from what has been said, that Alexander neither 
 believed, nor was elated with, the notion^ of his 
 divinity, but that he only made use of it as a 
 means to bring others into subjection. 
 
 At his return from Egypt _ to Phoenicia, he 
 honoured the gods with sacrifices and solemn 
 processions ; on which occasion the people were, 
 entertained with music and dancing, and tpgedies 
 were presented in the greatest perfection, not 
 only in respect of the magnificence of the scenery, 
 but the spirit of emulation in those who exhibited 
 them. In Athens persons are chosen by lot out 
 of the tribes to conduct those exhibitions ; but in 
 this case the princes of Gyprus vied with each 
 other with incredible ardour ; particularly Ni- 
 cocreon king of Salamis, and Pasicrates king of 
 Soli. They chose the most celebrated actors 
 that could be found ; Pasicrates risked the victory 
 upon Athenodorus, and Nicocreon upon Thes- 
 salus. Alexander interested himself particularly 
 in behalf of the latter ; but did not discover his 
 attachment, till Athenodorus was declared victor 
 by all the suffrages. Then, as he left the theatre, 
 
 * He knew the Athenians were sunk into such 
 meanness, that they would readily admit his 
 pretensions to divinity. So afterwards they 
 deified Demetrius. 
 
 t Diogenes imputes this saying of Anaxarchus 
 to the aversion he had for Nicocreon, tyrant of 
 Salamis. According to him, Alexander having 
 one day invited Anaxarchus to dinner, asked 
 him how he liked his entertainment. “ It is 
 excellent,” replied the guest, “it wants but one 
 dish, and that a delicious one, the head of a 
 tyrant.” Not the heads of the Satrapce^ or 
 governors of provinces, as it is in Plutarch. ^ If 
 the philosopher really meant the head of Nico- 
 creon, he paid dear for his saying afterwards ; 
 for after the death of Alexander, he was forced, 
 by contrary winds, upon the coast of Cyprus, 
 where the tyrant seized him, and put him to 
 death. 
 
ALEXANDER. 
 
 471 
 
 he said, “ I commend the judges for what they 
 have done ; but I would have given half my 
 kingdom rather than have seen Thessalus con- 
 quered.’* 
 
 Hovvever, when Athenodorus was fined by the 
 Athenians for not making his appearance on their 
 stage at the feasts of Bacchus, and entreated 
 Alexander to write to them in his favour ; though 
 he refused to comply with that request, he paid 
 his fine for him. Another actor, named Lycon, 
 a native of Scarphia, performing with great ap- 
 plause before Alexander, dexterously inserted in 
 one of the speeches of the comedy, a verse in 
 which he asked him for ten talents. Alexander 
 laughed, and gave him them. 
 
 It was about this time that he received a letter 
 from Darius, in which that prince proposed, on 
 condition of a pacification and future friendship, 
 to^ pay him 10,000 talents in ransom of the 
 prisoners, to cede to him all the countries on 
 this Side the Euphrates, and to give him his 
 daughter in marriage. Upon his communicating 
 these proposals to his friends, Parmenio said, 
 ‘‘If I were Alexander, I would accept them.” 
 “So would I,” said Alexander,* “if I were 
 Pannenio.” The answer he gave Darius was, 
 that if he would come to him, he should find 
 the best of treatment ; if not, he must go and 
 seek him. 
 
 In consequence of this declaration he began 
 his march ; but he repented that he had set out 
 so soon, when he received information that the 
 wife of Darius was dead. That princess died 
 in childbed ; and the concern of Alexander was 
 great, because he lost an opportunity of exercising 
 his clemency. All he could do was to return, 
 and bury her with the utmost magnificence. One 
 of the eunuchs of the bed-chamber, named Tireus, 
 who \yas taken prisoner along with the princesses, 
 at this time made his escape out of the camp, 
 and rode off to Darius, with news of the queen’s 
 death. 
 
 Darius smote upon his head, and shed a torrent 
 of tears. After which he cried out, “Ah cruel 
 destiny of the Persians ! Was the wife and sister 
 of their king, not only to be taken captive, but 
 after her death to be deprived of the obsequies 
 due to her high rank ! ” The eunuch answered, 
 ‘As to her obsequies, O King, and all the honours 
 the queen had a right to claim, there is no reason 
 to blame the evil genius of the Persians. For 
 neither my mistress, Statira, during her life, or 
 your royal mother, or children, missed any of the 
 advantages of their former fortune, except the 
 beholding the light of your countenance, which 
 the great Oromasdes t vvill again cause to shine 
 With as much lustre as before. So far from being 
 deprived of any of the solemnities of a funeral, 
 the queen was honoured with the tears of her 
 very enemies. For Alexander is as mild in the 
 use of his victories, as he is terrible in battle.” 
 
 Longinus takes notice of this as an instance, 
 that it is natural for men of genius, even in their 
 common discourse, to let fall something great 
 ana sublime. 
 
 t Oromasdes was worshipped by the Persians 
 as the Author of all Good ; and Ari?nanius 
 deemed the Author of Evil ; agi'eeably to the 
 principles from which they were believ’ed to 
 spring. Light and Darkness. The Persian writers 
 call them Verdan and Abriviati. 
 
 On hearing thi.s, Darius was greatly moved, 
 and strange suspicions took possession of his soul. 
 He took the eunuch into the most private apart- 
 ment of his pavilion, and said, “ If thou dost not 
 revolt to the Macedonians, as the fortune of 
 Persia has done, but still acknowledgest in me 
 thy lord ; tell me, as thou honourest the light of 
 Mithra and the right hand of the king, is not the 
 death of Statira the least of her misfortunes I 
 have to lament ? Did not she suffer more dread- 
 ful things while she lived ? And, amidst all our 
 calamities, would not our disgrace have been 
 less, had we met with a more rigorous and savage 
 enemy? For what engagement in the compass 
 of virtue could bring a young man to do such 
 honour to the wife of his enemy ? ” 
 
 While the king was yet speaking, Tireus 
 humbled his face to the earth, and entreated him 
 not to make use of expressions so unworthy of 
 himself, so injurious to Alexander, and so dis- 
 honourable to the memory of his deceased wife 
 and sister ; nor to deprive himself of the greatest 
 of consolations in his misfortune, the reflecting 
 that he was not defeated but by a person superior 
 to human nature. He assured him, Alexander 
 was n>ore to be admired for the decency of his 
 behaviour to the Persian women, than for the 
 valour he exerted against the men. .At the same 
 time, he confirmed all he had said with the most 
 awful oaths, and expatiated still more on the 
 regularity of Alexander’s conduct, and on his 
 dignity of mind. 
 
 Then Darius returned to his friends ; and lifting 
 up his hands to heaven, he said, “ Ye gods, who 
 are the guardians of our birth, and the protectors 
 of kingdoms, grant that I may re-establish the 
 fortunes of Persia, and leave them in the glory I 
 found them ; that victory may put it in my power 
 to return Alexander the favours, which my dearest 
 pledges experienced from him in my fall ! but if 
 the time determined by fate and the divine wrath, 
 or brought by the vicissitude of things, is now 
 come, and the glory of the Persians must fall, 
 may none but Alexander sit on the throne of 
 Cyrus ! ” In this manner were things conducted, 
 and such were the speeches uttered on this occa- 
 sion, according to the tenor of history. 
 
 Alexander having subdued all on this side the 
 Euphrates, began his march against Darius, who 
 had taken the field with 1,000,000 men. During 
 this march, one of his friends mentioned to him, 
 as a matter that might divert him, that the 
 servants of the army had divided themselves into 
 two bands, and that each had chosen a chief, 
 one of which they called Alexander, and the 
 other Darius. They began to skirmish with clods, 
 and afterwards fought with their fists ; and, at 
 last, heated with a desire of victory, many of 
 them came to stones and sticks, insomuch that 
 they could hardly be parted. The king, upon 
 this report, ordered the two chiefs to fight in 
 single combat, and armed Alexander with his 
 own hands, while Philotas did the same for 
 Darius. The whole army stood and looked on, 
 considering the event of this combat as a presage 
 of the issue of the war. The two champions 
 fought with great fury ; but he who bore the 
 name of Alexander proved victorious. He was 
 rewarded with a present of twelve villages, and 
 allowed to wear a Persian robe, as Eratosthenes 
 tells the story. 
 
 The great battle with Darius was not fought 
 
472 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 at Arbela, * as most historians will have it ; but 
 at Gaugamela, which, in the Persian tongue, is 
 said to signify the house of the camel ;t so called, 
 because one of the ancient kings having escaped 
 his enemies by the swiftness of his camel, placed 
 her there, and appointed the revenue of certain 
 villages for her maintenance. 
 
 In the month of September there happened an 
 eclipse of the moon, J about the beginning of the 
 festival of the great mysteries at Athens. The 
 eleventh night after that eclipse, the two armies 
 being in view of each other, Darius kept his men 
 under arms, and took a general review of his 
 troops by torch-light. Meantime Alexander 
 suffered his Macedonians to repose themselves, 
 and with his soothsayer Aristander, performed 
 some private ceremonies before his tent, and 
 offered sacrifices to Fear.§ The oldest of his 
 friends, and Parmenio in particular, when they 
 beheld the plain between Niphates and the Gor- 
 daean Mountains, all illumined with the torches 
 of the barbarians, and heard the tumultuary and 
 appalling noise from their camp, like the hel- 
 lo wings of an immense sea, were astonished at 
 their numbers, and observed among themselves 
 how arduous an enterprise it would be to rneet 
 such a torrent of war in open day. They waited 
 upon the king, therefore, when he had finished 
 the sacrifice, and advised him to attack the enemy 
 in the night, when darkness would hide what 
 was most dreadful in the combat. Upon which 
 he gave them that celebrated answer, I will 
 not steal a victory.” 
 
 It is true, this answer has been thought by 
 some to savour of the vanity of a young man, 
 who derided the most obvious danger : yet others 
 have thought it not only well calculated to en- 
 courage his troops at that time, but politic enough 
 in lespect to the future ; because, if Darius hap- 
 pened to be beaten, it left him no handle to pro- 
 ceed to another trial, under pretence that night 
 and darkness had been his adversaries, as he had 
 before laid the blame upon the mountains, the 
 narrow passes, and the sea. For in such a vast 
 empire, it could never be the want of arms or 
 men that would bring Darius to give up the dis- 
 pute ; but the ruin of his hopes and spirits, in 
 consequence of the loss of a battle, where he had 
 the advantage of numbers and of daylight. 
 
 When his friends were gone, Alexander retired 
 to rest in his tent, and he is said to have slept 
 that night much sounder than usual ; insomuch, 
 that when his officers came to attend him the 
 
 But as Gaugamela was only a village, and 
 Arbela, a considerable town, stood near it, the 
 Macedonians chose to distinguish the battle by 
 the name of the latter. 
 
 t Darius, the son of Hystaspes, crossed the 
 deserts of Scythia, upon that camel. 
 
 X Astronomers assure us, this eclipse of the 
 moon happened the 20th of September, according 
 to the J ulian calendar ; and therefore the battle 
 of Arbela was fought the ist of October. 
 
 § F EAR was not without her altars ; Theseus 
 sacrificed to her, as we have seen in his life : and 
 Plutarch tells us, in the life of Agis and Cleo- 
 menes, that the Lacedaemonians built a temple 
 to Fear, whom they honoured, not as a per- 
 nicious demon, but as the bond of all good 
 government. 
 
 next day, they could not but express their sur- 
 prise at it, while they were obliged themselves 
 to give out orders to the troops to take their 
 morning refreshment. After this, as the occasion 
 was urgent, Parmenio entered his apartment, and 
 standing by his bed, called him two or three 
 times by name. When he awaked that officer 
 asked him why he slept like a man that had 
 already conquered, and not rather like one who 
 had the greatest battle the world ever heard of 
 to fight. Alexander smiled, at the question, and 
 said, “ In what light can you look upon us but 
 as conquerors, when we have not now to traverse 
 desolate countries in pursuit of Darius, and he 
 no longer declines the combat?” It was not, 
 however, only before the battle, but in the face 
 of danger, that Alexander showed his intrepidity 
 and excellent judgment. For the battle was 
 some time doubtful The left wing, commanded 
 by Parmenio, was almost broken by the impetu- 
 osity with which the Bactrian cavalry charged ; 
 and Mazseus had, moreover, detached a party of 
 horse, with orders to wheel round and attack the 
 corps that was left to guard the Macedonian 
 baggage. Parmenio, greatly disturbed at these 
 circumstances, sent messengers to acquaint Alex- 
 ander, that his camp and baggage would be 
 taken if he did not immediately despatch a strong 
 ‘reinforcement from the front to the rear : the 
 moment that account was brought him, he wms 
 giving his right wing, which he commanded in 
 person, the signal to charge. He stopped, how- 
 ever, to tell the messenger, “ Parmenio must 
 have lost his senses, and in his disorder must 
 have forgot, that the conquerors are always 
 masters of all that belonged to the enemy ; and 
 the conquered need not give themselves any con- 
 cern about their treasures or prisoners, nor have 
 anything to think of but how to sell their lives 
 dear, and die in the bed of honour.” 
 
 As soon as he had returned Parmenio this 
 answer, he put on his helmet ; for in other points 
 he came ready armed out of his tent. He had a 
 short coat of the Sicilian fashion, girt close about 
 him, and over that a breastplate of linen strongly 
 quilted, which was found among the spoils, at the 
 battle of Issus. His helmet, the workmanship 
 of Theophilus, was of iron, but so well polished, 
 that it shone like the brightest silver. To this 
 was fitted a gorget of the same metal, set with 
 precious stones. His sword, the weapon he gene- 
 rally used in battle, was a present from the king 
 of the Citieans, and could not be excelled for 
 lightness or for temper. But the belt, which he 
 wore in all engagements, was more superb than 
 the rest of his armour. It was given him by the 
 Rhodians as a mark of their respect, and old 
 Helicon had exerted all his art in it. In drawing 
 up his army and giving orders, as well as exer- 
 cising and reviewing it, he spared Bucephalus on 
 account of his age, and rode another horse ; but 
 he constantly charged upon him ; and he had no 
 sooner mounted him than the signal was always 
 given. 
 
 The speech he made to the Thessalians and the 
 other Greeks was of some length on this occa- 
 sion. When he found that they, in their turn, 
 strove to add to his confidence, and called out to 
 him to lead them against the barbarians, he 
 shifted his javelin to his left hand ; and stretching 
 his right hand towards heaven, according to 
 Callisthenes, he entreated the gods to defend and 
 
ALEXANDER, 
 
 473 
 
 invigorate the Greeks, if he was really the son of 
 
 ■^Xlstander the soothsayer, who rode by hh 
 side in a white robe, and with a crown of gold 
 upon his head, then pointed out an eagle tlying 
 over him, and directing his course against the 
 enemy. The sight of this so animated the troops, 
 that after mutual exhortations to bravery, the 
 cavalry charged at full speed, and tYiQ phai’anx 
 rushed on like a torrent.* Before the first ranks 
 were well engaged, the barbarians gave way, and 
 Alexander pressed hard upon the fugiuves, in 
 order to penetrate into the midst of the host. 
 
 * Plutarch, as a writer of lives, not of his- 
 tories, does not pretend to give an exact descrip- 
 tion of battles. But as many of our readers, we 
 believe, will be glad to see some of the more re- 
 markable in detail, we shall give Arrian s account 
 of this. , , ^ ^ 1 , 
 
 Alexander’s right wing charged first upon the 
 Scythian horse, who, as they were well armed 
 and very robust, behaved at the beginning very 
 well, and made a vigorous resistance. That this 
 might answer more effectually, the chariots 
 placed in the left wing bore dowri at the same 
 time upon the Macedonians. T.heir appearance 
 was very terrible, and threatened entire destruc- 
 tion ; but Alexanders light-armed troops, by 
 their darts, arrows, and stones, killed many of 
 the drivers, and more of the horses, so that few 
 reached the Macedonian line ; which opening, as 
 Alexander had directed, they only passed through, 
 and were then either taken, or disabled by his 
 bodies of reserve. The horse continued still en- 
 gaged ; and, before anything decisive happened 
 there, the Persian foot, near their left wing, began 
 to move, in hopes of falling upon the flank of the 
 Macedonian right wing, or of penetrating so far 
 as to divide it from its centre. Alexander, per- 
 ceiving this, sent Aratas with a corps, to charge 
 them, and prevent their intended manoeuvre. In 
 the mean time, prosecuting his first design, he 
 broke their cavalry in the left wing, and entirely 
 routed it. He then charged the Persian foot in 
 flank, and they made but a feeble resistance. 
 Darius, perceiving this, gave up all for lost, and 
 fled. Vide Arrian, 1. hi. c. 13, and seq. nbi 
 phira, , . - . 
 
 Diodorus ascribes the success, which for a 
 time attended the Persian troops, entirely to the 
 conduct and valour of Darius. It unfortunately 
 happened, that Alexander, attacking his guards, 
 threw a dart at Darius, which, though it missed 
 him, struck the charioteer, who sat at his feet, 
 dead ; and as he fell forwards, some of the guards 
 raised a loud cry, whence those behind them 
 conjectured that the king was slain, and there- 
 upon fled. This obliged Darius to follow their 
 example, who, knowing the route he took could 
 not be discovered on account of the dust and con- 
 fusion, wheeled about, and got behind the Persian 
 army, and continued his flight that way, while 
 Alexander pursued right forwards. Diod. Sic. 1. 
 xvii. , 
 
 Justin tells us, that when those about Darius 
 advised him to break' down the bridge of the 
 Cydnus, to retard the enemy’s pursuit, he an- 
 swered, “ I will never purchase safety to myself 
 at the expense of so many thousands of my 
 subjects as must by this means be lost.” Just. 
 1. xi. c. 14. 
 
 where Darius acted in person. For he beheld 
 him at a distance, over the foremost ranks, 
 amidst his royal squadron. ^ Besides that he was 
 mounted upon a lofty chariot, Darius was easily 
 distinguished by his size and beauty. A nume- 
 rous body of select cavalry stood in close order 
 about the chariot, and seemed well prepared to 
 receive the enemy. But Alexander’s approach 
 appeared so terrible, as he drove the fugitives 
 upon those who still maintained their ground, 
 that they were seized with consternation, and the 
 greatest part of them Dispersed. A few of the 
 best and bravest of them, indeed, met their death 
 before the king’s chariot, and falling m heaps 
 one upon another, strove to stop the pursuit ; for 
 in the very pangs of death they clung to the 
 Macedonians, and caught hold of their horses 
 legs as they lay upon the ground. 
 
 Darius had now the most dreadful dangers before 
 his eyes. His own forces, that were placed in 
 the front to defend him, were driven back upon 
 him ; the wheels of his chariot were, moreover, 
 entangled among the dead bodies, so that it was 
 almost impossible to turn it ; and the horses 
 plunging among heaps of the slain, bounded up 
 and down, and no longer obeyed the hands of the 
 charioteer. In this extremity he quitted the 
 chariot and his arms, and fled, as they tell us, 
 upon a mare which had newly foaled. But, in 
 all probability, he had not escaped so, if Parmenio 
 had not again sent some horsemen to desire 
 Alexander to come to his assistance, because 
 great part of the enem^^’s forces still stood their 
 ground, and kept a good countenance. Upon the 
 whole Parmenio is accused of want of spirit and 
 activity in that battle ; whether it was that age 
 had damped his courage ; or whether, as Calhs- 
 thenes tells us, he looked upon Alexander’s power 
 and the pompous behaviour he assumed with an 
 invidious eye, and considered it as an insupport- 
 able burden.* Alexander, though vexed at 
 being so stopped in his career, did not acquaint 
 the troops about him with the purport of the 
 message ; but under pretence of being weary of 
 such a carnage, and of its growing dark, sounded 
 a retreat. However, as he was riding up to that 
 part of his army which had been represented in 
 danger, he was informed that the enemy were 
 totally defeated and put to flight. 
 
 The battle having such an issue, the Persian 
 empire appeared to be entirely destroyed, and 
 Alexander was acknowledged king of all Asia. 
 The first thing he did was to make his acknow- 
 ledgments to the gods by magnificent sacrifices ; 
 and then to his friends, by rich gifts of houses, 
 estates, and governments. As he _was particu- 
 larly ambitious of recommending himself to the 
 Greeks, he signified by letter, that all tyrannies 
 should be abolished, and that they should be 
 governed by their own laws, under the auspices 
 of freedom. To the Platseans in particular he 
 
 * The truth seems to be, that Parmenio had 
 too much concern for Alexander. Philip, of 
 Macedon confessed Parmenio to be the only 
 r^eneral he knew : and on this occasion he pro- 
 bably considered, that if the wing under his 
 command had been beaten, that corps of Persians 
 would have been able to keep the field, and the 
 fugitives rallying, and joining it there, would have 
 been a respectable force which might have re- 
 gained the day. 
 
474 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 wrote, that their city should be rebuilt, because 
 their ancestors had made a present of their terri- 
 tory to the Greeks, in order that they might fight 
 the cause of liberty upon their own lands. He 
 sent also a part of the spoils to the Crotonians in 
 Italy, in honour of the spirit and courage of their 
 countryman Phaylus,* * * § a champion of the wrest- 
 Img-ring, who in the war with the Medes, when 
 the rest of the Greeks in Italy sent no assistance 
 to the Greeks their brethren, fitted out a ship at 
 his own expense, and repaired to Salamis, to take 
 a share in the common danger. Such a pleasure 
 did Alexander take in every instance of virtue, 
 and so faithful a guardian was he of the honour 
 of all great actions ! 
 
 He traversed all the province of Babylon, which 
 irnmediately made its submission ; and in the 
 district of Ecbatana he was particularly struck 
 with a gulf of fire, which streamed continually, 
 as from an inexhaustible source. Pie admired 
 also a flood of naptha, not far from the gulf, 
 which flowed in such abundance that it formed a 
 lake. ^ The naptha in many respects resembles 
 the bitumen, but it is much more inflammable. 
 Before any fire touches it, it catches light from a 
 flame at some distance, and often kindles all the 
 intermediate air. The barbarians, to show the 
 king its force and the subtil ty of its nature, 
 scattered some drops of it in the street which led 
 to his lodgings ; and standing at one end, they 
 applied their torches to some of the first drops ; 
 for it was night. The flame communicated itself 
 swifter than thought, and the street was instan- 
 taneously all on fire. 
 
 There was one Athenophanes, an Athenian, 
 who, among others, waited on Alexander when 
 he bathed, and anointed him with oil. This man 
 had the greatest success in his attempts to divert 
 him : and one day a boy, named Stephen, 
 happening to attend at the bath, who was homely 
 m his person, but an excellent singer, Atheno- 
 phanes said to the king, “ Shall we make an 
 experiment of the^ naptha upon Stephen ? If it 
 takes fire upon him, and does not presently die 
 out, we^must allow its force to be extraordinary 
 indeed.” The boy readily consented to undergo 
 the trial ; but as soon as he was anointed with it, 
 his whole body broke out into a flame, and Alex- 
 ander was extremely concerned at his danger. 
 Nothing could have prevented his being entirely 
 consumed by it, if there had not been people at 
 hand with many vessels of water for the service 
 of the bath. As it was, they found it difficult to 
 extinguish the fire, and the poor boy felt the bad 
 effects of it as long as he lived. 
 
 Those, therefore, who desire to reconcile the 
 fable with truth, are not unsupported by pro- 
 bability, when they say, it was this drug with 
 which Medea anointed the crown and veil so well 
 known upon the stage.! For the flame did not 
 come from the crown or veil, nor did they take 
 fire of themselves ; but upon the approach of fire 
 they soon attracted it, and kindled imperceptibly. 
 The emanations of fire at some distance have no 
 other effect upon most bodies, than merely to give 
 them light and heat ; but in those which are dry 
 and porous, or saturated with oily particles, they 
 collect themselves into a point, and immediately 
 
 * In Herodotus Phoyllus. See 1 . viii. 47. 
 t Hoc delibutis ulta donis pellicem 
 Serpente fugit alite. Hor. 
 
 prey upon the matter so well fitted to receive 
 them. _ Still there remains a difficulty as to tke 
 gwieration of this naptha whether it derives its 
 inflammable quality from . . . .% or rather from 
 ^le unctuous and sulphureous nature of the soil. 
 For in the province of Babylon the ground is of 
 so fiery a quality that the grains of barley often 
 leap up and arc thrown out, as if the violent heat 
 gave a pulsation to the earth. And in the hot 
 months the people are obliged to sleep upon skins 
 filled with water. Harpalus, whom Alexander left 
 governor of the’country, was ambitious to adorn the 
 loyal palaces and walks with Grecian trees and 
 plants ; and he succeeded in everything except 
 ivy. After all his attempts to propagate that 
 plant, it died ; for it loves a cold soil, and there- 
 temper of that mould, 
 buch digressions as these the nicest readers may 
 endure, provided they are not too long. 
 
 Alexander having made himself master of Susa, 
 found in the king’s palace 40,000 talents in coined 
 money, f and the royal furniture and other riches 
 were of inexpressible value. Among other things, 
 there was purple of Hermione, worth 5000 
 talents, J which, though it had been laid up igo 
 years, retained its first freshness and beauty. The 
 reason they assign for this is, that the purple wool 
 was combed with honey, and the white with 
 white oil. And we are assured, that specimens of 
 the sanie kind and age are still to be seen in all 
 their pristine lustre. Dinon informs us, that -the 
 kings of Persia u.sed to have water fetched from 
 the Nile and the Danube, and put among their 
 treasures, as a proof of the extent of their 
 dominions, and their being masters of the world. 
 
 The entrance into Per.sia was difficult, on 
 account of the roughness of the country in that 
 part, and because the passes were guarded by the 
 bravest of the Persians ; for Darius had taken 
 refuge there. But a man who spoke both Greek 
 and Persian, having a Lycian to his father, and 
 a Persian woman to his mother, offered himself 
 as a guide to Alexander, and showed him how he 
 might enter by taking a circuit. This was the 
 person the priestess of Apollo had in view, when, 
 upon Alexander’s consulting her at a very early 
 period of life, she foretold, that a Lycian should 
 conduct him into Persia. Those that first fell 
 into his hands there were slaughtered in vast 
 numbers. He tells us, he ordered that no quarter 
 should be given, because he thought such an 
 example would be of service to his affairs. It is 
 said, he found as much gold and silver coin there 
 as he did at Susa, and that there was such a 
 quantity of other treasures and rich movables that 
 it loaded 10,000 pair of mules and 5000 camels. § 
 
 At Persepolis he cast his eyes upon a great 
 statue of Xerxes, which had been thrown from its 
 pedestal by the crowd that suddenly rushed in, 
 and lay neglected on the ground. Upon this he 
 stopped, and addressed it as if it had been alive — 
 
 “ Shall we leave you,” said he, “ in this condition, 
 
 * Something here is wanting in the original, 
 
 t Q. Curtius, who magnifies everything, Saji’s 
 50,000. 
 
 X Or 5000 talents’ weight. Dacier calls it so 
 many hundred weight ; and the eastern talent was 
 nearly that weight. Pliny tells us, that a pound 
 of the double-dipped Tyrian purple, in the time 
 of Augustus, was sold for a hundred crowns. 
 
 § Diodorus says 3000. 
 
ALEXANDER. 
 
 475 
 
 on account of the war you made upon Greece, or 
 rear you again, for the sake of your magnanimity 
 and other virtues ? ” After he had stood a long 
 time considering in silence v/hich he should do, he 
 passed by and left it as it was. To give his 
 troops time to refresh themselves, he stayed there 
 four months, for it was winter. 
 
 The first time he sat down on the throne of the 
 kings of Persia, under a golden canopy, Dema- 
 ratus the Corinthian, who had the same friendship 
 and affection for Alexander as he had entertained 
 for his father Philip, is said to have wept like an 
 old man, while he uttered this exclamation, 
 “ What a pleasure have those Greeks missed, who 
 died without seeing Alexander seated on the 
 throne of Darius ! *' ' 
 
 When he was upon the point of marching 
 against Darius, he made a great entertainment 
 for his friends, at which they drank to a degree of 
 intoxication ; and the women had their share in 
 it, for they came in masquerade to seek their 
 lovers. The most celebrated among these women 
 was Thais, a native of Attica, and mistress to 
 Ptolemy afterwards king of Egypt. When she 
 had gained Alexander’s attention by her flattery 
 and humorous vein, she addressed him over her 
 cups in a manner agreeable to the spirit of her 
 country, but far above a person of her stamp. 
 
 I have undergone great fatigues,” said she, “ in 
 wandering about Asia ; but this day has brought 
 me a compensation, by putting it in my power to 
 insult the proud courts of the Persian kings. Ah ! 
 how much greater pleasure would it be to finish 
 the carousal with burning the palaces of Xerxes, 
 who laid Athens in ashes, and set fire to it myself 
 in the sight of Alexander!* Then shall it be 
 said in times to come, that the women of his 
 train have more signally avenged the cause of 
 Greece upon the Persians, than all that the 
 generals before him could do by sea or land.” 
 
 This speech was received with the loudest 
 plaudits and most tumultuary acclamations. All 
 the company strove to persuade the king to com- 
 ply with the proposal. At last, yielding to their 
 instances, he leaped from his seat, and, with his 
 garland on his head, and a flambeau in his hand, 
 led the way. The rest followed with shouts of 
 joy, and dancing as they went, spread themselves 
 round the palace. The Macedonians who got 
 intelligence of this frolic, ran up with lighted 
 torches, and joined them with great pleasure. 
 For they concluded, from his destroying the 
 royal palace, that the king’s thoughts were 
 turned towards home, and that he did not design 
 to fix his seat among the barbarians. Such is the 
 account most writers give us of the motives of 
 this transaction. There are not, however, want- 
 ing those who assert, that it was in consequence 
 of cool reflection. But all agree that the king 
 soon repented, and ordered the fire to be ex- 
 tinguished. 
 
 As he was naturally munificent, that inclination 
 
 * These domes were not reared solely for regal 
 magnificence and security ; but to aid the appetites 
 of power and luxury, and to secrete the royal 
 pleasures from those that toiled to gratify them. 
 Thus, as this noble structure was possibly raised 
 not only for vanity but for riot ; so, probably, by 
 vanity inflamed by riot, it fell. A striking instance 
 of the insignificancy of human labours, and the 
 depravity of human nature. 
 
 increased with his extraordinary acquisitions ; 
 and he had also a gracious manner, which is the 
 only thing that gives bounty an irresistible charm. 
 To give a few instances : Ariston, who commanded 
 the Paeonians, having killed one of the enemy, 
 and cut off his head, laid it at Alexander’s feet, 
 and said, “Among us, sir, such a present is re- 
 warded with a golden cup.” The king answered, 
 with a smile, “An empty one, I suppose ; but I 
 will give you one full of good wine ; and here, 
 my boy, 1 drink to you.” One day, as a Mace- 
 donian of mean circumstances was driving a 
 mule, laden with the king’s money, the mule 
 tired ; the man then took the burden upon his 
 own shoulders, and carried it till he tottered 
 under it, and was ready to give out. Alexander 
 happening to see him, and being informed what 
 it was, said, “Hold on, friend, the rest of the 
 way, and carry it to your own tent ; for it is 
 yours.” Indeed, he was generally more offended 
 at those who refused his presents, than at those 
 who asked favours of him. Hence he wrote to 
 Phocion, that he could no longer number him 
 among his friends, if he rejected the marks of his 
 regard. He had given nothing to Serapion, one 
 of the youths that played with him at ball, 
 because he asked nothing. One day, when they 
 were at their diversion, Serapion took care always 
 to throw the ball to others of the party ; upon 
 which Alexander said, “ Why do you not give it 
 me ? ” “ Because you did not ask for it,” said the 
 youth. The repartee pleased the king much ; he 
 laughed, and immediately made him very valuable 
 presents. One Proteas, a man of humour, and a 
 jester by profession, had happened to offend him. 
 His friends interceded for him, and he sued for 
 pardon with tears ; which at last the king granted. 
 ‘ ‘ If you do really pardon me,” resumed the wag, 
 “I hope you will give me at least some sub- 
 stantial proof of it.” And he condescended to do 
 it in a present of five talents. 
 
 With what a free hand he showered his gifts 
 upon his friends, and those who attended on his 
 person,* appears from one of the letters of 
 Olympias. “ You do well,” said she, “in serving 
 your friends, and it is right to act nobly ; but by 
 making them all equal to kings, in proportion as 
 you put it in their power to make friends, you 
 deprive yourself of that privilege.” Olympias 
 often wrote to him in that manner ; but he kept 
 all her letters secret, except one, which Hephae- 
 stion happened to cast his eye upon, when he 
 went, according to custom, to read over the 
 king’s shoulder ; he did not hinder him from 
 reading on ; only, when he had done, he took his 
 signet from his finger and put it to his mouth. t 
 
 The son of Mazaeus, who was the principal 
 favourite of Darius, was already governor of a 
 province, and the conqueror added to it another 
 government still more considerable. But the 
 young man declined it in a handsome manner, 
 and said, “ Sir, we had but one Darius, and now 
 you make many Alexanders.” He bestowed on 
 Parmenio the house of Bagoas, in which were 
 
 * He probably means in particular the fifty 
 young men brought him by Amyntas, who were 
 of the principal families in Macedonia. Their 
 office was to wait on him at table, to attend with 
 horses when he went to fight or hunt, and to 
 keep guard day and night at his chamber door, 
 f To enjoin him silencej 
 
476 PLUTARCH^ S 
 
 found such goods as were taken at Susa, to the 
 value of looo talents. He wrote to Antipater to 
 acquaint him, that there was a design formed 
 against his life, and ordered him to keep guards 
 about him. As for his mother, he made her 
 many magnificent presents ; but he would not 
 suffer her busy genius to exert itself in state 
 affairs, or in the least to control the proceedings 
 of government. She complained of this as a 
 hardship, and he bore her ill humour with great 
 mildness. Antipater once wrote him a long 
 letter full of heavy complaints against her ; and 
 when he had read it, he said, “Antipater knows 
 not that one tear of a mother can blot out a 
 thousand such complaints.” 
 
 He found that his great officers set no bounds 
 to their luxury, that they were most extravagantly 
 delicate in their diet, and profuse in other re- 
 spects ; insomuch that Agnon of Teos wore silver 
 nails in his' shoes ; Leonatus had many camel 
 loads of earth brought from Egypt to rub himself 
 with when he went to the wrestling-ring ; Philo- 
 tas had hunting-nets that would enclose the 
 space of loo furlongs ; more made use of rich 
 essences than oil after bathing, and had their 
 grooms of the bath, as well as 'Chamberlains who 
 excelled in bed-making. This degeneracy he 
 reproved with all the temper of a philosopher. 
 He told them it was very strange to him, that, 
 after having undergone so many glorious con- 
 flicts, they did not remember that those who 
 come from labour and exercise always sleep more 
 sweetly than the inactive and effeminate ; and 
 that in comparing the Persian manners with the 
 Macedonian, they did not perceive that nothing 
 was more servile than the love of pleasure, or 
 more princely than a life of toil. “ How will that 
 man,” continued he, “ take care of his own horse, 
 or furbish his lance and helmet, whose hands are 
 too delicate to wait on his own dear person ? 
 Know you not that the end of conquest is, not 
 to do what the conquered have done, but some- 
 thing greatly superior?” After this, he con- 
 stantly took the exercise of war or hunting, and 
 exposed himself to danger and fatigue with less 
 precaution than ever ; so that a Lacedaemonian 
 ambassador, who attended him one day, when 
 he killed a fierce lion, said, “ Alexander, you 
 have disputed the prize of royalty gloriously 
 with the lion.” Craterus got this hunting-piece 
 represented in bronze, and consecrated it in the 
 temple at Delphi. There were the lion, the dogs, 
 the king fighting with the lion, and Craterus 
 making up to the king’s assistance. Some of 
 these statues were the workmanship of Lysippus, 
 and others of Leochares. 
 
 Thus Alexander hazarded his person, by way 
 of exercise for himself, and example to others. 
 But his friends, in the pride of wealth, were so 
 devoted to luxury and ease that they considered 
 long marches and campaigns as a burden, and 
 by degrees came to murmur and speak ill of the 
 king. At first he bore their censures with great 
 moderation, and used to say there was something 
 noble in hearing himself ill spoken of while he 
 was doing well.* Indeed, in the least of the 
 good offices he did his friends, there were great 
 marks of affection and respect. We will give 
 
 f Voltaire says somewhere, that it is a noble 
 thing to make ingrates. He seems to be in- 
 debted for the sentiment to Alexander. 
 
 LIVES, 
 
 an instance or two of it. He wrote to Peucestas, 
 who had been bit by a bear in hunting, to com- 
 plain, that he had given an account of the acci- 
 dent, by letters, to others of his friends, and not 
 to him. “But now,” says he, “let me know 
 how you do, and whether any of your company 
 deserted you, that I may punish them if such 
 there were.” When Hephsestion happened to be 
 absent upon business, he acquainted him in one 
 of his letters, that as they were diverting them- 
 selves with hunting the ichneumon,* Craterus 
 had the misfortune to be run through the thighs 
 with Perdiccas's lance. When Peucestas re- 
 covered of a dangerous illness, he wrote a letter 
 with his own hand to Alexippus the physician, 
 to thank him for his care. During the sickness 
 of Craterus, the king had a dream, in conse- 
 quence of which he offered sacrifices for his 
 recovery, and ordered him to do the same. 
 Upon Pausanias the physician’s design to give 
 Craterus a dose of hellebore, he wrote to him, 
 expressing his great anxiety about it, and de- 
 siring him to be particularly cautious in the use 
 of that medicine. He imprisoned Ephialtes and 
 Cissus, who brought him the first news of the 
 flight and treasonable practices of Harpalus, 
 supposing their information false. Upon his 
 sending home the invalids and the superannuated, 
 Euryalochus, the Agsean, got himself enrolled 
 among the former. Soon after, it was discovered 
 that he had no infirmity of body ; and he con- 
 fessed it was the love of Telesippa, who was 
 going to return home, that put him upon that 
 expedient to follow her. Alexander inquired 
 who the woman was, and being informed that 
 though a courtesan, she was not a slave, he said, 
 “ Epryalochus, I am willing to assist you in this 
 affair ; but as the woman is freeborn, you must 
 see if we can prevail upon her by presents and 
 courtship.” 
 
 It is surprising, that he had tiifie or inclination 
 to write letters about such unimportant affairs of 
 his friends, as to give orders for diligent search 
 to be made in Cilicia for Seleucus’s runaway 
 slave ; to commend Peucestas for having seized 
 N icon, a slave that belonged to Craterus ; and 
 to direct Megabyzus, if possible, to draw another 
 slave from his asylum, and take him, but not to 
 touch him while he remained in the temple. 
 
 It is said, that in the first years of his reign, 
 when capital causes were brought before him, 
 he used to stop one of his ears with his hand. 
 
 * The Egyptian rat, called ichneumon, is of 
 the size of a cat, with very rough hair, spotted 
 with white, yellow, and ash-colour ; its nose like 
 that of a hog, with which it digs up the earth. 
 It has short black legs, and a tail like a fox. It 
 lives on lizards, serpents, snails, chameleons, etc., 
 and is of great service in Egypt, by its natural 
 instinct of hunting out and breaking the eggs of 
 the crocodile, and thereby preventing too great 
 an increase of that destructive creature. The 
 naturalists also say, that it is so greedy after the 
 crocodile’s liver, that rolling itself up in mud, it 
 slips down his throat, while he sleeps with his 
 mouth open, and gnaws its way out again. 
 Diod. Sic. p. 32, 78 ; Plin. 1 . vii. c. 24, 25. 
 
 The Egyptians worshipped the ichneumon for 
 destroying the crocodiles. They worshipped the 
 crocodile too, probably as the Indians do the 
 devil, that it might do them no hurt. 
 
ALEXANDER, 
 
 477 
 
 while the plaintiff was opening the indictment, 
 that he might reserve it perfectly unprejudiced 
 for hearing the defendant. But the many false 
 informations which were afterwards lodged, and 
 which, by means of some true circumstances, 
 were so represented as to give an air of truth to 
 the whole, broke his temper. Particularly in 
 case of aspersions on his own character, his 
 reason forsook him, and he became extremely 
 and inflexibly severe; as preferring his reputa- 
 tion to life and empire. 
 
 When he marched against Darius again, he 
 expected another battle. But upon intelligence 
 ! that Bessus had seized the person of that prince, 
 
 ; he dismissed the Thessalians, and sent them 
 home, after he had given them a gratuity of 
 I 2000 talents, over and above their pay. The 
 pursuit was long and laborious, for he rode 3300 
 I f^urlongs in eleven days.* As they often suf- 
 j fered more for want of water than by fatigue, 
 j many of the cavalry were unable to hold out. 
 
 ! While they were upon the march, some Mace- 
 donians had filled their bottles at a river, and 
 j were bringing the water upon mules. These 
 A people, seeing Alexander greatly distressed with" 
 thirst (for it was in the heat of the day), imme- 
 ■ diately filled a helmet with water, and presented 
 I it to ^m. He asked them to whom they were 
 j carrying it; and they said, their sons; “but if 
 j our prince does but live, we shall get other 
 1 children, if we lose them.” Upon this, he took 
 ! the helmet in his hands ; but looking round, and 
 seeing all the horsemen bending their heads, and 
 fixing their eyes upon the water, he returned it 
 without drinking. However, he praised the 
 people that offered it, and said, “If I alone 
 drink, these good men will be dispirited.” t 
 The cavalry, who were witnesses to this act of 
 temperance and magnanimity, cried out, ‘ ‘ Let 
 us march ! We are neither weary nor thirsty, 
 nor shall we even think ourselves mortal, w'hile 
 under the conduct of such a king.” At the same 
 I time they put spurs to their horses. 
 
 They had all the same affection to the cause, 
 
 I but only sixty were able to keep up with him till 
 I he reached the enemy’s camp. There they rode 
 j over the gold and silver that lay scattered about, 
 
 I and passing by a number of carriages full of 
 women and children, which were in motion, but 
 without charioteers, they hastened to the leading 
 squadrons, not doubting that they should find 
 Darius among them. At last, after much search, 
 they found him extended on his chariot, and 
 pierced with many darts. Though he was near 
 his last moments, he had strength to ask for 
 something to quench his thirst. A Macedonian, 
 named Polystratus, brought him some cold 
 water, and when he had drank, he said, “Friend, 
 this fills up the measure of my misfortunes, to 
 think I am not able to reward thee for this act 
 of kindness. But Alexander will not let thee go 
 without a recompense ; and the gods wall reward 
 
 * As this was no more than forty miles a day, 
 our Newmarket heroes would have beat Alex- 
 ander hollow. It is nothing when compared to 
 Charles the Twelfth's march from Bender through 
 Germany, nothing to the expedition of Hannibal 
 along the African coast. 
 
 t Lucan has embellished this story for Cato, 
 and 1^ possibly introduced it merely upon 
 imitation. 
 
 Alexander for his humanity to my mother, to my 
 wife, and children. Tell him I gave him ray 
 hand, for I give it thee in his stead.” So saying, 
 he took the hand of Polj^tratus, and immediately j 
 e:^ired. When Alexander came up he showed t 
 his concern for that event by the strongest t 
 expressions, and covered the body with his own 1 
 robe. I 
 
 Bessus afterwards fell into his hands, and he 1 
 punished his parricide in this manner. He 
 caused two straight trees to be bent, and one of his 
 legs to be made fast to each ; then suffering the 
 trees to rettum to their former posture, his body 
 was tom asunder by the \dolence of the recoil.* 
 
 As for the body of Darius, he ordered it should 
 have all the honours of a royal funeral, and sent 
 it embalmed to his mother. Oxathres, that 
 prince’s brother, he admitted into the number of 
 his friends. 
 
 His next movement was into Hyrcania, which 
 he entered with the flower of his army. There he 
 took a view of the Caspian sea, which appeared 
 to him not less than the Euxine, but its water was 
 of a sweeter taste. He could get no certain in- 
 formation in what manner it was formed, but he 
 conjectured that it came from an outlet of the 
 Palus jMaeotis. Yet the ancient naturalists were 
 not ignorant of its origin : for, many years before 
 Alexander’s expedition, they wrote, that there are 
 four seas which stretch from the main ocean into | 
 the continent, the farthest north of which is the I 
 Hyrcanian or the Caspian.! The barbarians ; 
 here fell suddenly upon a party who were leading ■ 
 hLs horse Bucephalus, and took him. This pro- 
 voked him so much, that he sent a herald to 
 threaten them, their wives, and children, unth 
 utter extermination, if they did not restore him 
 the horse. But, upon their bringing him back, 
 and surrendering to him their cities, he treated 
 them with great clemency, and paid a consider- 
 able sum, by way of ransom, to those that took 
 the horse. 
 
 From thence he marched into Parthia ; where, 
 finding no employment for his arms, he first put 
 on the robe of the barbarian kings ; whether it 
 was that he conformed a httle to their customs, 
 because he knew how much a similarity of 
 manners tends to reconcile and gain men’s hearts ; 
 or whether it was by way of experiment, to see if 
 the Macedonians might be brought to pay him 
 the greater deference, by accustoming them in- 
 sensibly to the new barbaric attire and port 
 which he assumed. However, he thought the 
 Median habit made too stiff and exotic an appear- 
 ance, and therefore took not the long breeches, or 
 the sweeping train, or the tiara ; but adopting 
 something between the Median and Persian 
 mode, contrived vestments lest pompous than the 
 formet, and more majestic than the latter. At 
 first he used tlp^dress only before the barbarians, 
 or his partic^ u: fnends within doors ; but in 
 time he came to wear it when he appeared in 
 public, and sat for the despatch of business. 
 
 * Q. Curtius tells us, Alexander delivered up 
 the assassin to Oxathres, the brother of Darius ; 
 in consequence of which he had his nose and 
 ears cut off, and was fastened to a cross, where 
 he was despatched wdth darts and arrows. 
 
 t This is an error which Pliny too has followed. 
 The Caspian sea has no communication with the 
 ocean. 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 4-S 
 
 This was a mortifying sight to the Macedonians ; 
 yet, as they admired his other virtues, they 
 thought he might be suffered to please himself a 
 little, and enjoy his vanity. Sonie indulgence 
 seemed due to a prince, who, beside his other 
 hardships, had lately been wounded in the leg 
 with an arrow, which shattered the bone in such 
 a manner, that splinters were taken out; who, 
 another time, had such a violent blow from a 
 stone upon the nape of his neck, that an alarming 
 darkness covered his eyes, and continued for 
 some time ; and yet continued to expose his 
 person without the least precaution. On the 
 contrary, when he had passed the Orexartes, 
 which he supposed to be the Tanais, he not only 
 attacked the Scythians and routed them, but 
 pursued them loo furlongs, in spite of what he 
 suffered at that time from a flux. 
 
 There the queen of the Amazons came to visit 
 him, as Clitarchus, Policritus, Onesicritus, Anti- 
 genes, Ister, and many other historians, report. 
 But Aristobulus, Chares of Theangela, Ptolemy, 
 Anticlides, Philo the Theban, Philip, who was 
 also of Theangela, as well as Hecatseusof Eretria, 
 Philip ofChalcis, and Duris of Samos, treat the 
 story as a fiction. And indeed Alexander himself 
 seems to support their opinion. For in one of his 
 letters to Antipater, to whom he gave an exact 
 detail of all that passed, he says, the king of 
 Scythia offered him his daughter in marriage, 
 but he makes not the least mention of the Amazon. 
 Nay, when Onesicritus, many years after, read to 
 Lysimachus, then king, the fourth book of his 
 history, in which this story was introduced, he 
 smiled and said, “ Where was I at that time?” 
 But whether we give credit to this particular, or 
 not, is a matter that will neither add to nor lessen 
 our opinion of Alexander. 
 
 As he was afraid that many of the Macedonians 
 might dislike the remaining fatigues of the expe- 
 dition, he left the greatest part of his army in 
 quarters, and entered Hyrcania with a select body 
 of 20,000 foot and 3000 horse. The purport of his 
 speech upon the occasion was this: “Hitherto 
 the barbarians have seen us only as in a dream. 
 If you should think of returning, after having 
 given Asia the alarm only, they will fall upon you 
 with contempt as unenterprising and effeminate. 
 Nevertheless, such as desire to depart have my 
 consent for it : but, at the same time, I call the 
 gods to witness, that they desert their king when 
 he is conquering the world for the Macedonians, 
 and leave him to the kinder and more faithful 
 attachment of those few friends that will follow 
 his fortune.” This is almost word for word the 
 same with what he wrote to Antipater ; and he 
 adds, that he had no sooner done speaking, 
 than they cried, he might lead them to what part 
 of the world he pleased. Thus he tried the dis- 
 position of these brave men : and there was no 
 difficulty in bringing the whole body into their 
 sentiments ; they followed of course. 
 
 After this, he accommodated himself more than 
 ever to the manners of the Asiatics, and at the 
 same time persuaded them to adopt some of the 
 Macedonian fashions ; for by a mixture of both he 
 thought a union might be promoted much better 
 than by force, and his authority maintained when 
 he was at a distance. For the same reason he 
 elected 30,000 boys, and gave them masters to 
 instruct them in the Grecian literature, as well as 
 to train them to arms in the Macedonian manner. 
 
 As for his marriage with Roxana, it was entirely 
 the efl'ect of love. He saw her at an entertain- 
 ment, and found her charms irresistible. Nor 
 was the match unsuitable to the situation of his 
 affairs. The barbarians placed greater confidence 
 in him on account of that alliance, and his chas- 
 tity gained their affection ; it delighted them to 
 think, he would not approach the only woman he 
 ever passionately loved without the sanction of 
 marriage. 
 
 Hephaestion and Craterus were his two favour- 
 ites. The former praised the Persian fashions, 
 and dressed as he did ; the latter adhered to the 
 customs of his own country. He therefore em- 
 ployed Hephaestion in his transactions with the 
 barbarians, and Craterus to signify his pleasure 
 to the Greeks and Macedonians. The one had 
 more of his love, and the other more of his esteem. 
 He was persuaded indeed, and he often said, 
 Hephaestion loved Alexander, and Craterus the 
 king. Hence arose private animosities, which 
 did not fail to break out upon occasion. One day, 
 in India, they drew their swords, and came to 
 blows. The friends of each were joining in the 
 quarrel, when Alexander interposed. He told 
 Hephaes tion publicly, he was a fool and a mad- 
 man, not to be sensible, that without his master’s 
 favour he would be nothing. He gave Craterus 
 also a severe reprimand in private ; and after 
 having brought them together again, and recon- 
 ciled them, he swore by Jupiter Ammon, and all 
 the other gods, that he loved them more than all 
 the men in the world : but, if he perceived them 
 at variance again, he would put them both to 
 death, or him, at least, who began the quarrel. 
 This is said to have had such an effect upon them 
 that they never expressed any dislike to each 
 other, even in jest, afterv/ards. 
 
 Among the Macedonians, Philotas, the son of 
 Parmenio, had greater authority ; for he was not 
 only valiant and indefatigable in the field, but, 
 after Alexander, no man loved his friend more, 
 or had a greater spirit of generosity. We are 
 told, that a friend of his one day requested a 
 sum of money, and he ordered it to be given 
 him. The steward said, he had it not to give. 
 “ What,” says Philotas, “ hast thou not plate, or 
 some other movable ? ’’ However, he affected an 
 ostentation of wealth, and a magnificence in his 
 dress and table, that was above the condition of 
 a subject. Besides, the loftiness of his port was 
 altogether extravagant ; not tempered with any 
 natural graces, but formal and uncouth, it ex- 
 posed him both to hatred and suspicion ; inso- 
 much that Parmenio one day said to him, “ My 
 son, be less.” He had long been represented in 
 an invidious light to Alexander. When Damas- 
 cus, with all its riches, was taken, upon the 
 defeat of Darius in Cilicia, among the number of 
 captives that were brought to the camp, there 
 was a beautiful young woman, called Antigone, a 
 native of Pydna, who fell to the share of Philotas. 
 Like a . young soldier with a favourite mistress, 
 in his cups he indulged his vanity, and let many 
 indiscreet tnings escape him ; attributing all the 
 great actions of the war to himself and to his 
 father. As for Alexander, he called him a boy, 
 who by their means enjoyed the title of a con- 
 queror. The woman told these things imconfi- 
 dence to one of her acquaintance, and he (as is 
 common) mentioned them to another. At last, 
 they came to the ear of Craterus, who took the 
 
ALEXANDER. 
 
 479 
 
 v/oman privately before Alexander. When the 
 king had heard the whole from her own mouth, 
 he ordered her to go as usual to Philotas, but to 
 make her report to him of all that he said. 
 Philotas, ignorant of the snares that were laid for 
 him, conversed with the woman without the least 
 reserve, and either in his resentment or pride 
 uttered many unbecoming things against Alex- 
 ander. That prince, though he had sufficient 
 proof against Philotas, kept the matter private, 
 and discovered no tokens of aversion ; whether it 
 was that he confided in Parmenio’s attachment to 
 him, or whether he was afraid of the power and 
 interest of the family. 
 
 About this time, a Macedonian, named Lim- 
 nus,* a native of Chalaestra, conspired against 
 Alexander’s life, and communicated his design to 
 one Nicomachus, a youth that he was fond of ; 
 desiring him to take a part in the enterprise. 
 Nicomachus, instead of embracing the proposal, 
 informed his brother Balinus t of the plot, who 
 went immediately to Philotas, and desired him 
 to introduce them to Alexander ; assuring him 
 it was upon business of great importance. 
 ^Vhatever might be his reason (for it is not 
 known) Philotas refused them admittance, on 
 pretence that Alexander had other great en- 
 gagements then upon his hands. They applied 
 again, and met with a denial. By this time they 
 entertained some suspicion of Philotas, and 
 addressed themselves to hletron, who introduced 
 them to the king immediately. They informed 
 him first of the conspiracy ^ of Limnus, and 
 then hinted to him their suspicions of Philotas, 
 on account of his rejecting two several applica- 
 tions. 
 
 Alexander was incensed at this negh'gence ; 
 and when he found that the person who was sent 
 to arrest Limnus, had killed him J because he 
 stood upon his defence and refused to be taken, 
 it disturbed him still more, to think he had lost 
 the means of discovering his accomplices. His 
 resentment against Philotas gave opportunity to 
 those who had long hated that officer to avow 
 their dislike, and to declare, how much the king 
 was to blame in suffering himself to be so easily 
 imposed upon as to think that Limnus, an insig- 
 nificant Chalaestrean, durst engage, of his own 
 accord, in such a bold design. “No doubt,” said 
 they, “he was the agent, or rather the instrument, 
 of some superior baud ; and the king should 
 trace out the source of the conspiracy among 
 those who have the most interest in having it 
 concealed.” 
 
 As he began to listen to these discourses, and 
 to give way to his suspicions, it brought innu- 
 merable accusations against Philotas, some of 
 them very groundless. He was apprehended and 
 put to the torture, in presence of the great officers 
 of the court. Alexander had placed himself 
 behind the tapestry to hear the examination ; 
 and when he found that Philotas bemoaned him- 
 self in such a lamentable manner, and had re- 
 course to such mean supplications to Hephaestion, 
 he is reported to have said, “ O Philotas, durst 
 thou, with all this unmanly weakness, embark in 
 so great and hazardous an enterprise ? ” 
 
 * It should, undoubtedly, be read Dym7ms^ as 
 Q. Curtius and Diodorus have it. 
 t Q. Curtius calls him Cebalinus. 
 t Other authors say, he killed himself. 
 
 After the execution of Philotas, he imme- 
 diately sent orders into Media, that Parmenio 
 should be put to death; a man who had a sh^e 
 in most of Philip’s conquests, and who was the 
 principal, if not the only one, of the old coun- 
 cilors, who put Alexander upon his expedition 
 into Asia. Of three sons whom he took over 
 with him, he had seen two slain in battle, and 
 with the third he fell a sacrifice himself. These 
 proceedings made Alexander terrible to his 
 friends, particularly to Antipater. That regent, 
 therefore, sent privately to the iEtolians, and 
 entered into league with them. They had some- 
 thing to fear from Alexander, as well as he, for 
 they had sacked the city of the CEniades ; and 
 when the king was informed of it, he said, “The 
 children of the CEniades need not revenge their 
 cause ; I will punish the .^tolians myselfi” 
 
 Soon after this happened the affair of Clitus ; 
 which, however simply related, is much more 
 shocking than the execution of Philotas. Yet, if 
 we reflect on the occasion and circumstances of 
 the thing, we shall conclude it was a misfortune, 
 rather than a deliberate act, and that Alexander’s 
 unhappy passion and intoxication only furnished 
 the evil genius of Clitus with the means of 
 accomplishing his destruction. It happened in 
 the following manner. The king had some 
 Grecian fruit brought him from on board a vessel, 
 and as he greatly admired its freshness and 
 beauty, he desired Clitus to see it, and partake 
 of it. It happened that Clitus was offering sacri- 
 fice that day ; but he left it to wait upon the 
 king. Three of the sheep on which the libation 
 was already poured, followed him. The king, 
 informed of that accident, consulted his sooth- 
 sayers, Aristander and Cleomantis the Spartan, 
 upon it ; and they assured him it was a very bad 
 omen. He, therefore, ordered the victims to be 
 immediately offered for the health of Clitus ; the 
 rather because three days before he had a strange 
 and al^ming dream, in which Clitus appeared in 
 mourning, sitting by the dead sons of Parmenio. 
 However, before the sacrifice was finished, Clitus 
 went to sup wth the king, who that day had 
 been paying his homage to Castor and Pollux. 
 
 After they were warmed with drinking, some- 
 body began to sing the verses of one Pranicus, or, 
 as others will have it, of Pierio, written in ridi- 
 cule of the Macedonian officers who had lately 
 been beaten by the barbarians. The older part 
 of the company were greatly offended at it, and 
 condemned both the poet and the singer ; but 
 Alexander, and those about him, listened with 
 pleasure, and bade him go on. Clitus, who by 
 this time had drank too much, and was naturally 
 rough and froward, could not bear their beha- 
 viour. He said it was not well done to make a 
 jest, and that among barbarians and enemies, of 
 Macedonians that were much better men than the 
 laughers, though they had met with a misfortune. 
 Alexander made answer that Clitus was pleading 
 his own cause, when he gave cowardice the soft 
 name of misfortune. Then Clitus started up, and 
 said, “ Yet it was this cowardice that saved you, 
 son of Jupiter as you are, when you were turning 
 your back to the sword of Spithridates. It is by 
 the blood of the Macedonians and these wounds 
 that you are grown so great that you disdain to 
 acknowledge Philip for your father, and will 
 needs pass yourself for the son of Jupiter 
 Ammon.” 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 4S0 
 
 Irritated at this insolence, Alexander replied, 
 “It is in this villainous manner thou talkest of 
 me in all companies, and stirrest up the Mace- 
 donians to mutiny; but dost thou think to enjoy 
 it long?” “ And what do we enjoy now?” said 
 Clitus, “ what reward have we for all our toils ? 
 Do we not envy those who did not live to see 
 Macedonians bleed under Median rods, or sue 
 to Persians for access to their king?” While 
 Clitus went on in this rash manner, and the king 
 retorted upon him with equal bitterness, the old 
 men interposed, and endeavoured to allay the 
 name. Meantime Alexander turned to Xeno- 
 dochus the Cardian, and Artemius the Colopho- 
 nian, and said, “ Do not the Greeks appear to 
 you among the Macedonians like demi-gods 
 among so many wild beasts ? ” Clitus, far, from 
 giving up the dispute, called upon Alexander to 
 speak out what he had to say, or not to invite 
 freemen to his table, who would declare their 
 sentiments without reserve. “ But, perhaps,” 
 continued he, “it were better to pass your life 
 with barbarians and slaves, who will w'orship 
 your Persian girdle and white robe without 
 scruple.” 
 
 Alexander, no longer able to restrain his 
 anger, threw an apple at his face, and then 
 looked about for his sword. But Aristophanes,* 
 one of his guards, had taken it away in time, and 
 the company gathered about him, and entreated 
 him to be quiet. Their remonstrances, however, 
 were vain. He broke from them, and called out, 
 in the Macedonian language, for his guards, 
 which was the signal for a great tumult. At the 
 same time he ordered the trumpeter to sound, 
 and struck him with his fist, upon his discovering 
 an unwillingness to obey. This man was after- 
 wards held in great esteem, because he prevented 
 the whole army from being alarmed. 
 
 As Clitus would not make the least submission, 
 his friends, with much ado, forced him out of 
 the room. But he soon returned by another 
 door, repeating, in a bold and disrespectful tone, 
 those verses from the Andromache of Euripides : 
 
 Are these your customs ? Is it thus that Greece 
 Rewards her combatants ? t Shall one man claim 
 The trophies won by thousands ? 
 
 Then Alexander snatched a spear from one of 
 his guards, and meeting Clitus as he was putting 
 by the curtain, ran him through the body. _ He 
 fell immediately to the ground, and with a dismal 
 groan expired. 
 
 Alexander’s rage subsided in 'a moment; he 
 came to himself ; and seeing his friends standing 
 in silent astonishment by him, he hastily drew 
 the spear out of the dead body, and was applying 
 it to his own throat, when his guards seized his 
 hands, and carried him by force into his chamber. 
 He passed that night and the next day in anguish 
 inexpressible ; and when he had wasted himself 
 with tears and lamentations, he lay in speechless 
 grief, uttering only now and then a groan. His 
 friends, alarmed at this melancholy silence, forced 
 themselves into the room, and attempted to console 
 him. But he would listen to none of them, except 
 Aristander, who put him in mind of his dream 
 and the ill omen of the sheep, and assured him, 
 that the whole was by the decree of fate. As he 
 
 * Q. Curtius and Arrian call him Aristonus. 
 t This is the speech of Peleus to Menelaus. 
 
 seemed a little comforted, Callisthenes the philo- 
 sopher, Aristotle’s near relation, and Anaxarchus 
 the Abderite, were called in.* Callisthenes be- 
 gan in a soft and tender manner, endeavouring 
 to relieve him without searching the wound. But 
 Anaxarchus, who had a particular walk in philo- 
 sophy, and looked upon his fellow-labourers in 
 science with contempt, cried out, on entering the 
 room, “ Is this Alexander upon whom the whole 
 world have their eyes? Can it be he who lies 
 extended on the ground, crying like a slave, in 
 fear of the law and the tongues of men, to whom 
 he should himself be a law, and the measure of 
 right and wrong ? What did he conquer for but 
 to rule and to command, not servilely to submit 
 to the vain opinions of men? Know you not,” 
 continued he, “that Jupiter is represented with 
 Themis and Justice by his side, to shovy, that 
 whatever is done by supreme power is right?” 
 By this, and other discourses of the same kind, 
 he alleviated the king’s giief, indeed, but made 
 him, withal, more haughty and unjust.^ At the 
 same time he insinuated himself into his favour 
 in so extraordinary a manner, that^ he could no 
 longer bear the conversation of Callisthenes, who 
 before was not very agreeable, on account of his 
 austerity. 
 
 One day a dispute had arisen at table about 
 the seasons and the temperature of the climate. 
 Callisthenes held with those^ who asserted, that 
 the country they were then in was much -colder, 
 and the winters more severe, than in^ Greece. 
 Anaxarchus maintained the contrary with great 
 obstinacy. Upon which Callisthenes said, “ _Yo_u 
 must needs acknowledge, my friend, that_ this js 
 much the colder ; for there you went in winter in 
 one cloak, and here you cannot sit at table with- 
 out three housing coverlets one over another.” 
 This stroke went to the heart of Anaxarchus. 
 
 Callisthenes was disagreeable to all the other 
 sophists and flatterers at court ; the more so, be- 
 cause he was followed by the young men on 
 account of his eloquence, and no less acceptable 
 to the old for his regular, grave, self-satisfied 
 course of life. All which confirms what was said 
 to be the cause of his going to Alexander, namely, 
 an ambition to bring his fellow citizens back, and 
 to re-people the place of his nativity.! His great 
 reputation naturally exposed hirn to envy ; and 
 he gave some room for calumny himself, by often 
 refusing the king’s invitations, and when he did 
 go to Ms entertainments, by sitting solemn and 
 silent ; which showed that he could neither com- 
 mend, nor was satisfied with what passed ; inso- 
 much that Alexander said to him one day — 
 
 I hate the sage 
 
 Who reaps no fruits of wisdom to himself. 
 
 * Callisthenes was of the city of Olynthus, and 
 had been recommended to Alexander by Aristotle, 
 whose relation he was. He had too much of the 
 spirit, of liberty to be fit for a court. He did not 
 show It, however, in this instance. Aristotle fore- 
 warned him, that if he went on to treat the king 
 with the freedom with which his spirit prompted, 
 it would one day be fatal to him. 
 
 t Olynthus was one of the cities destroyed by 
 Philip ; whether Alexander permitted the philo- 
 sopher to re-establish it is uncertain ; but Cicero 
 informs us, that, in his time, it was a flourishing 
 place. Vide Or. iii. in Verrem. 
 
ALEXANDER. 
 
 481 
 
 Once when he was at the king’s table with a 
 large company, and the cup came to him, he was 
 desired to pronounce an eulogium upon the Mace- 
 donians extempore, which he did with so much 
 eloquence, that the guests, beside their plaudits, 
 rose up and covered him with their garlands. 
 Upon this, Alexander said, in the words of Euri- 
 pides — 
 
 When great the theme, ’tis easy to excel. 
 
 “ But show us now,” continued he, “ the power 
 of your rhetoric, in speaking against the Mace- 
 donians, that they may see their faults, and 
 amend.” 
 
 Then the orator took the other side, and spoke 
 with equal fluency against the encroachments 
 and other faults of the Macedonians, as well as 
 against the divisions among the Greeks, which he 
 showed to be the only cause of the great increase 
 of Philip’s power ; concluding with these words — 
 Amidst sedition’s waves 
 
 The worst of mortals may emerge to honour. 
 By this he drew upon himself the implacable 
 hatred of the Macedonians, and Alexander said, 
 he gave not, in this case, a specimen of his 
 eloquence, but of his malevolence. 
 
 Hermippus assures us, that Stroibus, a person 
 employed by Callisthenes to read to him, gave 
 this account of the matter to Aristotle. He adds, 
 that Callisthenes perceiving the king’s aversion to 
 him, repeated this verse two or three times at 
 parting — 
 
 Patroclus, thy superior is no more. 
 
 It was not, therefore, without reason, that Aris- 
 totle said of Callisthenes, “ His eloquence, in- 
 deed, is great, but he wants common sense.” He 
 not only refused, with all the firmness of a philo- 
 sopher, to pay his respects to Alexander by pros- 
 tration, but stood forth singly, and uttered in 
 public many grievances which the best and oldest 
 of the Macedonians durst not reflect upon but in 
 secret, though they were as much displeased at 
 them as he. By preventing the prostration, he 
 saved the Greeks, indeed, from a great dishonour, 
 and Alexander from a greater ; but he ruined 
 himself ; because his manner was such, that he 
 seemed rather desirous to compel than to per- 
 suade. 
 
 Chares of Mitylene tells us, that Alexander, at 
 one of his entertainments, after he had drank, 
 reached the cup to one of his friends. That 
 friend had no sooner received it than he rose up, 
 and turning towards the hearth,* where stood the 
 domestic gods, to drink, he worshipped, and then 
 kissed Alexander. This done, he took his place 
 against the table. All the guests did the same in 
 their order, except Callisthenes. When it came 
 to his turn, he drank, and then approached to 
 give the king a kiss, who being engaged in some 
 discourse with Hephaestion, happened not to 
 mind him. But Demetrius, surnamed Phidon, 
 
 * Dacier is of opinion that, by this action, the 
 flatterer wanted to insinuate, that Alexander 
 ought to be reckoned among the domestic gods. 
 But, as the king sat in that part of the room 
 where the Penates were, we rather think it was a 
 vile excuse to the man’s own conscience for this 
 act of religious worship, because their position 
 made it dubious, whether it was intended for 
 Alexander or for them. 
 
 cried out, Receive not his kiss ; for he alone 
 has not adored you.” Upon which Alexander 
 refused it, and Callisthenes said aloud, “Then I 
 return one kiss the poorer.” 
 
 A coldness, of course, ensued ; but many other 
 things contributed to his fall. In the first place, 
 Hephsestion’s report was believed, that Callis- 
 thenes had promised him to adore the king, and 
 broke his word. In the next place, Lysimachus 
 and Agnon attacked him, and said the sophist 
 went about with as much pride as if he had 
 demolished a tyranny, and the young men fol- 
 lowed him, as the only freemen among so many 
 thousands. These things, upon the discovery 
 of Hermolaus’s plot against Alexander, gave_ an 
 air of probability to what was alleged against 
 Callisthenes. His enemies said, Hermolaus in- 
 quired of him, by what means he might become 
 the most famous man in the world, and that he 
 answered, “ By killing the most famous.”^ They 
 farther asserted, that by way of encouraging him 
 to the attempt, he bade him not be afraid of the 
 golden bed, but remember he had to do with a 
 man who had suffered both by sickness and by 
 wounds. 
 
 Neither Hermolaus, however, nor an3r of his 
 accomplices, made any mention of Callisthenes 
 amidst the extremities of torture. Nay, Alexander 
 himself, in the account he immediately gave of 
 the plot to Craterus, Attains, and Alcetas, writes, 
 that the young men, when put to the torture, 
 declared, it was entirely their own enterprise, and 
 that no man besides was privy to it. Yet after- 
 wards, in a letter to Antipater, he affirms, that 
 Callisthenes was as guilty as the rest. “The 
 Macedonians,” says he, “ have stoned the young 
 men to death. As for the sophist, I will punish 
 him myself, and those that sent him too : nor 
 shall the towns that harboured the conspirators 
 escape.” In which he plainly discovers his aver- 
 sion to Aristotle, bjr whom Callisthenes was 
 brought up as a relation ; for he was the son of 
 Hero, Aristotle’s niece. His death is variously 
 related. Some say, Alexander ordered him to be 
 hanged ; others, that he fell sick and died in 
 chains : and Chares writes, that he was kept 
 seven months in prison, in order to be tried in full 
 council in the presence of Aristotle ; but that he 
 died of excessive corpulency and the lousy 
 disease, at the time that Alexander was wounded 
 by the Malli Oxydracse in India. This happened, 
 however, at a later period than we are upon. 
 
 In the mean time, Demeratus the Corinthian, 
 though far advanced in years, was ambitious of 
 going to see Alexander. Accordingly he took the 
 voyage, and when he beheld him, he said, the 
 Greeks fell short of a great pleasure, who did not 
 live to see Alexander upon the throne of Darius. 
 But he did not live to enjoy the king’s friendship. 
 He sickened and died soon after. ^ The king, 
 however, performed his obsequies in the most 
 magnificent manner ; and the army threw up for 
 him a monument of earth of great extent, and 
 fourscore cubits high. His ashes were carried to 
 the sea-shore in a chariot and four, with the 
 richest ornaments. 
 
 When Alexander was upon the point of setting 
 out f^or India, he saw his troops were so laden 
 with spoils that they were unfit to march. There- 
 fore, early in the morning that he was to take his 
 departure, after the carriages were assembled, he 
 first set fire to his own baggage and that of his 
 
4S2 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 friends ; and then gave orders that the rest should 
 be served in the same manner. The resolution 
 appeared more difficult to take than it was to 
 execute. Few were displeased at it, and numbers 
 received it with acclamations of joy. They freely 
 gave part of their equipage to such as were in 
 need, and burned and destroyed whatever was 
 superfluous. This greatly encouraged and fortified 
 Alexander in his design. Besides, by this time 
 he was become inflexibly severe in punishing 
 offences. Menander, though one of his friends, 
 he put to death, for refusing to stay in a fortress 
 he had given him the charge of ; and one of the 
 barbarians, named Osodates, he shot dead with 
 an arrow, for the crime of rebellion. 
 
 About this time a sheep yeaned a lamb with the 
 perfect form and colour of a tiara upon its head, 
 on each side of which were testicles. Looking 
 upon the prodigy with horror, he employed the 
 Chaldaeans, who attended him for such purposes, 
 to purify him by their expiations. He told his 
 friends, on this occasion, that he was more 
 troubled on their account than his own; for he 
 was afraid that after his death fortune would 
 throw the empire into the hands of some obscure 
 and weak man. A better omen, however, soon 
 dissipated his fears. A Macedonian, named 
 Proxenus, who had the charge of the king’s 
 equipage, on opening* * the ground by the river 
 Oxus, in order to pitch his master’s tent, dis- 
 covered a spring of a gross oily liquor; which 
 after the surface was taken off, came perfectly 
 clear, and neither in taste nor smell differed from 
 real oil, nor was inferior to it in smoothness and 
 brightness, though there were no olives in that 
 country. It is said, indeed, that the water of the 
 Oxus is of so unctuous a quality, that it makes 
 the skins of those who bathe in it smooth and 
 shining, f 
 
 It appears, from a letter of Alexander’s to Anti- 
 pater, that he was greatly delighted with this 
 incident, and reckoned it one of the happiest 
 presages the gods had afforded him. The sooth- 
 sayers said, it betokened, that the expedition 
 would prove a glorious one, but at the same time 
 laborious and difficult, because heaven has given 
 men oil to refresh them after their labours. Ac- 
 cordingly he met with great dangers in the 
 battles that he fought, and received very con- 
 siderable wounds. But his army suffered most 
 by want of necessaries and by the climate. For 
 his part, he was ambitious to show that courage 
 can triumph over fortune, and magnanimity over 
 force : he thought nothing invincible to the brave, 
 or impregnable to the bold.^ Pursuant to this 
 opinion, when he besieged Sisimethres X upon a 
 
 * Strabo (lib. ii.) ascribes the same properties 
 to the ground near the river Ochus. Indeed, the 
 Ochus and the Oxus unite their streams, and 
 flow together into the Caspian sea. 
 
 t Pliny tells us, that the surface of these rivers 
 was a consistence of salt, and that the waters 
 flowed under it as under a crust of ice. The salt 
 consistence he imputes to the defluxions from the 
 neighbouring mountains, but he says nothing of 
 the unctuous quality of these waters mentioned 
 by Plutarch. N'at. Hist, lib. xxxi. 
 
 J This stronghold was situated in Bactriana. 
 Strabo says, it was fifteen furlongs high, as many 
 in compass, and that the top was a fertile plain, 
 capable of maintaining 500. It was in Bactriana 
 
 rock extremely steep and apparently inaccessible, 
 and saw his men greatly discouraged at the enter- 
 prise, he asked Oxyartes, whether Sisimethres 
 were a man of spirit. And being answered that 
 he was timorous and dastardly, he said, “ You 
 inform me the rock may be taken, since there is 
 no strength in its defender.” In fact, he found 
 means to intimidate Sisimethres, and made him- 
 self master of the fort. 
 
 In the siege of another fort, situated in a place 
 equally steep, among the young Macedonians 
 that were to give the assault there was one called 
 Alexander ; and the king took occasion to say 
 to him, “You must behave gallantly, my friend, 
 to do justice to 3^our name.” He was informed 
 afterwards that the young man fell as he was dis- 
 tinguishing himself in a glorious manner, and he 
 laid It much to heart. 
 
 When he sat down before Nysa, * the Mace- 
 donians made some difficulty of advancing to the 
 attack, on account of the depth of the river that 
 washed its walls, till Alexander said, “What a 
 wretch am I, that I did not learn to swim,” and 
 was going to ford it with his shield in his hand. 
 After the first assault, while the troops were re- 
 freshing themselves, ambassadors came with an 
 offer to capitulate ; and along with them deputies 
 from some other places. They were surprised to 
 see him in armour without any pomp or cere- 
 mony ; and their astonishment increased when 
 he bade the oldest of the ambassadors, named 
 Acuphis, take the sofa that was brought for him- 
 self. Acuphis, struck with a benignity of recep- 
 tion so far beyond his hopes, asked what they 
 must do to be admitted into his friendship. 
 Alexander answered, “ It must be on condition 
 that they appoint you their governor, and send 
 me a hundred of their best men for hostages.” 
 Acuphis smiled at this, and said, “I should 
 govern better if you would take the worst, in- 
 stead of the best.” 
 
 It is said the dominions of Taxiles, in India, f 
 were as large as Egypt : they afforded excellent 
 pasturage too, and were the most fertile in all 
 respects. As he was a man of great prudence, 
 he waited on Alexander, and after the first com- 
 pliments, thus addressed him : V What occasion 
 is there for wars between you and me, if you are 
 not come to take from us our water and other 
 necessaries of life ; the only things that reasonable 
 men will take up arms for ? As to gold and silver, 
 and other possessions, if I am richer than you, I 
 am willing to oblige you with part ; if I am poorer, 
 I have no objection to sharing in your bounty.” 
 Charmed with his frankness, Alexander took his 
 hand, and answered, “ Think you, then, with all 
 this civility, to escape without a conflict? You 
 are much deceived, if you do. I will dispute it 
 with you to the last ; but it shall be in favours 
 and benefits ; for I will not have you exceed me 
 in generosity.” Therefore, after having received 
 great presents from him, and made greater, he 
 said to him one evening, “ I drink to you, Taxiles, 
 
 that Alexander married Roxana, the daughter of 
 Oxyartes. 
 
 * Arrian calls it Nyssa; so indeed does the 
 Vulcob. MS. That historian places it near 
 Mount Meris, and adds, that it was built by 
 Dionysius, or Bacchus. Hence it had the name 
 of Dionysiopolis. It is now called Nerg. 
 t Between the Indus and the Hydaspes. 
 
ALEXANDER. 
 
 483 
 
 and as sure as you pledge me, you shall have a 
 thousand talents.” His friends were offended at 
 his giving away such immense sums, but it made 
 many of the barbarians look upon him with a 
 kinder eye. 
 
 The most warlike of the Indians used to fight 
 for pay. Upon this invasion they defended the 
 cities that hired them with great vigour, and 
 Alexander suffered by them not a little. To one 
 of the cities he granted an honourable capitulation, 
 and yet seized the mercenaries, as they were upon 
 their march homewards, and put them all to the 
 sword. This is the only blot in his military con- 
 duct ; all his other proceedings were agreeable to 
 the laws of war, and worthy of a king.* 
 
 The philosophers gave him no less trouble than 
 the^ mercenaries, by endeavouring to fix a mark 
 of infamy upon those princes that declared for 
 him, and by exciting the free nations to take up 
 arms ; for which reason he hanged many of 
 them. 
 
 As to his war with Porus, we have an account 
 of it in his own letters. According to them, the 
 river Hydaspes was between the two armies, and 
 Porus drew up his elephants on the banks opposite 
 the enemy with their heads towards the stream, 
 to guard it. Alexander caused a great noise and 
 bustle to be made every day in his camp, that 
 the barbarians, being accustomed to it, might not 
 be so ready to take the alarm. This done, he 
 took the advantage of a dark and stormy night, 
 with part of his infantry, and a select body of 
 cavalry, to gain a little island in the river, at 
 some distance from the Indians. When he was 
 there, he and his troops were attacked with a 
 most violent wind and rain, accompanied with 
 dreadful thunder and lightning. But, notwith- 
 standing this hurricane, in which he saw several 
 of his men perish by the lightning, he advanced 
 from the island to the opposite bank. The 
 Hydaspes, swollen with the rain, by its violence 
 and rapidity made a breach on that side, which 
 received water enough to form a bay, so that when 
 he came to land, he found the bank extremely 
 slippery, and the ground broken and undermined 
 by the current. On this occasion he is said to 
 have uttered that celebrated saying, “Will you 
 believe, my Athenian friends, what dangers I 
 undergo, to have you the heralds of my fame ? 
 The last particular we have from Onesicritus ; 
 but Alexander himself only says, they quitted 
 their boats, and, armed as they were, waded up 
 the beach breast high ; and that when they were 
 landed, he advanced with the horse twenty fur- 
 longs before the foot, concluding that if the enemy 
 attacked him with their cavalry, he should be 
 greatly their superior, and that if they made a 
 movement with their infantry, his would come up 
 time enough to receive them. Nor did he judge 
 amiss. The enemy detached against him 1000 
 horse and sixty armed chariots, and he defeated 
 them with ease. The chariots he took, and killed 
 
 * It was just and lawful, it seems, to go about 
 harassing and destroying those nations that had 
 never offended him, and upon which he had no 
 claim except that avowed by the northern bar- 
 barians, when they entered Italy, namely, that 
 the weak must submit to the strong ! Indeed, 
 those barbarians were much honester men, for 
 they had another and a better plea— they went to 
 seek bread. 
 
 400 of the cavalry upon the spot. By this, Porus 
 understood that Alexander himself had passed 
 the river, and therefore brought up his whole 
 army, except what appemed necessary to keep 
 the rest of the Macedonians from making good 
 their passage. Alexander, considering the force 
 of the elephants, and the enemy’s superior 
 numbers, did not choose to engage them in 
 front, but attacked the left wing himself, while 
 Coenus, according to his orders, fell upon the 
 right. Both wings being broken, retired to the 
 elephants in the centre, and rallied there. The 
 cornbat then was of a more mixed kind ; but 
 maintained with such obstinacy, that it was not 
 decided till the eighth hour of the day. This 
 description of the battle we have from the con- 
 queror himself, in one of his epistles. 
 
 Most historians agree, that Porus was four 
 cubits and a palm high, and that though the 
 elephant he rode was one of the largest, his 
 stature and bulk were such, that he appeared but 
 proportionably mounted. This elephant, during 
 the whole battle, gave extraordinary proofs of his 
 sagacity and care of the king’s person. As long 
 as that prince was able to fight, he defended him 
 with great courage, and repulsed all assailants ; 
 and when he perceived him ready to sink under 
 the multitude of darts and the wounds with 
 which he was covered, to prevent his falling 
 off, he kneeled down in the softest manner, and 
 with his proboscis gently drew every dart out of 
 his body. 
 
 When Porus was taken prisoner, Alexander 
 asked him how he desired to be treated. He 
 answered, “Like a king.” “And have you 
 nothing else to request?” replied Alexander. 
 “ No,” said he ; “ everything is comprehended in 
 the word king.” Alexander not only restored him 
 his own dominions immediately, which he was to 
 govern as his lieutenant, but added very extensive 
 territories to_ them ; for having subdued a free 
 country, which contained fifteen nations, 5000 
 considerable cities,* and villages in proportion, 
 he bestowed it on Porus. Another country, three 
 times as large, he gave to Philip, one of his 
 friends, who was also to act there as his lieu- 
 tenant. 
 
 In the battle with Porus, Bucephalus received 
 several wounds, of which he died some time after. 
 This is _ the account most writers give us : but 
 Onesicritus says, he died of age and fatigue, for 
 he was thirty years old. Alexander showed as 
 much regret as if he had lost a faithful friend and 
 companion. He esteemed him, indeed, as such ; 
 and built a city near the Hydaspes, in the place 
 where he was buried, which he called after him, 
 Bucephalia. He is also reported to have built a 
 city, and called it Peritas, in memory of a dog of 
 that name, which he had brought up and was 
 very fond of. This particular, Sotio says, he had 
 from Potamo of Lesbos. 
 
 The combat with Porus abated the spirit of the 
 jMacedonians, and made them resolve to proceed 
 
 * Some transcriber seems to have given us the 
 number of inhabitants in one city for the number 
 of cities. Arrian’s account of this: “He took 
 thirty-seven cities, the least of which contained 
 5000 inhabitants, and several of them above io,oco. 
 He took also a great number of villages not less 
 populous than the cities, and gave the govern- 
 ment of the country to Porus.” 
 
4$4 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 no farther in India. It was with difficulty they 
 had defeated an enemy who brought only 20,000 
 foot and 2000 horse into the field ; and therefore 
 they opposed Ale.xander with great firmness when 
 he insisted that they should pass the Ganges,* 
 which, they were informed, was thirty-two fur- 
 longs in breadth, and in depth 100 fathoms. The 
 opposite shore too was covered with numbers of 
 squad. ons, battalions, and elephants. For the 
 kings of the Gandarites and Praesians were said 
 to be waiting for them there, with 80,000 horse, 
 200,000 toot, 8000 chariots, and 6000 elephants 
 trained to war. Nor is this number at all magni- 
 fied : for Androcottus, who reigned not long after, 
 made Seleucus a present of 500 elephants at one 
 time,! and with an army of 600,000 men traversed 
 India, and conquered the %vhole. 
 
 Alexander s grief and indignation at this refusal 
 were such, that at first he shut himself up in his 
 tent, and lay prostrate on the ground, declaring, 
 he did not thank the JNIacedonians in the least for 
 what they had done, if they would not pass the 
 Ganges ; for he considered a retreat no other than 
 an acknowledgment that he was overcome. His 
 friends omitted nothing that might comfort him ; 
 and at last their remonstrances, together with the 
 cries and tears of the soldiers, who were suppliants 
 at his door, melted him, and prevailed on him to 
 return. However, he first contrived many vain 
 and sophistical things to serve the purposes of 
 fame ; among which were arms much bigger than 
 his men could use, and higher mangers, and 
 heavier bits than his horses required, left scat- 
 tered up and down. He built also gieat altars, 
 for which the Prsesians still retain much venera- 
 tion, and their kings cross the Ganges every year 
 to offer sacrifices in the Grecian manner upon 
 them. Androcottus, who was then very young, 
 had a sight of Alexander, and he is reported to 
 have often said afterwards, that Alexander was 
 within a little of making himself master of all the 
 country ; with such hatred and contempt was the 
 reigning prince looked upon, on account of his 
 profligacy of manners, and meanness of birth. 
 
 Alexander, in his march from thence, formed a 
 design to see the ocean ; for which purpose he 
 caused a number of row-boats and rafts to be con- 
 structed, and, upon them, fell down the rivers at 
 his leisure. Nor was the navigation unattended 
 with hostilities. He made several descents by the 
 wav, and attacked the adjacent cities, which were 
 all forced to submit to his victorious arms. How- 
 ever, he was very near being cut in pieces by the 
 Malli, who are called the most warlike people in 
 India. He had driven some of them from the 
 wall with his missive weapons, and was the first 
 man that ascended it. But presently after he was 
 up, the scaling ladder broke. Finding himself 
 and his small company much galled by the darts of 
 the barbarians from below, he poised himself, and 
 leaped down into the midst of the enemy. By 
 good fortune he lell upon his feet ; and the bar- 
 barians were so astonished at the flashing of his 
 arms as he came down, that they thought they 
 beheld lightning, or some supernatural splen- 
 
 * The Ganges is the largest of all the rivers in 
 the three continents, the Indus the second, the 
 Nile the third, and the Danube the fourth. 
 
 t Dacier says 5000, but does not mention his 
 authority. Perhaps it was only a slip in the 
 writing, or in the printing. 
 
 dour issuing from his body. At first, there- 
 fore, they drew back and dispersed. But when 
 they had recollected themselves, and saw him 
 attended only by two of his guards, they attacked 
 him hand to hand, and wounded him through his 
 armour with their s\yords and spears, notwith- 
 standing the valour with which he fought. One of 
 them standing farther off, drew an arrow with 
 such strength, that it made its way through 
 his cuirass, and entered the ribs under the breast. 
 Its force was so great, that he gave back and was 
 brought upon his knees, and the barbarian ran up 
 with his drawn scimitar to despatch him. Peuces- 
 tas and Limnseus * placed themselves before him, 
 but one was wounded and the other killed. Peu- 
 cestas, who survived, was still making some resist- 
 ance, when Alexander recovered himself and 
 laid the bai'barian at his feet. The king, however, 
 received new wounds, and at last had such a blow 
 from a bludgeon upon his neck, that he was forced 
 to support himself by the wall, and there stood 
 with his face to the enemy. The Macedonians, 
 who by this time had got in, gathered about him, 
 and carried him off to his tent. 
 
 His senses were gone, and it was the current 
 report of the army that he was dead. When they 
 had, with great difficulty sawed off the shaft, which 
 was of wood, and with equal trouble had taken 
 off the cuirass, they proceeded to extract the 
 head, which was three fingers broad, and four 
 long, and stuck fast in the bone. He fainted 
 under the operation, and was very near expiring ; 
 but when the head was got out, he came to him- 
 self. Yet, after the danger was over, he con- 
 tinued weak, and a long time confined himself to 
 a regular diet, attending solely to the cure of his 
 wound. The Macedonians could not bear to be 
 so deprived of the sight of their king ; they 
 assembled in a tumultuous manner abouFhis tent. 
 When he perceived this, he put on his robe, and 
 made his appearance ; but as soon as he had 
 sacrificed to the gods, he retired again. _ As he 
 was on his way to the place of his destination, 
 though carried in a litter by the water side, he 
 subdued a large track of land, and many respect- 
 able cities. 
 
 In the course of this expedition, he took ten of 
 the Gy 7 nnosophists,\ who had been principally 
 concerned in instigating Sabbas to revolt, and 
 had brought numberless other troubles upon the 
 Macedonians. As these ten were reckoned the 
 most acute and concise in their answers, he put 
 the most difficult questions to them that could be 
 thought of, and at the same time declared, he 
 would put the first person that answered wrong 
 to death, and after him all the rest. The oldest 
 man among them was to be judge. 
 
 He demanded of the first, “ Which were most 
 numerous, the living or the dead?" He an- 
 
 * Q. Curtius calls him T imeeus. 
 t These philosophers, so called from their 
 going - naked, were divided into two sects, the 
 Brachmani and the Germani. The Brachmani 
 were most esteemed, because there was a consist- 
 ency in their principles. Apuleius tells us, that 
 not only the scholars, but the younger pupils 
 were assembled about dinner time, and examined 
 what good they had done that day ; and such as 
 could not point out some act of humanity, or 
 useful pursuit that they had been engaged in, 
 were not allowed any dinner. 
 
ALEXANDER. 485 
 
 swered, The living ; for the dead no longer 
 exist.” * 
 
 The second was asked, “ Whether the earth or 
 the sea produced the largest animals ? ” Ke 
 answered, “ The earth ; for the sea is part of it.” 
 
 The third, “ Which is the craftiest of all 
 animals ? ” “ That, ” said he, “ with v/hich man 
 
 is not yet acquainted.”! 
 
 The fourth, “ What was his reason for per- 
 suading Sabbas to revolt?” “Because,” said 
 he, “ I wished him either to live with honour, or 
 to die as a coward deserves.” 
 
 The fifth had this question put to him, “ Which 
 do you think oldest, the day or the night ? ” He 
 answered, “ The day, by one day.” As the king 
 appeared surprised at this solution, the philo- 
 sopher told him, “Abstruse questions must have 
 abstruse answers.” 
 
 Then addressing himself to the sixth, he de- 
 manded, “ What are the best means for a man to 
 make himself loved ?” He answered, “ If pos- 
 sessed of great power, do not make yourself 
 feared.” 
 
 The seventh was asked, “ How a man might 
 become a god?” He answered, “By doing 
 what is impossible for man to do. ” 
 
 The eighth, “ Which is strongest, life or 
 death ?” “ Life, ” said he ; “ because it bears so 
 many evils.” 
 
 The last question that he put was, “ How long 
 is it good for a man to live ? ” “ As long,” 
 
 said the philosopher, “ as he does not prefer death 
 to life.” 
 
 Then turning to the judge, he ordered him to 
 give sentence. The old man said, “ In my 
 opinion they have all answered one worse than 
 another.” “If this is thy judgment,” said Alex- 
 ander, “thou shalt die first.” “ No,” replied the 
 philosopher, “not except you choose to break 
 your word : for you declared the man that 
 answered worst should first suffer.” 
 
 The king loaded them with presents, and dis- 
 missed them. After which he sent Onesicritus, a 
 disciple of Diogenes, to the other Indian sages 
 who were of most reputation, and lived a retired 
 life, to desire them to come to him. Onesicritus 
 tells us, Calanus treated him with great insolence 
 and harshness, bidding him to strip himself 
 naked, if he desired to hear any of his doctrine ; 
 “ You should not hear m.e on any other con- 
 dition,” said he, “ though you came from Jupiter 
 himself.” Dandamis behaved with more civility ; 
 and when Onesicritus had given him an account 
 of Pythagoras, Socrates, and Diogenes, he said, 
 they appeared to him to have been men of genius, 
 but to have lived with too passive a regard to 
 the laws. 
 
 Others say, Dandamis entered into no dis- 
 course with the messenger, but only asked why 
 Alexander had taken so long a journey. As to 
 Calanus, it is certain Taxiles prevailed with him 
 to go to Alexander. His true name was Sphines ; 
 but because he addressed them with the word 
 Cale., which is the Indian form of salutation, the 
 Greeks called him Calanus. This philosopher, 
 we are told, presented Alexander with a good 
 image of his empire. He laid a dry and shrivelled 
 
 hide before him, and first trod upon the edges of 
 it. This he did all round ; and as he trod on one 
 side, it started up on the other. At last, he fixed 
 his feet on the middle, and then it lay still. By 
 this emblem he showed him, that he should fix 
 his residence, and plant his principal force in the 
 heart of his empire, and not wander to the 
 extremities. 
 
 Alexander spent seven months in falling down 
 the rivers to the ocean. When he arrived there, 
 he embarked, and sailed to an island which he 
 called Scilloustis,* but others call it Psiltoucis. 
 There he landed, and sacrificed to the gods. He 
 likewise considered the nature of the sea and of 
 the coast, as far as it was accessible. And after 
 having besought Heaven that no man might ever 
 reach beyond the bounds of his expedition, he 
 prepared to set out on his way back. He ap- 
 pointed Nearchus admiral, and Onesicritus chief 
 pilot, and ordered his fleet to sail round, keeping 
 India on the right. With the rest of his forces 
 he returned by land, through the country of the 
 Orites ; in which he was reduced to such ex- 
 tremities, and lost such numbers of men, that he 
 did not bring back from India above a fourth part 
 of the army he entered it with, which was no less 
 than 120,000 foot, and 15,000 horse. Violent dis- 
 tempers, ill diet, and excessive heats, destroyed 
 multitudes ; but famine made still greater 
 ravages. For it was a barren and uncultivated 
 country ; the natives lived miserably, having 
 nothing to subsist on but a few bad sheep, which 
 used to feed on the fish thrown up by the sea ; 
 consequently they were poor, and their flesh of a 
 bad flavour. 
 
 With much difficulty he traversed this country 
 in sixty days, and then arrived in Gedrosia. 
 There he found provisions in abundance ; for 
 besides that the land is fertile in itself, the neigh- 
 bouring princes and grandees supplied him. After 
 he had given his army some time to refresh them- 
 selves, he marched in Carmania for seven days in 
 a kind of a Bacchanalian procession. His chariot, 
 which was very magnificent, was drawn by eight 
 horses. Upon it was placed^ a lofty platform, 
 where he and his principal friends revelled day 
 and night. This carriage was followed by many 
 others, some covered with rich tapestry and 
 purple hangings, and others shaded with branches 
 of trees fresh gathered and flourishing. In these 
 were the rest of the king’s friends and generals, 
 crowned with flowers, and exhilarated with wine. 
 
 In this whole company there was not to be 
 seen a buckler, a helmet, or spear ; but, instead 
 of them, cups, flagons, and goblets. These the 
 soldiers dipped in huge vessels of wine, and 
 drank to each other, some as they marched along, 
 and others seated at tables, which were placed at 
 proper distances on the way. The whole country 
 resounded with flutes, clarionets, and songs, and 
 with the dances and riotous frolics of the women. 
 This disorderly and dissolute march was closed 
 with a very immodest figure, and with all the 
 licentious ribaldry of the Bacchanals, as if Bac- 
 chus himself had been present to carry on the 
 debauch. 
 
 When Alexander arrived at the royal palace of 
 Gedrosia, he gave his army time to refresh them- 
 
 * They did not hold the mortality, but the 
 transmigration of the soul. 
 
 t This we suppose to mean man himself, as not 
 being acquainted with himself. 
 
 * Arrian calls it Cilutta. Here they first 
 observed the ebbing and flowing of the sea, 
 which surprised them not a little. 
 
PLUTARCH LIVES, 
 
 selves again, and entertained them with feasts 
 and public spectacles. At one of these, in which 
 the choruses disputed the prize of dancing, he 
 appeared inflamed with wine. His favourite 
 Bagoas happening to win it, crossed the theatre 
 in his habit of ceremony, and seated himself by 
 the king. The Macedonians expressed their 
 satisfaction with loud plaudits, and called out to 
 the king to kiss him, with which at last he com- 
 plied, 
 
 Nearchus joined him again here, and he was 
 so much delighted with the account of his voyage, 
 that he formed a design to sail in person from the 
 Euphrates with a great fleet, circle the coast of 
 Arabia and Africa, and enter the Mediterranean 
 by the Pillars of Hercules. For this purpose, he 
 constructed, at Thapsacus, a number of vessels of 
 all sorts, and collected mariners and pilots. But 
 the report of the difficulties he had^ met with in 
 his Indian expedition, particularly in his attack 
 of the Malli, his great loss of men in the country 
 of the Orites, and the supposition he would 
 never return alive from the voyage he now medi- 
 tated, excited his new subjects to revolt, and put 
 his generals and governors of provinces upon dis- 
 playing their injustice, insolence, and avarice. 
 In short, the whole empire was in commotion, 
 and ripe for rebellion. Olympias and Cleopatra, 
 leaguing against Antipater, had seized his he- 
 reditary dominions, and divided them between 
 them. Olympias took Epirus, and Cleopatra, 
 Macedonia. The tidings of which being brought 
 to Alexander, he said his mother had considered 
 right ; for the Macedonians would never bear to 
 be governed by a woman. 
 
 In consequence of this unsettled state of things, 
 he sent Nearchus again to sea, having deter- 
 mined to carry the war into the maritime pro- 
 vinces. Meantime he marched in person to chas- 
 tise his lieutenants for their misdemeanours. 
 Oxyartes, one of the sons of Abulites, he killed 
 with his own hand,- by a stroke of his javelin. 
 Abulites had laid in no provisions for him ; he 
 had only collected 3000 talents in money. Upon 
 his presenting this, Alexander bade him offer it 
 to his horses : and, as they did not touch it, he 
 said, “ Of what use will this provision now be to 
 me?” and immediately ordered Abulites to be 
 taken into custody. 
 
 The first thing he did after he entered Persia, 
 was to give this money to the matrons, according 
 to the ancient custom of the kings, who, upon 
 their return, from any excursion, to their Persian 
 dominions, used to give every woman a piece of 
 gold. For this reason, several of them, we are 
 told, made it a rule to return but seldom ; and 
 Ochus never did ; he banished himself to save his 
 money. Having found the tomb of Cyrus broke 
 open, he put the author of that sacrilege to 
 death, though a natiye of Pella, and a person of 
 some distinction. His name was_ Polymachus. 
 After he had read the epitaph, which was in the 
 Persian language, he ordered it to be inscribed 
 also in Greek. It was as follows : O man ! who- 
 soever THOU ART, AND WHENSOEVER THOU 
 COMEST (for come I KNOW THOU WILt), I AM 
 CYRUS, THE FOUNDER OF THE PERSIAN EM- 
 PIRE, ENVY ME NOT THE LITTLE EARTH THAT 
 COVERS MY BODY. Alexander was much affected 
 at these words, which placed before him in so 
 strong a light the uncertainty and vicissitude of 
 things. 
 
 It was here that Calanus, after haying been 
 disordered a little while with the cholic, desired 
 to have his funeral pile erected. He approached 
 it on horseback, offered up his prayers to heaven, 
 poured the libations upon himself, cut off part of 
 his hair,* and threw it on the fire ; and, before 
 he ascended the pile, took leave of the Macedo- 
 nians, desiring them to spend the day in jollity 
 and drinking with the king; “For I shall see 
 him,” said he, “ in a little time at Babylon.” So 
 saying he stretched himself upon the pile, and 
 covered himself up. Nor did he move at the 
 approach of the flames, but remained in the same 
 posture till he had finished his sacrifice, accord- 
 ing to the custom of the .sages of his country. 
 Many years after, another Indian did the same 
 before Augustus Cajsar at Athens, whose tomb is 
 shown to this day, and called the Indiafi’s tomh. 
 
 Alexander, as soon as he retired from the 
 funeral pile, invited his friends and oflicers to 
 supper, and, to give life to the carousal, promised 
 that the man who drank most should be crowned 
 for his victory. Promachus drank four measures 
 of wine,t and carried off the crown, which was 
 worth a talent, but survived it only three days. 
 The rest of the guests, as Chares tells us, drank 
 to such a degree, that forty-one of them lost 
 their lives, the weather coming upon them ex- 
 tremely cold during their intoxication. 
 
 When he arrived at Susa, he married his 
 friends to Persian ladies. He set them the ex- 
 ample, by taking Statira, the daughter of Darius, 
 to wife, and then distributed among his principal 
 officers the virgins of highest quality. As for 
 those Macedonians who had already married 
 in Persia, he made a general entertainment in 
 commemoration of their nuptials. It is said, that 
 no less than 9000 guests sat down, and yet he 
 presented each with a golden cup for performing 
 the libation. Everything else was conducted 
 with the utmost magnificence ; he even paid off 
 all their debts ; insomuch that the whole expense 
 amounted to 9870 talents. 
 
 An officer, who had but one eye, named Anti- 
 genes, put himself upon the list of debtors, and 
 produced a person who declared he was so much 
 in his books. Alexander paid the money ; but 
 afterwards discovering the fraud, in his_ anger 
 forbade him the court, and took away his com- 
 mission. There was no fault to be found with 
 him as a soldier. He had distinguished himself 
 in his youth under Philip, at the siege of Perin- 
 thus, where he was wounded in the eye with a 
 dart shot from one of the engines ; and yet he 
 would neither suffer it to be taken out, nor quit 
 the field, till he had repulsed the enemy, and 
 forced them to retire into the town. The poor 
 wretch could not bear the disgrace he had now 
 brought upon himself ; his grief and despair were 
 so great that it was apprehended he would put an 
 end to his own life. To prevent such a cata- 
 strophe, the king forgave him, and ordered him to 
 keep the money. 
 
 The 30,000 boys, whom he left under proper 
 masters, were now grown so much, and made so 
 handsome an appearance ; and, what was of more 
 importance, had gained such an activity and 
 
 * As some of the hair used to be cut from the 
 forehead of victims. 
 
 t About fourteen quarts. The chceus was six 
 pints nine-tenths. 
 
ALEXANDER, 487 
 
 address in their exercises, that he was greatly 
 delighted with them. But it was matter of un- 
 easiness to the Macedonians ; they were appre- 
 hensive that the king would have less regard for 
 them. Therefore, when he gave the invalids 
 their route to the sea, in order to their return, the 
 whole army considered it as an injurious and 
 oppressive measure : “ He has availed himself,” 
 said they, “ beyond all reason, of their services, and 
 now he sends them back with disgrace, and turns 
 them upon the hands of their country and their 
 parents, in a very different condition from that in 
 which he received them. Why does he not dis- 
 miss us all? Why does not he reckon all the 
 Macedonians incapable of service, now he has 
 got this body of young dancers ! Let him go 
 with them and conquer the world.” 
 
 Alexander, incensed at this mutinous behaviour, 
 loaded them with reproaches ; and ordering them 
 off, took Persians for his guards, and filled up 
 other offices with them. When they saw their 
 king with these new attendants, and themselves 
 rejected and spurned with dishonour, they were 
 greatly humbled. They lamented their fate to 
 each other, and were almost frantic with jealousy 
 and anger. At last, coming to themselves, they 
 repaired to the king’s tent, without arms, in one 
 thin garment only ; and with tears and lamenta- 
 tions delivered themselves up to his vengeance ; 
 desiring he would treat them as ungrateful men 
 deserved. 
 
 He was softened with their complaint, but 
 would not appear to hearken to them. They 
 stood two days and nights, bemoaning themselves 
 in this manner, and calling for their dear master. 
 The third day he came out to them : and when 
 he saw their forlorn condition, he wept a long 
 time. After a gentle rebuke for their mis- 
 behaviour, he condescended to converse with 
 them in a free manner ; and such as were unfit 
 for service he sent over with magnificent presents. 
 At the same time he signified his pleasure to 
 Antipater, that at all public diversions they should 
 have the most honourable seats in the theatres, 
 and wear chaplets of flowers there ; and 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 
 despatched the most urgent affairs, he employed 
 himself again in the celebration of games and 
 other public solenmities ; for which purpose 3000 
 artificers, lately arrived from Greece, were very 
 serviceable to him. But unfortunately Hephses- 
 tion fell sick of a fever in the midst of this 
 festivity. As a young man and a soldier, he 
 could not bear to be kept to strict diet ; and 
 taking the opportunity to dine when his physician 
 Glaucus was gone to the theatre, he ate a roasted 
 fowl, and drank a flagon of wine made as cold as 
 possible ; in consequence of which he grew wor.se, 
 and died a few days after. 
 
 Alexander’s grief on this occasion exceeded all 
 bounds. He immediately ordered the horses and 
 mules to be shorn, that they might have their 
 share in the mourning, and with the same view 
 pulled down the battlements of the neighbouring 
 cities. The poor physician he crucified. He 
 forbade the flute and all other music in his camp 
 for a long time. This continued till he received 
 an oracle from Jupiter Ammon, which enjoined 
 him to revere Hephsestion, and sacrifice to him 
 
 as a demi-god. After this he sought to relieve 
 his sorrow by hunting, or rather by war ; for his 
 game were men. In this expedition he conquered 
 the Cussseans, and put all that were come to years 
 of puberty to the sword. This he called a sacri- 
 fice to the muTtes of Hephaestion ! 
 
 He designed to lay out 10,000 talents upon his 
 tomb and the monumental ornaments, and that 
 the workmanship, as well as design, should exceed 
 the expense, great as it was. He therefore de- 
 sired to have Stasicrates for his architect, whose 
 genius promised a happy boldness and grandeur 
 in everything that he planned. This was the 
 man who had told him, some time before, that 
 Mount Athos in Thrace was most capable of being 
 cut into a human figure ; and that, if he had but 
 his orders, he would convert it into a statue for 
 him, the most lasting and conspicuous in the 
 world ; a statue, which should have a city with 
 10^000 inhabitants in his left hand, and a river 
 that flowed to the sea with a strong current in its 
 right. He did not, however, embrace that pro- 
 posal, though at that time he busied himself with 
 his architects in contriving and laying out even 
 more absurd and expensive designs. 
 
 As he was advancing towards Babylon, Near- 
 chus, who was returned from his expedition on 
 the ocean, and come up the Euphrates, declared, 
 he had been applied to by some Chaldaeans, who 
 were strongly of opinion that Alexander should 
 not enter Babylon. But he slighted the warning 
 and continued his march. Upon his approach to 
 the walls, he saw a great number of crows fight- 
 ing, some of which fell down dead at his feet. 
 Soon after this, being informed, that Apollodorus, 
 governor of Babylon, had sacrificed, in order to 
 consult the gods concerning him, he sent for 
 Pythagoras the diviner ; and, as he did not deny 
 the fact, asked him how the entrails of the victim 
 appeared. Pythagoras answered, the liver was 
 without a head. “ A terrible presage, indeed !” 
 said Alexander. He let Pythagoras go with im- 
 punity : but by this time he was sorry he had not 
 listened to Nearchus. He lived mostly in his 
 pavilion without the walls, and diverted himself 
 with sailing up and down the Euphrates. For 
 there had happened several other ill omens that 
 much disturbed him. One of the largest and 
 handsomest lions that were kept in Babylon, was 
 attacked and kicked to death by an ass. One 
 day he stripped for the refreshment of oil, and to 
 play at ball : after the diversion was over, the 
 young men who played with him, going to fetch 
 his clothes, beheld a man sitting in profound 
 silence on his throne, dressed in the royal robes, 
 with the diadem upon his head. They demanded 
 who he was, and it was a long time before he 
 would answer. At last, coming- to himself, he 
 said, “ My name is Dionysius, and I am a native 
 of Messene. Upon a criminal process against 
 me, I left the place, and embarked for Babylon. 
 There I have been kept a long time in chains. 
 But this day the god Serapis appeared to me, 
 and broke my chains ; after which he conducted 
 me hither, and ordered me to put on this robe 
 and diadem, and sit here in silence.” 
 
 After the man had thus explained himself, 
 Alexander, by the advice of his soothsayers, put 
 him to death. But the anguish of his mind in- 
 creased ; on one hand, he almost despaired of 
 the succours of heaven, and on the other dis- 
 trusted his friends. He w'as most afraid of 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 4SS 
 
 Antipater and his sons ; one of which, named 
 lolaus,* was his cup-bearer ; the other, named 
 Cassander, was lately arrived from Macedonia ; 
 and happening to see some barbarians prostrate 
 themselves before the king, like a man accustomed 
 only to the Grecian manners, and a stranger to 
 such a sight, he burst out into a loud laugh. 
 Alexander, enraged at the affront, seized him by 
 the hair, and with both hands dashed his head 
 against the wall. Cassander afterwards attempted 
 to vindicate his father against his accusers ; 
 which greatly irritated the king. “ What is this 
 talk of thine ? ” said he. “ Dost thou think that 
 men who had suffered no injur}^ would come so 
 far to bring a false charge ?” “ Their coming so 
 
 far,” replied Cassander, “is an argument that the 
 charge is false, because they are at a distance 
 from those who are able to contradict them.” At 
 this Alexander smiled, and said, “These are some 
 of Aristotle’s sophisms, which make equally for 
 either side of the question. But be assured I 
 will make 3"ou repent it, if these men have had 
 the least injustice done them.” 
 
 This, and other menaces, left such a terror 
 upon Cassander, and made so lasting an impres- 
 sion upon his mind, that many years after, when 
 king of Macedon, and master of all Greece, as he 
 was walking about at Delphi, and taking a view 
 of the statues, the sudden sight of that of Alex- 
 ander is said to have struck him with such horror 
 that he trembled all over, and it was with diffi- 
 culty he recovered of the giddiness it caused in 
 his brain. 
 
 When Alexander had once given himself up to 
 superstition, his mind was so preyed upon by 
 vain fears and anxieties, that he turned the least 
 incident, which was anything strange and out of 
 the way, into a sign or a prodigy. The court 
 swarmed with sacrificers, purifiers, and prognos- 
 ticators ; they were all to be seen exercising their 
 talents there. So true it is, that though the dis- 
 belief of religion, and contempt of things divine, 
 is a great evil, yet superstition is a greater. For 
 as water gains upon low grounds, so superstition 
 prevails over a dejected mind, and fills it with 
 fear and folly. This was entirely Alexander’s 
 case. However, upon the receipt of some oracles 
 concerning Hephsestion, from the god he com- 
 monly consulted, he gave a truce to his sorrows, 
 and employed himself in festive sacrifices and 
 entertainments. 
 
 One day, after he had given Nearchus a 
 sumptuous treat, he went, according to custom, to 
 refresh himself in the bath, in order to retire to 
 rest. But in the mean time Medius came and 
 invited him to take part in a carousal, and he 
 could not deny him. There he drank all that 
 night and the. next day, till at last he found a 
 fever coming upon him. It did not, however, 
 seize him as he was drinking the cup of Hercules, 
 nor did he find a sudden pain in his back, as if it 
 had been pierced with a spear. These are cir- 
 cumstances invented by writers, who thought the 
 catastrophe of so noble a tragedy should be some- 
 thing affecting and extraordinary. Aristobulus 
 tells us, that in the rage of his fever, and the 
 violence of his thirst, he took a draught of wine, 
 which threw him into a frenzy, and that he died 
 the thirteenth of the month Daesins^ lune. 
 
 * Arrian and Curtius call him lollas, Plutarch 
 calls him lolas below. 
 
 But in his journals the account of his sickness 
 is as follows : “ On the eighteenth of the month 
 Daesius, finding the fever upon him, he lay in his 
 bath-room. The next da3% after he had bathed, 
 he removed into his own chamber, and played 
 many hours with Medius at dice. In the evening 
 he bathed again, and after having sacrificed to 
 the gods, he ate his supper. In the night the 
 fever returned. The twentieth he also bathed, 
 and, after the customary sacrifice, sat in the bath- 
 room, and diverted himself with hearing Near- 
 chus tell the story pf his voyage, and all that was 
 most observable with respect to the ocean. The 
 twenty-first was spent in the same manner. The 
 fever increased, and he had a very bad night. 
 The twenty-second, the fever was violent. He 
 ordered his bed to be removed, and placed by the 
 great bath. There he talked to his generals 
 about the vacancies in his army, and desired they 
 might be filled up with experienced officers. The 
 twenty-fourth, he was much worse. He chose, 
 howevei*, to be carried to assist at the sacrifice. 
 He likewise gave orders, that the principal officers 
 of the army should wait within the court, 
 and the others keep watch all night without. The 
 twenty-fifth, he was removed to his palace, on 
 the other side of the river, where he slept a 
 little, but the fever did not abate; and when 
 his generals entered the room he was speechless. 
 He continued so the day following. The Mace- 
 donians, by this time, thinking he was dead, 
 came to the gates with great clamour, and threat- 
 ened the great officers in such a maimer, that 
 they were forced to admit them, and suffer them 
 all to pass unarmed by the bed-side. The twenty- 
 seventh, Python and Seleucus were .sent to the 
 temple of Serapis, to inquire whether they should 
 carry Alexander thither, and the deity ordered 
 that they should not remove him. The twenty- 
 eighth, in the evening, he died.” These par- 
 ticulars are taken almost word for word from his 
 diary. 
 
 There was no suspicion of poison at the time of 
 his death ; but six years after (we are told) Olym- 
 pias, upon some information, put a number of 
 people to death, and ordered the remains of lolas, 
 who was supposed to have given him the draught, 
 to be dug out of the grave. Those who say 
 Aristotle advised Antipater to such a horrid deed, 
 and furnished him with the poison he sent to 
 Babylon, allege one Agnothemis as their author, 
 who is pretended to have had the information 
 from king Antigonus. They add, that the poison 
 was a water of a cold and deadly quality,*’ which 
 distils from a rock in the territory of Nonacris ; 
 and that they receive it as they would do so 
 many dew-drops, and keep it in an ass’s hoof ; 
 its extreme coldness and acrimony being such 
 that it makes its way through all other vessels. 
 The generality, however, look upon the story of 
 the poison as a mere fable ; and they have this 
 strong argument in their favour, that though, on 
 account of the disputes which the great officers 
 were engaged in for many days, the body lay 
 unembalmed in a sultry place, it had no sign of 
 any such taint, but continued fresh and clear. 
 
 Roxana was now pregnant, and therefore had 
 great attention paid her by the Macedonians. 
 But being extremely jealous of Statira, she laid a 
 
 * Hence it was called the Stygian water. 
 Nonacris was a city of Arcadia. 
 
JULIUS 
 
 snare for her hy a forged letter, as from Alex- 
 ander ; and having by this means, got her into 
 her power, she sacrificed both her and her sister, 
 and threw their bodies into a well, which she 
 filled up with earth. Perdiccas was her accom- 
 plice in this murder. Indeed, he had now the 
 principal power, which he exercised in the name 
 of Aridseus, whom he treated rather as a screen 
 than as a king. 
 
 Aridseus was the son of Philip, by a courtesan 
 named Philinna, a woman of low birth. His 
 deficiency in understanding was the consequence 
 of a distemper, in which neither nature nor 
 accident had any share. For it is said, there was 
 something amiable and great in him when a boy ; 
 which Olympias perceiving, gave him potions 
 that disturbed his brain.* 
 
 * Portraits of the same person, taken at dif- 
 
 JULIUS 
 
 When Sylla had made himself master of Rome,f 
 he endeavoured to bring Caesar to repudiate Cor- 
 nelia, daughter to Cinna, one of the late tyrants ; 
 and finding he could not effect it either by hopes 
 or fears, f he confiscated her dowry. Indeed, 
 Caesar, as a relation to Marius, was naturally an 
 enemy to Sylla. Old Marius had married Julia, 
 Caesar’s aunt, and therefore young Marius, the 
 son he had by her, was Caesar 3 cousin german. 
 At first Sylla, amidst the vast number of pro- 
 scriptions that engaged his attention, overlooked 
 this enemy ; but Caesar, not content with escap- 
 ing so, presented himself to the people as a can- 
 didate for the priesthood, § though he was not 
 yet come to years of maturity. Sylla exerted his 
 influence against him and he miscarried. The 
 dictator afterwards thought of having him taken 
 off, and when some said, there was no need 
 to put such a boy to death, he answered that their 
 sagacity was small, if they did not in that boy 
 see many Marius’s. 
 
 This saying being reported to Caesar, he con- 
 cealed himself a long time, wandering up and 
 down in the country of the ^bines. Amidst his 
 movements from house to house he fell sick, and 
 on that account was forced to be carried in a 
 litter. The soldiers employed by Sylla to search 
 
 t Some imagine that the beginning of this life 
 is lost ; but if they look back to the introduc- 
 tion to the Life of Alexander, that notion will 
 vanish. 
 
 X Caesar would not make such a sacrifice to 
 the dictator as Piso had done, who, at his com- 
 mand, divorced his wife Annia. Pompey, too, 
 for the sake of Sylla’s alliance, repudiated An- 
 tistia. 
 
 § Caesar had the priesthood before Sylla was 
 dictator. In the seventeenth year of his age, he 
 broke his engagement to Cossutia, though she 
 was of a consular and opulent family, and 
 married^ Cornelia, the daughter of Cinna, by 
 whose interest, and that of Marius, he was 
 created Fla7tien Dialis, or Priest of Jupiter. 
 Sylla, when absolute master of Rome, insisted on 
 his divorcing Cornelia, and, upon his refusal, de- 
 prived him of that office. Sueton. in JtcHo. 
 
 CMSAR. 489 
 
 ferent periods of life, though they differ greatly 
 from each other, retain a re.semblance upon the 
 whole. And so it is in general with the charac- 
 ters of men. But Alexander seems to be an 
 exception ; for nothing can admit of greater dis- 
 similarity than that which entered into his dis- 
 position at different times, and in different circum- 
 stances. He was brave and pusillanimous, 
 merciful and cruel, modest and vain, abstemious 
 and luxurious, rational and superstitious, polite 
 and overbearing, politic and imprudent. Nor 
 were these changes casual or temporary . the 
 style of his character underwent a total revolu- 
 tion, and he passed from virtue tp vice in a regular 
 and progressive manner. Munificence and pride 
 were the only characteristics that never forsook 
 him. If there were any vice of which he was 
 incapable, it was avarice ; if any virtue, it was 
 humility. 
 
 C^SAR. 
 
 those parts, and drag the proscribed persons from 
 their retreats, one night fell in with him ; put 
 Cornelius, who commanded there, was prevailed 
 on by a bribe of two talents to let him go. 
 
 He then hastened to sea, arid sailed to Bithy- 
 nia, where he sought protection of Nicomedes 
 the king. His stay, however, with him was not 
 long. He re-embarked, and was taken near the 
 isle of Pharmacusa, by pirates, who were masters 
 of that sea, and blocked up all the passages with 
 a number of galleys and other vessels. They 
 asked him only twenty talents for his ransom. 
 He laughed at their demand, as the-consequence 
 of their not knowing him, and promised fhem 
 fifty talents. To raise the money he despatched 
 his people to different cities, and in the mean 
 time remained with only one friend and two 
 attendants among these Cilicians, who considered 
 murder as a trifle. Cscsar, however, held them 
 in great contempt, and used to send, whenever 
 he went to sleep, and order them to keep silence. 
 Thus he lived among them thirty-eight days, as 
 if they had been his guards, rather than his 
 keepers. Perfectly fearless and secure, he joined 
 in their diversions, and took his exercises among 
 them. He wrote poems and orations, and re- 
 hearsed them to the pirates ; and when they ex- 
 pressed no admiration, he called them dunces 
 and barbarians. Nay, he often threatened to 
 crucify them. They were delighted with these 
 freedoms, which they imputed to his frank and 
 facetious vein. But as soon as the money was 
 brought from Miletus, and he had recovered his 
 liberty, he manned some vessels in the port of 
 Miletus, II in order to attack these corsairs. He 
 found them still lying at anchor by the island, 
 took most of them, together with the money, and 
 imprisoned them at Pergamus. After which, he 
 applied to Junius who then commanded in Asia, 
 because to him, as praetor, it belonged to punish 
 them. Junius having an eye upon the money, 
 which was a considerable sum, demurred about 
 the matter ; and Caesar, perceiving his intention, 
 returned to Pergamus, and crucified all the pri- 
 
 ll Dacier reads Melos, which was one of the 
 Cyclades, but does not mention his authority. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 490 
 
 soners, as he had often tlireatened to do at Phar- 
 macusa, when they took him to be in jest. 
 
 \Vhen the power of Sylla came to be upon the 
 decline, Caesar’s friends pressed him to return to 
 Rome. But first he went to Rhodes, to study 
 under Apollonius, the son of Molo,* who taught 
 rhetoric there with great reputation, and was a 
 man of irreproachable manners. Cicero also was 
 one of his scholai's. Caesar is said to have had 
 happy talents from nature for a public speaker, 
 and he did not want an ambition to cultivate 
 them ; so that undoubtedly he was the second 
 orator in Rome ; and he might have been the 
 first, had he not rather chosen the pre-eminence 
 in arms. Thus^ he never rose to that pitch of 
 eloquence to which his power would have brought 
 him, being engaged in those wars and political 
 intrigues which at last gained him the empire. 
 Hence it was, that afterwards, in his Anticato, 
 which he wrote in answer to a book of Cicero’s, 
 he desired his readers not to expect in the per- 
 formance of a military man the style of a com- 
 plete orator, who had bestowed all his time upon 
 such studies. 
 
 Upon his return to Rome, he impeached Dola- 
 bella for misdemeanours in his government, and 
 many cities of Greece supported the charge by 
 their evidence. Dolabella was acquitted. Caesar, 
 however, in acknowledgment of the readiness 
 Greece had shown to serve him, assisted her in 
 her prosecution of Publius Antonius for corrup- 
 tion. The cause was brought before Marcus 
 Lucullus, praetor of Macedonia ; and Caesar 
 pleaded it in so powerful a manner, that the 
 defendant was forced to appeal to the tribunes of 
 the people ; alleging, that he was not upon equal 
 terms with the Greeks in Greece. 
 
 The eloquence he showed at Rome in defend- 
 ing persons impeached, gained him a considerable 
 interest, and his engaging address and conversa- 
 tion carried the hearts of the people. For he 
 had a condescension not to be expected from so 
 
 * It should be Apollonius Molo^ not Apollo- 
 nius the son of Molo. According to Suetonius, 
 Caesar had studied under him at Rome before this 
 adventure of the pirates. Thus far Dacier and 
 Ruauld ; and other critics say the same. Yet 
 Strabo ( 1 . xiy. pp. 665, 660, 661) tells us, Molo 
 and Apollonius were two dilferent men. He 
 affirms that they were both natives of Alabanda, 
 a city of Caria ; that they were both scholars of 
 Menacles the Alabandian ; and that they both 
 professed the same art at Rhodes, though Molo 
 went thither later than Apollonius. Cicero like- 
 wise seems to distinguish them, calling the one 
 Molo, and the other Apollonius the Alabandian, 
 especially in his first book De Oratore^ where he 
 introduces M. Antonius speaking of him thus : 
 “For this one thing I always liked Apollonius 
 the Alabandian ; though he taught for money, 
 he did not suffer any whom he thought incapable 
 of making a figure as orators to lose their time 
 and labour with him, but sent them home, ex- 
 horting them to apply themselves to that art for 
 which they were, in his opinion, best qualified,” 
 
 To solve this difficulty, we are willing to sup- 
 pose, with Ruauld, that there were two Molos, 
 contemporaries : for the testimonies of Suetonius 
 (in Csesare, c. 4) and of Quintilian (Institut. 1 . 
 xu. c. 6) that Caesar and Cicero we re pupils to 
 Apollonius Molo, can never be overruled. 
 
 young a man. At the same time, the freedom 
 of his table and the magnificence of his expense 
 gradually increased his power, and brought him 
 into the administration. Those who envied him, 
 imagined that his resources would soon fail, and 
 therefore, at first, made light of his popularity, 
 considerable as it was. But when it was grown 
 to such a height that it was scarce possible to 
 demolish it, and had a plain tendency to the ruin 
 of the constitution, they found out, when it was 
 too late, that no beginnings -of things, however 
 small, are to be neglected ; because continuance 
 makes them great ; and the very contempt they 
 are held in gives them opportunity to gain that 
 strength which cannot be resisted. 
 
 Cicero seems to be the first who suspected 
 something formidable from the flattering calm of 
 Caesar’s political conduct, and saw deep and 
 dangerous designs under the smiles of his be- 
 nignity “I perceive,” said the orator, “an 
 inclination for tyranny in all he projects and 
 executes ; but on the other hand, when I see him 
 adjusting his hair with so much exactness, and 
 scratching his head with one finger, I can hardly 
 think that such a man can conceive so vast and 
 fatal a design as the destruction of the Roman 
 commonwealth.” This, however, was an observa- 
 tion made at a much later period than that we are 
 upon. 
 
 The first proof he had of the affection of the 
 people was when he obtained a tribuneship in the 
 army before his competitor Caius Popilius. The 
 second was more remarkable ; it was on occasion 
 of his pronouncing from the rostrum the funeral 
 oration of his aunt Julia, the wife of Marius, in 
 which he failed not to do justice to her virtue. 
 At the same time he had the hardiness to produce 
 the images of Marius, which had not been seen 
 before during Sylla’s administration ; Marius and 
 all his adherents having been declared enemies 
 to the state. _ Upon this some began to raise a 
 clamour against Csesar ; but they were soon 
 silenced by the acclamations and plaudits of the 
 people, expressing their admiration of his courage 
 in bringing the honours of Marius again to light, 
 after so long a suppression, and raising them, as 
 it were, from the shades below. 
 
 It had long been the custom in Rome, for the 
 aged women to have funeral panegyrics, but not 
 the young. Csesar first broke through it, by pro- 
 nouncing one for his own wife, who died in her 
 prime. This contributed to fix him in the affec- 
 tions of the people : they sympathized with him, 
 and considered him as a man of great good nature, 
 and one who had the social duties at heart. 
 
 After the funeral of his wife, he went out qusestor 
 into Spain with* Antistius Veter the prastor, 
 whom he honoured all his life after ; and when 
 he came to be prator himself, he acknowledged 
 the favour by taking Veter’s son for his qusestor. 
 When that commission was expired, he took 
 Pompeia to his third wife; having a daughter 
 by his first wife Cornelia, whom he afterwards 
 married to Pompey the Great. 
 
 Many people, who observed his prodigious 
 expense, thought he was purchasing a short 
 transient honour very dear, but, in fact, he was 
 gaining the greatest things he could aspire to, 
 at a small price. He is said to have been 
 1300 talents in debt before he got any public 
 
 * See Veil. Paterculus, ii. 43. 
 
JULIUS C^SAR. 
 
 491 
 
 employment. When he had the superintendence 
 of the Appian Road, he laid out a great deal of 
 his own money ; and when sedile, he not only 
 exhibited 320 pair of gladiators, but in the other 
 diversions of the theatre, in the processions and 
 public tables, he far outshone the most ambitious 
 that had gone before him. These things attached 
 the people to him so strongly that every one sought 
 for new honours and employments, to recompense 
 his generosity. 
 
 There were two factions in the state ; that of 
 Sylla, which was the strongest ; and that of 
 Marius, which was in a broken and low condition. 
 Caesar’s study was to raise and revive the latter. 
 In pursuance of which intention, when his ex- 
 hibitions, as aedile, were in the highest reputation, 
 he caused new images of Marius to be privately 
 made, together with a representation of _ his 
 victories adorned with trophies, and one night 
 placed them in the Capitol. Next morning these 
 figures were seen glistering with gold, of the most 
 exquisite workmanship, and bearing inscriptions 
 which declared them the achievements of Marius 
 against the Cimbri. The spectators were aston- 
 ished at the boldness of the man who erected 
 them ; nor was it difficult to know who he was. 
 The report spread with the utmost rapidity, and 
 the whole city assembled to see them. Some ex- 
 claimed, that Csesar plainly affected the tyranny, 
 by openly producing those honours which the 
 laws had condemned to darkness and oblivion. 
 This, they said, was done to make a trial of the 
 people, whom he had prepared by his caresses, 
 whether they would suffer themselves to be en- 
 tirely caught by his venal benefactions, and let 
 him play upon them and make what innovations 
 he pleased. On the other hand, the partisans of 
 Marius encouraging each other, ran to the Capitol 
 in vast numbers, and made it echo with their 
 plaudits. Some of them even wept for joy at the 
 sight of Marius’s countenance. They bestowed 
 the highest encomiums upon Caesar, and declared 
 he was the only relation worthy of that great 
 man. 
 
 The senate was assembled on the occasion, and 
 Lutatius Catulus, a man of the greatest reputation 
 in Rome, rose and accused Caesar. In his speech 
 against him was this memorable expression, “You 
 no longer attack the commonwealth by mines, 
 but by open battery.” Csesar, however, defended 
 his cause so well that the senate gave it for him : 
 and his admirers, still more elated, desired him 
 to keep up a spirit of enterprise, for he might 
 gain everything with the consent of the people, 
 and easily become the first man in Rome. 
 
 Anridst these transactions, died Metellus, the 
 principal pontiff. The office was solicited by 
 Isauricus and Catulus, two of the most illustrious 
 men in Rome, and of the greatest interest in the 
 senate. Nevertheless, Caesar did not give place 
 to them, but presented himself to the people as a 
 candidate. The pretensions and prospects of the 
 competitors seemed almost equal, and Catulus, 
 more uneasy than the others under the uncertainty 
 of success, on account of his superior dignity, sent 
 privately to Caesar, and offered him large sums, 
 on condition that he would desist from his high 
 pursuit. But he answered, he would rather borrow 
 still larger sunvs to carry his election. 
 
 When the day of election came, Caesar’s mother 
 attending him to the door, with her eyes bathed 
 in tears, he embraced her and said, “ My dear 
 
 mother, you will see me this day either chief 
 pontiff or an exile.” There never was anything 
 more strongly contested ; the suffrages, however, 
 gave it for Caesar. The senate, and others of the 
 principal citizens, were greatly alarmed at this 
 success ; they apprehended that he would now 
 push the people into all manner of licentiousness 
 and misrule. Therefore, Piso and Catulus blamed 
 Cicero much for sparing Caesar, when Catiline’s 
 conspiracy gave him an opportunity to take him 
 off. Catiline, whose intention was not so much 
 to make alterations in the constitution, as entirely 
 to subvert it, and throw all into confusion, upon 
 some slight suspicions appearing against him, 
 quitted Rome before the whole was unravelled ; 
 but he left behind him Lentulus and Cethegus to 
 conduct the conspiracy within the city. 
 
 Whether Caesar privately encouraged and sup- 
 ported them, is uncertain ; what is universally 
 agreed upon, is this : The guilt of those two 
 conspirators clearly appearing, Cicero, as consul, 
 took the sense of the senators as to the punish- 
 ment that should be inflicted upon them ; and 
 they all gave it for death, till it came to Caesar’s 
 turn, who, in a studied speech, represented, that 
 it seemed neither agreeable to justice, nor to the 
 customs of their country, to put men of their 
 birth and dignity to death, without an open trial, 
 except in case of extreme necessity. But that 
 they should rather be kept in prison, in any of 
 the cities of Italy that Cicero might pitch upon, 
 till Catiline was subdued ; and then the senate 
 might take cognizance of the crimes of each con- 
 spira.tor in full peace, and at their leisure. 
 
 . As there appeared something humane in this 
 opinion, and it was powerfully enforced by the 
 orator, those who gave their voices afterwards, 
 and even many who had declared for the other 
 side of the question, came into it. But Cato and 
 Catulus carried it for death. Cato, in a severe 
 speech against the opinion of Csesar, scrupled not 
 to declare his suspicions of him ; and this with 
 other arguments, had so much weight that the 
 two conspirators were delivered to the execu- 
 tioner. Nay, as Caesar was going out of the 
 senate house, several of the young men, who 
 guarded Cicero’s person, ran upon him with their 
 drawn swords ; but we are told that Curio 
 covered him with his gown, and so carried him 
 off ; and that Cicero himself, when the young 
 men looked at him for a nod of consent, refused 
 it, either out of fear of the people, or because he 
 thought the killing him unjust and unlawful. If 
 this was true, I know not why Cicero did not 
 mention it in the history of his consulship. He 
 was blamed, however, afterwards, for not avail- 
 ing himself of so good an opportunity as he then 
 had, and for being influenced by his fears of the 
 people, who were indeed strongly attached to 
 Csesar : for, a few days after, when Caesar entered 
 the senate, and endeavoured to clear himself of the 
 suspicions he lay under, his defence was received 
 with indignation and loud reproaches ; and as 
 they sat longer than usual, the people beset the 
 house, and with violent outcries demanded Caesar, 
 absolutely insisting on his being dismissed. 
 
 Cato, therefore, fearing an insurrection of the 
 indigent populace, who were foremost in all sedi- 
 tions, and who had fixed their hopes upon Caesar, 
 persuaded the senate to order a distribution of 
 bread-corn among them every month, which 
 addiJtl 5,500,000 drachinas to the yearly expense 
 
492 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 of the state.* This expedient certainly obviated 
 the present danger, by seasonably reducing the 
 power of Caesar, who was now praetor elect, and 
 more formidable on that account. 
 
 Caesar’s praetorship was not productive of any 
 trouble to the commonwealth, but that year there 
 happened a disagreeable event in his own family. 
 There was a young patrician, named Publius 
 Clodius, of great fortune and distinguished elo- 
 quence, but at the same time one of the foremost 
 among the vicious and the profligate. This man 
 entertained a passion for Pompeia, Caesar’s wife, 
 nor did she discountenance it. But the women’s 
 apartment was so narrowly observed, and all the 
 steps of Pompeia so much attended to by Aurelia, 
 Caesar’s mother, who was a woman of great virtue 
 and prudence, that it was difficult and hazardous 
 for them to have an interview. 
 
 Among the goddesses the Romans worship, 
 there is one they call the good goddess, 
 
 as the Greeks have one they call Gyncecea, the 
 patroness of the women. The Phrygians claim 
 her as the mother of their king Midas ; the 
 Romans say, she was a Dryad, and wife of 
 Faunus ; and the Greeks assure us, she is that 
 mother of Bacchus, whose name is not to be 
 uttered. For this reason, the women, when they 
 keep her festival, cover their tents with vine 
 branches ; and, according to the fable, a sacred 
 dragon lies at the feet of the goddess. No man 
 is allowed to be present, nor even to be in the 
 house, at the celebration of her orgies. Many of 
 the ceremonies the women then perform by them- 
 selves are said to be like those in the feasts of 
 Orpheus. 
 
 When the anniversa^ of the festival comes, the 
 consul or praetor (for it is at the house of one of 
 them it is kept) goes out, and not a male is left in 
 it. The wife, now having the house to herself, 
 decorates it in a proper manner ; the mysteries 
 are performed in the night ; and the whole is 
 spent in music and play. Pompeia this year was 
 the directress of the feast. Clodius, who was yet 
 a beardless youth, thought he might pass in 
 women’s apparel undiscovered, and having taken 
 the garb and instruments of a female musician, 
 perfectly resembled one. He found the door 
 open, and was safely introduced by a maid 
 servant who knew the affair. She ran before to 
 tell Pompeia : and as .she stayed a considerable 
 time, Clodius durst not remain where she left 
 him, but wandering about the great house, en- 
 deavoured to avoid the lights. At last, Aurelia’s 
 woman fell in with him, and supposing she spoke 
 to a woman, challenged him to play. Upon his 
 refusing it, she drew him into the midst of the 
 room, and asked him who he was, and whence he 
 came. He said he waited for Abra, Pompeia’s 
 maid, for that was her name. His voice imme- 
 diately detected him ; Aurelia’s woman ran up to 
 the lights and the company, crying out she had 
 found a man in the house. The thing struck 
 them all with terror and astonishment. Aurelia 
 put a stop to the ceremonies, and covered up 
 the symbols of their mysterious worship. She 
 ordered the doors to be made fast, and with 
 lighted torches hunted up and down for the man. 
 
 At length Clodius was found, lurking in the 
 chamber of the maid-servant who had introduced 
 him. The women knew him, and turned him 
 
 * But this distribution did not continue long. 
 
 out of the house; after which they went home 
 immediately, though it was yet night, and in- 
 formed their husbands of what had happened. 
 
 Next morning the report of the sacrilegious 
 attempt spread through all Rome, and nothing 
 was talked of but that Clodius ought to make 
 satisfaction with his life to the family he had 
 offended, as well as to the city and to the gods. 
 One of the tribunes impeached him of impiety ; 
 and the principal senators strengthened the 
 charge, by accusing him, to his face, of many 
 villainous debaucheries, and among the rest, of 
 incest with his own sister, the wife of Lucullus. 
 On the other hand, the people exerted themselves 
 with equal vigour in his defence, and the great 
 influence the fear of them had upon his judges 
 was of much service to his cause. Csesar im- 
 mediately divorced Pompeia ; yet, when called 
 as an evidence on the trial, he declared he knew 
 nothing of what was alleged against Clodius. 
 As this declaration appeared somewhat strange, 
 the accuser demanded, why, if that was the case, 
 he had divorced his wife : “ Because, ” said he, 
 “ I would have the chastity of my wife clear even 
 of suspicion.” Some say Caesar’s evidence was 
 according to his conscience ; others, that he gave 
 it to oblige the people, who were set upon saving 
 Clodius. Be that as it might, Clodius came off 
 clear : most of the judges having confounded the 
 letters upon the tablets, that they might neither 
 expose themselves to the resentment of the ple- 
 beians, if they condemned him, nor lose their 
 credit with the patricians, if they acquitted him. 
 
 The government of Spain was allotted Csesar 
 after his praetorship.* But his circumstances 
 were so indifferent, and his creditors so clamorous 
 and troublesome when he was preparing for his 
 departure, that he was forced to apply to Crassus, 
 the richest man in Rome, who st ood in need of 
 Caesar’s warmth and vigour to keep up the balance 
 against Pompey. Crassus, therefore, took upon 
 him to answer the most inexorable of his creditors, 
 and engaged for 830 talents ; which procured him 
 liberty to set out for his province. 
 
 It is said, that when he came to a little town, in 
 passing the Alps, his friends, by way of mirth, 
 took occasion to say, Can there here be any 
 disputes for offices, any contentions for pre- 
 cedency, or such envy and ambition as we see 
 among the great ? ” To which Caesar answered, 
 with great seriousness, “ I assure you, I had 
 rather be the first man here, than the second man 
 in Rome.” 
 
 In like manner we are told, that when he was 
 in Spain, he bestowed some leisure hours on 
 reading part of the history of Alexander, and 
 was so much affected with it, that he sat pensive 
 a long time, and at last burst out into tears. As 
 his friends were wondering what might be thv^ 
 reason, he said, “ Do you think I have not suffi- 
 cient cause for concern, when Alexander at my 
 age reigned over so many conquered countries, 
 and I have not one glorious achievement to 
 boast ? ” 
 
 From this principle it was, that immediately 
 upon his arrival in Spain he applied to business 
 with great diligence, and having added ten new- 
 
 * It was the government of the farther Spain 
 only that fell to his lot. This province compre- 
 hended Lusitania and Bsetica ; that is, Portugal 
 and Andalusia. 
 
JULIUS CMSAR. 493 
 
 raised cohorts to the twenty he received there, he 
 marched against the Callaecians and Lusitanians, 
 defeated them, and penetrated to the ocean, 
 reducing nations by the way that had not felt the 
 Roman yoke. His conduct in peace was not 
 inferior to that in the war ; he restored harmony 
 among the cities, and removed the occasions of 
 quarrel between debtors and creditors. For he 
 ordered that the creditor should have two-thirds 
 of the debtor’s income, and the debtor the re- 
 maining third, till the whole was paid. By these 
 means he left the province with great reputation, 
 though he had filled his own coffers, and enriched 
 his soldiers with booty, who, upon one of his vic- 
 tories, saluted him Imperator. 
 
 At his return he found himself under a trouble- 
 some dilemma : those that solicit a triumph being 
 obliged to remain without the walls, and such as 
 sue for the consulship, to make their personal 
 appearance in Rome. As these were things that 
 he could not reconcile, and his arrival happened 
 at the time of the election of consuls, he applied 
 to the senate for permission to stand candidate, 
 though absent, and offer his service by his friends. 
 Cato strongly opposed his request, insisting on 
 the prohibition by law ; and when he saw iium 
 bers influenced by Csesar, he attempted to pre- 
 vent his success by gaining time ; with which 
 view he spun out the debate till it was too late to 
 conclude upon anything that day. Csesar then 
 determined to give up the triumph, and solicit 
 the consulship. 
 
 As soon as he had entered the city, he went to 
 work upon an expedient which deceived all the 
 world except Cato. It was the reconciling of 
 Pompey and Crassus, two of the most powerful 
 men in Rome. By making them friends, Csesar 
 secured the interest of both to himself, and while 
 he seemed to be only doing an office of humanity, 
 he was undermining the constitution. For it was 
 not, what most people imagine, the disagTeement 
 between Csesar and Pompey that produced the 
 civil wars, but rather their union : they first com- 
 bined to ruin the authority of the senate, and 
 when that was effected, they parted to pursue 
 each his own designs. Cato, who often pro- 
 phesied whatwould be the consequence, was then 
 looked upon as a troublesome and over-busy 
 man ; afterwards he was esteemed a wise, though 
 not a fortunate counsellor. 
 
 Meantime Csesar walked to the place of elec- 
 tion between Crassus and Pompey ; and, under 
 the auspices of their friendship, was declared 
 consul, with distinguished honour, having Cal- 
 purnius Bibulus given him for his colleague. He 
 had no sooner entered upon his office than he 
 proposed laws not so suitable to a consul as to a 
 seditious tribune ; I mean the bills for a division 
 of lands and a distribution of corn, which were 
 entirely calculated to please the plebeians. As 
 the virtuous and patriotic part of the senate 
 opposed them, he was furnished with the pretext 
 he had long wanted : he protested with great 
 warmth that they threw him into the arms of the 
 people against his will, and that the rigorous and 
 disgraceful opposition of the senate, laid him 
 under the disagreeable necessity of seeking pro- 
 tection from the commons. Accordingly he did 
 immediately apply to them. 
 
 Crassus planted himself on one side of him, 
 and Pompey on the other. He demanded of 
 them aloud, whether they approved his laws. 
 
 and, as they answered in the affirmative, he 
 desired their assistance against those who threat- 
 ened to oppose them with the sword. They 
 declared they would assist him ; and Pompey 
 added, “Against those who come with the sword, 
 
 I will bring both sword and buckler.” This 
 expression gave the patricians great pain : it 
 appeared not only unworthy of his character, the 
 respect the senate had for him, and the rever- 
 ence due to them, but even desperate and frantic. 
 The people, however, were pleased with it. 
 
 Csesar was willing to avail himself still farther 
 of Pompey’s interest. His daughter Julia was 
 betrothed to Servilius Csepio, but, notwithstand- 
 ing that engagement, he gave her to Pompey ; 
 and told Servilius he should have Pompey’s 
 daughter, whose hand was not properly at liberty, 
 for she was promised to Faustus, the son of Sylla. 
 Soon after this, Caesar married Calpurnia, the 
 daughter of Piso, and procured the consulship of 
 Piso for the year ensuing. Meanwhile Cato ex- 
 claimed loudly against these proceedings, and 
 called both gods and men to witness, how insup- 
 portable it was, that the first dignities of the 
 state should be prostituted by marriages, and 
 that this traffic of women should gain them what 
 governments and forces they pleased. 
 
 As for Bibulus, Csesar’s colleague, when he 
 found his oppositioif to their new laws entirely 
 unsuccessful, and that his life, as well as Cato’s, 
 was often endangered in the public assemblies, 
 he shut himself up in his own house during the 
 remainder of the year. _ 
 
 Immediately after this marriage, Pompey filled 
 the forum with armed men, and got the laws 
 enacted which Caesar had proposed merely to 
 ingratiate himself with the people. At the same 
 time the government of Gaul, both on this and 
 the other side the Alps, was decreed to Caesar for 
 five years ; to which was added Illyricum, with 
 four legions. As Cato spoke against these regu- 
 lations, Caesar ordered him to be taken into cus- 
 tody, imagining he would appeal to the tribunes. 
 But when he saw him going to prison without 
 speaking one word, and observed that it not only 
 gave the nobility great uneasiness, but that the 
 people, out of reverence for Cato’s virtue, fol- 
 lowed him in melancholy silence, he whispered 
 one of the tribunes to take him out of the lictor's 
 hands. 
 
 Very few of the body of senators followed 
 Caesar on this occasion to the house. The 
 greatest part, offended at such acts of tyranny, 
 had withdrawn. Considius, one of the oldest 
 senators that attended, taking occasion to ob- 
 serve that it was the soldiers and naked swords 
 that kept the rest from assembling, Caesar said, 
 “Why does not fear keep you at home too?” 
 Considius replied, “ Old age is my defence ; the 
 small remains of my life deserve not much care 
 or precaution.” 
 
 The most disgraceful step, however, that Caesar 
 took in his whole consulship, was the getting 
 Clodius elected tribune of the people ; the same 
 who had attempted to dishonour his bed, and 
 had profaned the mysterious rites of the Good 
 Goddess. He pitched upon him to ruin Cicero ; 
 nor would he set out for his government before 
 he had embroiled them, and procured Cicero’s 
 banishment. For history informs us, that all 
 these transactions preceded his wars in Gaul. 
 
 1 The wars he conducted there, and the many 
 
494 
 
 PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 glorious campaigns in which he reduced that 
 country, represent him as another man : we 
 begin, as it were, with a new life, and have to 
 follow him in a quite different track. As a 
 warrior and a general, we behold him not in the 
 least inferior to the greatest and most admired 
 commanders the world ever produced. For 
 whether we compare him with the Fabii, the 
 Scipios, and Motelli, with the generals of his own 
 time, or those who flourished a little before him, 
 with Sylla, Marius, the two Luculli, or with 
 Pompey himself, M^hose fame in every military 
 excellence reached the skies, Caesar's achieve- 
 ments bear away the palm. One he surpassed in 
 the difficulty of the scene of action, another in 
 the extent of the countries he subdued ; this, 
 in the number and strength of the enemies he 
 overcame, that, in the savage manners and 
 treacherous disposition of the people he human- 
 ized ; one in mildness and clemency to his 
 prisoners, another, in bounty and munificence to 
 his troops ; and all, in the number of battles that 
 he won, and enemies that he killed. For in less 
 than ten years’ war in Gaul, he took 800 cities by 
 assault, conquered 300 nations, and fought 
 pitched battles at different times with 3,000,000 
 of men, 1,000,000 of which he cut in pieces, and 
 made another 1,000,000 prisoners. 
 
 Such, moreover, was the affection of his 
 soldiers, and their attachment to his person, that 
 they who under other commanders were nothing 
 above the common rate of men, became invincible 
 where Caesar’s glory was concerned, and met the 
 most dreadful dangers with a courage that no- 
 thing could resist. To give three or four 
 instances : 
 
 Acilius, in a sea-fight near Marseilles, after he 
 had boarded one of the enemy’s ships, had his 
 right hand cut off with a sword, yet he still held 
 his buckler in his left, and pushed it in the 
 enemy’s faces, till he defeated them, and took 
 the vessel. 
 
 Cassius Scseva, in the battle of Dyrrhachium, 
 after he had an eye shot out with an arrow, his 
 shoulder wounded with one javelin, his thigh run 
 through with another, and had received 130 darts 
 upon his shield,* called out to the enemy, as if 
 he would surrender himself. Upon this, two of 
 them came up to him, and he gave one of them 
 such a stroke upon the shoulder with his sword, 
 that the arm dropped off ; the other he wounded 
 in the face, and made him retire. His comrades 
 then came up to his assistance, and he saved his 
 life. 
 
 In Britain, some of the vanguard happened to 
 be entangled in a deep morass, and were there 
 attacked _ by the enemy, when a private soldier, 
 in the sight of Caesar, threw himself into the 
 midst of the assailants, and, after prodigious 
 e.xertions of valour, beat off the barbarians, and 
 rescued the men. After which, the soldier, with 
 much difficulty, partly by swimming, partly by 
 wading, passed the morass, but in the passage 
 lost his shield. Caesar, and those about him, 
 
 * Caesar (Bell. Civ. 1 . iii.) says, this brave 
 soldier received 230 darts upon his shield, and 
 adds, that he rewarded his bravery with 200,000 
 sesterces, and promoted him from the eighth rank 
 to the first. He likewise ordered the soldiers of 
 that cohort double pay, beside other military 
 rewards. 
 
 astonished at the action, ran to meet him with 
 acclamations of joy; but the soldier, in great 
 distress, threw himself at Caesar’s feet, and, with 
 tears in his eyes, begged pardon for the loss of 
 his shield. 
 
 In Africa, Scipio having taken one of Ctesar’s 
 ships, on board of which was Granius Petronius, 
 lately appointed quaestor, put the rest to the 
 sword, _ but told the quaestor he gave him his life. 
 Petronius answered, “It is not the custom of 
 Caesar’s soldiers to take, but to give quarter,” 
 and inimediately plunged his sword in his breast. 
 
 This courage, and this great ambition, were 
 cultivated and cherished, in the first place, by 
 the generous manner in which Caesar rewarded 
 his troops, and the honours which he paid them : 
 for his whole conduct showed, that he did not 
 accumulate riches in the course of his wars, to 
 niinister to luxury, or to serve any pleasures of 
 his own I but that he laid them up in a common 
 bank, as prizes to be obtained by distinguished 
 valour, and that he considered himself no farther 
 rich than as he was in a condition to do justice to 
 the rnerit of his soldiers. Another thing that 
 contributed to make them invincible was their 
 seeing Csesar always take his share in danger, 
 and never desire any exemption from labour and 
 fatigue. 
 
 As for his exposing his person to danger, they 
 were not surprised at it, because they knew his 
 passion for glory ; but they were astonished at 
 his patience under toil, so far in all appearance 
 above his bodily powers. For he was of a 
 slender make, fair, of a delicate constitution, 
 and subject to violent headaches and epileptic 
 fits. He had the first attack of the falling sick- 
 ness at Corduba. He did not, however, make 
 these disorders a pretence for indulging himself. 
 On the contrary, he sought in war a remedy for 
 liis infirmities, endeavouring to strengthen his 
 constitution by long marches, by simple diet, by 
 seldom coming under covert. Thus he contended 
 with his distemper, and fortified himself against 
 its attacks. 
 
 ^ When he slept, it was commonly upon a march, 
 either in a chariot or a litter, that rest might be 
 no hindrance to business. In the daytime he 
 visited the castles, cities, and fortified camps, 
 with a servant at his side, whom he employed, 
 on such occasions, to write for him, and with a 
 soldier behind, who carried his sword. By these 
 means he travelled so fast, and with so little 
 interruption, as to reach the Rhone in eight days 
 after his first setting out for those parts from 
 Rome. 
 
 He was a good horseman in his early years, 
 and brought that exercise to such perfection by 
 practice, that he could sit a horse at full speed 
 with his hands behind him. In this expedition 
 he also accustomed himself to dictate letters as 
 he rode on horseback, and found sufficient 
 employment for^ two secretaries at once, or, ac- 
 cording to Oppius, for more. It is also said, 
 that Caesar was the first who contrived to com- 
 municate his thoughts by letter to his friends, 
 who were in the same city with him, when any 
 urgent affair required it, and the multitude of 
 business or great extent of the city did not admit 
 of an interview. 
 
 ^ Of his indifference with respect to diet they 
 give us this remarkable proof. Happening to 
 sup with Valerius Leo, a friend of his at Milan, 
 
JULIUS 
 
 there was sweet ointment poured upon the 
 asparagus, instead of oil. Caesar ate of it freely, 
 notwithstanding, and afterwards rebuked his 
 friends for expressing their dislike of it. ‘‘ It 
 was enough,” said he, to forbear eating, if it 
 was disagreeable to you. He who finds fault 
 with any rusticity, is himself a rustic.” 
 
 One day, as he was upon an excursion, a 
 violent storm forced him to seek shelter in a poor 
 man’s hut, where there was only one room, and 
 that scarce big enough for a man to sleep in. 
 Turning, therefore, to his friends, he said, 
 “ Honours for the great, and necessaries for the 
 infirm,” and immediately gave up the room to 
 Oppius, while himself and the rest of the com- 
 pany slept under a shed at the door. 
 
 His first expedition in Gaul was against the 
 Helvetians and the Tigurini ; who, after having 
 burned twelve of their own towns and 400 vil- 
 lages, put themselves under march, in order to 
 penetrate into Italy, through that part of Gaul 
 which was subject to the Romans, as the Cimbri 
 and Teutones would have done before them. 
 Nor were these new adventurers inferior to the 
 other in courage; and in numbers they were 
 equal ; being in all 300,000, of which igo,ooo 
 were fighting men. Csesar sent his lieutenant, 
 Labienus, against the Tigurini, who routed them 
 near the river Arar.* But the Helvetians sud- 
 denly attacked Caesar, as he was upon the march 
 to a confederate town.f He gained, however, a 
 strong post for his troops, notwithstanding the 
 surprise ; and when he had drawn them up, his 
 horse was brought him. Upon which he said, 
 “When I have won the battle I shall want my 
 horse for the pursuit ; at present, let us march 
 as we are against the enemy.” Accordingly he 
 charged them with great vigour on foot.f 
 
 It cost him a long and severe conflict to drive 
 their army out of the field ; but he found the 
 greatest difficulty when he came to their rampart 
 of carriages ; for not only the men made a most 
 obstinate stand there, but the very women and 
 children fought till they were cut in pieces; 
 insomuch that the battle did not end before mid- 
 night. 
 
 To this great action he added a still greater. 
 He collected the barbarians who had escaped 
 out of the battle, to the number of 100,000, and 
 upwards, and obliged them to resettle in the 
 country they had relinquished, and to rebuild 
 the cities they had burned. This he did, in fear 
 that if the country were left without inhabi- 
 tants, the Germans would pass the Rhine, and 
 seize it. 
 
 His second war was in defence of the Gauls 
 against the Germans, § though he had before 
 
 ♦ Csesar says himself, that he left Labienus to 
 guard the works he had raised from the lake of 
 Geneva to Mount Jura, and that he marched in 
 person, at the head of three legions, to attack 
 the Tigurini in their passage over the Arar, now 
 the Saone, and killed great numbers of them. 
 
 t Bibracte, now Autun. 
 
 X He sent back his horse, and the rest fol- 
 lowed his example. This he did to prevent all 
 hopes of a retreat, as well as to show his troops 
 that he would take his share in all the danger. 
 Fzde Bell. Gall. lib. i. 
 
 § The iEdui implored his protection against 
 Ariovistus, king of the Germans, who, taking 
 
 C^SAR. 495 
 
 honoured their king Ariovistils with the title of 
 an ally of Rome. They proved insupportable 
 neighbours to those he had subdued, and it was 
 easy to see, that instead of being satisfied with' 
 their present acquisitions, if opportunity offered, 
 they would extend their conquests over all 
 Gaul. He found, however, his officers, par- 
 ticularly those of the young nobility, afraid of 
 this expedition ; for they had entered into 
 Csesar’s service only _ in the_ hopes of living 
 luxuriously and making their fortunes. He 
 therefore called them together, and told them, 
 before the whole army, that they were at liberty 
 to retire, and needed not hazard their persons 
 against their inclination, since they were so 
 unmanl}’’ and spiritless. For his part, he would 
 march with the tenth legion only against those 
 barbarians ; for they were neither better men 
 than the Cimbrians, nor was he a worse general 
 than Marius. Upon this, the tenth legion de- 
 puted some of their corps to thank him. The 
 other legions laid the whole blame upon their 
 officers, and all followed him with great spirit 
 and alacrity. After a march of several days, 
 they encamped within 200 furlongs of the enemy. 
 
 ^ Csesar’s arrival broke the confidence of Ario- 
 vistus. Instead of expecting that, the Romans 
 would come and attack him, he had supposed 
 they would not dare to stand the Germans when 
 they went in quest of them. He was much sur- 
 prised, therefore, at this bold attempt of Csesar, 
 and, what was worse, he saw his own troops 
 were disheartened. They were dispirited still 
 more by the prophecies of their matrons, who 
 had the care of divining, and used to do it by 
 the eddies of rivers, the windings, the murmurs, 
 or other noise made by the stream. On this 
 occasion, they charged the army not to give 
 battle before the new moon appeared. 
 
 Csesar having got information of these matters, 
 and seeing the Germans lie close in their camp, 
 thought it better to engage them while thus 
 dejected, than to sit still and wait their time. 
 For this reason he attacked their entrenchments 
 and the hills upon which they were posted ; 
 which provoked them to such a degree, that 
 they descended in great fury to the plain. They 
 fought, and were entirely routed. Csesar pur- 
 sued them to the Rhine, which was 300 furlongs 
 from the field of battle, covering all the way 
 with dead bodies and spoils. Ariovistus reached 
 the river time enough to get over with a few 
 troops. The number of killed is said to have 
 amounted to 80,000. 
 
 After he had thus terminated the war, he left 
 his army in winter quarters in the country of 
 the Sequani, and repaired to Gaul, on this side 
 the Po, which was part of his province, in order 
 to have an eye upon the transactions in Rome. 
 For the river Rubicon parts the rest of Italy 
 from Cisalpine Gaul. During his stay there he 
 carried on a variety of state intrigues. Great 
 numbers came from Rome to pay their respects 
 
 advantage of the difference which had long sub- 
 sisted between them and the Arverni, had joined 
 the latter, made himself master of great part of 
 the country of the Sequani, and obliged the 
 iFdui to give him their children as hostages. 
 I'he iFdui were the people of Autun ; the 
 Arverni of Auvergne ; and the Sequani of 
 Franche Comte. C.<es. Bell. Gall. lib. i. 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIFTS, 
 
 49 ^ 
 
 to him, and he. sent them all away satisfied : 
 some laden with presents, and others happy m 
 hope. In the same manner throughout all his 
 wars, without Pompey’s observing it, he was 
 conquering his enemies by the arms of the 
 Roman citizens, and gaining the citizens by the 
 money of his enemies. -d i 
 
 As soon as he had intelligence that the Belgs^ 
 who were the most powerful people in Gaul, and 
 whose territories made up a third part of the 
 whole country, had revolted and assembled^ a 
 crreat army, he marched to that quarter with 
 incredible expedition. He found them ra.vaging 
 the lands of those Gauls who were allies of 
 Rome, defeated the main body, which made but 
 a feeble resistance, and killed such numbers, 
 that lakes and rivers were filled with the dead, 
 and bridges were formed of their bodies. Such 
 of the insurgents as dwelt ppon the sea coast, 
 surrendered without opposition. 
 
 From thence he led his army against the 
 Nervii,* who live among thick woods. After 
 they had secured their families and most va.luable 
 <roods, in the best manner they could, m the 
 heart of a large forest, at a great distance from 
 the enemy, they marched, to the number^ oi 
 6o ooo, and fell upon Csesar, as he was fortifying 
 his camp, and had not the least notion of such 
 an attack.! They first routed his cavalry,_and 
 then surrounded the twelfth and seventh legions, 
 and killed all the officers. Had not Caesar 
 snatched a buckler from one of his own nien, 
 forced his way through the combatants beffire 
 him, and rushed upon the barbarians , or had 
 not the tenth legion, seeing his danger, run from 
 the heights where they were posted, and mowed 
 down the enemy’s ranks, in all probability not 
 one Roman would have survived the battle. 
 But though encouraged by this bold act ot 
 Caesar, they fought with a spirit above their 
 
 Their country is now called Hainault and 
 Cambresis. 
 
 t As this attack was unexpected, Caesar dad, 
 in a manner, everything to do at the same 
 instant. The banner wa.s to be erected, the 
 charge sounded, the soldiers at a distance re- 
 called, the army drawn up, and the signal given. 
 In this surprise he ran from place to place, ex- 
 horting his men to remember their former valour ; 
 and having drawn them up in the best manner 
 he could, caused the signal to be given. The 
 legionaries made a vigorous resistance ; but as 
 the enemy seemed determined either to conquer 
 or die, the success was different in different 
 places. In the left wing the ninth and the tenth 
 legions did wonders, drove the Atrebates into a 
 neighbouring river, and made a great slaughter 
 of them. In another place the eighth and 
 eleventh legions repulsed the Vermandui, and 
 drove them before them. But in the right wing 
 the seventh and twelfth legions suffered 
 tremely. They were entirely surrounded by the 
 Nervii, all the centurions of the fourth cohort 
 being slain, and most of the other officers 
 wounded. In this extremity, Csesar snatched a 
 buckler from one of the private men, put hiinself 
 at the head of his broken wing, and being joined 
 by the two legions which he had left to guard 
 the baggage, fell upon the Nervii, already 
 fatigued, with fresh vigour, and made a dreadful 
 havoc of them. 
 
 strength, they w'ere not able to make the Nervii 
 turn their backs. Those brave men maintained 
 their ground, and were hewed to pieces upon the 
 spot. It is said that out of 60,000 not above 500 
 were saved, and out of 4^^° Nervian senators not 
 above three. . 
 
 Upon the news of this great victory, the senate 
 of Rome decreed that sacrifices should be offered, 
 and all manner of festivities kept up, for fifteen 
 days together, which was a longer terin of re- 
 joicing than had ever been known before. Indeed, 
 the danger appeared very great, on ac^unt of so 
 many nations rising at once ; and as Csesar was 
 the man who surmounted it, the affection the 
 people had for him made the rejoicing more 
 brilliant. After he had settled the affairs of Gaul, 
 on the other side the Alps, he crossed them again, 
 and wintered near the Po, in order to maintain 
 his interest in Rome ; where the candidates for 
 the great offices of state were supplied with 
 money out of his funds to corrupt the_ peopl^ 
 and after they had carried their election, did 
 everything to extend his power. Nay, the 
 greatest and most illustrious personages went to 
 pay their court to him at Lucca, among whoin 
 were Pompey, Crassus, Appius, governor of 
 Sardinia, and Nepos, proconsul in Spam. So 
 that there were 120 lictors attending their masters, 
 and above 200 senators honoured him with their 
 assiduities. After they had fixed upon a plan of 
 business, they parted. Pompey and Crassus 
 were to be consuls the year ensuing, and to get 
 Caesar’s government prolonged for five years 
 more, with supplies out of the treasury for his 
 occasions. The last particular appeared extremely 
 absurd to all men of sense. They who received 
 so much of Caesar’s money, persuaded the senate 
 to give him money, as if he was in want of it , or 
 rather, they insisted it should be done, and 
 honest man sighed inwardly while he suflfercd the 
 decree to pass. Cato, indeed, was absent, having 
 been sent with a commission to Cyprus on 
 pose that he might be out of the way. But 
 Favonius, who trod in Cato’s steps, vigorously 
 opposed those measures ; and when he fouiffi that 
 his opposition availed nothing, he left the house, 
 and applied to the people, exclaiming against 
 such pernicious counsels. No one, Imwever, 
 attended to him ; some being overawed by Pom- 
 pev and Crassus, and others influenced by regard 
 for Csesar, in whose smile alone they lived and 
 all their hopes flourished. _ • ^ r a 
 
 Csesar at his return to his army in Gaul, lound 
 another furious war lighted up in the country ; 
 the Usipetes and the Teuchteri,^ two great 
 
 * The people of the March and of Westphalia, 
 and those of Munster and Cleves. 
 
 This war happened under the consulship ot 
 Crassus and Pompey, which was in the year 
 of Rome 693. But there were several inter- 
 mediate transactions of great importance, which 
 Plutarch has omitted, viz. The reduction of the 
 Advatici by Csesar ; of seven other natmns by 
 P. Crassus, the son of the triumvir ; offers of 
 submission from several nations^ beyond the 
 Rhine ; the attempt upon Galba in his winter^ 
 quarters at Octodurus, and his brave defence and 
 victory ; the severe chastisement of the Veneti, 
 who had revolted ; and the complete reduction of 
 Aquitaine. These particulars are contained m 
 
JULIUS CALSAR, 497 
 
 Germaii natJons, having crossed the Rhine to 
 make conquests. The account of the affair with 
 them we shall take from Cssar s own Commen- 
 taries. These barbarians sent deputies to him to 
 propose a suspension of arms, which was granted 
 them. Nevertheless they attacked him as he was 
 making an excursion. With only 8oo horse, 
 however, who were not prepared for an engage- 
 ment, he beat their cavalry, which consisted of 
 5000. Next day they sent other deputies to 
 apologize for what had happened, but without 
 any other intention than that of deceiving him 
 again. These agents of theirs he detained, and 
 marched immediately against them; thinking it 
 absurd to stand upon honour with such perfidious 
 men, who had not scrupled to violate the truce. 
 Yet Canusius writes, that w'hen the senate were 
 voting a public thanksgiving and processions on 
 account of the victory, CatQoroposed that Caesar 
 should be delivered up to the barbarians, to ex- 
 piate that breach of faith, and make the divine 
 vengeance fall upon its author rather than upon 
 Rome. 
 
 Of the barbarians that had passed the Rhine, 
 there were 400,000 killed. The few who escaped, 
 repassed the river, and were sheltered by a people 
 of Germany called Sicambri. Caesar laid hold on 
 this pretence against that people, but his true 
 motive was an avidity of fame, to be the first 
 Roman that ever crossed the Rhine in a hostile 
 manner. In pursuance of his design, he threw a 
 bridge over it, though it was remarkably wide in 
 that place, and at the same time so rough and 
 rapid, that it carried down with it trunks of trees, 
 and other timber, which much shocked and 
 w'eakened the pillars of his bridge. But he drove 
 great piles of w'ood into the bottom of the river 
 above the bridge, both to resist the impression of 
 such bodies, and to break the force of the torrent. 
 By these means he exhibited a spectacle astonish- 
 ing to thought, so immense a bridge finished in 
 ten days. His army passed over it without oppo- 
 sition, the Suevi and the Sicambri, the most 
 warlike nations in Germany, having retired into 
 the heart of their forests, and concealed them- 
 selves in cavities overhung wnth wood. He laid 
 waste the enemy’s country with fire, and con- 
 firmed the better disposed Germans in tie interest 
 of Rome ; * after which he returned into Gaul, 
 having spent no more than eighteen days in 
 Germany. 
 
 But his expedition into Britain discovered the 
 most daring spirit of enterprise. For he was the 
 first who entered the western ocean w’ith a fleet, 
 and embarking his troops on the Atlantic, carried 
 w'ar into an island whose very existence was 
 doubted. Some writers had represented it so 
 incredibly large that others contested its being, 
 and considered both the name and the thing as a 
 fiction. Yet Caesar attempted to conquer it, and 
 to extend the Roman empire beyond the bounds 
 of the habitable world. He sailed thither twice 
 from the opposite coast in Gaul, and fought many 
 battles, by which the Britons suflfered more than 
 the Romans gained ; for there was nothing worth 
 taking from a people who were so poor, and lived 
 in so much wretchedness, t He did not, however. 
 
 terminate the war in the manner he could have 
 wished : he only received hostages of the king, 
 and appointed the tribute the island v/as to pay, 
 and then returned to Gaul. 
 
 There he received letters, which were going to 
 be sent over to him, and by which his friends in 
 Rome informed him, that his daughter, the wife 
 of Pompey, had lately died in childbed. This 
 was a great affliction both to Pompey and Caesar. 
 Their friends, too, were very sensibly concerned 
 to see that alliance dissolved which kept up the 
 peace and harmony of the state, otherwise in a 
 very unsettled condition. For the child survived 
 the mother only a few days. The people took 
 the body of Julia, and carried it, notwithstanding 
 the prohibition of the tribunes, to the Campus 
 Martins, where it was interred. 
 
 As Caesar’s army was now very large,* he was 
 forced to divide it for the convenience of winter- 
 quarters ; after which he took the road to Italy, 
 according to custom. But he had not been long 
 gone, before the Gauls rising again, traversed 
 the country with considerable armies, fell upon 
 the Roman quarters with great fury, amd insulted 
 their entrenchments. The most numerous and 
 the strongest body of the insurgents was that 
 under Ambiorix, who attacked Cotta andTiturius 
 in their camp, and cut them off with their whole 
 party. After which, he went and besieged the 
 legion under the command of Q. Cicero, with 
 60,000 men ; and though the spirit of those brave 
 Romans made a resistance above their strength, 
 they were very near being taken, for they were 
 all wounded. 
 
 Caesar, who was at a great distance, at last 
 getting intelligence of their danger, returned with 
 all expedition ; and having collected a body of 
 men, which did not exceed 7000, hastened to the 
 relief of Cicero. The Gauls, who were not 
 ignorant of his motions, raised the siege, and 
 went to meet him ; for they despised the small- 
 ness of his force, and were confident of \actory. 
 Caesar to deceive them, made a feint as if he fled, 
 till he came to a place convenient for a small 
 aimy to engage a great one, and there he forti- 
 fied his camp. He gave his men strict orders 
 not to fight, but to throw up a strong rampart, 
 and to barricade their gates in the securest 
 manner ; contriving by all these manoeuvres to 
 increase the enem/s contempt of him. It suc- 
 ceeded as he wished ; the Gauls came up with 
 great insolence and disorder to attack his 
 trenches. Then Csssar making a sudden sally, 
 defeated and destroyed the greatest part of them. 
 This success laid the spirit of revolt in those 
 parts ; and for farther security he remained all 
 the winter in Gaul, visiting all the quarters, and 
 keeping a sharp eye upon every motion towards 
 
 in Britain in Caesar’s time ; for the inhabitants, 
 he says, lived chiefly on milk and flesh. Lacte et 
 carjie vivunt. 
 
 * This army consisted of eight legions ; and as 
 there was almost a famine in the country, the 
 consequence of excessive drought, Caesar was 
 obliged to separate his troops for their better 
 subsistence. He was therefore under the necessity 
 of fixing the quarters at such a distance, which 
 would otherwise have been impolitic. He tells 
 us (lib. V.) that all the legions, except one, which 
 was in a quiet country, were posted within the 
 compass of 100 miles. 
 
 part of the second and the whole third book of 
 the War in Gaul. 
 
 ♦ The Ubii, the i>eople of Cologne, 
 t It does not appear that there was much com 
 
49S 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 war. I’osiJos, lie received a reinforcement of 
 tiiree legions in the room of those he had lost ; 
 two of which were lent him by Pompey, and one 
 lately raised in Cisalpine Gaul. 
 
 After this,* * * § * the seeds of hostilities, which had 
 long before been privately scattered in the more 
 distant parts of the country, by the chiefs of the 
 more warlike nations, shot up into one of the 
 greatest and most dangerous wars that was ever 
 seen in Gaul ; whether we consider the number 
 of troops and store of arms, the treasures amassed 
 for the war, or the strength of the towns and 
 fastnesses they occupied. Besides, it was then 
 the most severe season of the year ; the rivers 
 were covered with ice, the forests with snow, and 
 the fields overllowed in such a manner that they 
 looked like so many ponds ; the roads lay con- 
 cealed in snow ; or in floods disembogued by the 
 lakes and rivers. So that it seemed impossible 
 for Caesar to march, or to pursue any other opera- 
 tions against them. 
 
 hlany nations had entered into the league; the 
 principal of which were the Arverni f and Car- 
 nutes.t The chief direction of the war was given 
 to Vercingetorix, whose father the Gauls had put 
 to death, for attempting at monarchy. Vercin- 
 getorix having divided his forces into several 
 parts, and given them in charge to his lieutenants, 
 had the country at command as far as the Arar. 
 His intention was to raise all Gaul against 
 Csesar, now when his enemies were rising against 
 him at Rome. But had he stayed a little longer 
 till Csesar was actually engaged in the civil war, 
 the terrors of the Gauls would not have been less 
 dreadful to Italy now, than those of the Cimbria 
 were formerl3^ 
 
 Csesar, who knew perfectly how to avail him- 
 self of every advantage in war, particularly of 
 time, was no sooner informed of this great defec- 
 tion, than he set out to chastise its authors ; and 
 by the swiftness of his march, in spite of all the 
 difficulties of a severe winter, he showed the bar- 
 barians that his troops could neither be conquered 
 nor resisted. For where a courier could scarce 
 have been supposed to come in many days, Csesar 
 was seen with his whole army, ravaging the 
 country, destroying the castles, _ storming the 
 cities, and receiving the submission of such as 
 repented. Thus he went on, till the Edui § also 
 revolted, who had styled themselves brothers to 
 the Romans, and had been treated with particu- 
 lar regard. Their joining the insurgents spread 
 uneasiness and dismay throughout Caesar’s army. 
 He, therefore, decamped in all haste, and tra- 
 versed the country of the Lingones, || in order to 
 come into that of the Sequani, ^ who were fast 
 
 * Plutarch passes over the whole sixth book of 
 Caesar’s Commentaries, as he had done the third. 
 INIany considerable events happened between the 
 victory last mentioned, and the affair with Ver- 
 cingetorix ; such as the defeat of the Treviri, 
 Caesar’s second passage over the Rhine, and the 
 pursuit of Ambiorix. 
 
 t The people of Arvergne, particularly those 
 of Clermont and St. Flour. 
 
 t The people of Chartres and Orleans. 
 
 § The people of Autun, Lyons, Macon, Chalons 
 upon Sone, and Nevers. 
 
 II The district of Langres. 
 
 TT The district of Besancon; 
 
 friends, and nearer to Italy than the rest of the 
 Gauls. 
 
 The enemy followed him thither in prodigious 
 numbers, and surrounded him. Caesar, without 
 bein^ in the least disconcerted, sustained the 
 conflict, and after a long and bloody action, in 
 which the Germans were particularly serviceable 
 to him, gave them a total defeat. But he seems 
 to have received some check at first, for the Ar- 
 verni still show a sword suspended in one of their 
 temples, which they declare was taken from 
 Caesar. His friends pointed it out to him after- 
 wards, but he only laughed ; and when they were 
 for having it taken down, he would not suffer it, 
 because he considered it as a thing consecrated 
 to the gods. 
 
 Most of those who escaped out of the battle, 
 retired into Alesia * with their king. Caesar im- 
 mediately invested the town, though it appeared 
 impregnable, as well on account of the height of 
 the walls, as the number of troops there \vas to 
 defend it. During the siege he found himself 
 e.xposed to a danger from without, which makes 
 imagination giddy to think on. All the bravest 
 men in Gaul assembled from every quarter, and 
 came armed to the relief of the place, to the 
 number of 300,000 ; and there were not less than 
 70,000 combatants within the walls. Thus shut 
 up between two armies, he was forced to draw 
 two lines of circumvallation, the interior one 
 against the town, and that without against the 
 troops that came to its succour ; for, could the 
 two armies have joined, he had. been absolutely 
 lost. This dangerous action at Alesia contri- 
 buted to Csesar’s x*enown on many accounts. In- 
 deed, he exerted a more adventurous courage 
 and greater generalship than on any other occa- 
 sion. But what seems very astonishing, is, that 
 he could engage and conquer so many myriads 
 without, and keep the action a secret to the 
 troops in the town.f It is still more wonderful 
 that the Romans, who were left before the walls, 
 should not know it, till the victory was announced 
 by the cries of the men in Alesia and the lamen- 
 tations of the women, who saw the Romans on 
 each side of the town bringing to their camp a 
 number of shields adorned with gold and silver, 
 helmets stained with blood, drinking vessels, and 
 tents of the Gaulish fashion. Thus did this vast 
 multitude vanish and disappear^ like _a phantom, 
 or a dream, the greatest part being killed on the 
 spot. 
 
 The besieged, after having given both them- 
 selves and Csesar much trouble, at last surren- 
 dered. Their general, Vercingetorix, armed 
 himself and equipped his horse in the most mag- 
 nificent manner, and then sallied out at the gate. 
 After he had taken some circuits about Csesar as 
 he sat upon the tribunal, he dismounted, put off 
 his armour, and placed himself at Csesar’s feet, 
 where he remained in profound silence, till Csesar 
 ordered a guard to take him away, and keep him 
 for his triumph. 
 
 Csesar had been some time resolved to rum 
 Pompey, and Pompey to destroy Csesar. For 
 Crassus, who alone could have taken up the 
 conqueror, being killed in the Parthian war, there 
 
 * Csesar calls it Alexia, now Alise, near Fla- 
 vigny. 
 
 t Csesar says, that those in the town had a 
 distinct view of the battle. 
 
JULIUS C^SAR. 
 
 499 
 
 remained nothing for Caesar to do, to make him- 
 self the greatest of mankind, but to annihilate 
 him that was so ; nor for Pompey to prevent it, 
 but to take oflf the man he feared. It is true, it 
 was no long time that Pompey had entertained 
 any fear of him ; he had rather looked upon him 
 with contempt, imagining he could as easily pull 
 him down as he had set him up : whereas Caesar, 
 from the first, designing to ruin his rivals, had 
 retired at a distance, like a champion, for exer- 
 cise. By long service and great achievements in 
 the wars of Gaul, he had so improved his army, 
 and his own reputation too, that he was considered 
 as on a footing with Pompey ; and he found pre- 
 tences for carrying his enterprise into execution, 
 in the times of the misgovernment at Rome. 
 These were partly furnished by Pompey himself : 
 and indeed all ranks of men were so corrupted 
 that tables were publicly set out, upon which the 
 candidates for offices were professedly ready to 
 pay the people the price of their votes ; and the 
 people came not only to give their voices for the 
 man who had bought them, but with all manner 
 of offensive weapons to fight for him. Hence it 
 often happened that they did not part without 
 polluting the tribunal with blood and murder, 
 and the city was a perpetual scene of anarchy. 
 In this dismal situation of things, in these storms 
 of epidemic madness, wise men thought it would 
 be happy if they ended in nothing worse than 
 monarchy. Nay, there were many who scrupled 
 not to declare publicly, that monarchy was the 
 only cure for the desperate disorders of the state, 
 and that the physician ought to be pitched upon, 
 who would apply that remedy with the gentlest 
 hand : by which they hinted at Pompey. 
 
 Pompey, in all his discourse, pretended to de- 
 cline the honour of a dictatorship, though at the 
 same time every step he took was directed that 
 way. Cato, understanding his drift, persuaded the 
 senate to declare him sole consul ; that, satisfied, 
 with a kind of monarchy more agreeable to law, 
 he might not adopt any violent measures to make 
 himself dictator. The senate not only agreed to 
 this, but continued to him his governments _ of 
 Spain and Africa, the administration of which 
 he committed to his lieutenants ; keeping armies 
 there, for whose maintenance he was allowed 
 looo talents a year out of the public treasury. 
 
 Upon this, Csesar applied, by his friends, for 
 another consulship, and for the continuance of 
 his commission in Gaul, answerable to that of 
 Pompey. As Pompey was at first silent, Mar- 
 cellus and Lentulus, who hated Csesar on other 
 accounts, opposed it with great violence, omitting 
 nothing, whether right or wrong, that might re- 
 flect dishonour upon him. For they disfranchised 
 the inhabitants of Novocomum in Gaul, which 
 had lately been erected into a colony by Csesar ; 
 and Marcellus, then consul, caused one of their 
 senators, who was come with some complaints to 
 Rome, to be beaten with rods, and telling him 
 the marks on his back were so many additional 
 proofs that he was not a Roman citizen, bade him 
 go show them to Csesar. 
 
 But after the consulship of Marcellus, Csesar 
 opened the treasures he had amassed in Gaul, to 
 all that were concerned in the administration, 
 and satisfied their utmost wishes ; he paid off the 
 vast debts of Curio the tribune ; he presented the 
 consul Paulus with 1500 talents, which he em- 
 ployed in building the celebrated public hall near 
 
 the foruniy in the place where that of Fulvius 
 had stood. Pompey, now alarmed at the increase 
 of Csesar’s faction, openly exerted his own interest, 
 and that of his friends, to procure an order for a 
 successor to Csesar in Gaul. He also sent to 
 demand the troops he had lent him, for his wars 
 in that country, and Csesar returned them with a 
 gratuity of 250 drachmas to each man. 
 
 Those who conducted these troops back, spread 
 reports among the people which were neither 
 favourable nor fair with respect to Csesar, and 
 which ruined Pompey with vain hopes. They 
 asserted that Pompey had the hearts of all Csesar’s 
 army, and that if envy and a corrupt administra- 
 tion hindered him from gaining what he desired 
 at Rome, the forces in Gaul were at his service, 
 and would declare for him immediately upon their 
 entering Italy ; so obnoxious was Csesar become, 
 by hurrying them perpetually from one expedi- 
 tion to another, and by the suspicions they had 
 of his aiming at absolute power. 
 
 Pompey was so much elated with these assur- 
 ances that he neglected to levy troops, as if he 
 had nothing to fear, and opposed his enemy only 
 with speeches and decrees, which Csesar made 
 no account of. Nay, we are told, that a centurion 
 whom Csesar had sent to Rome, waiting at the 
 door of the senate-house for the result of the 
 deliberations, and being informed that the^ senate 
 would not give Csesar a longer term in his com- 
 mission, laid his hand upon his sword, and said, 
 “ But this shall give it.” 
 
 Indeed, Csesar’s requisitions had a great ap- 
 pearance of justice and honour. He proposed to 
 lay down his arms, on condition Pompey would 
 do the same, and that they should both, as private 
 citizens, leave it to their country to reward their 
 services : for to deprive him of his comsnission 
 and troops, and continue Pompey’s, w^s to give 
 absolute power to the one, to which the-jothcr" 
 was unjustly accused of aspiring. Curio, who 
 made these propositions to the people in behalf 
 of Csesar, was received with the loudest plaudits ; 
 and there were some who even threw chaplets of 
 flowers upon him, as they would upon a champion 
 victorious in the ring. 
 
 Antony, one of the tribunes of the people, then 
 produced a letter from Csesar to the same purport, 
 and caused it to be read, notwithstanding the 
 opposition it met with from the consuls. Here- 
 upon, Scipio, Pompey’s father-in-law, proposed 
 in the senate, that if Csesar did not lay down his 
 arms by such a day, he should be declared an 
 enemy to the state ; and the consuls putting it to 
 the question, whether Pompey should dismiss his 
 forces, and again, whether Csesar should disband 
 his, few of the members were for the first, and 
 almost all for the second.* After which Antony 
 put the question, whether both should lay down 
 their commissions, and all with one voice an- 
 swered in the affirmative. But the violent rage of 
 Scipio, and the clamours of the consul Lentulus, 
 who cried out, that not decrees but arms should 
 be employed against a public robber, made the 
 senate break up ; and on account of the unhappy 
 
 * Dio says there was not a man for the first 
 question, whereas the whole house was for the 
 second, except Caelius and Curio. Nor is this to 
 be wondered at ; Pompey was then at the gates 
 of Rome with his army. 
 
500 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 dissension, all ranks of people put on black, as in 
 a time of public mourning. 
 
 Soon after this, other letters arrived from Csesar 
 with more moderate proposals. He offered to 
 abandon all the rest, provided they would con- 
 tinue to him the government of Cisalpine Gaul 
 and Illyricum, with two legions, till he could 
 apply for a second consulship. And Cicero, who 
 was lately returned from Cilicia, and very desirous 
 of effecting a reconciliation, used all possible 
 means to soften Pompey. Pompey agreed to all 
 but the article of the two legions ; and Cicero 
 I endeavoured to accommodate the matter, by per- 
 ^ suading Caesar’s friends to be satisfied with the 
 ; two provinces and 6000 soldiers only. Pompey 
 was on the point of accepting the compromise, 
 when Lentulus the consul, rejecting it with dis- 
 dain, treated Antony and Curio with great in- 
 dignity, and drove them out of the senate-house. 
 Tmjs he furnished Caesar with the most plausible 
 argument imaginable, and he failed not to make 
 use of it to exasperate his troops, by showing 
 them persons of distinction, and magistrates, 
 obliged to fly in hired carriages, and in the habit 
 of slaves ; * for their fears had made them leave 
 Rome in that disguise. 
 
 Caesar had not then with him above 300 horse 
 and 5000 foot. The rest of his forces were left 
 on the other side of the Alps, arid he had sent 
 them orders to join him. But he saw the begin- 
 ning of his enterprise, and the attack he medi- 
 tated did not require any great numbers : his 
 enemies were rather to be struck with consterna- 
 tion by the boldness and expedition with which 
 he began his operations ; for an unexpected 
 movement would be more likely to make an 
 impression upon them then, than great prepara- 
 tions afterwards. He, therefore, ordered his 
 lieutenants and other officers to take their 
 swords, without any other armour, and make 
 themselves masters of Ariminum, a great city 
 in Gaul, but to take all possible care that no 
 blood should be shed or disturbance raised. 
 Hortensius was at the head of this party. As 
 for himself, he spent the day at a public show of 
 gladiators ; and a little before evening bathed, 
 and then went into the apartment, where he 
 entertained company. When it was growing 
 dark, he left the company, after having desired 
 them to make merry till his return, which they 
 would not have long to wait for. To some of 
 his friends he had given previous notice to follow 
 him, not altogether, but by different ways. Then 
 taking a hired carriage, he set out a different 
 way from that which led to Ariminum, and 
 turned into that road afterwards. 
 
 When he arrived at the banks of the Rubicon, 
 which divides Cisalpine Gaul from the rest of 
 Italy, his reflections became more interesting in 
 proportion as the danger grew near. Staggered 
 by the greatness of his attempt, he stopped, -to 
 weigh with himself its inconveniences ; and, as 
 he stood revolving in silence the arguments on 
 both sides, he many times changed his opinion. 
 After which, he deliberated upon it with such 
 of his friends as were by, among whom was 
 Asinius Pollio : enumerating the calamities 
 which the passage of that river would bring 
 upon the world, and the reflections that might 
 
 * Cassius Longinus went with them in the 
 same disguise. 
 
 be made upon it by posterity. At last, upon 
 some sudden impulse, bidding adieu to his 
 reasoning!;, and plunging into the abyss of 
 futurity, in the words of those who embark in 
 doubtful and arduous enterprises, he cried out, 
 
 ‘I The die is cast !” and immediately passed the 
 river. He travelled so fast the rest of the way, 
 that he reached Ariminum before daylight, and 
 took it. It is said, that the preceding night he 
 had a most abominable dream ; he thought ho 
 lay with his mother. 
 
 After the taking of Ariminum, as if war had 
 opened wide its gates both by sea and land, and 
 Csesar, by going beyond the bounds of his pro- 
 vince, had infringed the laws of his country ; 
 not individuals were seen, as on other occasions, 
 wandering in distraction about Italy, but whole 
 cities broken up, and seeking refuge by flight. 
 Most of the tumultuous tide flowed into Rome, 
 and it was so filled with the hasty conflux of the 
 circling people, that amidst the violent agitation 
 it would hardly either obey the magistrate, or 
 listen to the voice of reason, but was in the 
 utmost danger of falling by its own violence ; 
 for the whole was a prey to contrary passions 
 and the most violent convulsions. Those who 
 favoured these disorders were not satisfied with 
 enjoying them in private, but reproached the 
 other party, amidst their fears and sorrows, and 
 insulted them with menaces of what was to 
 come ; which is the necessary consequence of 
 such troubles in a great city. 
 
 Pompey himself, who was already confounded 
 at the turn things had taken, was still more dis- 
 turbed by a variety of censures on his conduct. 
 Sonae said, he justly suffered for exalting Csesar 
 against himself and his country ; others, for per- 
 mitting Lentulus to overrule him, when Csesar 
 departed from his first demands, and offered 
 equitable terms of peace. Favonius went so far 
 as to bid him “ Stamp with his foot alluding 
 to a vaunting speech he had made in the senate, 
 in which he bade them take no thought about 
 preparations for the war; for, as soon as he 
 rnarched out of Rome, if he did but stamp with 
 his foot, he should fill Italy with his legions. 
 
 Pompey, however, at that time was not in- 
 ferior in numbers to Csesar, but his partisans 
 would not suffer him to proceed according to his 
 own opinion. By false reports and groundless 
 terrors, as if the enemy was at the gates, and 
 had carried all before him, they forced him along 
 with the general torrent. He had it decreed, 
 therefore, that things were in a tumultuous state, 
 and nothing to be expected but hostilities ; and 
 then left Rome, having first ordered the senate, 
 and every man to follow, who preferred his 
 country and liberty to the rod of a tyrant. The 
 consuls too fled with him, without offering the 
 sacrifices which custom required before they 
 took their departure from Rome. Most of the 
 senators snatched up those things in their houses 
 that were next at hand, as if the whole was not 
 their own, and joined in the flight. Nay, there 
 were some, who before were well affected to 
 Caesar, that in the present terror changed sides, 
 and suffered themselves without necessity to be 
 carried away by the torrent. What a miserable 
 spectacle was the city then ! In so dreadful a 
 tempest, like a ship abandoned by its pilots, 
 tossed about at all adventures, and at the mercy i 
 of the winds and seas. But though flight was | 
 
JULIUS 
 
 so unpromising an alternative, such was the love 
 the Romans had for Pompey, that they con- 
 sidered the place he retired to as their country, 
 and Rome as the camp of Caesar. For even 
 Labienus, one of Caesar’s principal friends, who, 
 in quality of his lieutenant, had served under 
 him with the greatest alacrity in the wars of 
 Gaul, now went over to Pompey. Nevertheless, 
 Caesar sent him his money and his equipage. 
 
 After this, Caesar invested Corfinium, where 
 Domitius, with thirty cohorts, commanded for 
 Pompey. Domitius* in despair ordered a ser- 
 vant of his, who was his physician, to give him 
 poison. He took the draught prepared for him, 
 as a sure means of death ; but soon after hearing 
 of Caesar’s extraordinary clemency to his pri- 
 soners, he lamented his own case and the hasty 
 resolution he had taken. Upon which the phy- 
 sician removed his fears, by assuring him that 
 what he had drank was a sleeping potion, not a 
 deadly one. This gave him such spirits, that 
 he rose up and went to Caesar. But though 
 Caesar pardoned him, and gave him his hand, he 
 soon revolted, and repaired again to Pompey. 
 
 The news of this transaction being brought to 
 Rome, gave great relief to the minds of the 
 people, and many who had fled came back again. 
 In the mean time, Caesar, having added to his 
 own army the troops of Domitius, and all others 
 that Pompey had left in garrison, was strong 
 enough to march against Pompey himself. The 
 latter, however, did not wait for him ; but re- 
 tired to Brundusium, from whence he sent the 
 consuls with part of the forces to Dyrrhachium, 
 and a little after, upon the approach of Caesar, 
 sailed thither himself, as we have related at 
 large in his life. Caesar would have followed 
 him immediately, but he wanted ships. He 
 therefore returned to Rome, with the glory of 
 having reduced Italy in sixty days without spill- 
 ing a drop of blood. 
 
 Finding the city in a more settled condition 
 than he expected, and many senators there, he 
 addressed them in a mild and gracious manner, 
 and desired them to send deputies to Pompey to 
 offer honourable terms of peace. But not one 
 of them would take upon him the commission : 
 whether it was that they were afraid of Pompey, 
 whom . they had deserted, or whether they 
 thought C aesar not in earnest in the proposal, 
 and that he only made it to save appearances. 
 As Metellus the tribune opposed his taking 
 money out of the public treasury, and alleged 
 some laws against it, Caesar said, “Arms and 
 laws do not flourish together. If you are not 
 pleased at what I am about, you have nothing 
 to do but to withdraw : indeed, war will not bear 
 much liberty of speech. When I say this, I am 
 departing from my own right : for you and all, 
 whom I have found exciting a spirit of faction 
 against me, are at my disposal.” Saying this, 
 he approached the doors of the treasury, and as 
 the keys were not produced, he sent for workmen 
 to break them open. Metellus opposed him 
 again, and some praised his firmness ; but 
 Caesar, raising his voice, threatened to put him 
 
 * Lucius Domitius ^Enobarbus was nominated 
 to succeed Caesar, pursuant to the decree of the 
 senate, in the government of Transalpine Gaul ; 
 but he imprudently shut himself up in Corfinium 
 before he left Italy, 
 
 C^SAR» 501 
 
 to death, if he gave him any farther trouble. 
 “And, young man,” said he, “you are not 
 ignorant that this is harder for me to say than to 
 do.” Metellus, terrified with his menace, re- 
 tired, and afterwards Caesar was easily and 
 readily supplied with everything necessary for 
 the war. 
 
 Flis first movement was to Spain, from whence 
 he was resolved to drive Afranius and Varro, 
 Pompey’s lieutenants, and after having made 
 himself master of their troops and provinces, to 
 march against Pompey, without leaving any 
 enemy behind him. In the course of this expe- 
 dition, his life was often in danger from ambus- 
 cades, and his army had to combat with famine ; 
 yet he continued his operations against the 
 enemy, either by pursuit, or offering them battle, 
 or forming lines of circumvallation about them, 
 till he forced their camp, and added their troops 
 to his own. The officers made their escape, and 
 retired to Pompey. 
 
 Upon his return to Rome, his father-in-law 
 Piso pressed him to send deputies to Pompey to 
 treat of an accommodation ; but Isauricus, to 
 make his court to Caesar, opposed it. The 
 senate declared him dictator, and while he held 
 that office, he recalled the exiles ; he restored to 
 their honours the children of those who had 
 suffered under Sylla ; and relieved debtors by 
 cancelling part of the usury. These, and a few 
 more, were his acts during his dictatorship, 
 which he laid down in eleven days. After this, 
 he caused himself to be declared consul with 
 Servilius Isauricus, and then went to prosecute 
 the war. He marched so fast to Brundusium, 
 that all his troops could not keep up with him. 
 However, he embarked with only 600 select 
 horse and five legions. It was at the time of 
 the winter solstice, the beginning of January, 
 which answers to the Athenian month Poseideon^ 
 that he set sail. He crossed the lonion, made 
 himself master of Oricum and Apollonia, and 
 sent back * his ships to Brundusium to bring 
 over the forces that were left behind. But those 
 troops, exhausted with fatigue, and tired out 
 with the multitude of enemies they had to 
 engage with, broke out into complaints against 
 Cmsar, as they were upon their march to the 
 port. “ Whither will this man lead us,” said they, 
 “ and where will be the end of our labours ? Will 
 he harass us for ever, as if we had limbs of 
 stone, or bodies of iron? But iron itself yields 
 to repeated blows ; our very shields and cuirasses 
 call out for rest. Will not Caesar learn from our 
 wounds that we are mortal, that we have the 
 same feelings, and are liable to the same impres- 
 sions with other men ? The gods themselves 
 cannot force the seasons, or clear the winter seas 
 of storms and tempests. And it is in this season 
 that he would expose us, as if he was flying from 
 his enemies, rather than pursuing them.” 
 
 Amidst such discourse as this, they moved t»n 
 slowly to Brundusium. But when they arrived 
 there, and found that Csesar was gone, they 
 changed their language, and reproached them- 
 
 * He sent them back under the conduct of 
 Calenus. That officer, losing the opportunity 
 of the wind, fell in with Bibulus, who took thirty 
 of his ships, and burned them all, together with 
 their pilots and mariners, in order to intimidate 
 the rest. 
 
502 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 selves as traitors to their general. They vented 
 their anger upon their officers, too, for not 
 hastening their march. And sitting upon the 
 cliffs, they kept their eyes upon the sea towards 
 Epirus, to see if they could discover the trans- 
 ports that were to fetch them. 
 
 Meantime Caesar, not having a sufficient force 
 at Apollonia to make head against the enemy, and 
 seeing the troops at Brundusium delayed to join 
 him, to relieve himself from the anxiety and 
 perplexity he was in, undertook a most astonish- 
 ing enterprise. Though the sea was covered 
 with the enemy’s fleets, he resolved to ernbark in 
 a vessel of twelve oars, without acquainting any 
 person with his intention, and sail to Brundu- 
 sium.* In the night, therefore, he took the habit 
 of a slave, and throwing himself into the vessel 
 like a man of no account, sat there in silence. 
 They fell down the river Anias for the sea, where 
 the entrance is generally easy, because the land- 
 wind, rising in the morning, used to beat off the 
 waves of the sea and smooth the mouth of the 
 river. But unluckily that night a strong sea- 
 wind sprung up which overpowered that from the 
 land : so that by the rage of the sea and the 
 counteraction of the stream, the river_ became 
 extremely rough ; the waves dashed against each 
 other with a tumultuous noise, and formed such 
 dangerous eddies, that the pilot despaired of 
 making good his passage, and ordered the 
 mariners to turn back. Csesar, perceiving this, 
 rose up, and showing himself to the pilot, who 
 was greatly astonished at the sight of him, said, 
 “ Go forward, my friend, and fear nothing ; thou 
 carriest Csesar and his fortune,” The mariners 
 then forgot the storm, and plying their oars with 
 the utmost vigour and alacrity, endeavoured to 
 overcome the resistance of the waves. But such 
 was their violence at the mouth of the river, and 
 the water flowed so fast into the vessel, that 
 Caesar at last, though with great reluctance, per- 
 mitted the pilot to turn back. Upon his return 
 to his camp, the soldiers met him in crowds, 
 pouring out their complaints, and expressing the 
 greatest concern that he did not assure himself 
 of conquering with them only, but, in distrust of 
 their support, gave himself so much uneasiness 
 and exposed his person to so much danger on 
 account of the absent. 
 
 Soon after, Antony arrived from Brundusium 
 with the troops.! Csesar, then in the highest 
 spirits, offered battle to Pompey, who was en- 
 camped in an advantageous manner, and abun- 
 dantly supplied with provisions both from sea 
 and land ; whereas Csesar at first had no great 
 plenty, and afterwards was in extreme want. 
 
 The soldiers however, found great relief from a 
 root * in the adjoining fields, which they pre- 
 pared in milk. Sometimes they made it into 
 bread, and going up to the enemy’s advanced 
 guards, threw it in among them, and declared, 
 that as long as the earth produced such roots, 
 they would certainly besiege Pompey. 
 
 Pompey would not suffer either such bread to 
 be produced, or such speeches to be reported in 
 his camp ; for his men were already discouraged, 
 and ready to shudder at the thought of the im- 
 penetrable hardness of Cesar’s troops, who could 
 bear as much as so many wild beasts. There 
 were frequent skirmishes about Pompey’s in- 
 trenchments,! and Csesar had the advantage in 
 them all, except one, in which his party was 
 forced to fly with such precipitation that he was 
 in danger of having his camp taken. Pompey 
 headed the attack in person, and not a man could 
 stand before him. He drove them upon their 
 own lines in the utmost confusion, and filled 
 their trenches with the dead. 
 
 Csesar ran to meet them, and would have 
 rallied the fugitives, but it was not in his power. 
 He laid hold on the ensign staves to stop them, 
 and some left them in his hands, and others 
 threw them upon the ground, insomuch that no 
 less than thirty-two standards were_ taken. 
 Csesar himself was very near losing his life ; for 
 having laid hold of a tall and strong man, to stop 
 him and make him face about, the soldier in his 
 terror and confusion lifted up his sword to strike 
 him ; but Csesar’s armour-bearer prevented it by 
 a blow which cut off his arm. 
 
 Csesar saw his affairs that day in so bad a 
 posture, that after Pompey, either through too 
 much caution, or the caprice of fortune, instead 
 of giving the finishing stroke to so great an 
 action, stopped as soon as he had shut up the 
 enemy within their intrenchments, and sounded 
 a retreat, he said to his friends as he withdrew, 
 “ This day victory would have declared for the 
 enemy, if they had had a general who_ knew how- 
 to conquer.” He sought repose in his tent, but 
 it proved the most melancholy night of his life ; 
 for he gave himself up to endless reflections on 
 his own misconduct in the war._ He considered 
 how wrong it was, when the wide countries and 
 rich cities of Macedonia and Thessaly were 
 before him, to confine himself to so narrow a 
 scene of action, and sit still by the sea, while the 
 enemy’s fleets had the superiority, and in a pHce 
 where he suffered the inconveniences of a siege 
 from the want of provisions, rather than besiege 
 the enemy by his arms. _ Thus agitated and dis- 
 tressed by the perplexities and difficulties of his 
 
 * Most historians blame this as a rash action ; 
 and Csesar himself, in his Commentaries, makes 
 no mention of this, or of another less_ dangerous 
 attempt, which is related by Suetonius. While 
 he* was making war in Gaul, upon advice that the 
 Gauls had surrounded his army in his absence, he 
 dressed himself like a native of the country, and 
 in that disguise passed through the enemy’s 
 sentinels and troops to his own camp. 
 
 ! Antony and Calenus embarked on board the 
 vessels which had escaped Bibulus, 800 horse and 
 four legions, that is, three old ones, and one that 
 had been newly raised ; and when they were 
 landed, Antony sent back the ships for the rest 
 of the forces. 
 
 * This root was called Clcera. ^ Some of 
 Csesar’s soldiers, who had served in Sardinia, 
 had there learned to make bread of it. 
 
 t Csesar observed an old camp which he had 
 occupied in the place where Pompey was enclosed, 
 and afterwards abandoned. Upon his quitting 
 it, Pompey had taken possession of it, and left a 
 legion to guard it. This post Csesar attempted 
 to reduce, and it was in this attempt that he 
 suffered so much loss. He lost 960 foot, 400 
 horse, among whom were several Roman knights, 
 five tribunes, and thirty-two centurions. We 
 mentioned just now that Pompey was enclosed, 
 as in fact he was on the land side, by a line of 
 circumvallation drawn by Csesar. 
 
JULIUS C^SAR. 
 
 503 
 
 situation, he resolved to decamp, and march 
 against Scipio in Macedonia ; concluding, that 
 he should either draw Pompey after him, and 
 force him to fight where he could not receive 
 supplies, as he had done, from the sea ; or else 
 that he should easily crush Scipio, if he found 
 him unsupported. 
 
 Pompe/s troops and officers were greatly elated 
 at this retreat of Caesar ; they considered it as 
 a flight amd an acknowledgment that he was 
 beaten, and therefore wanted to pursue. But 
 Pompey himself was unwilling to hazard a battle 
 of such consequence. He was well provided 
 with everything requisite for waiting the advan- 
 tages of time, and for that reason chose, by 
 protracting the war, to wear out the little vigour 
 the enemy had left. The most valuable of 
 Caesar’s troops had, indeed, an experience and 
 courage which were irresistible in the field ; but 
 age had made them unfit for long marches, for 
 throwing up intrenchments, for attacking walls, 
 and passing whole nights under arms. They 
 were too unwieldy to endure much fatigue, and 
 their inclination for labour lessened with their 
 strength. Besides, there was said to be a con- 
 tagious distemper amonj them, which arose from 
 their strange and bad diet : and what was still a 
 more important circumstance, Caesar wanted both 
 money and provisions, so that it seemed as if he 
 must shortly fall of himself. 
 
 These were Pompey’s reasons for declining a 
 battle ; but not a man, except Cato, was of his 
 opinion ; and he, only, because he was willing to 
 spare the blood of his countrymen : for when he 
 saw the bodies of the enemy, who fell in the late 
 action, to the number of 1000, lie dead upon the 
 field, he covered his face, and retired, weeping. 
 All the rest censured Pompey for not deciding 
 the affair immediately with the sword, calling 
 him Ae,amein 7 ton, and King of Kings, as if he 
 was unwilling to be deprived of the monarchy 
 he was in possession of, and delighted to see so 
 many generals waiting his orders, and attending 
 to pay their court. Favonius, who affected to 
 imitate Cato’s bold manner of speaking, but 
 carried it much too far, lamented that Pompey’s 
 wanting to keep the kingly state he had got 
 would prevent their eating figs that year at Tus- 
 culum. And Afranius, lately come from Spain, 
 where he had succeeded so ill in his coinmand, 
 that he was accused of having been bribed to 
 betray his army, asked Pompey why he did not 
 fight that merchant who trafficked in provinces. 
 
 Piqued at these reproaches, Pompey, against 
 his own judgment, marched after Caesar, who 
 proceeded on his route with great difficulty ; for, 
 on account of his late loss, all looked upon him 
 with contempt, and refused to supply him with 
 provisions. However, upon his taking Gomphi,* 
 a town in Thessaly, his troops not only found 
 sufficient refreshments, but recovered surprisingly 
 of the distemper : for, drinking plentifully of the 
 wine they found there, and afterwards marching 
 on in a Bacchanalian manner, the new turn their 
 
 • Caesar, perceiving of how much importance 
 it was to his service to make himself master of 
 the place before Pompey or Scipio could come 
 up, gave a general assault, about three in the 
 afternoon ; and, though the walls were very high, 
 carried it before sunset. 
 
 blood took threw off the disorder, and gave them 
 another habit of body. 
 
 ’V^en the two armies were encamped opposite 
 each ether on the plains of Pharsalla, Pompey \ 
 returned to his old opinion ; in which he was con- | 
 firmed by some unlucky omens, and an alarming : 
 dream. He dreamed that the people of Rome ; 
 received him in the theatre with loud plaudits, j 
 and that he adorned the chapel of Venus Nice- 
 pJun-a, from whom Caesar derived his p»edigree. i 
 But if Pompey was alarmed, those about him | 
 were so absurdly sanguine in their expectations i 
 of victory, that Domitius, Spinther, and Scipio, I 
 quarrelled about Caesar’s pontificate ; and nuin- I 
 bers sent to Rome, to engage houses convenient | 
 for consuls and praetors, making themselves sure ; 
 of being soon raised to those high offices after j 
 the war. But the cavalry testified the greatest ' 
 impatience for a battle ; so proud were they of i 
 their fine arms, of the condition of their horses, I 
 and the beauty and vigour of their persons ; i 
 besides, they were much more numerous than | 
 Caesar’s, being 7000 to 1000. Nor were the num- i 
 bers of infantry equal ; for Pompey had 45,000, | 
 
 and Caesar only 22,000. j 
 
 Caesar called his soldiers together, and told | 
 them that Comificius was well advanced on his : 
 way with two more legions, and that he had 
 fifteen cohorts under the command of Calenus, in 
 the environs of Megara and Athens. He then 
 asked them whether they chose to wait for those 
 troops, or to risk a battle without them. They ' 
 answered aloud, “ Let us not wait ; but do you 
 find out some stratagem to bring the enemy, as 
 soon as possible, to an action.” 
 
 He began with offering sacrifices of purification 
 for his army, and upon opening the first victim, 
 the soothsayer cned out, “You wall fight v/ithin 
 three days.” Csesar then asked him, if there 
 appeared in the entrails any auspicious presage. 
 He answered, “ It is you who can best resolve 
 that question. The gods announce a great change 
 and revolution in affairs. If you are happy at 
 present, the alteration will be for the worse ; if 
 otherwise, expect better fortune.” The night 
 before the battle, as he w^alked the rounds about 
 midnight, there appeared a luminous phenomenon 
 in the air, like a torch, which, as it passed over 
 his camp, flamed out with great brightness, and 
 seemed to fall in that of Pompey. And, in the 
 morning, when the guards were relieved, a 
 tumult was observed in the enemy’s camp, not 
 unlike a panic terror. Caesar, however, so little 
 expected an action that day, that he had ordered 
 his troops to decamp, and march to Scotusa.* 
 
 But as they were striking their tents, his scouts 
 rode up and told him the enemy were coming 
 down to give him battle. Happy in the news, he 
 made his prayer to the gods, and then drew up 
 his army, which he divided into three bodies. 
 Domitius Calvinus w'as to command the centre, 
 Antony the left wing, and himself the right, 
 where he intended to charge at the head of the 
 tenth legion. Struck wdth the number and mag- 
 nificent appearance of the enemy’s cavalry, who 
 were posted over against him, he ordered six 
 cohorts privately to advance from the rear. These 
 he placed behind the right wing, and gave them 
 
 * Caesar hoped, by his frequent decampings, to 
 provide better for his troops, and perhaps gain a 
 favourable opportunity of fighting. 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 504 
 
 instructions what to do when the enemy’s horse 
 came to charge.* * * § Pompey’s disposition was this : 
 he commanded the right wing himself, Domkius 
 the left, and his father-in-law, Scipio, the main 
 body. The whole weight of the cavalry was in 
 the left wing ; for they designed to surround the 
 right of the enemy, and to make a successful 
 effort where C?esar fought in person ; thinking 
 that no body of foot could be deep enough to 
 bear such a shock, but they must necessarily be 
 broken in pieces upon the first inipre-ssion. 
 
 When the signal was ready to be given, Pom- 
 pey ordered his infantry to stand in close order, 
 and wait the enemy’s attack, till they were near 
 enough to be reached by the javelin. Csesar 
 blamed this conduct. He said Ppmpey was not 
 aware what weight the swift and fierce advance 
 to the first charge gives to every blow, nor how 
 the courage of each soldier is inflamed by the 
 rapid motion of the whole, f 
 
 He was now going to put his troops in motion, 
 when he saw a trusty and experienced centurion 
 encouraging his men to distinguish themselves 
 that day. Csesar called him by his name, and 
 said, “What cheer, Caius Crassinus?!; How, 
 think you, do we stand?” “Caesar,” said the 
 veteran, in a bold accent, and stretching out his 
 hand, “ the victory is ours. It will be a glorious 
 one ; and this day I shall have your praise either 
 alive or dead.” So saying, he ran m upon the 
 enemy, at the head of his compan3% which con- 
 sisted of 120 men. He did great execution 
 among the first ranks, and was pressing on with 
 equal fierceness, when one of his antagonists 
 pushed his sword with such force in his mouth, 
 that the point came out at the nape of his neck. 
 
 While the infantry were thus warmly engaged 
 in the centre, the cavalry advanced from Pom- 
 pey’s left wing with great confidence, and ex- 
 tended their squadrons, to surround Caesar’s right 
 wing._ But before they could begin the attack, § 
 the six cohorts which Caesar had placed behind 
 came up boldly to receive them. They did not, 
 according to custom, attempt to annoy the 
 enemy with their javelins at a distance, nor 
 strike at the legs and thighs when they came 
 nearer, but aimed at their eyes, and wounded 
 them in the face, agreeably to the orders they 
 had received. For Caesar hoped that these 
 young cavaliers who had not been used to wars 
 and wounds, and who set a great value upon their 
 beauty, would avoid, above all things, a stroke in 
 
 * Caesar and Appian agree, that Pompey 
 osted himself in his left wing, not in the right, 
 t is also highly probable that Afranius, not 
 Lucius Domitius iFnobarbus, commanded Pom- 
 pey’s right wing. Caesar does not, indeed, ex- 
 pressly say who commanded there, but he says, 
 “ On the right was posted the legion of Cilicia, 
 with the cohorts brought by Afranius out of 
 Spain, which Pompey esteemed the flower of his 
 army.” See the notes on the Life of Pompey. 
 
 t Caesar was so confident of success that he 
 ordered his intrenchments to be filled up, assuring 
 his troops that they would be masters of the 
 enemy’s camp before night. 
 
 X Plutarch, in the life of Pompey, calls him 
 Crassiau 7 (s. Caesar calls him Crastmus. 
 
 § Caesar says, they did engage his right wing, 
 and obliged his cavalry to give ground. Bell. 
 Civil, lib. iii. 
 
 that part, and immediately give way, as well on 
 account of the present danger as the future de- 
 formity. The event answered his expectation. 
 They could not bear the spears pointed against 
 their faces, or the steel gleaming upon their eyes, 
 but turned away their faces, and covered them 
 with their hands. This caused such confusion, 
 that at last they fled in the most infamous 
 manner, and ruined the whole cause. For the 
 cohorts which had been beaten off surrounded 
 their infantry, and charging them in the rear, as 
 well as in front, soon cut them to pieces. 
 
 Pompey, when from the other wing he saw 
 his cayalry put to the rout, was no longer himself, 
 nor did he remember that he was Pompey the 
 Great ; but like a man deprived of his senses by 
 some superior power, or struck with consternation 
 at his defeat as the consequence of the divine 
 decree, he retired to his camp without speaking a 
 word, and sat down in his tent to wait the issue. 
 At last, after his whole army was broken and dis- 
 persed, and the enemy had got upon his ram- 
 parts, and were engaged with the troops appointed 
 to defend them, he seemed to come to himself, 
 and cried out, “ What ! into my camp too ? ” 
 Without uttering one word more, he laid aside 
 the ensigns of his dignity as general, and taking 
 a habit that might favour his flight, he made his 
 escape privately. What misfortunes befell him 
 afterwards, how he put himself in the hands of 
 the Egyptians, and was assassinated _ by the 
 traitors, we have related at large in his life. 
 
 Wlien Ca;sar entered the camp, and saw what 
 numbers of the enemy lay dead, and those they 
 were then despatching, he said with a sigh, 
 “'I'lils they would have; to this cruel necessity 
 they reduced me : for had Caesar dismissed his 
 troops, after so many great and successful wars, 
 he would liave been condemned as a criminal.” 
 Asinius Pollio tells us, Caesar spoke those words 
 in Latin, and that he afterwards expressed the 
 sense of them in Greek. He adds, that most of 
 those who were killed at the taking of the camp 
 were slaves, and that there fell^ not in the battle 
 above 6000 soldiers.* Caesar incorporated with 
 his own legions most of the infantry that were 
 taken prisoners ; and pardoned many persons of 
 distinction. Brutus, who afterwards killed him, 
 was of the number. It is said, that when he did 
 not make his appearance after the battle, Caesar 
 was very uneasy, and that upon his presenting 
 himself unhurt, he expressed great joy. 
 
 Among the many signs that announced this 
 victory, that at Tralles was the most remarkable. 
 There was a statue of' Caesar in the temple of 
 Victory, and though the ground about it was 
 naturally hard, and paved with hard stone besides, 
 it is said that a palm-tree sprung up at the 
 pedestal of the statue. At Padua, Caius Corne- 
 lius, a countryman and acquaintance of Livy, and 
 a celebrated diviner, was observing the flight of 
 birds the day the battle of Pharsalia was fought. 
 By this observation, according to Livy’s account, 
 he first discerned the time of action, and said to 
 those that were by, “ The great affair now draws 
 to a decision ; the two generals are engaged. ” 
 Then he made another observation, and the signs 
 
 * Csesar says, there fell about 15,000 of the 
 enemy, and that he took above 24,000 prisoners ; 
 and that on his side, the loss amounted only to 
 about 200 private soldiers and thirty centurions. 
 
JULIUS CySSAL. 505 
 
 appeared so clear to him, that he leaped up in 
 the most enthusiastic manner, and cried out, 
 “ Csesar, thou art the conqueror.” As the company 
 stood in great astonishment, he took the sacred 
 fillet from his head, and swore he would never 
 put it on again till the event had put his art 
 beyond question. Livy affirms this for a truth. 
 
 Caesar granted the whole nation of Thessaly 
 their liberty, for the sake of the victory he had 
 gained there, and then went in pursuit of Pompey. 
 He bestowed the same privilege on the Cnidians, 
 in compliment to Theopompus, to whom we are 
 indebted for a collection of fables, and he dis- 
 charged the inhabitants of Asia from a third part 
 of their imposts. 
 
 Upon his arrival at Alexandria, he found 
 Pompey assassinated, and when Theodotus pre- 
 sented the head to him, he turned from the sight 
 with great abhorrence. The signet of that 
 general was the only thing he took, and on taking 
 it he wept. _As often as any of Pompey’s friends 
 and companions were taken by Ptolemy, wander- 
 ing about the country, and brought to Csesar, he 
 loaded them with favours and took them into his 
 own service. He wrote to his friends at Rome, 
 that the chief enjoyment he had of his victory 
 was, in_ saving every day one or other of his 
 fellow-citizens who had borne arms against 
 him. 
 
 As for his Egyptian war, some assert, that it 
 was undertaken without necessity, and that his 
 passion for Cleopatra engaged him in a quarrel 
 v/hich proved both prejudicial to his reputation 
 and dangerous to his person. Others accuse the 
 king’s ministers, particularly the eunuch Photinus, 
 who had the greatest influence at court, and who, 
 having taken off Pompey and removed Cleopatra, 
 privately meditated an attempt against Caesar. 
 Hence it is said, that Caesar began to pass the 
 night in entertainments among his friends, for 
 the greater security of his person. The behaviour, 
 indeed, of this eunuch in public, all he said and 
 did ^yith respect to Caesar, was intolerably insolent 
 and invidious. The corn he supplied his soldiers 
 with was old and musty, and he told them, they 
 ought to be satisfied with it, since they lived at 
 other people’s cost. He caused only wooden and 
 earthen vessels to be served up at the king’s 
 table, on pretence that Caesar had taken all the 
 gold and silver ones for debt. For the father of 
 the reigning prince owed Caesar 17,500,000 drach- 
 mas. Caesar had formerly remitted to his 
 children the rest, but thought fit to demand the 
 10,000,000 at this time, for the maintenance of his 
 army. Photinus, instead of paying the money, 
 advised hini to go and finish the great affairs he 
 had upon his hands, after which he should have 
 his money with thanks. But Caesar told him, 
 he had no need of Egyptian counsellors, and 
 privately sent for Cleopatra out of the country. 
 
 This princess, taking only one friend, Apollo- 
 dorus, the Sicilian, with her, got into a small 
 boat, and in the dusk of the evening made for the 
 palace. As she saw it difficult to enter it un- 
 discovered, she rolled herself up in a carpet ; 
 Apollodorus tied her up at full length, like a bale 
 of goods, and carried her in at the gates to Caesar. 
 T. his stratagem of hers, which was a strong proof 
 of her wit and ingenuity, is said to have first 
 opened her the way to Caesar’s heart ; and the 
 conquest advanced so fast, by the charms of her 
 conversation, that he took upon him to reconcile 
 
 her brother to her, and insisted that she should 
 reign with him. 
 
 An entertainment was given on account of this 
 reconciliation, and all met to rejoice on the 
 occasion ; when a servant of Caesar’s, who was 
 his barber, a timorous and suspicious man, led by 
 his natural caution to inquire into everything, 
 and to listen ever3rwhere about the palace, found 
 that Achillas the general, and Photinus the 
 eunuch, were_ plotting against Caesar’s life. 
 Caesar, being informed of their design, planted 
 his guards about the hall and killed Photinus. 
 But Achillas escaped to the army, and involved 
 Cmsar in a very difficult and dangerous war j for, 
 with a few troops, he had to make head against 
 a great city and a powerful army. 
 
 The first difficulty he met with * was the want 
 of water, the Egyptians having stopped up the 
 aqueducts that supplied his quarter. f The 
 second was, the loss of his ships in harbour, 
 which he was forced to burn himself, to prevent 
 their falling into the enemy’s hands ; when the 
 flames unfortunately spreading from the dock to 
 the palace, burned the great Alexandrian library. 
 The third t was in the sea. fight near the isle of 
 Pharos, when, seeing his men hard pressed, he 
 leaped from the mole into a little skiff, to go to 
 their assistance. The Egyptians making up on 
 all sides, he threw himself into the sea, and with 
 much difficulty reached his galleys by swimming. § 
 Having several valuable papers, which he was 
 not willing either to lose or to wet, it is said he 
 held them above water with one hand, and swam 
 with the other. The skiff sunk soon after he left 
 it. At last the king joining the insurgents, Caesar 
 attacked and defeated him. Great numbers of 
 the Egyptians were slain, and the king was heard 
 of no_ more. This gave Caesar opportunity to 
 establish Cleopatra queen of Egypt. Soon after, 
 she had a son by him, whojn the Alexandrians 
 called Caesario. 
 
 He then departed for Syria, and from thence 
 marched into Asia Minor, where he had intelli- 
 gence that Domitius, whom he had left governor, 
 was defeated by Pharnaces, son of Mithridates, 
 and forced to fly out of Pontus with the few 
 troops that he had left ; and that Pharnaces, pur- 
 suing his advantage with great ardour, had made 
 himself master of Bythynia and Cappadocia, and 
 was attempting Armenia the Less, having stirred 
 up all the kings and tetrarchs of Asia against the 
 Romans. Caesar immediately marched against 
 him with three legions, and defeated him in a 
 
 * He was in great danger before, when attacked 
 in the palace by Achillas, who had made himself 
 master of Alexandria. Cces. Bell. Civil, lib. iii. 
 sub fi 7 iem. 
 
 t They also contrived to raise the sea-water by 
 engines, and pour it into Caesar’s reservoirs and 
 cisterns ; but Caesar ordered wells to be dug, and 
 in a night’s time got a sufficient quantity of fresh 
 water. Vide Cces. Bell. Alex. 
 
 X First, there was a general naval engagement ; 
 after which Caesar attacked the island, and, last of 
 all, the mole. It was in this last attack he was 
 under the difficulty mentioned by Plutarch. 
 
 § His first intention was to gain the Admiral 
 galley ; but, finding it very hard pressed, he 
 made for the others. And it was fortunate for 
 him that he did, for his own galley soon went to 
 the bottom. 
 
5o6 PLUTARCirs LIVES. 
 
 great battle near Zela, which deprived him of the 
 kingdom of Pontus, as well as ruined his whole 
 army. In the account he gave Amintius, one of 
 his friends in Rome, of the rapidity and despatch 
 with which he gained his victory, he made use only 
 of three words, “ I came, I saw, I conquered.” 
 Their having all the same form and termination 
 in the Roman language adds grace to their con- 
 ciseness. 
 
 After this extraordinary success he returned to 
 Italy, and arrived at Rome, as the year of his 
 second dictatorship, an office that had never been 
 annual before, was on the point of expiring. He 
 was declared consul for the year ensuing. But it 
 was a blot in his character that he did not punish 
 his troops, who, in a tumult, had killed Cosconius 
 and Galba, men of Praetorian dignity, in any 
 severer manner than by calling them citizens,* 
 instead of fellow-soldiers. Nay, he gave each 
 of them looo drachmas notwithstanding, and 
 assigned them large portions of land in Italy. 
 Other complaints against him arose from the 
 madness of Dolabella, the avarice of Amintius, 
 the drunkenness of Antony, and the insolence 
 of Cornificius,t who, having got possession of 
 Pompey’s house, pulled it down, and rebuilt_ it, 
 because he thought it not large enough for him. 
 These things were very disagreeable to the 
 Romans. Caesar knew it, and disapproved such 
 behaviour, but was obliged, through political 
 views, to make use of such ministers. 
 
 Cato and Scipio, after the battle of Pharsalia, 
 had escaped into Africa, where they raised a 
 respectable army with the assistance of King 
 Juba. Caesar now resolved to carry war into 
 their quarters, and in order to it, first crossed 
 over to Sicily, though it was about the time of 
 the winter solstice. To prevent his officers from 
 entertaining any hopes of having the expedition 
 delayed, he pitched his own tent almost within 
 the wash of the sea ; and a favourable wind 
 springing up, he re-embarked with 3000 foot and 
 a small body of horse.J After he had landed 
 them safely and privately on the African coast, 
 he set sail again in quest of the remaining part of 
 his troops, whose numbers were more considerable, 
 and for whom he was under great concern. He 
 found them, however, on their way at sea, and 
 conducted them all to his African camp. 
 
 He was there informed, that the enemy had 
 great dependence on an ancient oracle, the pur- 
 
 port of which was, that the race of Scipio would 
 be always victorious in Africa. And, as he hap- 
 pened to have in his army one of the family 
 of Africanus, named Scipio Sallution, though in 
 other respects a contemptible fellow, either in 
 ridicule of Scipio, the enemy’s general, or to turn 
 the oracle on his side, in all engagements he gave 
 this Sallution the command, as if he had been 
 really general. There were frequent occasions of 
 this kind ; for he was often forced to fight for 
 provisions, having neither a sufficiency of bread 
 for his men, nor of forage for his horses. He was 
 obliged to give his horses the very seaweed, only 
 washing out the salt, and mixing a little grass 
 with it to make it go down. The thing that laid 
 him under a necessity of having recourse to this 
 expedient was the number of Numidian cavalry, 
 who were extremely well mounted, and by swift 
 and sudden impressions commanded the whole 
 coast. 
 
 One day when Csesar’s cavalry had nothing else 
 to do, they diverted themselves with an African 
 who danced, and played upon the flute with great 
 perfection. They had left their horses to the care 
 of boys, and sat attending to the entertainment 
 with great delight, when the enemy, coming upon 
 them at once, killed part, and entered the camp 
 with others, who fled with great precipitation. 
 Had not Caesar himself, and Asinius Pollio come 
 to their assistance, and stopped their flight, the 
 war would have been at an end that hour. In 
 another engagement the enemy had the advantage 
 again on which occasion it was that Caesar took 
 an ensign, who was running away, by the neck, 
 and making him face about, said, “Look on this 
 side for the enemy.” 
 
 Scipio, flushed with these successful preludes, 
 was desirous to come to a decisive action. There- 
 fore, leaving Afranius and Juba in their respective 
 camps, which were at no great distance, he went 
 in person to the camp above the lake, in the 
 neighbourhood of Thapsus, to raise a fortification 
 for a place of arms and an occasional retreat. 
 While Scipio was constructing his walls and 
 ramparts, Ctesar, with incredible despatch, made 
 his way through a country almost impracticable, 
 by reason of its woods and difficult passes, and 
 coming suddenly upon him, attacked one part of 
 his army in the rear, another in the front, and 
 put the whole to flight. Then making the best 
 use of his opportunity, and of the favour of 
 fortune, with one tide of success he took the 
 camp of Afranius, and destroyed that of the 
 Numidians ; Juba, their king, being glad to save 
 himself by flight. Thus, in a small part of one 
 day, he made himself master of three camps, and 
 killed 50,000 of the enemy, with the loss only of 
 fifty men. 
 
 Such is the account some give us of the action ; 
 others say, that as Caesar was drawing up his 
 army and giving his orders, he had^ an attack of 
 his old distemper ; and that upon its approach, 
 before it had overpowered and deprived him of 
 his senses, as he felt the first agitations, he 
 directed his people to carry him to^ a neighbour- , 
 ing tower, where he lay in quiet till the fit was 
 over. 
 
 Many persons of consular and praetorian 
 dignity escaped out of the battle. Some of them, 
 being afterwards taken, despatched themselves, 
 and a number were put to death by Caesar. 
 Having a strong desire to take Cato alive, the 
 
 * But by this appellation they were cashiered. 
 It was the tenth legion which had mutinied at 
 Capua, and afterwards marched with great inso- 
 lence to Rome. Caesar readily gave them the 
 discharge they demanded, which so humbled 
 them, that they begged to be taken again into 
 his service ; and he did not admit of it without 
 much seeming reluctance, nor till after much 
 entreaty. 
 
 t It was Antony, not Cornificius, who got the 
 forfeiture of Pompey’s house ; as appears from 
 the life of Antony, and Cicero’s second Philippic. 
 Therefore there is, probably, a transposition in 
 this place, owing to the carelessness of some 
 transcriber. 
 
 X He embarked six legions and 2000 horse ; 
 but the number mentioned by Plutarch was all 
 that he landed with at first, many of the ships 
 having been separated by a storm. 
 
JULIUS CMSAR. 
 
 507 
 
 conqueror hastened to Utica,* which Cato had 
 the charge of, and for that reason was not in the 
 battle. But by the way he was informed that he 
 had killed himself, and his uneasiness at the news 
 was very visible. As his officers were wondering 
 what might be the cause of that uneasiness, he 
 cried out, “ Cato, I envy thee thy death, since 
 thou enviedst me the glory of giving thee thy 
 life.” Nevertheless, by the book which he wrote 
 against Cato after his death, it does not seem as 
 if he had any intentions of favour to him before. 
 For how can it be thought he would have spared 
 the living enemy, when he poured so much 
 venom afterwards upon his grave? Yet, from 
 his clemency to Cicero, to Brutus, and others 
 without number, who had borne arms against 
 him, it is conjectured, that the book was not 
 written with a spirit of rancour, but of political 
 ambition ; for it was composed on such an occa- 
 sion. Cicero had written an encomium upon 
 Cato, and he gave the name of Cato to the book. 
 It was highly esteemed by many of the Romans, 
 as might be expected, as well frorn the superior 
 eloquence of the author as the dignity of the 
 subject. Caesar was piqued at the success pf a 
 work, which, in praising a man who had killed 
 himself to avoid falling into his hands, he thought 
 insinuated something to the disadvantage of his 
 character. He therefore wrote an answer to it, 
 which he called Anticato, 201^ which contained 
 a variety of charges against that great man. 
 Both books have still their friends, as a regard to 
 the memory of Caesar or of Cato predominates. 
 
 Caesar, after his return from Africa to Rome, 
 spoke in high terms of his victory to the people. 
 He told them, he had subdued a country so 
 extensive, that it would _ bring yearly into the 
 public, stores 200,000 Attic t measures of wheat, 
 and 3,000,000 pounds of oil. After this, he led 
 up his several triumphs over Egypt, Pontus, 
 and Africa. In the title of the latter, mention 
 was not made of Scipio, but of Juba only. 
 Juba, the son of that prince, then very young, 
 walked in the procession. It proved a happy 
 captivity for him ; for of a barbarous and un- 
 lettered Numidian, he became an historian 
 worthy to be numbered among the most learned 
 of Greece. The triumph was followed by large 
 donations to the soldiers, and feasts and public 
 diversions for the people. He entertained them 
 at 22,000 tables, and presented them with a 
 numerous show of gladiators and naval fights, 
 in honour of his daughter Julia, who had been 
 long dead. 
 
 When those exhibitions were over,t an ac- 
 
 * Before Caesar left Utica, he gave orders for 
 the rebuilding of Carthage, as he did, soon after 
 his return to Italy, for the rebuilding of Corinth ; 
 so that these two cities were destroyed in the 
 same year, and in the same year raised out of 
 their ruins, in which they had lain about 100 
 years. Two years after, they were both repeopled 
 with Roman colonies. 
 
 t Medimni. See the table of weights and 
 measures. 
 
 % Ruauld takes notice of three great mistakes 
 in this passage. The first is, where it is said 
 that Caesar took a cefisus of the people. Sue- 
 tonius does not mention it, and Augustus himself, 
 in the Marmora Ancyrana, says, that in his sixth 
 consulate, that is, in the year of Rome 725, he 
 
 count was taken of the citizens, who, from 
 320,000," were reduced to 150,000. So fatal a 
 calamity was the civil war, and such a number 
 of the people did it take oft', to say nothing of 
 the misfortunes it brought upon the rest of Italy, 
 and all the provinces of the empire. 
 
 This business done, he was elected consul the 
 fourth time ; and the first thing he undertook 
 was to march into Spain against the sons of 
 Pompey, who, though young, had assembled a 
 numerous army, and showed a courage worthy 
 the command they had undertaken. The great 
 battle which put a period to that war was fought 
 under the walls of Munda. Caesar at first saw 
 his men so hard pressed, and making so feeble 
 a resistance, that he ran through the ranks, 
 amidst the swords and spears, crying, “ Are you 
 not ashamed to deliver your general into the 
 hands of boys?” The great and vigorous 
 efforts this reproach produced at last made the 
 enemy turn their backs, and there were more 
 than 30,000 of them slain, whereas Caesar lost 
 only 1000, but those were some of the best men 
 he had. As he retired after the battle, he told 
 his friends he had often fought for victory, but 
 that was the first time he had fought for his life. 
 
 He won this battle on the day of the Liberalia, 
 which was the same day that Pompey the Great 
 marched out, four years before. The younger of 
 Pompey’s sons made his escape ; the other was 
 taken by Didius, a few days after, who brought 
 his head to Caesar. 
 
 This was the last of his wars ; and his triumph 
 on account of it gave the Romans more pain 
 than any other step he had taken. He did not 
 now mount the car for having conquered foreign 
 generals or barbarian kings, but for ruining the 
 children, and destroying the race of one of the 
 greatest men Rome had ever produced, though 
 he proved at last unfortunate. All the world 
 condemned his triumphing in the calamities of 
 his country, and rejoicing in things which nothing 
 could excuse, either before the gods or men, but 
 extreme necessity. And it was the more obvious 
 to condemn it, because, before this, he had never 
 sent any messenger or letter to acquaint the 
 public with any victory he had gained in the 
 civil wars, but was rather ashamed of such ad- 
 vantages. The Romans, however, bowing to his 
 power, and submitting to the bridle, ^ because 
 they saw no other respite from intestine wars 
 and miseries, but the taking one man for their 
 master, created him dictator for life. This was 
 
 numbered the people, which had not been done 
 for forty-two years before. The second is, that, 
 before the civil wars broke out between Csesar 
 and Pompey, the number of the people in Rome 
 amounted to no more than 320,000 ; for long 
 before that it was much greater, and had con- 
 tinued upon the increase. The last is, where it 
 is asserted, that, in less than three years, those 
 320,000 were reduced, by that war, to 150,000 ; 
 the falsity of which assertion is evident from 
 this, that a little while after, Csesar made a 
 draught of 80,000, to be sent to foreign colonies. 
 But what is still stranger, eighteen years after, 
 Augustus took an account of the people, and 
 found the number amount to 4,063,000, as Sue- 
 tonius assures us. From a passage in the same 
 author (Life of Csesar, chap, iv.) these mistakes 
 of Plutarch took their rise. 
 
5o8 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 a complete tyranny ; for to absolute power they 
 added perpetuity. 
 
 Cicero was the first who proposed that the 
 senate should confer great honours upon Csesar, 
 but honours within the measure of humanity. 
 Those who followed contended with each other 
 which should make him the most extraordi- 
 nary compliments, and by the absurdity and 
 extravagance _ of their decrees, rendered him 
 odious and insupportable even to persons of 
 candour. His enemies are supposed to vie with 
 his flatterers in these sacrifices, that they might 
 have the better pretence, and the more cause, to 
 lift up their hands against him. This is probable 
 enough, because in other respects, after the civil 
 wars were brought to an end, his conduct was 
 irreproachable. It seems as if there was nothing 
 unreasonable in their ordering a temple to be 
 built to Clemency, in gratitude for the mercy 
 they had experienced in Csesar. For he not 
 only pardoned most of those who had appeared 
 against him in the field, but on some of them he 
 bestowed honours and preferments ; on Brutus 
 and Cassius for instance ; for they were both 
 prsetors. The statues of Pompey had been 
 thrown down, but he did not suffer them to lie 
 in that posture ; he erected them again. On 
 which occasion Cicero said that Csesar, by rear- 
 ing Pompey’s statues, had established his own. 
 
 His friends pressed him to have a guard, 
 and many offered to serve in that capacity, but 
 he would not suffer it ; for he said it was 
 better to die once, than to live always in fear 
 of death. He esteemed the affection of the 
 people the most honourable and the safest guard, 
 and therefore endeavoured to gain them by feasts 
 and distributions of corn, as he did the soldiers, 
 by placing them in agreeable colonies. The 
 most noted places that he colonized were Car- 
 thage and Corinth ; of which it is remarkable, 
 that as they; were both taken and demolished at 
 the same time, so they were at the same time 
 restored. 
 
 The nobility he gained by promising them 
 consulates and ^ prsetorships, or, if they were 
 engaged, by giving them other places of honour 
 and profit. To all he opened the prospects of 
 hope ; for he was desirous to reign over a willing 
 people. For this reason he was so studious to 
 oblige, that when Fabius Maximus died sud- 
 denly towards the close of his consulship, he 
 appointed Caninus Rebilius * consul for the day 
 that remained. Numbers went to pay their re- 
 spects to him, according to custom, and to con- 
 duct him to the senate-house ; on which occasion 
 Cicero said, “ Let us make haste and pay our 
 conipliments to the consul, before his office is 
 expired.'' 
 
 Csesar had such talents for great attempts, and 
 so vast an ambition, that the many actions he 
 had performed by no means induced him to sit 
 down and enjoy the glory he had acquired : they 
 rather whetted his appetite for other conquests, 
 produced new designs equally great, together 
 with equal confidence of success, and inspired 
 him with a passion for fresh renown, as if he had 
 exhausted all the pleasures of the old. This 
 passion was nothing but a jealousy of himself, 
 a contest with himself (as eager as if it had been 
 with another man) to make his future achieve- 
 
 * Macrobius calls him Rehilus, 
 
 ments outshine the past. In this spirit he had 
 formed a design, and was making preparations 
 for war against the Parthians. After he had 
 subdued them, he intended to traverse Hycrania, 
 and marching along by the Caspian Sea and 
 Mount Caucasus, to enter Scythia ; to carry his 
 conquering arms through the countries adjoining 
 to Germany, and through Germany itself ; and 
 then to return by Gaul to Rome ; thus finishing 
 the circle of the Roman empire, as well as ex- 
 tending its bounds to the ocean on every side. 
 
 During the preparations for this expedition, he 
 attempted to dig through the Isthmus of Corinth, 
 and committed the care of that work to Anienus. 
 He designed also to convey the Tiber by a deep 
 channel directly from Rome to Circaei, and so 
 into the sea near Tarracina, for the convenience 
 as well as security of merchants who traded to 
 Ronie. Another public spirited work that he 
 meditated was to_ drain all the marshes by No- 
 mentum and Setia, by which ground enough 
 would be gained from the water to employ many 
 thousands of hands in tillage. He proposed 
 farther to raise banks on the shore nearest Rome, 
 to prevent the sea from breaking in upon the 
 land ; to clear the Ostian shore of its secret and 
 dangerous obstructions, and to build harbours 
 fit to receive the many vessels that came in 
 there. These things were designed, but did not 
 take effect. 
 
 He completed, however, the regulation of the 
 calendar, and corrected the erroneous computa- 
 tion of time, agreeably to a plan which he had 
 ingeniously contrived, and which proved of the 
 greatest utility. For it was not only in ancient 
 times that the Roman months so ill agreed with 
 the revolution of the year, that the festival and 
 days of sacrifice, by little and little, fell back 
 into seasons quite opposite to those of their in- 
 stitution ; but even in the time of Caesar, when 
 the solar year was made use of, the generality 
 lived in perfect ignorance of the matter ; and the 
 priests, who were the only persons that knew 
 anything about it, used to add all at once, and 
 when nobody expected it, an intercalary month, 
 called MercidoniuSy of which Numa was the 
 inventor. That remedy, however, proved much 
 too weak, and was far from operating extensively 
 enough, to correct the great miscomputations 
 of time ; as we have observed in that prince’s life. 
 
 Caesar, having proposed the question to the 
 most able philosophers and mathematicians, pub- 
 lished, upon principles already verified, a new 
 and more exact regulation, which the Romans 
 still go by, and by that means are nearer the 
 truth than other nations with respect to the 
 difference between the sun’s revolution and that 
 of the twelve months. _ Yet this useful invention 
 furnished mater of ridicule to the envious, and 
 to those who could but ill brook his power. For 
 Cicero (if I mistake not), when some one happened 
 to say, Lyra will rise to-morrow,” answered, 
 
 “ Undoubtedly ; there is an edict for it : ” as if 
 the calendar was forced upon them, as well as 
 other things. 
 
 But the principal thing that excited the public 
 hatred, and at last caused his death, was his 
 passion for the title of king. It was the first 
 thing that gave offence to the multitude, and it 
 afforded his inveterate enemies a very plausible 
 plea. Those who wanted to procure him thaf 
 honour, gave it out am.ong the people, that it 
 
JULIUS 
 
 appeared, from the Sibylline books, the Romans 
 could never conquer the Parthians, except they 
 went to war under the conduct of a king. And 
 one day, when Caesar returned from Alba to 
 Rome, some of his retainers ventured to salute 
 him by that title. Observing that the people 
 were troubled at this strange compliment, he put 
 on an air of resentment, and said he was not 
 called king, but Caesar. Upon this, a deep silence 
 ensued, and he passed on in no good humour. 
 
 Another time the senate having decreed him 
 some extravagant honours, the consuls and 
 praetors, attended by the whole body of patri- 
 cians, went to inform him of what they had 
 done. When they came, he did not rise to 
 receive them, but kept his seat, as if they had 
 been persons in a private station, and his answer 
 to their address was, that there was more need 
 to retrench his honours than to enlarge them. 
 This haughtiness gave pain not only to the 
 senate, but the people, who thought the con- 
 tempt of that body reflected dishonour upon the 
 whole commonwealth : for all who could decently 
 withdraw, went off greatly dejected. 
 
 Perceiving the false step he had taken, he 
 retired immediately to his own house ; and laying 
 his neck bare, told his friends, he was ready 
 for the first hand that would strike. He then 
 bethought himself of alleging his distemper as an 
 excuse ; and asserted, that those who are under 
 its influence are apt to find their faculties fail 
 them, when they speak standing ; a trembling 
 and giddiness coming upon them, which bereaves 
 them of their senses. This, however, was not 
 really the case ; for it is said, he was desirous to 
 rise to the senate ; but Cornelius Balbus, one of 
 his friends, or rather flatterers, held him, and had 
 servility enough to say, “ Will you not remember 
 that you are Csesar, and suffer them to pay their 
 court to you as their superior ? ” 
 
 These discontents were greatly increased by the 
 indignity with which he treated the tribunes of 
 the people. In the Lupercalia^ which, according 
 to most writers, is an ancient pastoral feast, and 
 which answers in many respects to the Lyc^ 
 amongst the Arcadians, young men of nome 
 families, and indeed many of the magistrates, run 
 about the streets naked, and, by way of diversion, 
 strike all they meet with leathern thongs with the 
 hair upon them. Numbers of women of the first 
 quality put themselves in their way, and present 
 their hands for stripes (as scholars do to a master), 
 being persuaded that the pregnant gain an easy 
 delivery by it, and that the barren are enabled to 
 conceive. Cssar wore a triumphant robe that 
 day, and seated himself in a golden chair upon 
 the rostra, to see the ceremony. 
 
 Antony ran among the rest, in compliance with 
 the rules of the festival, for he was consul. ^Vhen 
 he came into the forum, and the crowd had made 
 way for him, he approached Csesar, and offered 
 him a diadem wreathed with laurel. Upon this, 
 some plaudits were heard, but very feeble, because 
 they proceeded only from persons placed there 
 on purpose. Caesar refused it, and then the plau- 
 dits were loud and generaL Antony presented it 
 once more, and few applauded his officiousness ; 
 but when Caesar rejected it again, the applause 
 again was general. Caesar, undeceived by his 
 second trial, rose up, suid ordered the diadem to 
 be consecrated in the Capitol. 
 
 A few days after, his statues w^ere seen adorned 
 
 C^SAR. 509 
 
 with royal diadems ; and Flavius and hlarullus, 
 two of the tribunes, went and tore them off. 
 They also found out the persons who first saluted 
 Caesar king, and committed them to prison. The 
 people followed wdth cheerful acclamations, and 
 called them Brutuses, because Brutus was the 
 man who expelled the kings, and put the govern- 
 ment in the hands of the senate and people. 
 Caesar, highly incensed at their behaviour, de- 
 posed the tribunes ; and b^^^ wa3’- of reprimand to 
 them, as well as insult to the people, called them 
 several times Brutes and Cu7iuEa7is. 
 
 Upon this, many applied to Marcus Brutus, 
 who, by the father’s side, was supposed to be a 
 descendant of that ancient Brutus, and whose 
 mother v.ms of the illustrious house of the Servilii. 
 He was also nephev/ and son-in-law to Cato. No 
 man w^as more inclined than he to lift his hand 
 against monarch3^, but he was withheld by the 
 honours and favours he had received from Csesar, 
 who had not only given him his life after the 
 defeat of Pompey at Pharsalia, and pardoned 
 many of his friends at his request, but continued 
 to honour him with his confidence. That very 
 year he had procured him the most honourable 
 pr^torship, and he had named him for the consul- 
 ship four j’ears after, in preference to Cassius, 
 who was his competitor. On w^hich occasion 
 Csesar is reported to have said, “ Cassius assigns 
 the strongest reasons, but I cannot refuse Brutus.” 
 
 Some impeached Brutus, after the conspiracy 
 was formed ; but, instead of listening to them, he 
 laid his hand on his body, and said, “ Brutus will 
 wait for this skin : ” intimating, that though the 
 virtue of Brutus rendered him worthy of empire, 
 he would not be guilty of any ingratitude or base- 
 ness to obtain it. Those, however, who were 
 desirous of a change, kept their eyes upon liim 
 only, or principally at least ; and as they durst 
 not speak out plain, they put billets night after 
 night in the tribunal and seat which he used as 
 praetor, mostly in these terms : “Tliou sleepest, 
 Brutus ; ” or, “ Thou art not Brutus.” 
 
 Cassius perceiving his friend’s ambition a little 
 stimulated by these papers, began to ply him 
 closer than before, and spur him on to tlje great 
 enterprise ; for he had a particular enmity against 
 Caesar, for the reasons which we have mentioned 
 in the life of Brutus. Caesar, too, had some 
 suspicion of him, and he even said one day to his 
 friends, “What think you of Cassius? I do not 
 like his pale looks.” Another time, when Antony" 
 and Dolabella were accused of some designs 
 against his person and government, he said, “ I 
 have no apprehensions from those fat and sleek 
 men ; I rather fear the pale and lean ones ; ” 
 meaming Cassius and Brutus. 
 
 It seems, from this instance, that fate is not so 
 secret as it is inevitable ; for we are told, there 
 were strong signs and presages of the death of 
 Caesar. As to the lights in the heavens, the 
 strange noises heard in various quarters by’- night, 
 and the appearance of solitary" birds in the foru77i, 
 perhaps they deserve not our notice in so great an 
 event as this. But some attention should be given 
 to Strabo the philosopher. According to him, 
 there were seen in the air men of fire encountering 
 each other ; such a flame appeared to issue from 
 the hand of a soldier’s servant, that all the spec- 
 tators thought it must be burned, y*et, when it 
 was over, he found no harm ; and one of the 
 victims which Caesar offered, was found \rithout 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIFTS. 
 
 a heart. The latter was certainly a most alarming 
 prodigy ; for, according to the rules of nature, no 
 creature can exist without a heart. What is still 
 more extraordinary, many report, that a certain 
 soothsayer forewarned him of a great danger 
 which threatened him on the ides of March, and 
 that when the day was come, as he was going to 
 the senate-house, he called to the soothsayer, 
 and said, laughing, “The ides of March are 
 come ; ” to which he answered, softly, “ Yes ; but 
 they are not gone.” 
 
 The evening before, he supped with Marcus 
 Lepidus, and signed, according to custom, a 
 number of letters, as he sat at table. While he 
 was so employed, there arose a question, what 
 kind of death was the best ; and Csesar answer- 
 ing before them all, cried out, “ A sudden one.” 
 The same night, as he was in bed with his wife, 
 the doors and windows of the room flew open at 
 once. Disturbed both with the noise and the 
 light, he observed, by moonshine, Calpurnia in 
 a deep sleep, uttering broken words and inarticu- 
 late groans. She dreamed that she was weep- 
 ing over him, as she held him, murdered, in 
 her arms. Others say, she dreamed that the* 
 pinnacle was fallen, which, as Lh*y tells us, 
 the senate had ordered to be erected upon 
 Csesar’s house, by way of ornament and dis- 
 tinction ; and that it was the fall of it which she 
 lamented and wept for. Be that as it may, the 
 next morning she conjured Caesar not to go out 
 that day, if he could possibly avoid it, but to 
 j adjourn the senate ; and, if he had no regard to 
 I her dreams, to have recourse to some other species 
 1 of divination, or to sacrifices, for information as to 
 } his fate. This gave him some suspicion and 
 alarm ; for he had never known before, in Cal- 
 pumia, anything of the weakness or superstition 
 of her sex, though she was now so much affected. 
 
 He therefore offered a number of sacrifices, 
 and, as the diviners found no auspicious tokens 
 in any of them, he sent Antony to dismiss the 
 senate. In the mean time, Decius Brutus, t sur- 
 named Albinus, came in. He was a person in 
 whom Csssar placed such confidence that he had 
 appointed him his second heir, yet he was en- 
 gaged in the conspiracy with the other Brutus 
 and Cassius. This man, fearing that if Caesar 
 adjourned the senate to another day the affair 
 might be discovered, laughed at the diviners, and 
 told Caesar he would be highly to blame, if, by 
 such a slight, he gave the senate an occasion of 
 complaint against him. For they were met, he 
 said, at his summons, and came prepared with 
 one voice to honour him with the title of king in 
 the provinces, and to grant that he should wear 
 the diadem both by land and sea everywhere out 
 of Italy. “ But if any one go and tell them, now 
 they have taken their places, they must go home 
 again, and return when Calpurnia happens to have 
 better dreams, what room will your enemies have 
 to launch out against you ! Or who will hear your 
 friends when they attempt to show, that this is 
 not an open servitude on the one hand, and 
 
 * The pinnacle was an ornament usually placed 
 upon the top of their temples, and was commonly 
 adorned with some statues of their gods, figures 
 of victory, or other symbolical device. 
 
 t Plutarch finding aZ> prefixed to Brutus, took 
 it for Decius; but his name was Decimtis Brutus. 
 See Appian and Suetonius. 
 
 tjnanny on the other?— -If you are absolutely 
 persuaded that this is an unlucky day, it is cer- 
 tainly better to go yourself, and tell them you 
 have strong reasons for putting off business till 
 another time.” So saying, he took Caesar by the 
 hand, and led him out. 
 
 He was not gone far from the door, when a 
 slave, who belonged to some other person, 
 attempted to get up to speak to him, but finding 
 it impossible, by reason of the crowd that w'as 
 about him, he made his way into the house, and 
 putting himself into the hands of Calpurnia, 
 desired her to keep him safe till Caesar’s return, 
 because he had matters of great importance to 
 communicate. 
 
 Artemidorus the Cnidian, who, by teaching the 
 Greek eloquence, became acquainted with some 
 of Brutus’s friends, and had got intelligence of 
 most of the transactions, approached Caesar with 
 a paper, explaining what he had to discover. 
 Observing that he gave the papers, as fast as he 
 received them, to his officers, he got up as close 
 as possible, and said, “ Caesar, read this to your- 
 self, and quickly : for it contains matters of great 
 consequence, and of the last concern to you.” 
 He took it and attempted several times to read it, 
 but was always prevented by one application or 
 other. He therefore kept that paper, and that 
 only in his hand, when he entered the house. 
 Some say, it was delivered to him by another 
 man,* Artemidorus being kept from approaching 
 him all the way by the crowd. 
 
 These things might, indeed, fall out by chance ; 
 but as in the place where the senate was that day 
 assembled, and which proved the scene of that 
 tragedy, there was a statue of Pompey, and it 
 w'as an edifice which Pompey had consecrated for 
 an ornament to his theatre, nothing can be clearer 
 than that some deity conducted the whole busi- 
 ness, and directed the execution of it to that very 
 spot. Even Cassius himself, though inclined to 
 the doctrines of Epicurus, turned his eye to the 
 statue of Pompey, and secretly invoked his aid, 
 before the great attempt. The arduous occasion, 
 it seems, overruled his former sentiments, and 
 laid him open to all the influence of enthusiasm. 
 Antony, who was a faithful friend to^ Cae.sar, and 
 a man of great strength, was held in discourse 
 without by Brutus Albinus, who had contrived a 
 long story to detain him. 
 
 When Csesar entered the house, the senate rose 
 to do him honour. Some of Brutus’s accomplices 
 came up behind his chair, and others before it, 
 pretending to intercede, along with Metillius 
 Cimber,t for the recall of his brother from exile. 
 They continued their instances till he came to his 
 seat. When he was seated he gave them a posi- 
 tive denial ; and as they continued their impor- 
 tunities with an air of compulsion, he grew angry. 
 Cimber,t then, with both hands, pulled his gowm 
 
 * By Caius Trebonius. So Plutarch says, in 
 the Life of Brutus ; Appian says the same ; and 
 Cicero too, in his second Philippic. 
 
 t Metillius is plainly a corruption. Suetonius 
 calls him Cimher Tullius. In Appian he is 
 named Antilius Cimber^ and there is a medal 
 which bears that name ; but that medal is be- 
 lieved to be spurious. Some call him Metellius 
 Cimber ; and others suppose we should read 
 M. Tullius Cimber 
 
 X Here in the original it is Metillius again. 
 
yULlUS C^SAR. Si I 
 
 off his neck, which was the signal for the attack. 
 Casca gave him the first blow. It was a stroke 
 upon the neck with his sword, but the wound was 
 not dangerous ; for in the beginning of so tre- 
 mendous an enterprise he was probably in some 
 disorder. Csesar therefore turned upon him, and 
 laid hold of his sword. At the same time they 
 both cried out, the one in Latin, “ Villairi ! 
 Casca ! what dost thou mean ? ” and the other in 
 Greek, to his brother, “ Brother, help \ ” 
 
 After such a beginning, those who knew no- 
 thing of the conspiracy were seized with conster- 
 nation and horror, insomuch that they durst 
 neither fly nor assist, nor even utter a word. All 
 the conspirators now drew their swords, and sur- 
 rounded him in such a manner, that whatever 
 way he turned, he saw nothing but steel gleam- 
 ing in his face, and met nothing but wounds. 
 Like some savage beast attacked by the hunters, 
 he found every hand lifted against him, for they 
 all agreed to have a share in the sacrifice and a 
 taste of his blood. Therefore Brutus himself 
 gave him a stroke in the groin. Some say, he 
 opposed the rest, and continued struggling and 
 crying out, till he perceived the sword of Brutus ; 
 then he drew his robe over his face, and yielded 
 to his fate. Either by accident, or pushed thither 
 by the conspirators, he expired on the pedestal of 
 Pompey’s statue, and dyed it with his blood : so 
 that Pompey seemed to preside over the work of 
 vengeance, to tread his enemy under his feet, and 
 to enjoy his agonies. Those agonies were great, 
 for he received no less than three and twenty 
 wounds. And many of the conspirators wounded 
 each other, as they were aiming their blows at 
 him. 
 
 Caesar thus despatched, Brutus advanced to 
 speak to the senate, and to assign his reasons for 
 what he had done, but they could not bear to 
 hear him ; they fled out of the house, and filled 
 the people with inexpressible horror and dismay. 
 Some shut up their houses ; others left their 
 shops and counters. All were in motion : one 
 was running to see the spectacle ; another run- 
 ning back. Antony and Lepidus, Cmsar’s prin- 
 cipal friends, withdrew, and hid themselves in 
 other people’s houses. Meantime Brutus and 
 his confederates, yet warm from the slaughter, 
 marched in a body with their bloody swords in 
 their hands, from the senate-house to the Capitol, 
 not like men that fled, but with an air of gaiety 
 and confidence, calling the people to liberty, and 
 stopping to talk with every man of consequence 
 whom they met. There were some who even 
 joined them, and mingled with their train ; de- 
 sirous of appearing to have had a share in the 
 action, and hoping for one in the glory. Of this 
 number were Caius Octavius and Lentulus 
 Spinther, who afterwards paid dear for their 
 vanity ; being put to death by Antony and young 
 Csesar. So that they gained not even the honour 
 for which they lost their lives ; for nobody be- 
 lieved that they had any part in the enterprise ; 
 and they were punished, not for the deed, but for 
 the will. 
 
 Next day Brutus, and the rest of the con- 
 spirators, came down from the Capitol, and 
 addressed the people, who attended to their 
 discourse without expressing either dislike or 
 approbation of what was done. But by their 
 silence it appeared that they pitied Csesar, at the 
 same time that they revered Brutus. The senate 
 
 passed a general amnesty ; and, to reconcile all 
 parties, they decreed Csesar divine honours, and 
 confirmed all the acts of his dictatorship ; while 
 on Brutus and his friends they bestowed govern- 
 ments, and such honours as were suitable : so 
 that it was generally imagined the commonwealth 
 was firmly established again, and all brought into 
 the best order. 
 
 But when, upon the opening of Csesar’s will, it 
 was found that he had left every Roman citizen a 
 considerable legacy, and they beheld the body, as 
 it was carried through the forum, all mangled 
 with wounds, the multitude could no longer be 
 kept within bounds. They stopped the procession, 
 and tearing up the benches, with the doors and 
 tables, heaped them into a pile, and burned the 
 corpse there. Then snatching flaming brands 
 from the pile, some ran to burn the houses of the j 
 assassins, while others ranged the city, to find 
 the conspirators themselves, and tear them in 
 pieces ; but they had taken such care to secure 
 themselves that they could not meet with one of 
 them. 
 
 One Cinna, a friend of Csesar’s, had a strange 
 dream the preceding night. He dreamed (as 
 they tell us) that Csesar invited him to supper, 
 and, upon his refusal to go, caught him by the 
 hand, and drew him after him, in spite of all the 
 resistance he could make. Hearing, however, 
 that the body of Caesar was to be burned in the 
 forum, he went to assi.st in doing him the last 
 honours, though he had a fever upon him, the 
 consequence of his uneasiness about his dream. 
 On his coming up, one of the populace asked who 
 that was, and having learned his name, told it to 
 his next neighbour. A report immediately spread 
 through the whole company, that it was one of 
 Caesar’s murderers ; and, indeed, one of the con- 
 spirators was named Cinna. The_ multitude, 
 taking this for the man, fell upon him, and tore 
 him to pieces upon the spot. Brutus and Cassius 
 were so terrified at this rage of the populace that, 
 a few days after, they left the city. An account 
 of their subsequent actions, sufferings, and death, 
 may be found in the life of Brutus. 
 
 Caesar died at the age of fifty-six, and did not 
 survive Pompey above four years. His object 
 was sovereign power and authority, which he 
 pursued through innumerable dangers, and by 
 prodigious efforts he gained it at last. But he 
 reaped no other fruit from it than an empty and 
 invidious title. It is true the Divine power, 
 which conducted him through life, attended him 
 after his death as his avenger, pursued and 
 hunted out the assassins over sea and land, and 
 rested not till there was not a man left, either of 
 those who dipped their hands in his blood or of 
 those who gave their sanction to the deed. 
 
 The most remarkable of natural events relative 
 to this affair was, that Cassius, after he had lost 
 the battle of Philippi, killed himself with the 
 same dagger which he had made use of against 
 Csesar ; and the most signal phenomenon in the 
 heavens was that of a great comet,* which shone 
 
 * “A comet made its appearance in the north, 
 while we were celebrating the games in honour of 
 Csesar, and shone bright for seven days. It 
 arose about the eleventh hour of the day, and 
 was seen by all nations. It was commonly be- 
 lieved to be a sign that the soul of Csesar was 
 admitted among the gods ; for which reason we 
 
512 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 very bright for seven nights after Caesar’s death, 
 and then disappeared. To which we may add 
 the fading of the sun’s lustre ; for his orb looked 
 pale all that year ; he rose not with a sparkling 
 radiance, nor had the heat he afforded its usual 
 strength. The air of course, was dark and 
 heavy, for want of that vigorous heat which 
 clears and rarifies it ; and the fruits were so 
 crude and unconcocted that they pined away 
 and decayed, through the chillness of the atmo- 
 sphere. 
 
 We have a proof still more striking that the as- 
 pssination of Caesar was displeasing to the gods, 
 in the phantom that appeared to Brutus. The 
 story of it is this : Brutus was on the point of 
 transporting his army from Abydos to the opposite 
 continent ; and the night before he lay in his tent, 
 awake, according to custom, and in deep thought 
 about wha.t might be the event of the war ; for it 
 was natural for him to watch great part of the 
 night, and no general ever required so little sleep. 
 With all his senses about him, he heard a noise 
 at the door of his tent, and looking towards the 
 light, which was now burned very low, he saw a 
 terrible appearance in the human form, but of 
 prodigious stature and the most hideous aspect. 
 At first he was struck with astonishment; but 
 when he saw it neither did nor spoke anything to 
 him, but stood in silence by his bed, he asked it 
 who it was. The spectre answered, I am thy 
 evil genius, Brutus; thou shalt see me at Phi- 
 lippi.'' Brutus answered boldly, “ I’ll meet thee 
 there ; ” and the spectre immediately vanished. 
 
 Some time after, he engaged Antony and 
 Octavius Csesar at Philippi, and the first day 
 was victorious, carrying all before him where he 
 
 fought in person, and even, pillaging Ctcsar’s 
 camp. The night before he was to fight the 
 second battle, the same spectre appeared to him 
 again, but spoke not a word. Brutus, however, 
 understood that his last hour was near, and 
 courted danger with all the violence of despair. 
 Yet he did not fall in the action ; but seeing all 
 was lost, he retired to the top of a rock, where 
 he presented his naked sword to his breast, and 
 a friend, as they tell us, assisting the thrust, he 
 died upon the spot.* 
 
 added a star to the head of his statue consecrated 
 soon after in forum'" — Fragm. Aug. C.<es. 
 
 ap. Plin. 1 . ii. c. 25. 
 
 * Whatever Plutarch’s motive may have been, 
 it is certain that he has given us a very inadequate 
 and imperfect idea of the character of Caesar. 
 The life he has written is a confused jumble of 
 facts, snatched from different historians, without 
 order, consistency, regularity, or accuracy. He 
 has left us none of those finer and minuter traits, 
 which, as he elsewhere justly observes, distinguish 
 and characterise the man more than his most 
 popular and splendid operations. He has written 
 the life of Caesar like a man under restraint ; has 
 skimmed over his actions, and shown a manifest 
 satisfaction when he could draw the attention of 
 the reader to other characters and circumstances, 
 however insignificant, or how often soever re- 
 peated by himself, in the narrative of other lives. 
 Yet from the little light he has afforded us, and 
 •from the_ better accounts of other historians, we 
 may easily discover, that Csesar was a man of 
 great and distinguished virtues. Had he been 
 as able in his political as he was in his military 
 capacity, had he been capable of hiding, or 
 even of managing that openness of mind, which 
 was the connate attendant of his liberality and 
 ambition, the last prevailing passion would not 
 have blinded him so far as to put so earl}^ a period 
 to his race of glor}’-. 
 
 PHOCION. 
 
 Demades the orator, by studying in his whole 
 administration to please the Macedonians and 
 Antipater, had great authority in Athens. When 
 he found himself by that complaisance often 
 obliged to propose laws and make speeches in- 
 jurious to the dignity and virtue of his country, 
 he used to say he was excusable, because he 
 came to the helm when the commonwealth was 
 no more than a wreck. This assertion, which in 
 him was unwarrantable, was true enough when 
 applied to the administration of Phocion. De- 
 mades was the very man who wrecked his country. 
 He pursued such a vicious plan both in his 
 private and public conduct, that Antipater 
 scrupled not to say of him, when he was grown 
 old, that he was like a sacrificed beast, all con- 
 sumed except his tongue and his paunch. f But 
 the virtue of Phocion found a strong and powerful 
 
 The tongue and the paunch were not burned 
 vuth the rest of the victim. The paunch used to 
 be stuffed and served up at table, and the tongue 
 was burned on the altar at the end of the enter- 
 tainment in honour of Mercury, and had libations 
 pomed upon it. Of this there are many examples 
 in Homer’s Odyssey. 
 
 adversary in the times, and its glory was obscured 
 in the_ gloomy period of Greece’s misfortunes. 
 For Virtue is not so weak as Sophocles would 
 make her, nor is the sentiment just which he puts 
 in the mouth of one of the persons of his drama — 
 
 The firmest mind will fail 
 Beneath misfortune’s stroke, and, stunn’d, depart 
 From its sage plan of action. J 
 
 All the advantage that Fortune can truly be 
 affirmed to gain in her combats with the good 
 and virtuous is, the bringing upon them unjust 
 reproach and censure, instead of the honour 
 and esteem which are their due, and by that 
 means lessening the confidence the world would 
 have in their virtue. 
 
 It is imagined, indeed, that ivhen affairs 
 prosper, the people, elated with their strength 
 and success, behave with greater insolence to 
 good ministers ; but it is the very reverse. Mis- 
 fortunes _ always sour their temper ; the least 
 thing will then disturb them ; they take fire at 
 trifles ; and they are impatient of the least 
 severity of expression. He who reproves their 
 
 X SOPHOC. Antig. 1 . 569, and 570. 
 
PIIOCION, 513 
 
 faults, seems to reproach them with their mis- 
 fortunes, and every bold and free address is con- 
 sidered as an insult. As honey makes a wounded 
 or ulcerated member smart, so it often happens, 
 that a remonstrance, though pregnant with truth 
 and sense, hurts and irritates the distressed, if it 
 is not gentle and mild in the application. Hence 
 Homer often expresses such things as are plea- 
 sant, by the word 7uenoikes, which signifies what 
 is sy7uphonious to the 7}iind, which soothes its 
 weakness, and bears not hard upon its inclina- 
 tions. Inflamed eyes love to dwell upon dark 
 brown colours, and avoid such as are bright and 
 glaring. So it is with a state, in any series of ill- 
 conducted and unprosperous measures ; such is 
 the feeble and relaxed condition of its nerves, 
 that it cannot bear the least alarm ; the voice of 
 truth, which brings its faults to its remem.brance, 
 gives it inexpressible pain, though not only salu- 
 tary, but necessary ; and it will not be heard, 
 except its harshness is modified. It is a difficult 
 task to govern such a people ; for if the man who 
 tells them the truth falls the first sacrifice, he 
 who flatters them at last perishes with them. 
 
 The mathematicians say, the sun does not move 
 in the same direction with the heavens, nor yet in 
 a direction quite opposite, but circulating with a 
 gentle and almost insensible obliquity, gives the 
 whole system such a temperature as tends to its 
 preservation. So in a system of government, if a 
 statesman is determined to describe a straight 
 line, and in all things to go against the inclina- 
 tions of the people, such rigour must make his 
 administration odious ; and, on the other hand, 
 if he suffers himself to be carried along with their 
 most erroneous motions, the government will 
 soon be in a tottering and ruinous state. The 
 latter is the more common error of the two. But 
 tl;e politics which keep a middle course, some- 
 times slackening the reins, and sometimes keeping 
 a tighter hand, indulging the people in one point 
 to gain another that is more important, are the 
 only measures that are formed upon rational 
 principles : for a well-timed condescension and 
 moderate treatment will bring men to concur 
 in many useful schemes, which they could not 
 be brought into by despotism and violence. It 
 must be acknowledged, that this medium is diffi- 
 cult to hit upon, because it requires a mixture 
 of dignity with gentleness; but when the just 
 temperature is gained, it presents the happiest 
 and most perfect harmony that can be conceived. 
 It is by this sublime harmony the Supreme Being 
 governs the world ; for nature is not dragged into 
 obedience to his commands, and though his in- 
 fluence is irresistible, it is rational and mild. 
 
 The effects of austerity were seen in the younger 
 Cato. There was nothing engaging or popular 
 in his behaviour ; he never studied to oblige the 
 people, and therefore his weight in the administra- 
 tion was not great. Cicero says, he acted as if 
 he had lived in the commonwealth of Plato, not 
 in the dregs of Romulus, and by that means fell 
 short of the consulate.* Plis case appears to me 
 to have been the same with that of fruit which 
 
 * The passage here referred to is in the first 
 epistle of Cicero’s second book to Atticus. But 
 we find nothing there of the* repulse Cato met 
 with in his application for the consulship. That 
 repulse, indeed, did not happen till eight years 
 after the date of that epistle. 
 
 comes out of season : people look upon it with 
 pleasure and admiration, but they make no use 
 of it. Thus the old-fashioned virtue of Cato, 
 making its appearance amidst the luxury and 
 corruption which time had introduced, had all 
 the splendour of reputation which such a 
 phenomenon could claim, but it did not answer 
 the exigencies of the state ; it was disproportioned 
 to the times, and too ponderous and unwieldy for 
 use. Indeed, his circumstances were not alto- 
 gether like those of Phocion, who came not into 
 the administration till the state was sinking ; * 
 whereas Cato had only to save the ship beating 
 about in the storm. At the same time we must 
 allow that he had not the principal direction of 
 her ; he sat not at the helm ; he could do no 
 more than help to hand the sails and the tackle. 
 Yet he maintained a noble conflict with Fortune, 
 who having determined to ruin the common- 
 wealth, effected it by a variety of hands, but 
 with great difficulty, by slow steps^ and gradual 
 advances. So near was Rome being saved by 
 Cato and Cato’s virtue ! With it we would com- 
 pare that of Phocion : not in a general manner, so 
 as to say they were both persons of integrity and 
 able statesman ; for there is a difference between 
 valour and valour, for instance, between that of 
 Alcibiades and that of Epaminondas ; the pru- 
 dence of Themistocles and that cf Aristides 
 were not the same ; justice was of one kind in 
 Numa, and in Agesilaus of another : but the 
 virtues of Phocion and Cato were the same in the 
 most minute particular; their impression, form 
 and colour, are perfectly similar. Thus their 
 severity of manner was equally tempered with 
 humanity, and their valour with caution ; they 
 had the same solicitude for others, and disregard 
 for themselves ; the same abhorrence of everything 
 base and dishonourable, and the same firm attach- 
 ment to justice on all occasions : so that it requires 
 a very delicate expression, like the finely dis- 
 criminated sounds of the organ,! to mark the 
 difference in their characters. 
 
 It is universally agreed, 'that Cato was of an 
 illustrious pedigree, which we shall give some 
 account of in his life; and \ve conjecture, that 
 Phocion’s was not mean or obscure ; for had 
 he been the son of a turner, it would certainly 
 have been mentioned by Glaucippus, the son of 
 Hyperides, among a thousand other things, in 
 the treatise which he wrote on purpose to dis- 
 parage him. Nor, if his birth had been so low, 
 would he have had so good an education, or such 
 a liberal mind and manners. It is certain that, 
 when very young, he was in tuition with Plato, 
 and afterwards with Xenocrates in the academy ; 
 and from the very first, he distinguished himself 
 by his strong application to the most valuable 
 studies. Duris tells us, the Athenians never saw 
 him either laugh or cry, or make use of a public 
 
 * Our author means, that uncommon and ex- 
 traordinary efforts were more necessary to save 
 the poor remains of a wreck, than to keep a ship, 
 yet whole and entire, from sinking. 
 
 t The organ here mentioned was probably that 
 invented by Ctesibius, who, according to Athe- 
 nseus, placed in the temple of Zephyrus, at 
 Alexandria, a tube, which, collecting air by the 
 appulsive motion of water, emitted musical 
 sounds, either by their strength adapted to war, 
 or by their lightness to festivity. 
 
 2 Iv 
 
514 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 bath, or put his hand from under his cloak when 
 he was dressed to appear in public. If he made 
 an excursion into the country, or marched out to 
 war, he went always barefooted, and without his 
 upper garment too, except it happened to be 
 intolerably cold ; and then his soldiers used to 
 laugh, and say, “ It is a sign of a sharp winter ; 
 Phocion has got his clothes on.” 
 
 He was one of the most humane and best 
 tempered men in the world, and yet he had so 
 ill-natured and forbidding a look, that strangers 
 were afraid to address him without company. 
 Therefore, when Chares, the orator, observed to 
 the Athenians w'hat terrible brows Phocion had, 
 and they could not help making themselves 
 merry, he said, “This brow of mine never gave 
 one of 3"ou an hour of sorrow ; but the laughter 
 of these sneerers has cost their country many a 
 tear.” In like manner, though the measures he 
 proposed were happy ones, and his counsels of 
 the most salutary kind, yet he used no flowers of 
 rhetoric ; his speeches were concise, commanding, 
 and severe, h’or, as Zeno says, that a philosopher 
 should never let a word come out of his mouth 
 that is not strongly tinctured with sense ; so 
 Phocion’s oratory contained the most sense in the 
 fewest wmrds. And it seems that Polyeuctus, 
 the Sphettian, had this in view w'hen he said, 
 Demosthenes v/as the better orator, and Phocion 
 the more persuasive speaker. His speeches were 
 to be estimated like coins, not for the size, but 
 for the intrinsic value. Agreeably to which, we 
 are told, that one day when the theatre was full 
 of people, Phocion was observed behind the 
 scenes wrapped up in thought, when one of his 
 friends took occasion to say, “ \V^hat ! at ^mur 
 meditations, Phocion?” “ Yes,” said he, “ I am 
 considering whether I cannot shorten what I have 
 to say to the Athenians.” And Demosthenes, 
 who despised the other orators, when Phocion 
 got up, used to say to his friends softly, “ Here 
 comes the praner of my periods.” But perhaps 
 this is to be ascribed to the excellence of his 
 character, since a word or a nod from a person 
 revered for his virtue is of more weight than the 
 most elaborate speeches of other men. 
 
 In his youth he served under Chabrias, then 
 commander of the Athenian armies ; and, as he 
 paid him all proper attention, he gained much 
 military knowledge by him. In some degree too 
 he helped to correct the temper oi Chabrias, w^hich 
 was impetuous and uneven. For that general, 
 though at other times scarce anything could move 
 him, in time of action wms violent, and exposed 
 his person with a boldness ungovemed by dis- 
 cretion. At last it cost him h^s life, when he 
 made it a point to get in before the other galleys 
 to the isle of Chios, and attempted to make good 
 his landing by dint of sword. Phocion, whose 
 prudence was equal to his courage, animated him 
 when he was too slow in his operations, and 
 endeavoured to bring him to act coolly when he 
 was unseasonably violent. This gained him the 
 affection of Chabrias, who was a man of candour 
 and probity; and he assigned him commissions 
 and enterprises of great importance, which raised 
 him to the notice of the Greeks. Particularly in 
 the sea-fight off Naxos, Phocion being appointed 
 to head the squadron on the left, where the action 
 was hottest, had a fine opportunity to distinguish 
 himself, and he made such use of it that victory 
 soon declared for the Athenians ; and as this was 
 
 the first victory they had gained at sea, in a dis- 
 pute with Greeks, since the taking of their city, 
 they expressed the highest regard for Chabrias, 
 and began to consider Phocion as a person in 
 whom they should one day find an able com- 
 mander. This battle was won during the cele- 
 bration of the great inysteries : and Chabrias, 
 in commemoration of it, annually treated the 
 Athenians with wine on the sixteenth day of 
 September. 
 
 Some time after this, Chabrias sent Phocion to 
 the islands, to demand their contributions, and 
 offered him a guard of twenty sail. But Phocion 
 said, “If you send me against enemies, such a 
 fleet is too small ; if to friends, one ship is suffi- 
 cient.” He therefore went in his own galley, and 
 by addressing himself to the cities and magis- 
 trates in an open and humane manner, he sue- ’ 
 ceeded so well as to return with a number of i 
 ships \vhich the allies fitted out, and at the same | 
 time put their respective quotas of money on | 
 board. ' 
 
 Phocion not only honoured and paid his court ^ 
 to Chabrias as long as he lived, but, after his ^ 
 death, continued his attentions to all that be- ! 
 longed to him. With his son Ctesippus he took 
 peculiar care to form him to virtue ; and though j 
 he found him very stupid and untractable, yet he j 
 still laboured to correct his errors, as well as to i 
 conceal them. Once, indeed, his patience failed 
 him. In one of his expeditions the young man i 
 was so troublesome with unseasonable questions, ! 
 and attempts to give advice, as if he knew how ' 
 to direct the operations better than the general, ' 
 that at last he cried out, “ O Chabrias, Chabrias ! 
 what a return do I make thee for thy favours, in , 
 bearing with the impertinencies of thy son.” ' 
 
 He observed, that those who took upon them j 
 the management of public affairs, made tvvo de- : 
 partments of them, the civil and the militar3', 
 which they shared as it were by lot. Pursuant 
 to this division, Eubulus, Aristophon, Demos- 
 thenes, Lycurgus, and Hyperides, addressed the ; 
 people from the rostrum, and proposed new : 
 edicts ; while Diophites, Menestheus, Leosthenes, i 
 and Chares, raised themselves by the honours ^ 
 and emplo3'ments of the camp. But Phocion j 
 chose rather to move in the walk of Pericles, I 
 Aristides, and Solon, who excelled not only as j 
 orators, but as generals ; for he thought their 
 fame more complete ; each of these great men (to 
 use the words of Archilochus) appearing justly to 
 claim — 
 
 The palms of I\Iars, and laurels of the muse : 
 
 and he knew that the tutelar goddess of Athens 
 was equally the patroness of arts and arms. 
 
 Formed upon these models, peace and tran- 
 quility v/ere the great objects he had always in 
 view ; yet he was engaged in more wars than any 
 person, either of his own, or of the preceding 
 times. Not that he courted, or even applied for 
 the command ; but he did not decline it v/hen 
 called to that honour by his countrymen. It is 
 certain, he was elected general no less than five 
 and forty times, without once attending to the 
 election ; being always appointed in his absence, 
 at the free motion of his countrymen. Men of 
 shallow understanding were surprised that the 
 people should set such a value on Phocion, who 
 generally opposed their inclinations, and never 
 said or did anything with a view to recommend 
 
PHOCION. 
 
 515 
 
 himself. For, as princes divert themselves at 
 their meals with buffoons and jesters, so the 
 Athenians attended to the polite and agreeable 
 addresses of their orators by way of entertain- 
 ment only ; but when the question was concern- 
 ing so important a business as the command of 
 their forces, they returned to sober and serious 
 thinking, and selected the wisest citizen, and the 
 man of the severest manners, who had combated 
 their capricious humours and desires the most. 
 This he scrupled not to avow ; for one day, when 
 an oracle from Delphi v/as read in the assembly, 
 importing that the rest of the Athenians were 
 unanimous in their opinions, and that there was 
 only one man who dissented from them, Phocion 
 stepped up and told them they need not give 
 themseDes any trouble in inquiring for this re- 
 f-actory citizen, for he was the man who liked 
 not anything they did. And another time in a 
 public debate, when his opinion happened to be 
 received with universal applause, he turned to 
 his friends, and said, “ Have I inadvertently let 
 some bad thing slip from me ? ” 
 
 The Athenians were one day making a collec- 
 tion, to defray the charge of a public sacrifice, 
 and numbers gave liberally. Phocion was impor- 
 tuned to contribute among the rest : but he bade 
 them apply to the rich : “ I should be ashamed,” 
 said he, “ to give you anything, and not to pay 
 this man what I owe him ; ” pointing to the 
 usurer Callicles. And as they continued very 
 clamorous and teasing, he told them this tale : 
 
 A cowardly fellow once resolved to make a 
 campaign ; but when he was set out, the ravens 
 began to croak, and he laid down his arms and 
 stopped. When the first alarm was a little over, 
 he marched again. The ravens renewed their 
 croaking, and then he made a full stop, and said. 
 You may croak jmur hearts out if you please, 
 but you shall not taste my carcase.” 
 
 The Athenians once insisted on his leading 
 them against the enemy, and when he refused, 
 they told him, nothing could be more dastardly 
 and spiritless than his behaviour. He answered, 
 “ You can neither make me valiant, nor can I 
 make you cowards : however, we know one 
 another very well.” 
 
 Public affairs happening to be in a dangerous 
 situation, the people were greatly exasperated 
 against him, and demanded an immediate account 
 of his conduct. Upon which, he only said, “ My 
 good friends, first get out of your difficulties.” 
 
 During a war, however, they were generally 
 humble and submissive, and it was not till after 
 peace was made, that they began to talk in a 
 vaunting manner, and to find fault with their 
 general. As they were one time telling Phocion, 
 he had robbed them of the victory which was in 
 their hands, he said, “ It is happy for you that 
 you have a general who knows you ; otherwise 
 you w'ould have been ruined long ago.” 
 
 Having a difference with the Boeotians, which 
 they refused to settle by treaty, and proposed to 
 decide by the sword, Phocion said, “ Good 
 people, keep to the method in which you have 
 the advantage ; and that is talking, not fight- 
 ing.” 
 
 One day, determined not to follow his advice, 
 they refused to give him the hearing. But he 
 said, “ Though you can make me act against my 
 judgment, you shall never make me speak so.” 
 
 Demosthenes, one of the orators of the adverse 
 
 party, happening to say, “The Athenians will 
 certainly kill thee, Phocion, some time or other : ” 
 he answered, “ They may kill me, if they are 
 mad ; but it will be yo2t, if they are in their 
 senses.” 
 
 When Polyeuctus, the Sphettian, advised the 
 Athenians to make war upon Philip, the weather 
 being hot, and the orator a corpulent man, he 
 ran himself out of breath, and perspired so 
 violently, that he was forced to take several 
 draughts of cold water, before he could finish his 
 speech. Phocion, seeing him in such a condition, 
 thus addressed the assembly, “You have great 
 reason to pass an edict for the war, upon this 
 man’s recommendation. For what are you not 
 to expect from him, when loaded with a suit of 
 armour he marches against the enemy, if in de- 
 livering to you (peaceable folks) a speech which 
 he had composed at his leisure, he is ready to be 
 suffocated.” 
 
 Lycurgus, the orator, one day said many dis- 
 paraging things of him in the general assembly, 
 and, among the rest, observed, that when Alex- 
 ander demanded ten of their orators, Phocion 
 gave it as his opinion, that they should be de- 
 livered to him. “ It is true,” said Phocion, “ I 
 have given the people of Athens much good 
 counsel, but they do not follow it.” 
 
 There was then in Athens one Archibiades, who 
 got the name of Laconistes, by letting his beard 
 grow long, in the Lacedaemonian manner, wear- 
 ing a threadbare cloak, and keeping a very grave 
 countenance. Phocion finding one of his asser- 
 tions much contradicted in the assembly, called 
 upon this man to support the truth and rectitude 
 of what he had said. Archibiades, however, 
 ranged himself on the people’s side, and advised 
 what he thought agreeable to them. Then 
 Phocion, taking him by the beard, said, “ What 
 is all this heap of hair for ? Cut it, cut it off.” 
 
 Aristogiton, a public informer, paraded with 
 his pretended valour before the people, and 
 pressed them much to declare war. But when the 
 lists came to be made out, of those that were to 
 ser\*e, this swaggerer had got his leg bound up, 
 and a crutch under his arm. ^ Phocion, as he sat 
 upon the business, seeing him at some distance 
 in this form, called out to his secretary, to put 
 down Aristogiton “ a cripple and a coward.” 
 
 All these sayings have something so severe in 
 them that it seems strange that a man of such 
 austere and unpopular manners should ever get 
 the surname of the Good. It is indeed difficult, 
 but, I believe, not impossible, for the same man 
 to be both rough and gentle, as some wines are 
 both sweet and sour : and on the other hand, 
 some men who have a great appearance of gentle- 
 ness in their temper, are very harsh and vexatious 
 to those who have to do with them. In this 
 case, the saying of Hyperides to the people of 
 Athens deserves notice : “ Examine not whether 
 I am severe upon you, but whether I am so for 
 my owm sake.” As if it were avarice only that 
 makes a minister odious to the people, and the 
 abuse of power to the purposes of pride, env3% 
 anger, or revenge, did not make a man eoually 
 obnoxious. 
 
 As to Phocion, he never exerted himself 
 against any man in his private capacity, or con- 
 sidered him as an enemy ; but he was inflexibly 
 severe against every man who ^ opposed his 
 motions and designs for the public good. His 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 516 
 
 behaviour, in other respects, was liberal, bene- 
 volent, and humane; the unfortunate he was 
 alwaj's ready to assist, and he pleaded even for 
 his enemy, it he happened to be in danger. His 
 friends, one day, finding fault with him for ap- 
 pearing in behalf of a man whose conduct did 
 not deserve it ; he said, “ The good have no need 
 of an advocate.” Aristogiton, the informer, being 
 condemned, and committed to prison, begged the 
 favour of Phocion to go and speak to him, and 
 he hearkened to his application. His friends 
 dissuaded him from it, but he said, ‘ ‘ Let me 
 alone, good people. Where can one rather wish 
 to speak to Aristogiton than in a prison ? ” 
 
 When the Athenians sent out their fleets under 
 any other commander, the maritime towns and 
 islands in alliance with that people, looked upon 
 every such commander as an enemy ; they 
 strengthened their walls, shut up their harbours, 
 and conveyed the cattle, the slaves, the women 
 and children, out of the country into the cities. 
 But when Phocion had the command, the same 
 people went out to meet him in their owm ships, 
 with chaplets on their heads and ever}’’ expression 
 of joy, and in that manner conducted them into 
 their cities. 
 
 Philip endeavoured privately to get footing in 
 Euboea, and for that purpose sent in forces from 
 jMacedon, as well as practised upon the towns by 
 means of the petty princes. Hereupon, Plutarch 
 of Eretria called in the Athenians, and entreated 
 them to rescue the island out of the hands of the 
 hlacedonians : in consequence of which they sent 
 Phocion at first wdth a small body of troops, ex- 
 pecting that the Euboeans would immediately 
 rise and join him. But when he came, he found 
 nothing among thep but treasonable designs and 
 disaffection to the^ own country, for they were 
 corrupted by Philip’s money. For this reason, 
 he seized an eminence separated from the plains 
 of Tamynae by a deep defile, and in that post he 
 secured the best of his troops. As for the dis- 
 orderly, the talkative, and cowardly part of the 
 soldiers, if they attempted to desert and steal 
 out of the camp, he ordered the officers to let 
 them go. ‘‘For,” said he, “if they stay here, 
 such is their want of discipline that, instead of 
 being serviceable, they will be prejudicial in 
 time of action ; and, as they will be conscious 
 to themselves of flying from their colours, we 
 shall not have so much noise and calumny from 
 them in Athens.” 
 
 Upon the approach of the enemy, he ordered 
 his men to stand to their arms, but not attempt 
 anything till he had made an end of his sacrifice : 
 and, whether it was that he wanted to gain time, 
 or could not easily find the auspicious tokens, or 
 w'as desirous of drawing the enemy nearer to 
 him, he was long about it. Meanwhile Plutarch, 
 imagining that this delay was owing to his fear 
 and irresolution, charged at the head of the 
 mercenaries : and the cavalry seeing him in 
 motion, could wait no longer, but advanced 
 against the enemy, though in a scattered and 
 disorderly manner, as they happened to issue out 
 of the camp. The first line being soon broken, 
 all the rest dispersed, and Plutarch himself fled. 
 A detachment from the enemy then attacked the 
 entrenchments, and endeavoured to make a 
 breach in them, supposing that the fate of the 
 day was decided. But at that instant Phocion 
 had finished his sacrifice, and the Athenians 
 
 sallying out of the camp, fell upon the assailants, 
 routed them, and cut most of them in pieces in 
 the trenches. Phocion then gave the main body 
 directions to keep their ground, in order to re- 
 ceive and cover such as were dispersed in the 
 first attack, while he, with a select party, went 
 and charged the enemy. A sharp conflict ensued, 
 both sides behaving with ^eat spirit and intre- 
 pidity. Among the Athenians, Thallus the son 
 of Cineas, and Glaucus the son' of Polymedes, 
 w’ho fought near the general’s person, distin- 
 guished themselves the most. Cleophanes, too, 
 did great service in the action : for he rallied the 
 cavalr}’’, and brought them up again, by calling 
 after them, and insisting that they should come 
 to the assistance of their general, wffio was in 
 danger. They returned, therefore, to the charge ; 
 and by the assistance which they gave the in- 
 fantry, secured the victory. 
 
 Phocion, after the battle, drove Plutarch out 
 of Eretria, and made himself master of Zaretra, 
 a fort, advantageously situated where the island 
 draws to a point, and the neck of land is de- 
 fended on each side by the sea. He did not 
 choose, in pursuance of his victory, to take the 
 Greeks prisoners, lest the Athenians, influenced 
 by their orators, should, in the first motions of 
 resentment, pass some unequitable sentence upon 
 them. 
 
 After this great success, he sailed back to 
 Athens. The allies soon found the want of his 
 goodness and justice, and the Athenians saw his 
 capacity and courage in a clear light. For 
 Molossus, who succeeded him, conducted the 
 war so ill as to fall himself into the enemy’s 
 hands. Philip, now rising in his designs and 
 hopes, marched to the Hellespont with all his 
 forces, in order to seize at once on the Cherso- 
 nesus, Perinthus, and B}^zantium. 
 
 The Athenians determining to send succours to 
 that quarter, the orators prevailed upon them to 
 give that commission to Chares. Accordingly he 
 sailed to those parts, but did nothing worthy of 
 such a force as he was intrusted with. The 
 cities would not receive his fleet into their har- 
 bours ; but, suspected by all, he beat about, 
 raising contributions where he could upon the 
 allies, and, at the same time, was despised by 
 the enemy. The orators, now taking the other 
 side, exasperated the people to such a degree, 
 tnat they repented of having sent any succours 
 to the Byzantians. Then Phocion rose up, and 
 told them, they should not be angry at the sus- 
 picions of the allies, but at their own generals, 
 who deserved not to have any confidence placed 
 in them. “For on their account,” said he, “ you 
 are looked upon with an eye of jealousy by the 
 very people who cannot be saved without your 
 assistance.” This argument had such an effect 
 on them that they changed their minds again, 
 and bade Phocion go himself with another 
 armament to the succour of the allies upon the 
 Hellespont. 
 
 This contributed more than anything to the 
 saving of Byzantium. Phocion’s reputation was 
 already great : besides, Cleon, a man of emi- - 
 nence in Byzantium, who had formerly been 
 well acquainted with him at the academy, 
 pledged his honour to the city in his behalf. 
 The Byzantians would then no longer let him 
 encamp without, but opening their gates received 
 him into their city, and mixed familiarly with 
 
PHOCION. 
 
 the Athenians ; who, charmed with this con- 
 fidence, were not only easy with respect to 
 provisions, and regular in their behaviour, but 
 exerted themselves with great spirit in everj" 
 action. By these means Philip was forced to 
 retire from the Hellespont, and he suflfered not 
 a little in his military reputation ; for till then 
 he had been deemed invincible. Phocioa took 
 some of his ships and recovered several cities 
 which he had garrisoned ; and making descents 
 in various parts of his territories, he harassed 
 and ravaged the flat count^5^ But at last, hap- 
 pening to be wounded b}^ a party that made head 
 against him, he weighed’ anchor and returned 
 home. 
 
 Some time after this, the Jtlegarensians applied 
 to him privately for assistance ; and as he was 
 afraid the matter would get air, and the Boeotians 
 would, prevent him, he assembled the people 
 early in the morning, and gave them an account 
 of the application. They had no sooner given 
 their sanction to the proposal, than he ordered 
 the trumpets to sound as a signal for them to 
 arm ; after which he marched immediately to 
 hlegara, where he was received with ^eat joy. 
 The first thing he did was to fortify Nisaea, and 
 to build two good walls between the city and the 
 port ; by which means the town had a safe com- 
 munication with the sea, and ha^’ing now little 
 to fear from the enemy on the landside, was 
 secured in the Athenian interest. 
 
 The Athenians being now clearly in a state of 
 hostihty with Philip, the conduct of the war was 
 committed to other generals in the absence of 
 Phocion. But, on his return from the islands, 
 he represented to the people, that as Philip was 
 peaceably disposed, and apprehensive of the 
 issue of the war, it was best to accept the con- 
 ditions he had offered. And when one of those 
 public barreters, who spend their whole time in 
 the court of Hehaca, and make it their business 
 to form impeachments, opposed him, and said, 
 “ Dare jnu, Phocion, pretend to dissuade the 
 Athenians from war, now the sword is drawn ? ” 
 “Yes,” said he, “ 1 dare ; though I know thou 
 wouldest be m my power in time of war, and I 
 shall be in thine in time of peace.” Demosthenes, 
 however, carried it against him for war ; which 
 he ad\ised the Athenians to make at the greatest 
 distance they could from Attica. ThS gave 
 Phocion occasion to say, ‘‘ M3- good friend, con- 
 sider not so much where v,-e shall fight, as how 
 we shall conquer. Formcto^is the only thing 
 that can keep the war at a distance. If we are 
 beaten, every_ danger will soon be at our gates.” 
 
 The Athenians did lose the da3- ; after which, 
 the most factious and troublesome part of the 
 citirens ^ew Ciiandenms to the hustings, and 
 insisted that he should have the command. This 
 alarmed the real well-wishers to their country so 
 much, that they called in the members of the 
 Areopagus to their assistance ; and it was not 
 without many tears, and the most earnest en- 
 treaties, that they prevailed upon the assembly 
 to put their concerns in the hands of Phocion. 
 
 He was of opinion, that the other proposals of 
 I Phihp should be readily accepted, because they 
 I seemed to be dictated b3’’ humanit}- ; but when 
 ■ Demades moved that Athens should be compre- 
 hended in the general peace, and, as one of the 
 states of Greece, should have the same terms 
 ■with the other cities, Phocion said, it ought not 
 
 517 
 
 to be agreed to, till it was known what conditions 
 Philip required. The times were against him, 
 however, and he was overruled. And when he 
 saw the Athenians repented afterwards, because 
 they found themselves obliged to fumi^ Philip 
 both -with ships of -w'ar, and cavalry, he said, 
 
 “ This was the thing I feared ; and my opposition 
 ivas founded upon it. But since 3-ou have signed 
 the treat3-, you must bear its inconveniences -with- 
 out murmuring or despondence ; remembering 
 that 3'our ancestors sometimes gave law to their 
 neighbours, and sometimes -n-ere forced to submit, 
 but did both with honour ; and by that means 
 saved themselves and all Greece.” 
 
 When the neivs of Philip’s death was brought 
 to Athens, he would not suffer any sacrifices or 
 rejoicings to be made on that account. ‘ ‘ N othing,” 
 said he, “could show greater meanness of spirit 
 than expressions of joy on the death of an enemy. 
 ^^^lat great reason, indeed, is there for it, w-hen 
 the army you fought -with at Cheronaea is lessened 
 only b3’- one man.” 
 
 Demosthenes gave in to invectives against Alex- 
 ander, when he w-as marching against Thebes ; 
 the ill _polic3^ of -which Phocion easily perceived, 
 and said, 
 
 “ MTiat boots the godlike giant to provoke, 
 
 Whose arm ma3^ sink us at a single stroke 
 PoP3, Od3*ss. 9. 
 
 “"When 5"ou see such a dreadful fire near you, 
 would you plunge Athens into it ? For m3’- part, 
 
 I will not suffer you to ruin yourselves, friough 
 3’cur inclinations lie that way ; and to prevent 
 eve^ step of that kind is the end I proposed in 
 taking the command.” 
 
 MTien Alexander had destro3’-ed Thebes, he 
 sent to the Athenians, and demanded that they 
 should deliver up to him Demosthenes, L3’curgus, 
 Hv-perides, and Charidemus. The whole assem- 
 bi3" cast their e3-es upon Phocion, and called upon 
 him often by name. At last he rose up ; and 
 placing him b3’ one of his friends, who had the 
 greatest share in his confidence and affection, he 
 expressed himself as follow-s ; “ The persons 
 whom .Alexander demands have brought the 
 commonw’ealth into such miserable circumstances, 
 that if he demanded even m3’- friend Nicocles, I 
 should vote for delivering him up. For m3- own 
 part, I should think it the greatest happiness to 
 die for 3-ou alL At the same time, I am not 
 without compassion for the poor Thebans who 
 have taken refuge here ; but it is enough for 
 Greece to weep for Thebes, without w-eeping for 
 Athens too. The best measure, then, we can 
 take is to intercede with the conqueror for both, 
 and by no means to think of fighting.” 
 
 The first decree drawn up in consequence of 
 these deliberations, Alexander is said to have 
 rejected, and to have turned his back upon the 
 deputies : but the second he received, because it 
 was brought b3- Phocion, who, as his old coun- 
 sellors informed him, stood high in the esteem of 
 his father Philip. He, therefore, not only gave 
 him a favourable audience, and granted his 
 request, but even listened to his counsel. Phocion ' 
 advised him, if tranquility was his object, to i 
 
 * These words are addressed to Ul3'sses b>- his | 
 companions, to restrain him from provoking the ■ 
 giant, Polyphemus, after they’ were escaped out of 
 his cave, and got on board their ship. | 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 i8 
 
 put an end to his wars ; if glory, to leave the 
 Greeks in quiet, and turn his arms against the 
 barbarians. In the course of their conference 
 he made many observations so agreeable to 
 Alexander’s disposition and sentiments that his 
 resentment against the Athenians was perfectly 
 appeased, and he was pleased to say, “The 
 people of Athens must be very attentive to the 
 affairs of Greece ; for, if anything happens to 
 me, the supreme direction will devolve upon 
 them.” With Phocion in particular he entered 
 into obligations of friendship and hospitality, and 
 did him greater honours than most of his own 
 courtiers were indulged with. Nay, Duris tells 
 us, that after that prince was risen to superior 
 greatness, by the conquest of Darius, and had 
 left out the word chairein, the common form of 
 salutation in his address to others, he still retained 
 it in writing to Phocion, and to nobody besides, 
 except Antipater. Chares asserts the same. 
 
 As to his munificence to Phocion, all agree that 
 he sent him loo talents. When the money was 
 brought to Athens, Phocion asked the persons 
 employed in that commission, why, among all 
 the citizens of Athens, he should be singled out 
 as the object of such bounty. “ Because,” said 
 they, “Alexander looks upon you as the only 
 honest and good man.” “Then,” said Phocion, 
 “ let him permit me always to retain that character, 
 as well as really to be that man.” The envoys 
 then went home with him, and when they saw 
 the frugality that reigned there, his wife baking 
 bread, himself drawing water, and afterwards 
 washing his own feet, they urged him the more 
 to receive the present. They told him, it gave 
 them real uneasiness, and was indeed an in- 
 tolerable thing, that the friend of so great a 
 prince should live in such a wretched manner. 
 At that instant a poor old man happening to pass 
 by, in a mean garment, Phocion asked the envoys, 
 whether they thought worse of him than of that 
 man. As they begged of him not to make such 
 a comparison, he rejoined, “Yet that man lives 
 upon less than I do, and is contented. In one 
 word, it will be to no purpose for me to have so 
 much money, if I do not use it ; and if I was to 
 live up to it, I should bring both myself, and the 
 king, your master, under the censure of the 
 Athenians.” Thus the money was carried back 
 from Athens, and the whole transaction was a 
 good lesson to the Greeks — that the man who did 
 not want such a sum of money was richer than he 
 who could bestow it. 
 
 Displeased at the refusal of his present, Alex- 
 ander wrote to Phocion, that he could not 
 number those among his friends who would not 
 receive his favours. Yet Phocion even then 
 would not take the money. However, he desired 
 the king to set at liberty Echecratides the sophist, 
 and Athenodorus the Iberian, as also Demaratus 
 and Sparto, two Rhodians, who were taken up 
 for certain crimes, and kept in custody at Sardis. 
 Alexander granted his request immediately ; and 
 aiterwards, when he sent Craterus into Macedonia, 
 ordered him to give Phocion his choice of one of 
 these four cities in Asia, Cios, Gergithus, Mylassa, 
 or Elsea. At the same time he was to assure him, 
 that the king would be much more disobliged if 
 he refused his second offer. But Phocion was not 
 to be prevailed upon, and Alexander died soon 
 after. 
 
 Phocion’s house is shown to this day in the 
 
 borough of Melita, adorned with some plates of 
 copper, but otherwise plain and homely. 
 
 Of his first wife we have no account, except 
 that she was sister to Cephisodotus the statuary. 
 The other was a matron, no less celebrated among 
 the Athenians for her modesty, prudence and 
 simplicity of manners, than Phocion himself was 
 for his probity. It happened one day, when some 
 new tragedians were to act before a full audience, 
 one of the players, who was to personate the 
 queen, demanded a suitable mask (and attire), 
 together with a large train of attendants, richly 
 dressed ; and, as all those things were not granted 
 him, he was out of humour, and refused to make 
 his appearance ; by which means the whole 
 business of the theatre was at a stand. But 
 Melanthius, who was at the charge of the exhibi- 
 tion, pushed him in, and said, “ Thou seest the 
 wife of Phjcion appear in public with one maid- 
 servant only, and dost thou come here to show 
 thy pride, and to spoil our women?” As Melan- 
 thius spoke loud enough to be heard, the audience 
 received what he had said with a thunder of 
 applause. When this second wife of Phocion 
 entertained in her house an Ionian lady, one of 
 her friends, the lady showed her her bracelets 
 and necklaces, which had all the magnificence 
 that gold and jewels could give them. Upon 
 which the good matron said, “Phocion is my 
 ornament, who is now called the twentieth time 
 to the command of the Athenian armies.” 
 
 ^ The son of Phocion was ambitious of trying his 
 skill in the games of the panathencea,^’ and his 
 father permiitted him to make the trial, on con- 
 dition that it was in the foot races ; not that he 
 set any value upon the victory, but he did it that 
 the preparations and previous exercise might be 
 of service to him ; for the young man was of a 
 disorderly turn, and addicted to drinking. Pho- 
 cus (that was his name) gained the victory, and a 
 number of his acquaintance desired to celebrate 
 it by entertainments at their houses ; but that 
 favour was granted only to one. When Phocion 
 came to the house, he saw everything prepared 
 in the most extravagant manner, and, among the 
 rest, that wine mingled with spices was provided 
 for washing the feet of the guests. He therefore 
 called his son to him, and said, “ Phocus, why do 
 you suffer your friends thus to sully the honour 
 of your victory ? ” f 
 
 In order to correct in his son entirely that 
 inclination to luxury, he carried him to Lace- 
 daemon, and put him among the young men who 
 were brought up in all the rigour of the ancient 
 discipline. This gave the Athenians no little 
 offence, because it showed in what contempt he 
 held the manners and customs of his own country. 
 Demades, one day, said to him, “ Why do not 
 we, Phocion, persuade the people to adppt the 
 Spartan form of government ? If you choose it, 
 I will propose a decree for it, and support it in 
 the best manner I am able.” “Yes, indeed,” 
 said Phocion, “ it would become you muchj with 
 all those perfumes about you, and that pride of 
 dress, to launch out in praise of Lycurgus and the 
 Lacedaemonian frugality.” 
 
 Alexander wrote to the Athenians for a supply 
 
 * See the life of Theseus. 
 
 t The victory was obtained by means of ab- 
 stemiousness and laborious exercise, to which 
 such indulgences were quite contrary. 
 
PHOCION, 
 
 519 
 
 of ships, and the orators opposing it, the senate 
 asked Phocion his opinion. “ I am of opinion,” 
 said he, “that you should either have the shai*pest 
 sword, or keep upon good terms with those who 
 have.” 
 
 Pytheas the orator, when he first began to 
 speak in public, had a torrent of words and the 
 most consummate assurance. Upon which Pho- 
 cion said, “Is it for thee to prate so who art but 
 a novice amongst us ? ” 
 
 When Harpa'.us had traitorously carried off 
 Alexander’s treasures from Babylon, and came 
 with them from Asia to Attica, a number of the 
 mercenary orators flocked to him, in hopes of 
 sharing in the spoil. He gave these some small 
 taste of his wealth, but to Phocion he sent no less 
 than 700 talents ; assuring him, at the same time, 
 that he might command his whole fortune, if he 
 would take him into his protection. _ But his 
 messengers found a disagreeable reception ; Pho- 
 cion told them that Harpalus should repent it, if 
 he continued thus to corrupt the city. And the 
 traitor dejected at his disappointment, stopped 
 his hand. A few days after, a general assembly 
 being held on this affair, he founff that the men 
 who had taken his money, in order to exculpate 
 themselves, accused him to the people ; while 
 Phocion, who would accept of nothing, was in- 
 clined to serve him, as far as might be consistent 
 with the public good. Harpalus, therefore, paid 
 his court to him again, and took every method to 
 shake his integrity, but he found the fortress on 
 all sides impregnable. Afterwards he applied to 
 Charicles, Phocion’s son-in-law, and his success 
 with him gave just cause of offence; for all the 
 world saw how intimate he was with him, and 
 tliat all his business went through his hands. 
 Upon the death of his mistress Pythionice, who 
 had brought him a daughter, he even employed 
 Charicles to get a superb monument built for her, 
 and for that purpose furnished him with vast 
 sums. This commission, dishonourable^ enough 
 in itself, became more so by the manner in which 
 he acquitted himself of it. For the monument is 
 still to be seen at Hermos, on the road between 
 Athens and Eleusis ; and there appears nothing 
 in it answerable to the charge of thirty talents, 
 which was the account that Charicles brought in.* 
 After the death of Harpalus, Charicles and Pho- 
 cion took his daughter under their guardianship, 
 and educated her with great care. At last, 
 Charicles was called to account by the public for 
 the money he had received of Harpalus ; and he 
 desired Phocion to support him with his interest, 
 and to appear with him in the court. But Phocion 
 answered, “I made you my son-in-law only for 
 just and honourable purposes.” 
 
 The first person that brought the news of Alex- 
 ander’s death was Asclepiades the son of Hippar- 
 chus. Demades desired the people to give no 
 credit to it : “ For,” said he, “ if Alexander were 
 dead, the whole world would smell the carcase.” 
 And Phocion, seeing the Athenians elated, and 
 inclined to raise new commotions, endeavoured to 
 keep them quiet. Many of the orators, however, 
 ascended the rostrum, and assured the people, 
 that the tidings of Asclepiades were true. “ Well 
 
 * Yet Pausanias says, it was one of the com- 
 pletest and most curious performances of all the 
 ancient works in Greece. According to him, it 
 stood on the other side of the river Cephisus. 
 
 then,” said Phocion, “if Alexander is dead to- 
 day, he will be so to-morrow, and the day fol- 
 lowing ; so that we may deliberate on that event 
 at our leisure, and take our measures with 
 safety.” 
 
 When Leosthenes, by his intrigues, had in- 
 volved Athens in the Lamian war, and saw how 
 much Phocion was displeased at it, he asked him 
 in a scoffing manner, what good he had done his 
 country, during the many years that he was 
 general? “And dost thou think it nothing, 
 then,” said Phocion, “for the Athenians to be 
 buried in the sepulchres of their ancestors ? ” As 
 Leosthenes continued to harangue the people in 
 the most arrogant and pompous manner, Phocion 
 said, “Young man, your speeches are like cypress 
 trees, large and lofty, but without fruit.” Hype- 
 rides rose up and said, “ Tell us, then, what will 
 be the proper time for the Athenians to go to 
 war?” Phocion answered, “I do not think it 
 advisable till the young men keep within the 
 bounds of order and propriety, the rich become 
 liberal in their contributions, and the orators 
 forbear robbing the public.” 
 
 Most people admired the forces raised by Leos- 
 thenes ; and when they asked Phocion his opinion 
 of them, he said, “ I like them very well for a 
 short race,* but I dread the consequence of a 
 long one. The supplies, the ships, the soldiers, 
 are all very good ; but they are the last we can 
 produce.” The event justified his observation. 
 Leosthenes at first gained great reputation by his 
 achievements ; for he defeated the Boeotians iii a 
 pitched battle, and drove Antipater into Lamia. 
 On this occasion the Athenians, borne upon the 
 tide of hope, spent their time in mutual enter- 
 tainments and in sacrifices to the gods. Many of 
 them thought, too, they had a fine opportunity to 
 play upon Phocion, and asked him whether he 
 should not have wished to have done such great 
 things. “Certainly I should,” said Phocion; 
 “ but still I should advise not to have attempted 
 them.” And when letters and messengers from 
 the army came one after another, with an account 
 of farther success, he said, “ When shall we have 
 done conquering ? ” 
 
 Leosthenes died soon after ; and the party 
 which was for continuing the war, fearing that if 
 Phocion was elected general, he would be for 
 putting an end to it, instructed a man that was 
 little known, to make a motion in the assembly, 
 importing, that, as an old friend and schoolfellow 
 of Phocion, he desired the people to spare him, 
 and preserve him for the most pressing occasions, 
 because there was not another man in their do- 
 minions to be compared to him. _ At the same 
 time he was to recommend Antiphilus for the 
 command. The Athenians embracing the pro- 
 posal, Phocion stood up and told them, he never 
 was that man’s schoolfellow, nor had he any 
 acquaintance with him, “ but from this moment,” 
 said he, turning to him, “ I shall number thee 
 amongst my best friends, since thou hast advised 
 what is most agreeable to me. ” 
 
 * Or rather, “ I think they may run very well 
 from the starting post to the extremity of the 
 course : but I know not how they will hold it 
 back again.” The Greeks had two sorts of races ; 
 the stadium^ in which they ran only right out 
 to the goal ; and the doliebus, in which they ran 
 right out, and then back again. 
 
The Athenians were strongly inclined to pro- 
 secute the war with the Boeotians, and Phocion 
 at first as strongly opposed it. His friends repre- 
 sented to him, that this violent opposition of his 
 would provoke them to put him to death, “ They 
 may do it, if they please, " said he ; “it will be 
 unjustly, if I advise them for the best ; but justly, 
 if I should prevaricate.” However, when he saw 
 that they were not to be persuaded, and that they 
 continued to besiege him with clamour, he ordered 
 a herald to make proclamation, that all the Athe- 
 nians, who were not more than sixty years above 
 the age of puberty, should take five days’ pro- 
 visions, and follow him immediately from the 
 assembly to the field. 
 
 This raised a great tumult, and the old men 
 began to exclaim against the order, and to walk off. 
 Upon which Phocion said, “Does this disturb 
 you, when I, who am fourscore years old, shall 
 be at the head of you ? ” That short remonstrance 
 had its effect ; it made them quiet and tractable. 
 When Micion marched a considerable corps of 
 Macedonians and mercenaries to Rhamnus, and 
 ravaged the sea coast and the adjacent country, 
 Phocion advanced against him with a body of 
 Athenians. ^ On this occasion a number of them 
 were very impertinent in pretending to dictate or 
 advise him how to proceed. One counselled him 
 to secure such an eminence, another to send his 
 cavalry to such a post, and a third pointed out a 
 place for a camp. “ Heavens !” said Phocion, 
 “how many generals we have, and how few 
 soldiers !” 
 
 When he had drawn up his arm 3 ^, one of the 
 infantry advanced before the ranks ; but when he 
 saw an enemy stepping out to meet him, his heart 
 failed him, and he drew back to his post. Where- 
 upon Phocion said, “Young man, are not you 
 ashamed to desert your station twice in one day ; 
 that in which I had placed you, and that in which 
 3 ''ou had placed yourself?” Then he immediately 
 attacked the enemy, routed them, and killed 
 great numbers, among whom was their general, 
 Micion. The confederate army of the Greeks in 
 Thessaly likewise defeated Antipater in a great 
 battle, though Leonatus and the Macedonians 
 from Asia had joined him. In this action Anti- 
 philus commanded the foot, and Menon the 
 Thessalian horse ; Leonatus was among the slain. 
 
 _ Soon after this, Craterus passed over from Asia 
 with a numerous army, and another battle was 
 fought in which the Greeks were worsted. The 
 loss, i::deed, was not great ; and it was principally 
 owing to the disobedience of the soldiers, who had 
 young officers that did not exert a proper author- 
 ity. But this, joined to the practice of Antipater 
 upon the cities, made the Greeks desert the 
 league, and shamefulty betray the liberty of their 
 country. As Antipater marched directly towards 
 Athens, Demosthenes and Hyperides fled out of 
 the city. As for Demades, he had not been able, 
 in any degree, to answer the fines that had been 
 laid upon him ; for he had been amerced seven 
 times for proposing edicts contrary to law. He 
 had also been declared infamous, and incapable 
 of speaking in the assembly. But now finding 
 himself at full liberty, he moved for an order that 
 ambassadors should be sent to Antipater with full 
 powers to treat of peace. The people, alarmed at 
 their present situation, called for Phocion, de- 
 claring that he was the only man they could trust. 
 Upon which he said, “ If you had followed the 
 
 counsel I gave >’ou, we should not have had now 
 to deliberate on such an affair.” Thus the decree 
 passed, and Phocion was despatched to Antipater, 
 who then lay with his army in Cadmea,* and was 
 preparing to enter Attica. 
 
 His first requisition was, that Antipater would 
 finish the treaty before he left the camp in which 
 he then lay. Craterus said, it was an unreason- ' 
 able demand ; that they should remain there to 
 be troublesome to their friends and allies, when 
 they might subsist at the expense of their enemies. 
 But Antipater took him by the hand, and said, 
 “ Let us indulge Phocion so far.” As to the 
 conditions, he insisted that the Athenians should 
 leave them to him, as he had done at Lamia to 
 their general Leosthenes. 
 
 Phocion went and reported this preliminary to 
 the Athenians, which they agreed to out of neces- 
 sity ; and then returned to Thebes, with other 
 ambassadors ; the principal of whom was Xeno- 
 crates the philosopher. For the virtue and repu- 
 tation of the latter were so great and illustrious 
 that the Athenians thought there could be nothing 
 in human nature, so insolent, savage, and ferocious 
 as not to feel .some impressions of respect and 
 reverence at the sight of him. It happened, 
 however, otherwise with Antipater, through his 
 extreme brutality and antipathy to virtue ; for he 
 embraced the rest with great cordiality, but would 
 not even speak to Xenocrates ; which gave him 
 occasion to say, “Antipater does well in being 
 ashamed before me, and me only, of his injurious 
 designs against Athens.” 
 
 Xenocrates afterwards attempted to speak, but 
 Antipater, in great anger, interrupted him, and 
 would not suffer him to proceed.! To Phocion’s 
 discourse, however, he gave attention ; and an- 
 swered, that he should grant the Athenians peace, 
 and consider them as his friends, on the following 
 conditions : “In the first place, ” said he, “ they 
 must deliver up to me Demosthenes and Hyper- 
 ides. In the next place, they must put their 
 government on the ancient footing, when none 
 but the rich were advanced to the great offices of 
 state. A third article is, that they must receive 
 a garrison into jSIunychia : and a fourth, that they 
 must pay the expenses of the war.” All the new 
 de^^uties, except Xenocrates, thought themselves 
 happy in these conditions. That philosopher said, 
 
 * Dacier, without any necessity, supposes that 
 Plutarch uses the word Cadmea for Boeotia. In 
 a poetical way it is, indeed, capable of being 
 understood so ; but it is plain from what follows, 
 that Antipater then lay at Thebes, and probably 
 in the Cadmea or citadel. 
 
 t Yet he had behaved to him with great kind- 
 ness when he was sent to ransom the prisoners. 
 Antipater, on that occasion, took the first oppor- 
 tunity to invite him to supper ; and Xenocrates 
 answered in those verses of Homer which Ulysses 
 addressed to Circe, who pressed him to partake of 
 the delicacies she had provided ; 
 
 111 fits it me, whose friends are sunk to beasts. 
 
 To quaff thy bowls, and riot in thy feasts. 
 
 Me wouldst thou please? For them thy cares 
 employ ; 
 
 And them to me restore, and me to joy. 
 
 Antipater v/as so charmed with the happy 
 application of these verses, that he released all 
 the prisoners. 
 
FHOCIOiV, 
 
 “Antipater deals favourably with us, if he con- 
 siders us as his slaves ; but hardly, if h.e looks 
 upon us as freemen.” Phocion begged for a re- 
 mission of the article of the garrison ; and Anti- 
 pater is said to have answered, “Phocion, we 
 will grant thee everj- thing, except what would be 
 the ruin of both us and thee.” Others say, that 
 Antipater asked Phocion whether, if he ex- 
 cused the Athenians as to the garrison, he would 
 undertake for their observing the other articles, 
 and raising no new commotions. As Phocion 
 hesitated at this question, Callimedon, surnamed 
 Carabus,.a violent man, and an enemy to popular 
 government, started up and said, “Antipater, 
 why do you suffer this man to amuse you ? If he 
 should give you his word, would you depend 
 upon it, and not abide by your first resolutions ? ” 
 Thus the Athenians were obliged to receive a 
 Macedonian garrison, which was commanded by 
 hlen^dlus, a rnan of great moderation, and the 
 friend of Phocion. But that precaution appeared 
 to be dictated by a wanton vanity ; rather an 
 abuse of power to the purposes of insolence, than 
 a measure necessary for the conqueror s affairs. 
 It was more severel}'- felt by the Athenians, on 
 account of the time the garrison entered ; which 
 was the twentieth of the month of September,* 
 when they were celebrating the ^eat mysteries, 
 and the very day that they carried the god Bac- 
 chus in procession from the city to Eleusis. The 
 disturbances they saw in the ceremonies gave 
 many of the people occasion to reflect on the 
 difference of the divine dispensations with respect 
 to Athens in the present and in ancient times. 
 “Formerl3%” said the^^, “ m^^stic visions were 
 seen, and voices heard, to «the great happiness of 
 the republic, and the terror and astonishment of 
 our enemies. But now, during the same cere- 
 monies, the gods look without concern upon the 
 severest misfortunes that can happen to Greece, 
 and suffer the holiest, and what was once the 
 most agreeable time in the year, to be profaned, 
 and rendered the date of our greatest calamities.” 
 A few days before, the Athenians had received 
 an oracle from Dodona, which warned them to 
 secure the promontories of Diana against strangers. 
 And about this time, upon washing the sacred 
 fillets with which they bind the mystic beds, 
 instead of the lively purple they used to have, 
 they changed to a faint dead colour. What 
 added to the wonder was, that all the linen 
 belonging to private persons, which was washed 
 in the same water, retained its former lustre. 
 And as a priest was washing a pig in that part 
 of the port called Cant/iarus, a large fish seized 
 the hinder parts, and devoured them as far as the 
 belly^ ; by which the gods plainly announced, 
 that they would lose the lower parts of the city 
 next the sea, and keep the upper. 
 
 The garrison commanded by Menyllus, did no 
 sort of injury to the citizens. But the number 
 excluded, by another article of the treaty, on 
 account of their poverty, from a share in the 
 government, was upwards of 12,000. Such of 
 these as remained in Athens, appeared to be in a 
 state of misery and disgrace ; and such as migrated 
 to a city and lands in Thrace, assigned them by 
 Antipater, looked upon themselves as no better 
 than a conquered people transported into a foreign 
 country. 
 
 ~ Eoedromion. 
 
 The death of Demosthenes in Calauria, and 
 that of Hyperides at Cleonse, of which we have 
 given an account in another place, made the 
 Athenians remember Alexander and Philip with 
 a re^et which seemed almost inspired by affec- 
 tion.* The case was the same with them now, 
 as it was with the countrymen afterwards upon 
 the death of Antigonus. Those who killed that 
 prince, and reigned in his stead, were so oppres- 
 sive arid tyrannical, that a Phrygian peasant, who 
 was digging the ground, being asked what he 
 was seeking, said, with a sigh, “I am seeking 
 for Antigonus.” Many of the Athenians ex- 
 pressed equal concern, now, when they remem- 
 bered the great and generous turn of mind in 
 those kings, and how easily their anger was ap- 
 peased : whereas Antipater, who endeavoured to 
 conceal his power under the mask of a private 
 man, a mean habit, and a plain diet, was infinitely 
 niore rigorous to those under his command ; and, 
 in fact, an oppressor and a t^’rant. Yet, at the 
 request of Phocion, he recalled many persons 
 from exile ; and to such as he did not choose to 
 restore to their own country, granted a com- 
 modious situation ; for, instead of being forced 
 to reside, like other exiles, beyond the Ceraunian 
 mountains, and the promontory of Tsenarus, he 
 suffered them to remain in Greece, and settle in 
 Peloponnesus. Of this number was Agnonides 
 the informer. 
 
 In some other instances he governed with 
 equity. He directed the police of Athens in a 
 just and candid manner ; raising the modest and 
 the good to the principal empWments ; and ex- 
 cluding the uneasy and the seditious from all 
 offices ; so that having no opportunity to excite 
 troubles, the spirit of faction died away ; and 
 he taught them by little and little to love the 
 country, and apply themselves to agriculture. 
 Observing one day that Xenocrates paid a tax 
 as a stranger, he offered to make him a present 
 of his freedom ; but he refused it, and assigned 
 this reason, — “ I will never be a member of that 
 governnient, to ptyvent the establishment of which 
 I acted in a public character.” 
 
 _ Menyllus was pleased to offer Phocion a con- 
 siderable sum of money. But he said, “ Neither 
 is Menyllus a greater man than Alexander : nor 
 have I greater reason to receive a present now 
 than I had then.” The governor pressed him 
 to take it at least for his son Phocus ; but he 
 answered, “ If Phocus becomes sober, his father’s 
 estate will be sufficient for him ; and if he con- 
 tinues dissolute, nothing will be so.” He gave 
 Antipater a more severe answer, when he wanted 
 him to do something inconsistent with his probity. 
 “Antipater,” said he, “ cannot have me both for 
 a friend and a flatterer.” And Antipater himself 
 used to s^y, “I have t^vo friends in Athens. 
 Phocion, and Demades : it is impossible either 
 to persuade the one to anything, or to satisfy 
 the other.” Indeed, Phocion had his poverty' to 
 show as a proof of his virtue ; for, though he so 
 often commanded the Athenian armies, and was 
 honoured with the friendship of so many' kings, 
 he grew old in indigence ; whereas Demades 
 paraded with his wealth even in instances that 
 
 * The cruel dispo.sition of Antipater, who had 
 insisted upon Demosthenes and Hy’perides being 
 given up to his revenge, made the conduct of 
 Philip and Alexander comparatively amiable. 
 
522 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 were contrary to la\y : for there was a law at 
 Athens, that no foreigner should appear in the 
 choruses upon the stage, under the penalty of 
 looo drachmas, to be paid the person who 
 
 gave the entertainment. Yet Demades, in his 
 exhibition, produced none but foreigners ; and 
 he paid the thousand drachmas fine for each, 
 though their number was loo. And when his 
 son Demea was married, he said, “ When I 
 married your mother, the next neighbour hardly 
 knew it ; but kings and princes contribute to the 
 expense of your nuptials.” 
 
 The Athenians were continually importuning 
 Phocion to persuade Antipater to withdraw the 
 garrison ; but whether it was that he despaired 
 of success, or rather because he perceived that 
 the people were more sober and submissive to 
 government, under fear of that rod, he always 
 declined the commission. The only thing that 
 he asked and obtained of Antipater was, that the 
 money which the Athenians were to pay for the 
 charges of the war, should not be insisted on 
 immediately, but a longer term granted. The 
 Athenians, finding that Phocion would not meddle 
 with the affair of the garrison, applied to Demades, 
 who readily undertook it. In consequence of this, 
 he and his son took a journey to Macedonia. It 
 should seem, his evil genius led him thither ; for 
 he arrived just at the time when Antipater was in 
 his last illness ; and when Cassander, now absolute 
 master of everything, had intercepted a letter 
 written by Demades to Antigonus in Asia, in- 
 viting him to come over and seize Greece and 
 hlacedonia, which, he said, hung only upon an 
 old rotten stalk ; so he contemptuously called 
 Antipater. Cassander no sooner saw him, than he 
 ordered him to be arrested ; and first he killed his 
 son before his eyes, and so near, that the ‘blood 
 spouted upon him, and filled his bosom ; then, 
 after having reproached him with his ingratitude 
 and perfidiousness, he slew him likewise. 
 
 Antipater, a little before his death, had ap- 
 pointed Polyperchon general, and given Cassander 
 the command of looo men. But Cassander, far 
 from being satisfied with such an appointment, 
 hastened to seize the supreme power, and imme- 
 diately sent Nicanor to take the command of the 
 garrison from Menyllus, and to secure JNIunychia 
 before the news of his father’s death got abroad. 
 This scheme was carried into execution ; and, a 
 few days after, the Athenians being informed of 
 the death of Antipater, accused Phocion of being 
 privy to that event, and concealing it out of 
 friendship to Nicanor. Phocion, however, gave 
 him.self no pain about it ; on the contrar}^, he 
 conversed familiarly with Nicanor ; and, by his 
 assiduities, not only rendered him kind and 
 obliging to the Athenians, but inspired him with 
 an ambition to distinguish himself by exhibiting 
 games and shows to the people. 
 
 Meantime Polyperchon, to whom the care of 
 the king’s person was committed,* in order to 
 countermine Cassander, wrote letters to the Athe- 
 nians, importing, that the king restored them 
 their ancient form of government; according to 
 which, all the people had a right to public em- 
 ployments. This was a snare he laid for Phocion. 
 For, being desirous of making himself master of 
 Athens (as soon appeared from his actions), he 
 
 was sensible that he could not effect anything 
 while Phocion was in the way. He saw, too, 
 that his expulsion would be no difficult task, 
 when all who had been excluded from a share in 
 the administration were restored ; and the orators 
 and public informers were once more masters of 
 the tribunals. 
 
 As these letters raised great commotions among 
 the people, Nicanor was desired to speak * to 
 them on that subject in the Piraeus ; and, for that 
 purpose entered their assembl3'^, trusting his per- 
 son with Phocion. Dercyllus, who commanded 
 for the king in the adjacent countrj^ laid a scheme 
 to seize him ; but Nicanor getting timely informa- 
 tion of his design, guarded against it, and soon 
 showed that he would wreak his vengeance on 
 the city. Phocion then was blamed for letting 
 him go when he had him in his hands ; but he 
 answered, he could confide in Nicanor’s promises, 
 and saw no reason to suspect him of any ill 
 design. “ Hov/ever,” said he, “be the issue 
 what it may, I had rather be found suffering than 
 doing what is unjust.” 
 
 This answer of his, if we examine it with respect 
 to himself only, will appear to be entirely the 
 result of fortitude and honour ; but, when we con- 
 sider that he hazarded the safety of his country, 
 and, what is more, that he was general and first 
 magistrate, I know not whether he did not violate 
 a stronger and more respectable obligation. It is 
 in vain to allege that Phocion v/as afraid of in- 
 volving Athens in a war ; and for that reason 
 would not seize the person of Nicanor ; and that 
 he only urged the obligations of justice and good 
 faith, that Nicanor, by a grateful sense of such 
 behaviour, might be prevailed upon to be quiet, 
 and think of no injurious attempt against the 
 Athenians. For the truth is, he had such con- 
 fidence in Nicanor, that when he had accounts 
 brought him from several hands of his designs 
 upon the Piraeus, of his ordering a body of mer- 
 cenaries to Salamis, and of his bribing some of 
 the inhabitants of the Piraeus, he would give no 
 credit to any of these things. Nay, when Philo- 
 medes, of the borough of Lampra, got an edict 
 made, that all the Athenians should take up arms, 
 and obey the orders of Phocion, he took no care 
 to act in pursuance of it, till Nicanor had brought 
 his troops out of Munychia, and carried his 
 trenches round the Piraeus. Then Phocion would 
 have led the Athenians against him ; but, by this 
 time, they were become mutinous, and looked 
 upon him with contempt. 
 
 At that juncture arrived Alexander, the son of 
 Pol3'^perchon, with an army, under pretence of 
 assisting the cit3’- against Nicanor; but, in reality, 
 to avail himself of its fatal divisions, and to seize 
 it, if possible, for himself. For the exiles who 
 entered the town with him, the foreigners, and 
 such citizens as had been stigmatized as infamous, 
 with other mean people, resorted to him, and 
 altogether made up a strange disorderly assembly, 
 by whose suffrages the command was taken from 
 Phocion, and other generals appointed. Had not 
 Alexander been seen alone near the walls in con- 
 ference with Nicanor, and by repeated inter vie\ys, 
 given the Athenitps cause of suspicion, the city 
 
 * Nicanor knew that Polyperchon’s proposal 
 to restore the democracy was merely a snare, 
 and he v anted to make the Athenians sensible 
 of it. 
 
 * I'he son of Alexander, who was yet very 
 i young. 
 
 i 
 
PHOCION. 
 
 523 
 
 could not have escaped the danger it was in. 
 Immediately the orator Agnonides singled out 
 Phocion, and accused him of treason ; which so 
 much alarmed Callimedon and Pericles,* that 
 they fled out of the city. Phocion, with such of 
 his friends as did not forsake him, repaired to 
 Polyperchon. Solon of Plataea, and Dinarchus 
 of Corinth, who passed for the friends and con- 
 fidants of Polyperchon, out of regard to Phocion, 
 desired to be of the part5^ But l 3 inarchus falling 
 ill by the way, they were obliged to stop many 
 days at Elatea. In the mean time, Archestratus 
 proposed a decree, and Agnonides got it passed, 
 that deputies should be sent to Polyperchon, with 
 an accusation against Phocion. 
 
 The two parties came up to Polyperchon at the 
 same time, as he was upon his march with the 
 king,t near Pharuges, a town of Phocis, situated 
 at the foot of Mount Acroriam, now called Galate. 
 There Polyperchon placed the king under a 
 golden canopy, and his friends on each side of 
 him ; and, before he proceeded to any other 
 business, gave orders that Dinarchus should be 
 put to the torture, and afterwards despatched. 
 This done, he gave the Athenians audience. 
 But, as they filled the place with noise and 
 tumult, interrupting each other with mutual 
 accusations to the council, Agnonides pressed 
 forwards and said, “Put us all in one cage, and 
 send us back to Athens, to give account of our 
 conduct there.” The king laughed at the pro- 
 posal; but the Macedonians who attended on 
 that occasion, and the strangers who were drawn 
 thither by curiosity, were desirous of hearing the 
 cause ; and therefore made signs to the deputies 
 to argue the matter there. However, it was far 
 from being conducted with impartiality. Polyper- 
 chon often interrupted Phocion, who at last v/as 
 so provoked, that he struck his staff upon the 
 ground, and would speak no more. Hegemon 
 said, Polyperchon himself could bear witness to 
 his affectionate regard for the people ; and that 
 general answered, “ Do you come here to slander 
 me before the king?” Upon this the king started 
 up, and was going to run Hegemon through with 
 his spear ; but Polyperchon prevented him ; and 
 the council broke up immediately. 
 
 The guards then surrounded Phocion and his 
 party, except a few, who, being at some distance, 
 muffled themselves up, and fled. Clitus canied 
 the prisoners to Athens, under colour of having 
 them tried there, but, in reality, only to have 
 them put to death, as persons already condemned. 
 The manner of conducting the thing made it a 
 more melancholy scene. The pri.soners were 
 carried in carts through the Ceramicus to ^he 
 theatre, where Clitus shut them up till thef 
 Archons had assembled the people. From this 
 assembly neither slaves, nor foreigners, nor per- 
 sons stigmatized as infamous, were excluded ; the 
 tribunal and the theatre were open to all. Then 
 the king’s letter was read ; the purport of which 
 
 * Pericles here looks like an erroneous reading. 
 Afterwards we find not Pericles^ but Chariclcs 
 mentioned along with Callimedon. Charicles was 
 Phocion’ s son-in-law. 
 
 t This was Aridaeus the natural son of Philip. 
 After some of Alexander’s generals had raised 
 him to the throne for their own purposes, he took 
 the name of Philip, and reigned six years and a 
 few months. 
 
 was tliat he had found the prisoners guilty of 
 treason ; but that he left it to the Athenians, as 
 freemen, who were to be governed by their own 
 laws, to pass sentence upon them. 
 
 At the same time Clitus presented them to the 
 people. The best of the citizens, when they saw 
 Phocion, appeared greatly dejected, and covering 
 their faces with their mantles, began to weep. 
 One, however, had the courage to say, “ Since 
 the king leaves the determination of so important 
 a matter to the people, it would be proper to 
 command all slaves and strangers to depart.” 
 But the populace, instead of agreeing to that 
 motion, cried out, “ It would be much more 
 proper to stone all the favourers of oligarchy, all 
 the enemies of the people.” After which, no one 
 attempted to offer anything in behalf of Phocion. 
 It was with much difficulty that he obtained per- 
 mission to speak. At last, silence being made, 
 he said, “Do you design to take away my life 
 justly or unjustlj’-?” Some of them answering, 
 “Justly;” he said, “How can you know 
 whether it will be justly, if you do not hear me 
 first? ” As he did not find them inclinable in the 
 least to hear him, he advanced some paces for- 
 ward, and said, “Citizens of Athens, I acknow- 
 ledge I have done you injustice ; and for my 
 faults in the administration, adjudge myself guilty 
 of death ; * but why will you put these men to 
 death, who have never injured 3’'ou ? ” The popu- 
 lace made answer, “ Because they are friends to 
 5^ou.” Upon which he drew back, and resigned 
 himself quietly to his fate. 
 
 Agnonides then read the decree he had pre- 
 pared ; according to which, the people were to 
 declare by their suffrages whether the prisoners 
 appeared to be guilty or not ; and if they ap- 
 peared so, they were to suffer death. When the 
 decree was read, some called for an additional 
 clause for putting Phocion to the torture before 
 execution ; and insisted, that the rack and its 
 managers should be sent for immediately. But 
 Agnonides, observing that Clitus was displeased 
 at that proposal, and looking upon it himself as a 
 barbarous and detestable thing, said, “ When we 
 take that villain Callimedon, let us put him to the 
 torture ; but, indeed, my fellow-citizens, I cannot 
 consent that Phocion should have such hard 
 measure.” Upon this, one of the better disposed 
 Athenians cried out, “ Thou art certainly right ; 
 for if we torture Phocion, what must we do to 
 thee ? ” There was, however, hardly one nega- 
 tive when the sentence of death was proposed : 
 all the people gave their voices standing ; and 
 some of them even crowned themselves with 
 flowers, as if it had been a matter of festivity. 
 With Phocion, there were Nicocles, Thudippus, 
 Hegemon, and Pythocles. As for Demetrius the 
 Phalerean, Callimedon, Chaiicles, and some 
 others, who were absent, the same sentence was 
 passed upon them. 
 
 After the assembly was dismissed, the convicts 
 were sent to prison. The embraces of their 
 friends and relations melted them into tears ; and 
 they all went on bewailing their fate, except 
 Phocion. His countenance was the same as when 
 
 * It was the custom for the person accused to 
 lay some penalty on himself. Phocion chooses 
 the highest, thinking it might be a means to 
 reconcile the Athenians to his friends ; but it had 
 not that effect. 
 
PLUTARCH LIVES, 
 
 524 
 
 the people sent him out to command their drmies ; 
 and the beholders could not but admire his in- 
 vincible firmness and magnanimity. Some of his 
 enemies, indeed, reviled him as he went along ; 
 and one of them even spit in his face : upon 
 which he turned to the magistrates, and said, 
 “Will nobody correct this fellow’s rudeness?” 
 Thudippus, when he 'saw the executioner pound- 
 ing the hemlock, began to lament what hard 
 fortune it was for him to suffer unjustly on Pho- 
 cion’s account. “ What then ! ” said the vener- 
 able sage, “dost thou not think it an honour to 
 die with Phocion ? ” One of his friends asking 
 him whether he had any commands to his son ; 
 “ Yes,” said he, “ by all means, tell him from me, 
 to forget the ill-treatment I have had from the 
 Athenians.”_ And when Nicocles, the most faith- 
 ful of his friends, begged that he would let him 
 drink the poison before him ; “ This,” said he, 
 “ Nicocles, is a hard request ; and the thing must 
 give me great uneasiness ; but since I have 
 obliged you in every instance through life, I will 
 do the same in this.” 
 
 W''hen they came all to drink, the quantity- 
 proved not sufficient ; and the executioner refused 
 to prepare more, except he had twelve drach^nas 
 paid him, which was the price of a full draught. 
 As this occasioned a troublesome delay, Phocion 
 called one of his friends, and said, “Since one 
 cannot die on free cost at Athens, give the man 
 his money.” This execution was on the nineteenth 
 day of April,"^ when there was a procession of 
 horsemen in honour of Jupiter. As the cavalcade 
 passed by, some took off their chaplets from their 
 heads ; others shed tears, as they looked at the 
 prison doors ; all who had not hearts entirely 
 savage, or were not corrupted by rage and envy, 
 looked upon it as a most impious thing, not to 
 have reprieved them at least for that day, and so 
 to have kept the city unpolluted on the festival. 
 
 However, the enemies of Phocion, as if some- 
 thing had been wanting to their triumph, got an 
 order that his body should not be suffered to 
 remain within the bounds of Attica ; nor that any 
 Athenian should furnish fire for the funeral pile. 
 Therefore no friend durst touch it ; but one 
 Conopion, who lived by such services, for a sum 
 
 * Munychioft, 
 
 of money, carried the corpse out of the territories 
 of Eleusis, and got fire for the burning of it in 
 those of Megara. A woman of Megara, who 
 happened to assist at the ceremony with her 
 maid-servants, raised a ce7iotaph upon the spot, 
 and performed the customary libations. The 
 bones she gathered up carefully into her lap, 
 carried them by night to her own house, and 
 interred them under the hearth. At the same 
 time she thus addressed the domestic gods : “ Ye 
 guardians of this place, to you I commit the 
 remains of this good man. Do you restore them 
 to the sepulchre of his ancestors, when the Athe- 
 nians shall once more listen to the dictates of 
 wisdom.” 
 
 The tirne was not long before the situation of 
 their affairs taught them how vigilant a magis- 
 trate, and how excellent a guardian of the virtues 
 of justice and sobriet}”, they had lost. The 
 people erected his statue in brass, and buried his 
 remains at the public expense. Agnonides, his 
 principal accuser, they put to death, in conse- 
 quence of a decree for that purpose. Epicurus 
 and Demophilus, the other two, fled from Athens ; 
 but afterwards fell into the hands of Phocion’s 
 son, who punished them as they deserved. This 
 son of his was, in other respects, a worthless 
 man. He was in love with a girl who was in a 
 state of servitude, and belonged to a trader in 
 such matters ; and happening one day to hear 
 Theodorus the atheist maintain this argument in 
 the Lyceum, that if it is no shame to ransom a 
 friend, it is no shame to redeem a mistress, the 
 discourse was so flattering to his passion, that 
 he went immediately and released his female 
 friend, f' 
 
 The proceedings against Phocion put the 
 Greeks in mind of those against Socrates. The 
 treatnient of both was equally unjust, and the 
 calamities thence entailed upon Athens were per- 
 fectly similar. J 
 
 t It appears from the ancient comedy, that it 
 was no uncommon thing for the young men of 
 Athens to take their mistresses out of such shops ; 
 and, after they had released them from servitude, 
 to marry them. 
 
 t Socrates was put to death eighty-two years 
 before. 
 
 CATO THE 
 
 The family of Cato had its first lustre and dis- 
 tinction from his great grandfather, Cato the 
 Censor,§ a man whose virtue, as we have ob- 
 served in his life, ranked him with persons of the 
 greatest reputation and authority in Rome. The 
 Utican Cato, of whom we are now speaking, was 
 left an orphan, together with his brother Caspio, 
 and his sister Porcia. He had also another sister 
 called Servilia, but she was only sister by the 
 mother’s side. || The orphans were brought up in 
 
 § Cato the Censor, at a very late period of 
 life, married Salonia, daughter of his own 
 steward. There was a family, however, from the 
 second match, which flourished when that which 
 came from the first was extinct. 
 
 II Servilia was not his only sister by the mother’s 
 
 YOUNGER. 
 
 the house' of Livius Drusus, their mother’s 
 ,brother,_who'at that time had great influence in 
 the administration ; to which he was entitled by 
 his eloquence, his wisdom, and dignity of mind : 
 excellences that put him on an equality with the 
 best of the Romans. 
 
 Cato, we are told, from his infancy discovered 
 in his voice, his look, and his very diversions, a 
 firmness and solidity, which neither passion nor 
 anything else could move. He pursued every 
 object he had in view with a vigour far above his 
 years, and a resolution that nothing could resist. 
 
 side ; there were three of them : one, the mother 
 of Brutus who killed Cffisar : another married to 
 Lucullus ; and a third to Junius Silanus. Caepio, 
 too, was his brother by the mother’s side. 
 
CATO THE YOUNGER. 
 
 525 
 
 Those \vho were inclined to flatter were sure to 
 meet with a severe repulse, and to those who 
 attempted to intimidate him, he was still more 
 untractable. Scarce anything could make him 
 laugh, and it was but rarely that his countenance 
 was softened to a smile. He was not quickly'- or 
 easily moved to anger; but it was difficult to 
 appease his resentment, when qnce excited. 
 
 His apprehension was slow, and his learning 
 came with difficulty ; but what he had once 
 learned he long retained. It is, indeed, a common 
 case for persons of quick parts to have weak 
 memories, but what is gained with labour and 
 application is always retained the longest : for 
 every hard-gained acquisition of science is a kind 
 of annealing upon the mind. The inflexibility of 
 his disposition seems also to have retarded his 
 progress in learning : for to learn is to submit to 
 a new impression ; and those submit the most 
 easily who have the least power of resistance. 
 Thus jmung men are more persuasible than the 
 old, and the sick than such as are well ; and, in 
 general, assent is most easily gained from those 
 who are least able to find doubts and difficulties. 
 Yet Cato is said to have been very obedient to 
 his preceptor, and to have done whatever he was 
 commanded ; only he would ahva^’s inquire the 
 reason, and ask why such a thing was enjoined. 
 Indeed, his preceptor Sarpedon (for that was his 
 name) w^as a man of engaging manners, who 
 chose rather to govern by reason than by 
 violence. 
 
 While Cato was yet a child, the Italian allies 
 demanded to be admitted citizens of Rome. 
 Popedius Silo, a man of great name as a soldier 
 and powerful among his people, had a friendship 
 wuth Drusus, and lodged a long time in his house 
 during this application. As he was familiar with 
 the children, he said to them one da}*, “Come, 
 my good_ children, desire your uncle to assist us 
 in our solicitation for the freedom.” Csepio smiled, 
 and readily gave his promise ; but Cato made no 
 answer. And as he was observed to look with a 
 fixed and unkind eye upon the strangers, Pope- 
 dius continued, “ And you, my little man, what 
 do you say ? Will not 3'ou give your guests your 
 interest with your uncle, as w'ell as your brother ? ” 
 Cato still refusing to answer, and appearing by 
 his silence and his looks inclined to deny the 
 request, Popedius took him to the window and 
 threatened, if he would not premise, to throw 
 him out. This he did in a harsh tone, and at the 
 same time gave him several shakes, as if he was 
 going to let him fall. But as the child bore this a 
 long time without any marks of concern or fear, 
 Popedius set him down, and said softlj’- to his 
 friends, “ This_ child is the glory of Italy. I 
 verily believe, if he were a man, that we should 
 not get one vote among the people.” 
 
 Another time, when a relation invited 3*oung 
 Cato, with other children, to celebrate his birth- 
 da>', most of the children went to pla}’- together 
 in a corner of the house. Their play was to 
 mimic a court of justice,* where some were 
 
 * Children’s pla^’^s are often taken from what is 
 most familiar to them. In other countries they 
 are commonly formed upon trifling subjects ; but 
 the Roman children acted trials in the courts of 
 justice, the command of armies, triumphal pro- 
 cessions, and, in later times, the state of emperors. 
 Suetonius tells us that Nero commanded his son- 
 
 accused in form, and afterwards carried to prison. 
 One of them, a beautiful bo}", being condemned, 
 and shut up by a bigger boy, who acted as officer, 
 in one of the apartments, called out to Cato; 
 who, as soon as he understood what the matter 
 was, ran to the door, and, pushing away those 
 who stood there as guards and attempted to 
 oppose him, carried off the child, and went home 
 in great anger ; most of the children marching off 
 with him. 
 
 These things gained him great reputation, of 
 which the following is an extraordinary instance : 
 when S^dla chose to exhibit a tournament of bo^^s, 
 which goes by the name of Tray* and is con- 
 sidered as a sacred exhibition, he selected two 
 bands of young gentlemen, and assigned them 
 two captains, one of which they readily accepted, 
 on account of his being the son of Metella, the 
 wife of Sylla ; but the other, named Sextus, 
 though he was nephew to Pompey the Great, 
 they absolutely rejected, and would not go out to 
 exercise under him. Sylla then asking them, 
 whom^ they would have, they unanimously 
 cried “ Cato ; ” and Sextus himself readily yielded 
 the honour to him, as a boy of superior parts. 
 
 The friendship which had subsisted between 
 Sylla and the father of Cato, induced him some- 
 times to send for the jmung man and his brother 
 Csspio, and to talk familiarly with them : a favour, 
 which, by reason of his dignity, he conferred on 
 verj" few. Sarpedon thinking such an intercourse 
 a great advantage to his scholar, both in point of 
 honour and safety, often took Cato to pay his 
 respects to the dictator. Sylla’s house at that 
 time looked like nothing but a place of execution ; 
 such were the numbers of people tortured and 
 put to death there. Cato, who was now in his 
 fourteenth 5^ear, seeing the heads of many illus- 
 trious personages carried out, and observing that 
 the b^^standers sighed in secret at these scenes of 
 blood, asked his preceptor why somebody did 
 not kill that man? “Because,” said he, “they 
 fear him more than they hate him.” “ \Vhy then,” 
 said Cato, “ do not you give me a sword, that I 
 may kill him, and deliver my country from 
 slavery ? ” When Sarpedon heard such a speech 
 from the boy, and saw with what a stern and 
 angry look he uttered it, he was greatly alarmed, 
 and watched him narrowlj^ afterwards, to prevent 
 his attempting some rash action. 
 
 When he was but a child, he %vas asked, one 
 day, whom he loved most? and he answered, 
 his brother. The person who put the question, 
 then asked him, whom he loved next ? and 
 again he said, his brother ; whom in the 
 third place? and still it was, his brother: and 
 so on till he put no more questions to him about 
 it. This affection increased with his years, 
 insomuch that when he was twenty 3*ears old, if 
 he supped, if he went out into the country, ic he 
 appeared in the fonivi, Csepio must le with him. 
 
 in-law Rusinus Crispinus, the son of Popsea, a 
 child, to be thrown into the sea, because he was 
 said to delight in plays of the last-mentioned 
 kind. 
 
 * The invention of this game is generally 
 ascribed to Ascanius. It was celebrated in the 
 public circus by companies of bo^'S, who were 
 furnished with arms suitable to their strength. 
 They Avere taken, for the most part, out of the 
 noblest families in Rome. 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIVES, 
 
 
 V>nt he would not make use of perfumes as Csepio 
 did ; indeed, the whole course of his life was 
 strict and austere : so that when Caepio was 
 sometimes commended for his temperance and 
 sobriety, he would say, “ I may have some claim 
 to these virtues, when compared with other men ; 
 but when I compare myself with Cato, I seem a 
 mere Sippius.” Sippius was the name of a person 
 remarkably effeminate and luxurious. 
 
 After Cato, had taken upon him the priesthood 
 of Apollo, he changed his dwelling, and took his 
 share of the paternal estate, which amounted to 
 120 talents. But though his fortune was so con- 
 siderable, his manner of living was more frugal 
 and simple than ever. He formed a particular 
 connection with Antipater of Tyre, the Stoic 
 philosopher : and the knowledge he was the most 
 studious of acquiring was the moral and the 
 political. He was carried to every virtue with an 
 impulse like inspiration ; but his greatest attach- 
 ment was to justice, and justice of that severe and 
 inflexible kind which is not to be wrought upon 
 by flavour or compassion.* He cultivated also 
 that eloquence which is fit for popular assemblies ; 
 for as in a great city there should be an extraor- 
 dinary supply for war, so in the political philoso- 
 phy he thought there should be a provision for 
 troublesome times. Yet he did not declaim 
 before company, nor go to hear the exercises of 
 other young men. And when one of his friends 
 said, “ Cato, the world finds fault with your 
 silence : ” he answered, “No matter, so long as 
 it does not find fault with my life. I shall begin 
 to speak when I have things to say that deserve 
 to be known.” 
 
 In the public hall called the Porcian, which 
 was built by old Cato in his censorship, the tribunes 
 of the people used to hold their court. And, as 
 there was a pillar which incommoded their 
 benches, they resolved either to remove it to a 
 distance, or to take it entirely away. This was 
 the first thing that drew Cato to the rostra, and 
 even then it was against his inclination. How- 
 ever, he opposed the design effectually, and gave 
 an admirable specimen, both of his eloquence 
 and spirit. For there was nothing of youthful 
 sallies or finical affectation in his oratory; all 
 was rough, sensible, and strong. Nevertheless, 
 amidst the short and solid turn of the sentences 
 there was a grace that engaged the ear ; and with 
 the gravity which might be expected from his 
 manners, there was something of humour and 
 raillery intermixed, which had an agreeable 
 effect. His voice was loud enough to be heard 
 by such a multitude of people, and his strength 
 was such, that he often spoke a whole day with- 
 out being tired. 
 
 After he had gained his cause, he returned to 
 his former studies and silence. To strengthen 
 his constitution, he used the most laborious exer- 
 cise. He accustomed himself to go bare-headed 
 in the hottest and coldest weather, and travelled 
 on foot at all seasons of the year. His friends, 
 who travelled with him, made use of horses, and 
 he j oined sometimes one, sometimes another, for 
 conversation, as he went along. In time of sick- 
 
 * Cicero, in his oration for Murena, gives us a 
 fine satire upon those maxuns of the Stoics which 
 Cato made the rule of his life, and which, as he 
 observes, were only fit to flourish within the 
 portico. 
 
 ness, his patience and abstinence were extra- 
 ordinary. If he happened to have a fever, he 
 spent the whole day alone, suffering no person 
 to approach him till he found a sensible change 
 for the better. 
 
 At entertainments they threw the dice for the 
 choice of the messes ; and if Cato lost the first 
 choice, his friends used to offer it him ; but he 
 always refused it ; “ Venus,”* said he, “ forbids.” 
 At first he used to rise from table after having 
 drank once ; but in process of time he came to 
 love drinking, and would sometimes spend the 
 whole night over the bottle.^ His friends excused 
 him by saying that the business of the state em- 
 ployed him all day, and left him no time for con- 
 versation, and therefore he spent his evenings in 
 discourse with the philosophers. And, when 
 one Memmius said in company that Cato spent 
 whole nights in drinking; Cicero retorted, “But 
 you cannot say that he spends whole days at 
 play.” 
 
 Cato saw that a great reformation was w’anting 
 in the manners and customs of his country, and 
 for that reason he determined to go contrary to 
 the corrupt fashions which then obtained. He 
 observed (for instance) that the richest and most 
 lively purple was the thing most worn, and there- 
 fore he went in black. Nay, he often appeared 
 in public after dinner bare-footed and without 
 his gown. Not that he affected to^ be talked of 
 for that singularity ; but he did it by way of 
 learning to be ashamed of nothing but what was 
 really shameful, and not ^ to regard what de- 
 pended only on the estimation of the world. 
 
 A great estate falling to him by the death of 
 a cousin-german of the same name, he turned it 
 into money, to the amount of loo talents ; and 
 when any of his friends wanted to borrow a sum, 
 he lent it them without interest. If he could not 
 otherwise supply them, he suffered even his own 
 land and slaves to be mortgaged for them to the 
 treasury. 
 
 He knew no woman before his marriage ; and 
 when he thought himself of a proper age to enter 
 into that state, he set a treaty on foot with 
 Lepida, who had before been contracted to Me- 
 tellus Scipio, but, upon Scipio’s breaking the en- 
 gagement, was then at liberty. However, before 
 the marriage could take place, Scipio repented ; 
 and by the assiduity of his management and 
 address, succeeded with the lady. Provoked at 
 this ill treatment, Cato was desirous to go to law 
 for redress ; and, as his friends overruled him in 
 that respect, youthful resentment put him upon 
 writing some iambics against Scipio, which had 
 all the keenness of Archilochus, without his ob- 
 scenity and scurrility. _ 
 
 After this, he married Atiiia the daughter of 
 Soranus, who was the first, but not the only 
 woman he ever knew. ^ In this respect Lselius, 
 the friend of Scipio Africanus, was happier than 
 he ; t for in the course of a long life he had only 
 one wife, and no intercourse with any other 
 woman. 
 
 * The most favourable cast upon the dice was 
 called Venus, Horace alludes to it, ode vii. 
 
 lib. 2. 1 1 f 1 
 
 t Plutarch seems to us to have spoken so leel- 
 ingly of the happiness of the conjugal connection 
 long continued with one affectionate wife from 
 his own experience. 
 
CATO THE 
 
 : In the se^'ile war * (I mean that with Spar- 
 
 ' tacus) Geilius was general; and Cato served in 
 it as a volunteer, for the sake of his brother 
 ’ Csepio, who was tribune : but he could not dis- 
 tinguii his vivacity and courage as he washed, 
 
 I because the war was ill conducted. However, 
 j amidst the effeminacy and luxury w'hich then 
 I prevmled in the army, he paid so much regard 
 to discipline, and, w^hen occasion served, be- 
 haved with so much spirit and valour as well as 
 coolness and capacitj’-, that he appeared not in 
 the least inferior to Cato the Censor. Geilius 
 made him an offer of the best military rewards 
 and honours ; but he would not accept or allow of 
 them : “ for,” said he, I have done nothing 
 that deseives such notice.” 
 
 These things made him pass for a man of a 
 strange and singular turn. Besides, when a law 
 was made, that no man who solicited any ofice 
 should take no 77 ienclatcrs with him, he was the 
 only one that obe^'ed it ; for when he applied for 
 a tribune’s commission in the army, he had pre- ; 
 viously made himself master of the names of all ' 
 the citizens. Yet for this he was envied, even b)' 
 
 1 those who praised him. The more they con- 
 sidered the excellence of his conduct, the more 
 pain it gave them to think how hard it was to 
 imitate. 
 
 ith a. tribune's commission he was sent into : 
 Macedonia, w liere Rubrius the prat or com- 
 manded. His wu:e, upon his departure, was in 
 ^eat distress, and we are told that IMunatius, a 
 i^spd of Cato’s, in order to comfort her, said, ; 
 “ l ake courage, Atilia ; I will take care of j’our 
 husband.” ‘‘ By all means,” answered Cato. At ' 
 the end of the_ nrst day’s march, after they had 
 supped, he said, " Come, Munatius, that you j 
 ma}’’ the better perform your promise to Atilia, * 
 you shall not leave me either day or nighu” In 
 consequence cf which, he ordered two beds in . 
 his own tent, and made a pleasant improvement ! 
 upon the matter ; for, as Munatius alwmys slept . 
 by him, it was not he that took care of Cato, but * 
 Cato that took care of him, 
 
 Cato had with him fifteen slaves, two freed- 
 men, ^ and four of his fnends. These rode on i 
 horseback, and he alwa5*s went on foot ; yet he j 
 kept up with them and conversed with them by 
 tiims. Wiien he joined the army, which con- ■ 
 sisted of several legions, Rubrius "gave him the 
 command of one. In this post he thought it I 
 nothing great or extraordinary to be distinguished ; 
 by his own virtue only ; it was his ambition to 
 make all the troops that were under his care like ' 
 h i m self. \\ ith this view he lessened nothing of ' 
 that authority which might inspire fear, but he 
 ^led in the support of reason to its assistance. 
 By instruction and persuasion, as well as by 
 rewards and punishments, he formed them so 
 w'ell, that it was hard to say whether his troops 
 were more peaceable or more warlike, more 
 valpnt or more jusL They were dreadful to 
 their enemies, and courteous to their allies ; 
 afraid to do a dishonourable thing, and ambitious 
 of honest praise. 
 
 Hence,^ though honour and fame were not 
 Cato s objects, they flowed in upon him ; he was 
 held in universal esteem, and had entirely the ■ 
 ^ soldiers. For whatever he com- 
 manded others to do, he w*as the first to do him- 
 
 • Seventy-one years before the Christian era. 
 
 YOUXGER. 
 
 dress, his manner cf living, and 
 iMrCiiing, he resembled the private soldier more 
 ; *■ . officer ; and at the same time, in v’irtue, 
 
 ' in digmty of mind, and strength of eloquence he 
 > ffir exceeded all that had the name of generals, 
 j By these means he insensibly gained the affec- 
 ' tions of his troops. And, indeed, virtue does 
 npt attract imitation, except the person who ! 
 gives the pattern is beloved as well as esteemed. ■ 
 ! Those who praise good men wnthout loafing them, 
 only pay a respect to their name, but do not j 
 sincerely admire their virtue, nor have any in- 
 clination to follow their example. 
 
 ^At that time there lived at Pergamus a stoic j 
 pnilosopher, named Athenodorus, and sumamed 
 Cordylio, in great reputation for his knowledge. 
 He was now growm old, and had long resisted the ■ 
 apphcations of princes and other great men, who i 
 wanted to draw him to their courts, and offered 
 him their friendship and very considerable ap- : 
 pointments, Cato thence concluded that it j 
 wmuM be in vain to write or send any messenger 
 to him ; and, as the laws gave him leave of j 
 absence for two months, he sailed to Asia, and i 
 applied _to him in person, in confidence that his 
 accomplishments would carry his point with him. ! 
 Accordingly, by his arguments_ and the charms 
 of his conversation, he drew him from his pur- 
 pose, and brought him with him to the camp ; j 
 as happy and as proud of this success as if he i 
 had made a more valuable capture, or performed 
 a more glorious exploit, than those of Pompey ■ 
 and Lucullus, who were then subduing the pro- 
 vinces and kingdoms of the east. 
 
 \\Tdle he was with the army in ^Macedonia, he ' 
 had notice by letter timt his brother Caepio was 
 fallen sick at .iHnus in Thrace. The sea was 
 extremel3^ rough, and no large vessel to be had. ' 
 He ventured, however, to sail from Thessalonica 
 in a small passage-boat, with two friends and 
 three ^rv^ants, and having veiy’- narrowly escap>ed 
 drovvning, arrived at iHnus just after Caepio ' 
 e-xpired. On this occasion Cato showed die ' 
 sensibility of a brother, rather than the fortitude 
 of a philosopher. He wept, he groaned, he j 
 embraced the dead body ; and, besides these and \ 
 other tokens of the greatest sorrow, he spent vast ' 
 sums upon his funeral The spices and rich : 
 robes that were burned with him were very ( 
 e.^easive, and he pected a monument for him 
 of Thasian marble in the fom 7 )i at uEnus, which 
 cost no less than eight talents. 
 
 Some condemned these things as little agree- 
 able to the modesty and simplicity which Cato 
 professed in general ; but they did not perceive, 
 that with all his firmness and inflexibility to the 
 solicitations of pleasure, of terror, and impor- 
 tunity, he had great tenderness and sensibilicj- : 
 in his nature. Manj’ cides and princes sent 
 presents of great value, to do honour to the 
 obsequies, but be would not accept an3'thing in ' 
 mone3'. All that he would receive was spices 
 and stuffs, and those too only on condidon of 
 pa3-ing for ihem. 
 
 He was left coheir with Caepio’s daughter, to : 
 his estate ; but when the3* came to divide it, he i 
 would not charge any part of the funeral ex- 
 penses to her account. Yet, though he acted so 
 honourably in that affair, and continued in the 
 same upright path, there was one * who scrupled 
 
 * Julius Caesar in his Anilcaio. 
 
=^28 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 not to write, that he passed his brother’s ashes 
 through a sieve, in search of the gold that might 
 be melted down. Surely that writer thought 
 himself above being called to account for his pen, 
 as well as for his sword ! ^ ^ 
 
 Upon the expiration of his commission, Cato 
 was honoured at his departure, not only with the 
 common good wishes tor his health and praises 
 of his conduct, but with tears and the most 
 aft'ectionate embraces ; the soldiers spread their 
 garments in his way, and kissed his hand : in- 
 stances of esteem which few generals met with 
 from the Romans in those times. 
 
 But before he returned to Rome, to apply for 
 a share in the administration, he resolved to visit 
 Asia, and see with his own eyes the manners, 
 customs, and strength of every province. At the 
 same time he was willing to oblige Deiotarus 
 king of Galatia, who, on account of the engage- 
 ment of hospitality that he had entered into 
 with his father, had given him a very pressing 
 invitation. _ . _ , . 
 
 His manner of travelling was this. ^ Early in 
 the morning he sent his baker and his cook to 
 the place where he intended to lodge the next 
 night. These entered the town in a very modest 
 and civil manner, and if they found _ there _ no 
 friend or acquaintance of _Cato or his family, 
 they took up lodgings for him, and prepared his 
 supper, at an inn, without giving any one the 
 least trouble. If there happened to be no inn, 
 they applied to the magistrates for quarters, and 
 were always satisfied with those assigned thern. 
 Very often they were not believed to be Cato s 
 servants, but entirely disregarded, because they 
 came not to the magistrates in a clamorous and 
 threatening manner ; insomuch that their master 
 arrived before they could procure lodgings. It 
 v/as worse still when Cato himself rnade his ap- 
 pearance, for the townsmen seeing him sit down 
 on the luggage without speaking a word, took 
 him for a man of a mean and dastardly spirit. 
 Sometimes, however, he would send for the 
 magistrates, and say, “Wretches, why do not 
 you learn a proper hospitality? You will not 
 find all that apply to you, Catos. Do not then 
 by your ill treatment give those occasion to exert 
 their authority, who only want a pretence to take 
 from you by violence what you give with so 
 much reluctance.” 
 
 In Syria, we are told, he met with a humorous 
 adventure. When he came to Antioch, he saw a 
 number of people ranged in good order without 
 the gates. On ofie side the way stood the young 
 men in their mantles, and on the other the boys 
 in their best attire. Some wore white robes, and 
 had crowns on their heads ; these were the priests 
 and the magistrates. Cato _ imagining that this 
 magnificent reception was intended to do mm 
 honour, began to be angry with his servants, 
 who were sent before, for not preventing such a 
 compliment. Nevertheless, he desired his friends 
 to alight, and walked with them towards these 
 Antiochians. When they were near enough to 
 be spoken to, the master of the ceremonies, an 
 elderly man, with a staff and a crown in his 
 hand, addressed himself first to Cato, and, with- 
 out so much as saluting him, asked how far 
 Demetrius was behind ; and when he might be 
 expected. Demetrius was Pompey’s freedman ; 
 and, as the eyes of all the world were then fixed 
 upon Pompey, they paid more respect to this 
 
 favourite of his than he^ had any right to claim. 
 Cato's friends were seized with such a fit of 
 laughter that they could not recover themselves 
 as they passed through the crowd. Cato him- 
 self, in some confusion, cried out, “Alas, poor 
 city ! ” and said not a word more. Afterv/ards, 
 however, he used always to laugh when he told 
 the storv. 
 
 But Pompey took care to prevent the people 
 of Asia from making any more mistakes of this 
 kind for want of knowing Cato. For Cato, when 
 he came to Ephesus, going to pay his respects 
 to Pompey, as his superior in point of age and 
 dignity, and as the commander of such great 
 armies ; Pompey, seeing him at some distance, 
 did not wait to receive him sitting, but rose up 
 to meet him, and gave him his hand with great 
 cordiality. He said much, too, in commendation 
 of his virtue while he was present, and spoke 
 more freely in his praise when he was gone. 
 Every one, after this, paid great attention to 
 Cato, and he was admired for what before had 
 exposed him to contempt : for they could now 
 see that his sedate and subdued conduct was the 
 effect of his greatness of mind. Besides, it was 
 visible that Pompey’s behaviour to him was the 
 consequence rather of respect than love ; ^pd 
 that, though he expressed his admiration of him 
 when present, he was glad when he was gone. 
 For the other voung Romans that came to see 
 him, he pressed much to stay and spend some 
 time with him. To Cato he gave no such invita- 
 tion ; but, as if he thought himself under some 
 restraint in his proceedings while he stayed, 
 readily dismissed him. However, amongst all 
 the Romans that returned to Rome, to Cato 
 he recommended his wife and children, who 
 indeed were Cato’s relations. _ ^ 
 
 His fame now going before hinv, the cities in 
 his way strove which should do him most honour, 
 by invitations, entertainments, and every other 
 mark of regard. On these occasions, Cato used 
 to desire his friends to look well to him, lest he 
 should make good the saying of Curio. Curio, 
 who was one of his particular friends and com- 
 panions, but disapproved his austerity, asked 
 him one day whether he was inclined to visit 
 Asia when his time of service was expired. 
 Cato answered, “Yes, by all means. Upon 
 which Curio said, “ It is well ; you will return a 
 little more practicable : ” using an expressive 
 Latin word to that purpose. , , . , , 
 
 Deiotarus, king of Galatia, being/ar advanced 
 in years, sent for Cato, with a design to recom- 
 mend his children, and all his family, to his pro- 
 tection. As soon as he came, he offered him a 
 variety of valuable presents, and urged him 
 strongly to accept them ; which importunity .so 
 much displeased Cato, that though he came in 
 the evening, he stayed only that night, and went 
 away at the third hour the next morning. Adter 
 he had gone a day’s journey, he found at ^es- 
 sinus a greater number of presents, with letters 
 entreating him to receive them ; or if you will 
 not accept them,” said Deiotarus, at least per- 
 mit your friends to take them, who deserve some 
 reward for their services, and yet cannot expect 
 it out of your own estate. ’ Cato, 
 would give them no such permission, though fie 
 observed that some of his friends cast a longipcr 
 
 ODserveu uiiu, 
 
 eye that way, and were visibly chagrined. 
 “Corruption,” said he, “v/ill. never want a pre- 
 
CATO THE YOUNGER. 529 
 
 tence. But you shall be sure to share with me 
 whatever I can get with justice and honour.” 
 He therefore sent Deiotarus his presents back. 
 
 When he was taking ship for Brundusium, his 
 friends advised him to put Csepio’s remains on 
 board another vessel ; * but he declared he 
 would sooner part with his life than with them ; 
 and so he set sail. It is said, the ship he was in 
 happened to be in great danger, though all the 
 rest had a tolerable passage. 
 
 _ After his return to Rome, he spent his time 
 either in conversation with Athenodorus at home, 
 or in the fortun in the service of his friends. 
 Though he was of a proper age t to offer himself 
 for the quaestorship, he would not solicit it till 
 he had qualified himself for that office, by study- 
 ing all the laws relating to it, by making inquiries 
 of such as were experienced in it ; and thus gain- 
 ing a thorough knowledge of its whole intention 
 and process. Immediately upon his entering on 
 it, he made a great reformation among the secre- 
 taries and other officers of the treasury. The 
 public papers, and the rules of court, were what 
 they were well versed in ; and as young qusestors 
 were continually coming into the direction, who 
 were ignorant of the laws and records, the under 
 officers took upon them not only to instruct, but 
 to dictate to them ; and were, in fact, quaestors 
 themselves. Cato corrected this abuse. He ap- 
 plied himself with great vigour to the business, 
 and had not only the name and honour, but 
 thoroughly understood all that belonged to that 
 department. Consequentlj'", he made use of the 
 secretaries only as servants, which they really 
 were ; sometimes coiTecting wilful abuses, and 
 sometimes the mistakes which they made through 
 ignorance. As the licence in which they had 
 lived had made them refractory, and they hoped 
 to secure themselves by flattering the other 
 quaestors, they boldly withstood Cato. He 
 therefore dismissed the principal of them, whom 
 he had detected in a fraud 'in the division of an 
 estate. Against another he lodged an indict- 
 ment for forgery. His defence was under- 
 taken by Lutatius Catulus, then censor ; a man 
 whose authority was not only supported by his 
 high office, but still more by his reputation ; for, 
 in justice and regularity of life, he had distin- 
 guished himself above all the Romans of his 
 dme. He was also a fiiend and favourer of 
 Cato, on account of his upright conduct ; yet he 
 opposed him in this cause. Perceiving he had 
 not right on his side, he had recourse to en- 
 treaties ; but Cato would not suffer him to pro- 
 ceed in that manner ; and, as he did not desist, 
 took occasion to sa}% “ It would be a great dis- 
 grace for you, Catulus, who are censor and in- 
 spector of our lives and manners, to be turned 
 out of court by my lictors.” Catulus gave him 
 a look, as if he intended to make answer ; how- 
 ever, he did not speak : either through anger or 
 shame, he went off silent, and greatly discon- 
 certed. Nevertheless, the man was not con- 
 demned. As the number of voices against him 
 
 exceeded those for him by one only, Catulus de- 
 sired the assistance of Marcus Lollius, Cato’s 
 colleague, who was prevented by sickness from 
 attending the trial ; but, upon this application, 
 was brought in a litter into court, and gave the 
 determining voice in favour of the defendant. 
 Yet Cato would not restore him to his employ- 
 ment, or pay him his stipend ; for he considered 
 the partial suffrage of Lollius as a thing of no 
 account. 
 
 The secretaries thus humbled and subdued, he 
 took the direction of the public papers and finances 
 into his own hand. By these means, in a little 
 time he rendered the treasury more respectable 
 than the senate itself; and it was commonly 
 thought, as well as said, that Cato had given the 
 quaestorship all the dignity of the consulate. 
 For, having made it his business to find out all 
 the debts of long standing due to the public, 
 and what the public was indebted to private 
 persons, he settled these affairs in such a manner 
 that the comnaon wealth could no longer either do 
 or suffer any injury in that respect ; strictly de- 
 manding and insisting on the payment of what- 
 ever was owing to the state ; and, at the same 
 time, readily and freely satisfying all who had 
 claims upon it. This naturally gained him re- 
 verence among the people, when they saw many 
 obliged to pay who hoped never to have been 
 called to account ; and many receiving debts 
 which they had given up as desperate. His pre- 
 decessors had often, through interest or persua- 
 sion, accepted false bills, and pretended orders of 
 senate ; but nothing of that kind escaped Cato. 
 There was one order in particular which he sus- 
 pected to be forged, and though it had many 
 witnesses to support it, he would not allow it till 
 the consuls came and declared it upon oath. 
 
 There was a number of assassins emploj’ed in 
 the last proscription, to v.'hom Sylla had given 
 12,000 drackmas for each head they brought him. 
 These were looked upon by all the world as the 
 most execrable villains; yet no man had ventured 
 to take vengeance on them. Cato, however, 
 summoned all who had received the public money 
 for such unjust services, and made them refund ; 
 inveighing at the same time, with equal reason 
 and severity, against their impious and abomin- 
 able deeds. Those wretches, thus disgraced, 
 and, as it were, prejudged, were afterwards in- 
 dicted for murder before the judges, who punished 
 them as they deserved. All ranks of people 
 rejoiced at these executions; they thought the}' 
 saw the tyranny rooted out v.uth these men, -and 
 Sylla himself capitally punished in the death of 
 his ministers. 
 
 The people were also delighted with his inde- 
 fatigable diligence ; for he always came to the 
 treasury before his colleagues, and was the last 
 that left it. There was no assembly of the people, 
 or meeting of the senate, which he did not attend, 
 in order to keep a watchful eye upon all partial 
 remissions of fines and duties, and all unreason- 
 able grants. Thus, having cleared the exchequer 
 of informers and all such vermin, and filled it 
 with treasure, he showed that it is possible for 
 government to be rich without oppressing the 
 subject. At first this conduct of his was very 
 obnoxious to his colleagues, but in time it came 
 to be agreeable ; because, by refusing to give 
 away any of the public money, or to make any 
 partial determination, he stood the rage of dis- 
 
 From 2l superstition which commonly ob- 
 tained, they imagined that a dead body on board 
 a ship would raise a storm. Plutarch, by using 
 the word /uip/ened }\ist belo\v, shows that he did 
 not give in to that superstitious notion, though too 
 apt to do those things. 
 
 t Twenty-four or twentj’-five years of age. 
 
r 
 
 PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 5 ^ 
 
 appointed avarice for them all ; and, to the im- 
 portunity of solicitation they would answer, that 
 they could do nothing without the consent of 
 Cato. 
 
 The last day of his office he was conducted 
 home by almost the whole body of citizens. But, 
 by the way, he was informed that sonie of the 
 principal men in Rome, who had great influence 
 upon Marcellus, were besieging him in the trea- 
 sury, and pressing him to make out an order for 
 sums which they pretended to be due to them, 
 hlarcellus, from his childhood, was a friend of 
 Cato’s, and a good quaestor, while he acted with 
 him ; but, when he acted alone, he was too much 
 influenced by personal regards for petitioners, 
 and by a natural inclination to oblige. Cato, 
 therefore, immediately turned back, and finding 
 Marcellus already prevailed upon to make out 
 the order, he called for the registers, and erased 
 it ; Marcellus all the while standing by in silence. 
 Not content with this, he took him out of the 
 treasury, and led him to his own house. Mar- 
 cellus, however, did not complain, either then or 
 afterwards, but continued the same friendship 
 and intimacy with him to the last._ 
 
 After the time of his qusestorship was expired, 
 Cato kept a watchful eye upon the treasury. He 
 had his servants there daily minuting down the 
 proceedings ; and he spent much time himself in 
 perusing the public accounts from _ the time of 
 Sylla to his own ; a copy of which he had 
 purchased for five talents. 
 
 Whenever the senate was summoned to meet, 
 he was the first to give his attendance, and the 
 last to withdraw ; and oftentimes, while the rest 
 were slowly assembling, he would sit down and 
 read, holding his gown before his book ; nor 
 would he ever be out of town when a house was 
 called. Pompey finding that, in all his unwar- 
 rantable attempts, he must find a severe and 
 inexorable opponent in Cato, when he had a point 
 of that kind to carry, threw in his way either the 
 cause of some friend to plead, or arbitration, or 
 other business to attend to. But Cato soon per- 
 ceived the snare, and rejected all the applications 
 of his friends ; declaring that, when the senate 
 was to sit, he would never undertake any other 
 business. For his attention to the concerns of 
 government was not, like that of some others, 
 guided by the views of honour or profit, nor left 
 to chance or humour ; but he thought a good 
 citizen ought to be as solicitous about the public, 
 as a bee is about her hive.” For this reason he 
 desired his friends, and others with whom he had 
 connections in the provinces, to give him an 
 account of the edicts, the important decisions, 
 and all the principal business transacted there. 
 
 He made a point of it to oppose Clodius the 
 seditious demagogue, who was always proposing 
 some dangerous law, or some change in the con- 
 stitution, or accusing the priests and vestals to 
 the people. Fabia Terentia, sister to Cicero’s 
 wife, and one of the vestals, was irnpeached 
 among the rest, and in danger of being con- 
 demned. But Cato defended the cause of these 
 injured people so v.^ell, that Clodius was forced to 
 withdraw it in great confusion, and leave the 
 citj^ When Cicero came to thank him for this 
 service, he said, “You must thank your country, 
 whose utility is the spring that guides all my 
 actions.” 
 
 His reputation came to be so great that a cer- 
 
 tain orator, in a cause where only one witness 
 was produced, said to the judges, “One man’s 
 evidence is not sufficient to go by, not even if it 
 was Cato’s.” It grew, indeed, into a kind of 
 proverb, when people were speaking ©f strange 
 and incredible things, to say, “ I would not be- 
 lieve such a thing, though it were affirmed by 
 Cato.” 
 
 A man profuse in his expenses, and in all re- 
 spects of a worthless character, taking upon him 
 one day to speak in the senate in praise of 
 temperance and sobriety, Amnseus rose up and 
 said, “Who can endure to hear a man who eats 
 and drinks like Crassus, and builds like Lucullus, 
 pretend to talk here like Cato ? ” Hence others, 
 who were dissolute and abandoned in their lives, 
 but preserved a gravity and austerity in their 
 discourse, came, by way of ridicule, to be called 
 Catos. 
 
 His friends advised him to offer himself for the 
 tribuneship ; but he thought it was not yet time. 
 He sa’d he looked upon an office of such pov^er 
 and authority as a violent medicine, which ought 
 not to be used except in cases of great necessity. 
 As, at that time, he had no public business to 
 engage him, he took his books and philosophers 
 with him, and set out for Lucania, where he had 
 lands, and an agreeable country retreat. By the 
 way he met with a number of horses, carriages, 
 and servants, which he found belonged to Metellus 
 Nepos, who was going to Rome to apply for the 
 tribuneship. This put him to a stand : he re- 
 mained some time in deep thought, and then gave 
 his people orders to turn back. To his friends, 
 who were surprised at this conduct, “ Know ye 
 not,” said he, “ that Metellus is formidable even 
 in his stupidity? But remember, that he now 
 follows the counsels of Pompey ; that the state 
 lies prostrate before him ; and that he will fall 
 upon and crush it with the force of a thunderbolt. 
 Is this then a time for the pursuit of rural ainUse- 
 ments? Let us rescue our liberties, or die in 
 their defence ! ” Upon the remonstrance of his 
 friends, however, he proceeded to his farm ; and 
 after a short stay there, returned to the city. He 
 arrived in the evening, and early next morning 
 went to the fortim, as a candidate for the tribune- 
 ship, in opposition to Metellus ; for to oppose, is 
 the nature of that office ; and its power is chiefly 
 negative : insomuch, that the dissent of a single? 
 voice is sufficient to disannul a measure in which 
 the whole assembly beside has concurred. 
 
 Cato was at first attended only by a small 
 number of his friends ; but, when his_ intentions 
 were, made known, he was immediately sur- 
 rounded by men of honour and virtue, the rest 
 of his acquaintance, who gave him the strongest 
 encouragement, and solicited him to apply for the 
 tribuneship, not as it might imply a favour con- 
 ferred on himself, but as it would be an honour 
 and an advantage to his fellow-citizens : observing, 
 at the same time, that though it had been fre- 
 quently in his power to obtain this office without 
 the trouble of opposition ; yet he now stepped 
 forth, regardless, not only of that trouble, but 
 even of personal danger, when the liberties of his 
 country were at stake. Such was the zeal and 
 eagerness of the people that pressed around him 
 that it was with the utmost difficulty he made his 
 way to the forum. 
 
 Being appointed tribune, with Metellus amongst 
 the' rest, he observed that great corruption had 
 
j CATO THE YOUNGER. -531 j 
 
 1 crept into the consular elections. On this subject 
 ! he gave a severe charge to the people, which he 
 1 concluded, by affirming on oath, that he would 
 ; prosecute every one that should offend in that 
 i way. He took care, however, that Silanus,* who 
 j had married his sister Servilia, should be ex- 
 cepted. But against Murmna, who, by means of 
 bribery, had carried the consulship at the same 
 time with Silanus, he laid an information. By 
 the laws of Rome, the person accused has power 
 to set a guard upon him who lays the information, 
 that he may have no opportunity of supporting a 
 false accusation by private machinations before 
 his trial. When the person that was appointed 
 Muraena’s officer on this occasion observed the 
 liberal and candid conduct of Cato ; that he 
 sought only to support his information by fair 
 and open evidence ; he was so struck with the 
 excellence and dignity of his character, that he 
 would frequently wait upon him in the forum, or 
 at his house, and after inquiring whether he should 
 proceed that day in the business of the informa- 
 tion, if Cato answered in the negative, he made 
 no scruple of leaving him. \Vhen the trial came 
 on, Cicero, who Avas then consul, and hlursena’s 
 advocate, by way of playing upon Cato, threw 
 out many pleasant things against the stoics, and 
 their paradoxical philosophy. This occasioned 
 no small mirth amongst the judges : upon which 
 Cato only observed with a smile, to those who 
 stood next him, that Rome had indeed a most 
 laughable consul. Mursena acted a veiy prudent 
 part with regard to Cato ; for, though acquitted 
 of the charge he had brought against him, he 
 nevertheless consulted him on all occasions of 
 importance during his consulship, respected him 
 for his sense and virtue, and made use of his 
 counsels in the administration of government. 
 For Cato, on the bench, was the most rigid dis- 
 penser of justice; though, in private society, he 
 Avas affable and humane. 
 
 Before he AAms appointed tribune in the consul- 
 ship of Cicero, he supported the supreme magis- 
 trate in a very seasonable manner, by many ex- 
 cellent measures during the turbulent times of 
 Catiline. It is Avell knoAvn that this man meditated 
 nothing less than a total subA^ersion of the Roman 
 state ; and that, by the spirited counsels and con- 
 duct of Cicero, he Avas obliged to fly from Rome 
 ,Avithout effecting his purpose. But Lentulus, 
 Cethegus, and the rest of the conspirators, after 
 reproaching Catiline for his timidity, and the 
 feebleness of his enterprises, resolved to dis- 
 tinguish themselves at least more effectually. 
 Their scheme Avas nothing less than to burn the 
 city, and destroy the empire, by the revolt of the 
 colonies and foreign Avars. Upon the discovery 
 of this conspiracy, Cicero, as Ave have observed 
 in his life, called a council; and the first that 
 spoke AAms Silanus. He gave it as his opinion. 
 
 that the conspirators should be punished wdth the 
 utmost rigour. This opinion Avas adopted by the 
 rest till it came to Caesar. This eloquent man, 
 consistent AAuth whose ambitious principles it Avas 
 rather to encourage than to suppress any threaten- 
 ing innoA^ations, urged, in his usual persuasiA'e 
 m.anner, the propriety of alloAving the accused 
 the priAUlege of trial ; and that the conspirators 
 should only be taken into custody. The senate, 
 AA'ho Avere under apprehensions from the people, 
 thought it prudent to come into this measure ; 
 and e\'en. Silanus retracted, and declared he 
 thought of nothing more than imprisonment, that 
 being the most rigorous punishment a citizen of 
 Rome could suffer. 
 
 This change of sentiments in those Avho spoke 
 first Avas folloAved by the rest, who all gave in to 
 milder measures. But Cato, A\ffio AV'as of a con- 
 trary opinion, defended that opinion Avith the 
 greatest vehenience, eloquence, and energy. He 
 reproached Silanus for his pusillanimity in 
 changing his resolution. He attacked Cmsar, 
 and charged him Avith a secret design of sub- 
 A^erting the government, under the plausible 
 appearance of mitigating speeches and a humane 
 conduct; of intimidating the senate, by the 
 same means, even in a case wffiere he had to 
 fear for himself, and Avherein he might think 
 himself happy if he could be exempted from eA’ery 
 imputation and suspicion of guilt : he, Avho had 
 openly and daringly attempted to rescue from 
 justice the enemies of the state ; and sho\A*n, that 
 so far from having any compassion for his countiy% 
 AAffien on the brink of destruction, he could eA^en 
 pity and plead for the AATetches, the unnatural 
 Avretches, that meditated its ruin, and grieve that 
 their punishment should prevent their design. 
 This, it is said, is the only oration of Cato that is 
 extant. , Cicero had selected a number of the 
 swriftest Avriters, Avhom he had taught the art of 
 abbreviating Avords by characters, and had placed 
 them in different parts of the senate-house. Be- 
 fore his consulate, they had no short-hand Avriters. 
 Cato carried his point ; and it was decreed, agree- 
 ably to his opinion, that the conspirators should 
 suffer capital punishment. 
 
 As it is our intention to exhibit an accurate 
 picture of the mind and manners of Cato, the 
 least circumstance that may contribute to mark 
 them should not escape our notice. While he 
 AA'as warmly contesting his point Avith Ciesar, and 
 the eyes of the Avhole senate Avere upon the dis- 
 putant.s, it is said that a billet Avas brought in 
 and delivered to Csesar. Cato immediately sus- 
 pected, and charged him Avith some traitorous 
 design ; and it A\as moved in the senate, that 
 the billet should be read publicly. Csesar de- 
 livered it to Cato, Avho stood near him ; and the 
 latter had no sooner cast his eye upon it than he 
 perceived it to be the hand of his OAvn sister 
 Servilia, Avho Avas passionately in love Avith Csesar, 
 by Avhqm she had been debauched. He therefore 
 threAv it back* to Csesar, saying, “Take it, you 
 sot,” and went on Avith his discourse. Cato Avas 
 ahvays unfortunate amongst the women. This 
 Servilia A\as infamous for her commerce with 
 Csesar ; and his other sister, Servilia, A\’as in still 
 Av. rse repute ; for, though married to Lucullus, 
 one of the first men in Rome, by w'hom she also 
 had a son, she Avas divorced for her insufferable 
 irregularities. But Avhat Avas most distressful to 
 Cato AA'as, that the conduct of his o\ati A\*ife Atiiia, 
 
 * From this' passage it should seem that 
 Plutarch supposed Cato to be capable of sacrificing 
 to family connections. But the fault lies rather 
 in the historian than in the tribune. For, is it to 
 be supposed that the rigid virtue of Cato should 
 descend to the most obnoxious circumstances of 
 predilection? It is not possible to ha\'e a stronger 
 instance of his integrity than his refusing the 
 alliance of Pompey the Great ; though that refusal 
 w'as impolitic, and attended with bad consequences 
 to the state. 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIVES, 
 
 was by no means unexceptionable ; and that, after 
 having brought him two children, he was obliged 
 to part with her. 
 
 Upon his divorce from Atilia, he married 
 INIarda, the daughter of Philip, a woman of good 
 character ; but this part of Cato’s life, ^ like the 
 plots in the drama, is involved and intricate, 
 Thraseas, upon the authority of Munatius, Cato’s 
 particular friend, who lived under the same roof 
 with him, gives us this account of the matter. 
 Amongst the friends and followers of Cato, some 
 made a more open profession of their sentiments 
 than others. Amongst these was Quintus Hor- 
 tensius, a man of great dignity and politeness. 
 Not contented merely with the friendship of 
 Cato, he was desirous of a family alliance with 
 him ; and for this purpose, he scrupled not to 
 request that his daughter Portia, who was already 
 married to Bibulus, by whom she had two children, 
 might be lent to him, as a fruitful soil for the 
 purpose of propagation. The thing itself, he 
 owned, was uncommon, but by no means un- 
 natural or improper. For why should a woman 
 in the flower of her age, either continue useless, 
 till she is past child bearing, or overburden her 
 husband with too large a family? The mutual 
 use of women, he add-ed, in virtuous families, 
 would not only increase a virtuous offspring, but 
 strengthen and extend the connections of society. 
 Moreover, if Bibulus should be unwilling wholly 
 to give up his wife, she should be restored after 
 she had done him the honour of an alliance to 
 Cato by her pregnancy. Cato answered, that he 
 had the greate.st regard for the friendship _ of 
 Hortensius, but could not think of his application 
 for another man’s wife. Hortensius, however, 
 would not give up the point here ; but when he 
 could not obtain Cato’s daughter, he applied for 
 his wife, saying, that she was yet a young woman, 
 and Cato’s family already large enough. He 
 could not possibly make this request upon a sup- 
 position that Cato had no regard for his wife ; for 
 she was at that very time pregnant. Notwith- 
 standing, the latter, when he observed the violent 
 inclination Hortensius had to be allied to him, 
 did not absolutely refuse him; but said it was 
 necessary to consult Martia’s father, Philip, on 
 the occasion. Philip, therefore, was applied to, 
 and his daughter was espoused to Hortensius 
 in the presence and with the consent of Cato. 
 These circumstances are not related in the proper 
 order of time ; but, speaking of Cato’s connection 
 with the women, I was led to mention them. 
 
 - When the conspirators were executed, and 
 Csesar, who, on account of his calumnies in the 
 senate, was obliged to throw himself on the 
 people, had infused a spirit of insurrection into 
 the worst and lowest of the citizens, Cato, being 
 apprehensive of the consequences, engaged the 
 senate to appease the multitude by a free gift of 
 corn. This cost 1250 talents a year ; but it had 
 the desired effect.* 
 
 Metellus, upon entering on his office as tribune, 
 
 * This is almost one-third more than the sum 
 said to have been expended in the same distribu- 
 tion in the Life of Csesar ; and even there it is 
 incredibly large. But whatever might be the 
 expense, the policy was bad ; for nothing so 
 effectually weakens the hands of government as 
 this method of bribing the populace, and ti^ating 
 them as injudicious nurses do fro ward children. 
 
 held several seditious meetings, and published an 
 edict, that Pompey should bring his troops into 
 Italy, under the pretext of saving the city from 
 the attempts of Catiline. Such was the pretence ; 
 but his real design was to give up the state into 
 the hands of Pompey. 
 
 Upon the meeting of the senate, Cato, instead 
 of treating Metellus with his usual asperity, ex- 
 postulated with great mildness, and had even 
 recourse to entreaty, intimating, at the same time, 
 that his family had ever stood in the interest of 
 the nobility. Metellus, who imputed Cato’s mild- 
 ness to his fears, was the more insolent on that 
 account, and most audaciously asserted that he 
 would carry his purpose into execution, whether 
 the senate would or not. The voice, the air, the 
 attitude of Cato, were changed in a moment ; 
 and, with all the force of eloquence, he declared 
 that while he was living, Pompey should never 
 enter armed into the city. The senate neither 
 approved of the conduct of Cato, or of Metellus. 
 The latter they considered as a desperate and 
 profligate madman, who had no other aim than 
 that of general destruction and confusion. _ The 
 virtue of Cato they looked upon as a kind of 
 enthusiasm, which would ever lead him to arm 
 in the cause of j ustice and the laws. 
 
 When the people came to vote for the edict, a 
 number of aliens, gladiators, and slaves, armed 
 by Metellus, appeared in the forum. He was 
 also followed by several of the commons, who 
 wanted to introduce Pompey, in hopes of a revo- 
 lution ; and his hands were strengthened by the 
 prsetorial power of Csesar. _ Cato, on the other 
 hand, had the principal citizens on his side ; but 
 they were rather sharers in the injury, than 
 auxiliaries in the removal of it. The danger to 
 which he was exposed was now so great that his 
 family was under the utmost concern. The 
 greatest part of his friends and relations came 
 to his house in the evening, and passed the night 
 without either eating or sleeping. _ His wife and 
 sisters bewailed their misfortunes with tears, while 
 he himself passed the_ evening with the utmost 
 confidence and tranquility, encouraging the rest 
 to imitate his example. He supped and went to 
 rest as usual ; and slept soundly till he was waked 
 by his colleague Minutius Thermus. He went 
 to the forum, accompanied by few, but met by 
 many, who advised him to take care of his person. 
 When he saw the temple of Castor surrounded 
 by armed men, the steps occupied by gladiators, 
 and Metellus himself seated on an eminence with 
 Csesar, turning to his friends, “ Which,” said he, 
 “ is most contemptible, the savage disposition, or 
 the cowardice, of him who brings such an army 
 against a man who is naked and unarmed?” 
 Upon this, he proceeded to the place with Ther- 
 mus. Those that occupied the steps fell back to 
 make way. for him ; but would suffer no one else 
 to pass. Munatius only with some difficulty he 
 drew along with him; and, as soon as he entered, 
 he took his seat between Csesar and Metellus, 
 that he might, by that means, prevent their dis- 
 course. This embarrassed them not a little ; and 
 what added to their perplexity, was the counte- 
 nance and approbation that Cato met with from 
 all the honest men that were present, who, while 
 they admired his firm and steady spirit, so strongly 
 marked in his aspect, encouraged him to perse- 
 vere in the cause of liberty, and mutually agreed 
 to support him. 
 
CATO THE YOUNGER, 
 
 533 
 
 Metellus, enraged at this, proposed to read the 
 edict. Cato put in his negative ; and. that having 
 no effect, he wrested it out of his hand. Metellus 
 then attempted to speak it from memory ; but 
 Thermus prevented him by putting his hand upon 
 his moutlL When he found this ineffectual, and 
 perceived that the people were gone over to the 
 opposite partj^, he ordered his armed men to make 
 a not, and throw the whole into confusion. Upon 
 this the people dispersed, and Cato was left alone, 
 exposed to a storm of sticks and stones. But 
 !Muraena, though the former had so lately an 
 information against him, would not desert him. 
 He defended him with his gown from the danger 
 to which he was exposed ; entreated the mob to 
 desist from their violence, and at length carried 
 him off in his arms into the temple of Castor. 
 When INIetellus found the benches deserted, and 
 the adversarj’^ put to the rout, he imagined he 
 had gained his point, and again very modestly 
 proceeded to confirm the edict. The adversa^, 
 however, quickly rallied, and advanced with 
 shouts of the greatest courage and confidence. 
 Metellus’s party, supposing that, by some means, 
 they had got arms, was thrown into confusion, 
 and immediately took to flight. Upon the dis- 
 persion of these, Cato came forward, and, by his 
 encouragement and applause, established a con- 
 siderable party against Metellus. The senate, too, 
 voted that Cato should, at all events, be sup- 
 ported ; and that an edict, so pregnant with every- 
 thing that was jieraicious to order and good 
 government, and had even a tendency to civdi 
 vrar, should be opposed with the utmost rigour. 
 
 Metellus still maintained his resolution ; but 
 finding his fidends mtimidated by the unconquered 
 spirit of Cato, he came suddenly into the open 
 court, assembled the people, said everything ^at 
 he thought might render Cato odious to them ; 
 and declared, that he would have noth.ng to do 
 with the arbitrary principles of that man, or his 
 conspiracy against Pompey, whose disgrace Rome 
 might one day have severe occasion to repent. 
 
 Upon this he immediately set off for Asia to 
 carry an account of these matters to Pompey. 
 And Cato, by ridding the commonwealth of this 
 troublesome tribune, and crushing, as it were, in 
 him, the growing power of Pompe}% obtained the 
 highest reputation. But what made him still 
 more popular was his prevailing on the senate to 
 desist from their purpose of voting Metellus in- 
 famous, and divesting him of the magistracy. 
 His humanity and moderation in not insulting a 
 vanquished enemy, were admired by the people 
 in general ; w^hilst men of pohtical sagacity could 
 see that he thought it prudent not to provoke 
 Pompey too much. 
 
 Soon ^terw’ards, Tucullus returned from the 
 war, which being concluded by Pompey, gave 
 that general, in some measure, the laurels ; and 
 being rendered obnoxious to the people, through 
 the impeachment of Caius Memmius, who op- 
 posed him more from a view of making his court 
 to Pompey than any personal hatred, he was in 
 danger of losing his triumphs. Cato, however, 
 partly because Lucullus was allied to him by 
 marrying his daughter Serviha, and partly because 
 he thought the proceedings unfair, opposed Mem- 
 mius, and by that means exposed himself to great 
 obloquy. But though divested of his tribunitial 
 office, as of a tjuannical authorit3% kad full 
 credit enough to banish Memmius from the courts 
 
 and from the lists. Lucullus, therefore, having 
 obtained his triumph, attached himself to Cato, 
 as to the strongest bulwark against the power of 
 Pompe^^. WTien that great man returned from 
 the w'ar, confident of his interest at Rome, from 
 the magnificent reception he everywhere met 
 with, he scrupled not to send a requisition to the 
 senate, that they would defer the election of 
 consuls till his arrival, that he might support 
 Piso. Whilst they were in doubt about the 
 matter^ Cato, not because he was under any 
 concern about deferring the election, but that 
 he might intercept the hopes and attempts of 
 Pompey, remonstrated against the measure, and 
 (^ried it in the negative. Pompey was not a 
 little disturbed at this ; and concluding, t hat , if 
 Cato were his enemy, he would be the greatest 
 obstacle to his designs, he sent for his fnend 
 Munatius, and commissioned him to demand two 
 of Cato’s nieces in marriage ; the elder for himself, 
 and the younger for bis son. Some say that they 
 were not Cato’s nieces, but his. daughters. Be 
 that as It may, when Alunatius opened i.is com- 
 mission to Cato, in the presence of his wife and 
 sisters, the women were not a little delighted 
 with the splendour of the alliance. But Cato, 
 without a moment’s hesitation, an-; we red, “ Go, 
 Alunatius ; go, and tell Pompey, that Cato is not 
 to be caught in a female snare. Tell him, at the 
 same time, that I am sensible of the honour he 
 does me ; and whilst he continues to act as he 
 ought to do, I shall have that friendship for him 
 which is superior to affinity ; but I will never give 
 hostages, against my country, to the glory of 
 Pomi>ey.” The women, as it is natural to sup- 
 pose, were chagrined : and even the friends of 
 Cato blamed the severity of his answer. But 
 Pompey soon after gave him an opportunity of 
 vindicating his conduct, by ojien bribery in a 
 consular election. “You see now, ” said Cato to 
 the women, “ what would have been the con- 
 sequence of my alliance with Pompey. I should 
 have had my share in all the asjiersions that are 
 thro-ma upon him.” And they owned that he had 
 acted right. However, if one ought to judge 
 from the event, it is clear that Cato did viTong in 
 rejecting the alliance of Pompey. By suffering it 
 to devolve to Caesar, the united power of those 
 two great men went near to overturn the Roman 
 empire. The commonwealth it effectually de- 
 stroyed. But this would never have been the 
 case, had not Cato, to whom the slighter faults of 
 Pompey were obnoxious, suffered him, by thus 
 strengthening his hands, to commit greater crimes. 
 These consequences, howev^er, were only impend- 
 ing at the period under our review. When 
 Lucullus had a dispute with Pompey, concerning 
 their institutions in Pontus (for each wanted to 
 confirm his own), as the former was evidently 
 injured, he had the support of Cato ; while Pom- 
 pey, his j unior in the senate, in order to increase 
 his popularity, proposed the Agrarian law in 
 favour of the army. Cato opposed it, and it 
 was rejected ; in consequence of which Pompey 
 attached himself to Clodius, the most violent and 
 factious of the tribunes ; and much about the 
 same time contracted his alliance with Caesar, to 
 which Cato, in some measmre, led the way. The 
 thing was thus. Caesar, on his return from Spain, 
 was at once a candidate for the consulship, and 
 demanded a triumph. But as the la-w^ of Rome 
 I required that those who sue for the supreme 
 
534 
 
 rLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 magistracy should sue in person ; and those who 
 triumph should be without the walls ; he peti- 
 tioned the senate that he might be allowed to sue 
 for the consulship by proxy. The senate, in 
 general, agreed to oblige Caesar ; and when Cato, 
 the only one that opposed it, found this to be the 
 case, as soon as it came to his turn, he spoke the 
 whole day long, and thus prevented the doing of 
 any business. Caesar, therefore, gave up the 
 affair of the triumph, entered the city, and applied 
 at once for the consulship and the interest of 
 Pompey. As soon as he was appointed consul, 
 he married Julia ; and as they had both entered 
 into a league against the commonwealth, one 
 proposed the laws for the distribution of lands 
 amongst the poor, and the other seconded the 
 proposal. Lucullus and Cicero, in conjunction 
 with Bibulus, the other consul, opposed it. But 
 Cato in particular, who suspected the pernicious 
 consequences of Caesar’s connection with Pompey, 
 was strenuous against the motion ; and said it 
 was not the distribution of lands that he feared so 
 much as the rewards which the cajolers of the 
 people might expect from their favours. 
 
 In this not only the senate agreed with him, 
 but many of the people too, who were reasonably 
 offended by the unconstitutional conduct of 
 Caesar. For whatever the most violent and the 
 maddest of the tribunes proposed for the pleasure 
 of the mob, Caesar, to pay an abject court to 
 them, ratified by the consular authority. When 
 he found his motion, therefore, likely to be over- 
 ruled, his party had recourse to violence, pelted 
 Bibulus the consul with dirt, and broke the rods 
 of his lictors. At length, when darts began to 
 be thrown, and many were 'wounded, the rest of' 
 the senate fled as fast as possible out of the 
 1 forum. Cato was the last that left it ; and, as he 
 walked slowly along, he frequently looked back, 
 and execrated the wickedness and madness of the 
 people. The Agrarian law, therefore, was not 
 only passed, but they obliged the whole senate to 
 take an oath that they would confirm and sup- 
 port it ; and those that should refuse were sen- 
 tenced to pay a heavy fine. Necessity brought 
 most of them into the measure ; for they remem- 
 bered the example of Metellus,* who was ban- 
 ished for refusing to comply, in a similar instance, 
 with the people. Cato was solicited by the tears of 
 the female part of his family, and the entreaties of 
 his friends, to yield and take the oath ; but what 
 principally induced him was the remonstrances 
 and expostulations of Cicero ; who represented to 
 him, that there might not be so much virtue as he 
 imagined in one man’s dissenting from a decree that 
 was established by the rest of the senate : that 
 to expose himself to certain danger, v/ithout even 
 the possibility of producing any good effect, was 
 perfect insanity ; and, what was still worse, to 
 leave the commonwealth, for which he had under- 
 gone so many toils, to the mercy of innovators 
 and usurpers, would look as if he were weary, at 
 last, of his patriotic labours. Cato, he added, 
 might do without Rome ; but Rome could not do 
 without Cato : his friends could not do without 
 him ; himself could not dispense with his assist- 
 ance and support, while the audacious Clodius, 
 by means of his tribunitiai authority, was form- 
 ing the most dangerous machinations against 
 him. By these, and the like remonstrances, 
 
 * Metellus Numidicus. 
 
 solicited at home, and in the forum, Cato, it Is 
 said, was with difficulty prevailed on to take the 
 oath ; and that, his friend Favonius excepted, he 
 was the last that took it. 
 
 Elated with this success. Csesar proposed 
 another act for distributing almost the whole pro- 
 vince of Campania amongst the poor. Cato alone 
 opposed it. And though Csesar dragged him from 
 the bench, and conveyed him to prison, he omitted 
 not, nevertheless, to speak as he passed in de- 
 fence of liberty, to enlarge upon the consequences 
 of the act, and to exhort the citizens to put a 
 stop to such proceedings. The senate, with 
 heavy hearts, and all the virtuous part of the 
 people, followed Cato, with silent indignation. 
 Csesar was not inattentive to the public discon- 
 tent that this proceeding occasioned ; but am- 
 bitiously expecting some concessions on the part 
 of Cato, he proceeded to conduct him to prison. 
 At length, however, when he found these expec- 
 tations vain, unable any longer to support the 
 shame to which this conduct exposed him, he 
 instructed one of the tribunes to rescue him 
 from his officers. The people, notwithstanding, 
 brought into his interest by these public distribu- 
 tions, voted him the province of Illyricum and all 
 Gaul, together with four legions, for the space of 
 five years; though Cato foretold them, at the 
 same time, that they were voting a tyrant into 
 the citadel of Rome. They moreover created 
 Clodius, contrary to the laws (for he was of the 
 patrician order), a tribune of the people ; because 
 they knew he would, in every respect, accede to 
 their wishes with regard to the banishment of 
 Cicero. Calpurnius Piso, the father of Caesar’s 
 wife, and Aulus Gabinius,* a bosom friend of 
 Pompey ’s, as we are told by those who knew him 
 best, they created consuls. 
 
 Yet, though they had everythirlg in their hands, 
 and had gained one part of the people by favour 
 and the other by fear, still they were afraid of 
 Cato. They remembered the pains it cost them 
 to overbear him, and that the violent and com- 
 pulsive measures they had recourse to did them 
 but little honour. Clodius, too, saw that he could 
 not distress Cicero while supported by Cato ; yet 
 this was his great object, and, upon his entering 
 on his' tribunitiai office, he had an interview with 
 Cato ; when, after paying him the compliment of 
 being the honestest man in Rome, he proposed to 
 him, as a testimony of his sincerity, the govern- 
 ment of Cyprus, an appointment which he sfiid 
 had been solicited by many. Cato answered, 
 that, far from being a favour, it was a treacherous 
 scheme and a disgrace ; upon which Clodius, 
 fiercely replied, “ If it is not your pleasure to go, 
 it is mine that you shall go.” And saying this, 
 he went immediately to the senate, and procured 
 a decree for Cato’s expedition. Yet he neither 
 supplied him with a vessel, a soldier, nor a ser- 
 vant, two secretaries excepted, one of whom was 
 a notorious thief, and the other a client of his 
 own. Besides, as if the charge of Cyprus and 
 the opposition of Ptolemy were not a sufficient 
 task for him, he ordered him likewise to restore 
 the Byzantine exiles. But his view in all this was 
 to keep Cato as long as possible out of Rome. 
 
 Plutarch does not mean to repre.sent this 
 friendship in any favourable light. The charac- 
 ter of Gabinius was despicable in every respect, 
 as appears from Cicero’s oration for Sextius. 
 
CATO THE YOUNGER, 535 
 
 Cato, thus obliged to go’, exhorted Cicero, who 
 was at the same time closely hunted by Clo- 
 dius, by no means to involve his coimtry in a 
 civil war, bot to yield to the necessity of the 
 times. 
 
 By means of his friend Canidius, whom he 
 sent before him to Cyprus, he negotiated with 
 Ptolemy in such a manner, that he yielded with- 
 out coming to blows ; for Cato gave him to under- 
 stand, that he should not live in a poor or abject 
 condition, but that he should be appointed high 
 priest to the Paphian Venus.* While this was 
 negotiating, Cato stopped at Rhodes, at once 
 waiting lor Ptolemy’s answer, and making pre- 
 parations for the reduction of the island. 
 
 In the mean time Ptolemy, king of Eg3?pt, whp 
 had left Alexandria upon some quarrel with his 
 subjects, was on his way to Rome, in order to 
 solicit his re-establishment from Cjesar and Pom- 
 pey, by means of the Roman arras. Being in- 
 formed that Cato was at Rhodes, he sent to him, 
 in hopes that he would wait upon him. When 
 his messenger arrived, Cato, who then happened 
 to have taken physic, told him, that if Ptolemy 
 wanted to see him, he might come himself. 
 When he came, Cato neither went forward to 
 meet him, nor did he so much as rise from his 
 seat, but saluted him as he w'ould do a common 
 person, and carelessly bade him sit down. 
 Ptolemy was somewhat hurt by it at first, and 
 surprised to meet with such a supercilious severity 
 of manners in a man of Cato’s mean dress and 
 appearance. However, when he entered into 
 conversation with him concerning his affairs, 
 when he heard his free and nervous eloquence, he 
 was easily reconciled to him. Cato, it seems, 
 blamed his impolitic application to Rome ; repre- 
 sented to him the happiness he had left, and that 
 he was about to expose himself to toils, the 
 plagues of attendance, and, what was still worse, 
 to the avarice of the Reman chiefs, which the 
 whole kingdom of Egypt, converted into money, 
 could not satisfy. He advised him to return 
 with his fleet, and be reconciled to his people, 
 offering him at the same time his attendance and 
 mediation ; and Ptolemy, restored by his repre- 
 sentations, as it were from insanity to reason, 
 admired the discretion and sincerity of Cato, and 
 determined to follow his advice. His friends, 
 nevertheless, brought him back to his former 
 measures ; but he was no sooner at the door of 
 one of the magistrates of Rome than he repented 
 of his folly, and biamed himself for rejecting the 
 virtuous counsels of Cato, as for disobepng the 
 oracle of a god. 
 
 Ptolemy of CjTprus, as Cato’s good stars would 
 have it, took himself off by poison. As he was 
 said to have left a full treasury, Cato being deter- 
 
 This appointment seems to be but a poor 
 exchange for a kingdom ; but when it is remem- 
 bered that, in the Pagan theology, the priests of 
 the gods were not inferior in dignity to princes, 
 and that most of them were of royal families ; 
 when it is considered in what high reputation the 
 Paphian Venus stood amongst the ancients, and 
 what a lucrative as well as honourable office that 
 of her priest must have been, occasioned by the 
 offerings of the prodigious concourse of people 
 who came annually to pay their devotions at her 
 temple ; it will be thought that Ptolemy made no 
 bad bargain for his little island. 
 
 I mined to go himself to Byzantium, sent his 
 nephew Brutus to Cyprus, because he had not 
 sufficient confidence in Canidius : when the exiles 
 ’ were reconciled to the rest of the citizens, and all 
 t things quiet in Byzantium, he proceeded to 
 i ^Cyprus. Here he found the royal furniture very 
 “ magnificent in the articles of vessels, tables, 
 j jewels, and purple, all which were to be con- 
 ; verted into ready money. In the management of 
 I this affair he was very exact, attended at the 
 j sales, took the accounts himself, and brought 
 I every article to the best market. Nor would he 
 i trust to the common customs of sale-factors, 
 
 ’ auctioneers, bidders, or even his own friends ; 
 but had private conferences with the purchasers, 
 in which he urged them to bid higher, so that 
 everything went off at the greatest rate. By this 
 ' means he gave offence to many of his friends, 
 
 I and almost implaca’&ly affronted his particular - 
 I friend Munatius. Caesar, too, in his oration 
 ■ against him, availed himself of this circumstance, 
 and treated him very severely. Munatius, how- 
 i ever, tells us that this misunderstanding was not 
 so much occasioned by Cato’s distrust, as by his 
 = neglect of him, and by his own jealousy of Cani- 
 dius : for ilunatius wrote memoirs of Cato, 
 
 w^hich Thraseas has chiefly followed. He tells 
 us, that he was amongst the last that arrived at 
 . Cyprus, and by that means found nothing but the 
 I refuse of the lodgings ; that he wen: to Cato’s 
 ’ apartments, and was refused admittance, because 
 Cato was privately concerting something with 
 Canidius ; and that when he modestly complained 
 of this conduct, he received a severe answ er from 
 Cato ; who observed, with Theophrastus, that too 
 much love was frequently the occasion of hatred ; 
 and that he, because of the strength of his 
 attachment to him, was angry at the slightest 
 inattention. He told him, at the same time, that 
 he made use of Canidius as a necessary agent, 
 and because fip had more confidence in him than 
 in the rest, having found him honest, though he 
 had been there from the first, and had oppor- 
 tunities of being otherwise. This conversation, 
 w'hich he had in private with Cato, the latter, he 
 informs us, related to Canidius ; and w hen this 
 came to his knowledge, he would neither attend 
 at Cato’s entertainments, nor, though called 
 upon, assist at his councils. Cato threatening to 
 punish him for disobedience, and, as is usual, to 
 take a pledge from him ; * Munatius paid no 
 regard to it, but sailed for Rome, and long re- 
 tained his resentment. Upon Cato’s return, by 
 means of Marcia, w'ho at that time lived w'ith her ; 
 husband, he and ^lunatius were both invited to j 
 sup with Barca. Cato, who came in after the | 
 rest of the company had taken their places, asked | 
 where he should take his place. Barca answered, j 
 where he pleased. ‘"Then,” said he, “I w'ill I 
 take my place by Munatius.” He therefore took I 
 his place next him, but be showed him no other 
 marks of friendship during supper ; afterwards, i 
 however, at the request of -Marcia, Cato wrote to ! 
 him, that he should be glad to see him. He • 
 therefore waited on him at his own house, and 
 being entertained by Marcia till the rest of the 
 
 * When a magistrate refused a summons to the ; 
 senate or public council, the penalty was to take 
 some piece of furniture out of his house, and to , 
 keep it till he should attend. This thej^ called 
 ■pignora capere. 
 
53 ^ PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 morning visitors were gone, Cato came in and 
 embraced him with great kindness. We have 
 dwelt upon these little circumstances the longer, 
 as, in our opinion, they contribute, no less than 
 more public and important actions, towards the 
 clear delineation of manners and characters. 
 
 Cato in his expedition had acquired near 7000 
 talents of silver, and being under some appre- 
 hensions on account of the length of his voyage, 
 he provided a number of vessels that would hold 
 two talents and 500 drachmas a-piece. To each 
 of these he tied a long cord, at the end of which 
 was fastened a large piece of cork, so that if any 
 misfortune should happen to the ship that con- 
 tained them, these buoys might mark the spot 
 wheie they lay. The whole treasure, however, 
 except a very little, was conveyed with safety. 
 Yet his two books of accounts, which he kept 
 very accurate, were both lost ; one by shipwreck 
 \yith his freedman Philargyrus, and the other by 
 fire at Corcyra ; for the sailors, on account of the 
 coldness of the weather, kept fires in the tents by 
 night, and thus the misfortune happened. This 
 troubled Cato, though Ptolemy’s servants, whom 
 he had brought over with him, were sufficient 
 vouchers for his conduct, against enemies and 
 informers. For he did not intend these accounts 
 merely as a proof of his honesty, but to recom- 
 mend the same kind of accuracy and industry to 
 others. 
 
 As soon as his arrival with the fleet was notified 
 m Rome, the magistrates, the priests, the whole 
 senate, and multitudes of the people, went down 
 to the river to meet him, and covered both its 
 banks, so that his reception was something like a 
 triumph. Yet there was an ill-timed haughtiness 
 in his conduct; for, though the consuls and 
 praetors came to wait upon him, he did not so 
 much as attempt to make the shore where they 
 were, but rowed carelessly along in a royal six- 
 oared galley, and did not land till he came into 
 port with his whole fleet. The people, however, 
 were struck with admiration at the vast quantity 
 of money that was carried along the streets, and 
 the senate, in full assembly, bestowed the highest 
 encomiums upon him, and voted him a prsetorship 
 extraordinary,* and the right of attending at the 
 public shows in a prsetexta, or purple-bordered 
 gown. But these honours he thought proper to 
 decline. At the same time he petitioned that 
 they would grant his freedom to Nicias, an officer 
 of Ptolemy’s, in favour of whose diligence and 
 fidelity he gave his own testimony. Philip, the 
 father of Marcia, was consul at that time, and 
 his colleague respected Cato no less for his virtue 
 than Philip might for his alliance, so that he had 
 iri some measure the whole consular interest in 
 his hands. When Cicero returned from that exile 
 to which he had been sentenced by Clodius, his 
 influence was considerable, and he scrupled not, 
 in the absence of Clodius, to pull down and 
 destroy the tnbunitial edicts which the latter had 
 put up in the Capitol. Upon this the senate was 
 assernbled, and Cicero, upon the accusation of 
 Clodius, made his defence, by alleging that 
 Clodius had not been legally appointed tribune, 
 and that, of course, every act of his office was 
 
 null and void. _ Cato interrupted him , and said, 
 that^ he was indeed sensible that the whole 
 administration of_ Clodius had been wicked and 
 absurd ; but that if every act of his office were to 
 be annulled, all that he had done in Cyprus would 
 stand for nothing, because his commission, issuing 
 from a tribune not legally appointed, could not 
 be valid ; that Clodius, though he was of a patri- 
 cian family, had not been chosen tribune con- 
 trary to law, because he had previously been 
 enrolled in the order of plebeians by an act passed 
 for that purpose ; and that, if he had acted un- 
 justly in his office, he was liable to personal im- 
 peachments, while at the same time the office 
 itself retained its proper force and authority. 
 This occasioned a quarrel for some time between 
 Cicero and Cato, but afterwards they were recon- 
 ciled. 
 
 Csesar, upon his return out of Gaul, was met 
 by Pompey and Crassus, and it was agreed that 
 the two last should again stand for the consulship, 
 that Csesar should retain his government five 
 years longer, and that the best provinces, reve- 
 nues, and troops should be secured to themselves. 
 1 his was nothing less than a division of empire, 
 and a plot^ against the liberties of the common- 
 wealth. This dangerous junction deterred many 
 men of distinguished rank and integrity from 
 their design of offering themselves candidates for 
 tne consulship. Cato, however, prevailed on 
 Lucius Domitius, who married his sister, not to 
 give up the point, nor to resign his pretensions ; 
 for that the contest was_ not then for the consul- 
 ship, but for the liberties of Rome. The sober 
 part of the citizens agreed too, that the consular 
 power should not be suffered to grow so enormous 
 by the union of Crassus and Pompey ; but that, 
 at ah events, they were to be separated, and 
 Domitius encouraged and supported in the com- 
 petition. They assured hini, at the same time, 
 that he would have the voices of many of the 
 people, who were at present only silent through 
 fear. Pompey ’s party, apprehensive of this, lay 
 in wait for Domitius, as he went before day by 
 torchlight into the Campiis Martitis. The torch- 
 bearer was killed at the first stroke ; the rest 
 were wounded and fled, Cato and Domitius alone 
 excepted ; for Cato, though he had received a 
 wound in the arm, still kept Domitius on the 
 spot, and conjured him not to desert the cause of 
 liberty while he had life, but to oppose to the 
 utmost those enemies of their country, who 
 showed what use they intended to make of that 
 power which they sought by such execrable 
 means. 
 
 Domitius, however, unable to stand the shock, 
 retired, and Pompey and Crassus were elected 
 consuls. Yet Cato gave up nothing for lost, but 
 solicited a praetorship for himself, that he might 
 from thence, as from a kind of fort, militate against 
 the consuls; and not contend with them in the 
 capacity of a private citizen. The consuls, appre- 
 hensive _that_ the prsetorial power of Cato would 
 not be inferior even to the consular authority, 
 suddenly assembled a small senate, and obtained 
 a decree, that those who were elected praetors 
 should immediately enter upon their office,* with- 
 
 * Cato was then but thirty-eight years of age, 
 and consequently too young to be prsetor in the 
 ordinary way, in which a person could not enter 
 on that office till he was forty. 
 
 * There was always a time allotted between 
 nomination and possession ; that if any undue 
 means had been made use of in the canvass they 
 might be discovered. 
 
CATO THE YOUNGER, 
 
 537 
 
 out waiting the usual time to stand the charge, ■ 
 if any such charge should be brought against 
 them, of bribery and corruption. Bj' this means i 
 they brought in their own creatures and de- I 
 pendents, presided at the election, and gave | 
 money to the populace. Yet still the virtue of } 
 Cato could not totally lose its weight. There 1 
 were still those who had honesty enough to be | 
 ashamed of selling his interest, and wisdom j 
 enough to think that it \vould be of service to the | 
 state to elect him, even at the public expense. ; 
 He therefore was nominated praetor by the votes I 
 of the first-called tribe ; but Pompey scandalously 
 pretending that he heard it thunder, broke up the 
 assembly ; for it is not common for the Romans 
 to do any business if it thunders. After%vards, 
 by means of briben,’-, and by the exclusion of the 
 virtuous part of the citizens from the assembly, 
 they procured Valtinius to be returned praetor 
 instead of Cato. ^ Those electors, it is said, who 
 voted from such iniquitous motives, like so many 
 culprits, immediatel}’^ ran away. To the rest that 
 assembled and expressed their indignation, Cato 
 was empowered bj* one of the tribunes to address 
 himself in a speech; in the course of which he 
 foretold, as if inspired by some divine influence, 
 all those evils that then threatened the common- 
 wealth ; and stirred up the people against Pompey 
 and Cr^us, who, in the consciousness of their 
 guilty intentions, feared the control of the 
 praetorial x>ower of Cato. In his return home he j 
 was followed by a greater multitude than all that } 
 had been appointed praetors united. i 
 
 WTen Caius Trebonius moved for the distribu- ' 
 tion of the consular pro\nnces, and proposed ' 
 gi^*lng Spain and Africa to one of the consuls, | 
 and S 3 Tna and Eg^qit to the other, together with 
 fleets and armies, and an unlimited power of 
 making war and extending dominion, the rest of 
 the senate, thinking opposition vain, forbore to j 
 ^eak against the motion. Cato, however, before ■ 
 it was put to the vote, ascended the rostrum in 
 order to speak, but he was limited to the space of 
 two hours ; and when he had spent this time in 
 repetitions, instructions, and predictions, and was 
 proceeding in his discourse, the lictor took him 
 down from the rostrum. Yet still, when below ■ 
 amongst the people, he persisted to speak in 
 behalf of liberty ; and the people readilj" attended 
 to him, and joined in his indignation, till the 
 consul’s beadle again laid hold of him and turned 
 him out of the f(mi77i. He attempted, notwith- 
 standing, to return to his place, and excited the 
 I>eople to assist him ; which being done more than 
 cnce, Trebonius, in a violent rage, ordered him j 
 to prison. Thither he was followed bj" the ' 
 populac^, to whom he addressed himself as he ^ 
 w’ent, till, at last, Trebonius, through fear, dis- 
 missed him. Thus Cato was rescued that da 5 \ ! 
 But, afterwards, the people being partly over- ' 
 awed, and partly corrupted, the consular party 
 prevented Aquilius, one of the tribunes, by force 
 of arms, from coming out of the senate-house into 
 the assembly, wmuuded manj', killed some, and 
 thrust Cato, who said it thundered, out of the 
 foru77ii so that the law was passed by compulsion. 
 This rendered Pompey so obnoxious, that the 
 p>eople were going to pull down his statues, but 
 were prevented by Cato. Afterwards, tvhen the 
 law was proposed for the allotment of Csesar s 
 provinces, Cato, addressing himself particularly 
 to Pompjej*, told him with great confidence he 
 
 did not then consider that he was taking Caesar 
 upon his shoulders ; but when he began to find 
 his weight, and could neither support it nor shake 
 him off, they would both fall together, and crush 
 the commonwealth in their fall ; and then he 
 should find, too late, that the counsels of Cato 
 were no less sslutary for himself than intrinsically 
 just. Yet Pompey, though he often heard these 
 things, in the confidence of his fortune and his 
 power despised them, and feared no reverse from 
 the part of Caesar. 
 
 Cato was the following j-ear appointed praetor ; 
 but he can hardly be said to have contributed so j 
 much to the dignity of that high office by the 
 rectitude of his conduct, as to have derogated 
 from it by the meanness of his dress ; for he 
 would often go to the praetorial bench without his 
 robe or his shoes, and sit in judgment, even in 
 capital cases, on some of the first personages in 
 Rome. Some will have it, that he passed sentence 
 when he had drank after dinner, but that is not 
 true. He was resolved to extirpate that extreme 
 corruption which then prevailed amongst the 
 people in elections of every kind ; and, in order 
 to effect this, he moved that a law should be 
 passed in the senate, for every candidate, though 
 no information should be laid, to declare upon 
 oath in what manner he obtained his election. 
 This gave offence to the candidates, and to the 
 more mercenary part of the people. So that, as 
 Cato was going in the morning to the tribunal, he 
 was so much insulted and pelted with stones by 
 the mob, that the whole court fled, and he with 
 difficulty escaped into the rostrum. There he 
 stood, and his firm and steady* aspect soon hushed 
 the clamours and disorders of the populace ; so 
 that when he spoke upon the subject, he was 
 heard with a general silence.* The senate 
 publicly testified their approbation of his con- 
 duct ; but he answered, that no compliment could 
 be paid to them at least for deserting the prsetor, 
 and declining to assist him when in manifest 
 danger. This measiue distressed the candidates 
 considerably; for, on the one hand, they were 
 afraid of gi^’ing bribes, and on the other, they 
 were apprehensive of losing their election, if it 
 should be done by their opponents. They thought 
 it best, therefore, jointly, to deposit 500 sestertia 
 each,t then to canvass in a fair and legal manner, 
 and if any one should be convicted of bribery, he ' 
 should forfeit his deposit. Cato was appointed 
 guarantee of this agreement, and the money was 
 to be lodged in his hand ; but for this he accepted 
 
 * This circumstance in Cato’s life affords a 
 good comment on the following passage in \hrgil, 
 and at the same time the laboured dignity and 
 weight of that verse, — 
 
 Pietate gravem et mentis si forte vinim quem, 
 convex's a very strong and just idea of Cato. 
 
 Ac veluti magno in populo cum ssepe coorta est 
 Seditio, ssevitque animis ignobile \mlgus ; 
 
 Jamque faces et saxa voi^t; furor arma minis- 
 trat. 
 
 Turn, pietate gravem et meritis si forte virura ’ 
 quem 
 
 Conspexere, silent, arrectisque auribus adstant : 
 
 I lie regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet. 
 
 Yirg. ^n. 1. 
 
 t Cicero speaks of this agreement in one of his 
 epistles to Atticus. 
 
PLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 538 ^ 
 
 of sureties, when the day of election came, Cato 
 stood next to the tribune who presided, and, as 
 he examined the votes, one of the depositing 
 candidates appeared to have made use of some 
 fraud. He therefore ordered him to pay the 
 money to the rest. But, after complimenting the 
 integrity of Cato, they remitted the fine, and said 
 that the guilt was a sufficient punishment. Cato, 
 however, rendered himself obnoxious to many bj?' 
 this conduct, who seemed displeased that he 
 affected both the legislative and judicial powers. 
 Indeed, there is hardly any authority so much 
 exposed to envy as the latter, and hardly any 
 virtue so obnoxious as that of justice, owing to 
 the popular weight and influence that it always 
 carries along with it. For though he who ad- 
 ministers justice in a virtuous manner may not be 
 respected as a man of valour, nor admired as a 
 man of parts, yet his integrity is always pro- 
 ductive of love and confidence. Valour produces 
 fear, and parts create suspicion ; they are dis- 
 tinctions, moreover, which are rather given than 
 acquired. One arises from a natural acuteness, 
 the other from a natural firmness of mind. How- 
 ever, as justice is a virtue so easily practicable and 
 obtainable, the opposite vice is proportionably 
 odious. 
 
 Thus Cato became obnoxious to the chiefs of 
 Rome in general. But Pompey in particular, 
 whose glory was to rise out of the ruins of his 
 power, laboured with unwearied assiduity to pro- 
 cure impeachments against him. The incendiary 
 Clodius, who had again entered the lists of Pom- 
 pey, accused Cato of embezzling a quantity of the 
 Cyprian treasure, and of raising an opposition to 
 Pompey, because the latter had refused to accept 
 of his daughter in marriage. Cato, on the other 
 hand, maintained, that though he was not so 
 much as supplied with a horse, or a soldier, by 
 the government, yet he had brought more treasure 
 to the commonwealth from Cyprus, than Pompey 
 had done from so many wars and triumphs over 
 the harassed world. He asserted that he never 
 even wished for the alliance of I^ompey, not 
 because he thought him unworthy, but because 
 of the difference of their political principles. 
 “For my own part,” said he, “I rejected the 
 province offered me as an appendage to my pras- 
 torship ; but for Pompey, he arrogated some 
 provinces to himself, and some he bestowed on his 
 friends. Nay, he has now, without even solicit- 
 ing your consent, accommodated Caesar in Gaul 
 with 6000 soldiers. Such forces, armaments, and 
 horses, are now, it seems, at the disposal of private 
 men : and Pompey retains the title of commander 
 and general, while he delegates to others the 
 legions and the provinces ; and continues within 
 the walls to preside at elections, the arbiter of the 
 mob, and the fabricator of sedition. From this 
 conduct his principles are obvious. He holds it 
 but one step from anarchy to absolute power.”* 
 Thus Cato maintained his party against Pompey. 
 
 Marcus Favonius v/as the intimate friend and 
 
 * This maxim has been verified in almost every 
 state. When ambitious men aimed at absolute 
 power, their first measure was to impede the 
 regular movements of the constitutional govern- 
 ment by throwing all into confusion, that they 
 might ascend to monarchy as^ yEneas went to the 
 throne of Carthage, involved in a cloud. 
 
 imitator of Cato as Apollodorus Phalereus* is, 
 said to have been of Socrates, whose discourses 
 he was transported with even to madness or 
 intoxication. This Favonius stood for the office 
 of sedile, and apparently lost it ; but Cato, upon 
 examining the votes, and finding them all to be 
 written in the same hand, appealed against the 
 fraud, and the tribunes set aside the election. 
 Favonius, therefore, was elected, and in the dis- 
 charge of the several offices of his magistracy he 
 had the assistance of Cato, particularly in the 
 theatrical entertainments that were given to the 
 people. In these Cato gave another specimen of 
 his economy ; for he did not allow the players and 
 musicians crowns of gold, but of wild olive, such 
 as they use in the Olympic games. Instead of 
 expensive presents, he gave the Greeks beets and 
 lettuces, and radishes and parsley and the 
 Romans he presented with jugs of wine, pork, 
 figs, cucumbers, and faggots of wood. Some 
 ridiculed the meanness of his presents, while 
 others were delighted with this relaxation from 
 the usual severity of his manners. And Favonius, 
 who appeared only as a common person amongst 
 the spectators, and had given up the manage- 
 ment of the whole to Cato, declared the same to 
 the people, and publicly applauded his conduct, 
 exhorting him to reward merit of every kind. 
 Curio, the colleague of Favonius, exhibited at the 
 same time in the other theatre a very magnificent 
 entertainment ; but the people left him, and were 
 much more entertained with seeing Favonius act 
 the private citizen, and Cato master of the cere- 
 monies. It is probable, however, that he took 
 this upon him only to show the folly of trouble- 
 some and expensive preparations in matters of 
 mere amusement, and that the benevolence and 
 good humour suitable to such occasions would 
 have better effect. 
 
 When Scipio, Hypsseus, and Milo, were candi- 
 dates for the consulship, and, beside the usual 
 infamous practices of bribery and corruption, had 
 recourse to violence and murder and civil war, it 
 was proposed that Pompey should be appointed 
 protector of the election. But Cato opposed this, 
 and said that the laws should not derive their 
 security from Pompey, but that Pompey should 
 owe his to the laws. 
 
 However, when the consular power had been 
 long suspended, and the forum was in some 
 measure besieged by three armies, Cato, that 
 things might not come to the worst, recommended 
 to the senate to confer that power on Pompey as 
 a favour, with which his own influence would 
 otherwise invest him ; and by that means to make 
 a less evil the remedy for a greater. Bibulus, 
 therefore, an agent of Cato’s, moved in the senate 
 that Pompey should be created sole consul ; 
 adding, that his administration would either be 
 of the greatest service to the state, or that, at 
 least, if the commonwealth must have a master, it 
 would have the satisfaction of_ being under the 
 auspices of the greatest man in Rome. Cato, 
 contrary to every one’s expectation, seconded the 
 motion, intimating that any government was pre- 
 ferable to anarchy, and that Pompey promised 
 fair for a constitutional administration, and for 
 the preservation of the city. 
 
 * See Plato’s Phaedo, and the beginning of the 
 Symposium. This Apollodorus was surnamed 
 Manicus from his passionate enthusiasm. 
 
CATO THE 
 
 Pompey being thus elected consul, invited Cato 
 to his house in the suburbs. He received him 
 with the greatest caresses and acknowledgments, 
 and entreated him to assist in his adniinistration, 
 and to preside at his councils. Cato answered 
 that he had neither formerly opposed Pompey 
 out of private enmity, nor supported him of late 
 out of personal favour; but that the welfare of 
 the state had been his motive in both : that, in 
 private, he would assist him with his council 
 whenever he should be called upon ; but that, in 
 public, he should speak his sentiments, whether 
 they might be in Pompey’s favour or not. And 
 he did not fail to do as he had said. For, soon 
 after, when Pompey proposed severe punishments 
 and penalties against those who had been guilty 
 of bribery, Cato gave it as his opinion, that the 
 past should be overlooked, and the future only 
 adverted to : for that, if he should scrutinize into 
 former offences of that kind, it would be difficult 
 to say where it would en-d ; and should he estab- 
 lish penal laws, ex post facto, it would be hard 
 that those who were convicted of former offences 
 should suffer for the breach of those laws 
 which were then not in being. Afterwards, too, 
 when impeachments were brought against several 
 persons of rank, and some of Pompey’s friends 
 amongst the rest, Cato, when he observed that 
 Pompey favoured the latter, reproved him with 
 great freedom, and urged him to the discharge of 
 his duty. Pompey had enacted, that encomiums 
 should no longer be spoken in favour of the 
 prisoner at the bar : and yet, he gave in to the 
 court a written encomium on Munatius Plancus,* 
 when he was upon his trial ; but Cato, when he 
 observed this, as he was one of the judges, stopped 
 his ears, and forbade the apology to be read. 
 Plancus, upon this, objected to Cato’s being one 
 of the judges ; yet he was condemned notwith- 
 standing. Indeed Cato gave the criminals in 
 general no small perplexity ; for they were equally 
 afraid of having him for their judge, and of object- 
 ing to him ; as in the latter case it was generally 
 understood that they were unwilling to rely on 
 their innocence, and by the same means were 
 condemned. Nay, to object to the judgment of 
 Cato became a common handle of accusaticn and 
 reproach. 
 
 Caesar, at the same time that he was prosecuting 
 the war in Gaul, was cultivating his interest in 
 the city by all that friendship and munificence 
 could effect. Pompey saw this, and waked, as 
 from a dream, to the warnings of Cato : yet he 
 remained indolent ; and Cato, who perceived the 
 political necessity of opposing Caesar, determined 
 himself to stand for the consulship, that he might 
 thereby oblige him either to lay down his arms 
 or discover his designs. Cato’s competitors were 
 both men of credit ; but Sulpicius,! who was one 
 of them, had himself derived great advantages 
 from the authority of Cato. On this account, 
 he was censured as ungrateful ; though Cato was 
 not offended ; “ For what wonder,” said he, “is 
 
 * Munatius Plancus, who in the Greek is 
 mistakenly called Flaccus, was then tribune of 
 the people. He was accused by Cicero, and de- 
 fended by Pompey, but unanimously condemned. 
 
 t The competitors were M. Claudius Marcel- 
 lus, and Servius Sulpicius Rufus. The latter, 
 according to Dion, was chosen for his knowledge 
 of the laws, and the former for his eloquence. 
 
 YOUNGER. 539 
 
 it, that what a man esteems the greatest happi- 
 ness he should not give up to another ? ” He 
 procured an act in the senate, that no candidate 
 should canvass by means of others. This ex- 
 asperated the people, because it cut off at once 
 the means of cultivating favour, and conveying 
 bribes ; and thereby rendered the lower order of 
 citizens poor and insignificant. It was in some 
 measure owing to this act that he lost the consul- 
 ship ; for he consulted his dignity too much to 
 canvass in a popular manner himself ; and his 
 friends could not then do it for him. ^ 
 
 A repulse, in this case, is for some time attended 
 with shame and sorrow both to the candidate and 
 his friends ; but Cato was so little affected by it 
 that he anointed himself to play at ball, and 
 walked as usual after dinner with his friends in 
 the fortcm, without his shoes or his tunic. Cicero, 
 sensible how much Rome wanted such a consul, 
 at once blamed his indolence, with regard to 
 courting the people on this occasion, and his 
 inattention to future success ; whereas he had 
 twice applied for the prastorship. Cato answered, 
 that his ill success in the latter case was not 
 owing to the aversion of the people, but to the 
 corrupt and compulsive measures used amongst 
 them ; whilst in an application for the consulship 
 no such measures could be used ; and he was 
 sensible, therefore, that the citizens were offended 
 by those manners which it did not become a wise 
 man either to change for their sakes, or by re- 
 peating his application, to expose himself to the 
 same ill success. 
 
 Csesar had, at this time, obtained many dan- 
 gerous victories over warlike nations ; and had 
 fallen upon the Germans, though at peace with 
 the Romans, and slain 300,000 of them. Many 
 of the citizens, on this occasion, voted a public 
 thanksgiving ; but Cato was of a different opinion, 
 and said, that Caesar should be given up to the 
 nations he had injured, that his conduq^ might 
 not bring a curse upon the city ; yet the gods, 
 he said, ought to be thanked, notwithstanding, 
 that the soldiers had not suffered for the madness 
 and wickedness of their general, but that they 
 had in mercy spared the state. Caesar, upon 
 this, sent letters to the senate lull of invectives 
 against Cato. When they were read, Cato rose 
 with great calmness, and in a speech, so regular 
 that is seemed premeditated, said, that, with re- 
 gard to the letters, as they contained nothing but 
 a little of Caesar’s buffoonery, they deserved not 
 to be answered : and then, laying open the whole 
 plan of Caesar’s conduct, more like a friend who 
 knew hisbosom counsels than an enemy, he showed 
 the senate that it was not the Britons or the 
 Gauls they had to fear, but Caesar himself. This 
 alarmed them so much, that Caesar’s friends were 
 sorry they had produced the letters that occasioned 
 it. Nothing, however, was then resolved upon : 
 only it was debated concerning the propriety 
 of appointing a successor to Caesar ; and when 
 Caesar’s friends required, that, in case thereof, 
 Pompey too should relinquish his army, and give 
 up his provinces ; “Now,” cried Cato, “ is coming 
 to pass the event that I foretold.* It is obvious. 
 
 * But was not this very impolitic in Cato? 
 Was it not a vain sacrifice to his ambition of 
 prophecy ? Cssar could not long remain un- 
 acquainted with what had passed in the senate ; 
 and Cato’s observation on this occasion was not 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 S40 
 
 that Caesar will have recourse to arms ; and that 
 the power which he has obtained by deceiving 
 the people, he will make use of to enslave them.” 
 However, Cato had but little influence out of the 
 senate, for the people were bent on aggrandizing 
 Caesar ; and even the senate, while convinced by 
 the arguments of Cato, was afraid of th^e people. 
 
 When the news was brought that Caesar had 
 taken Ariminum, and was advancing with his 
 army towards Rome, the people in general, and 
 even Pompey, cast their eyes upon Cato, as_ on 
 the only person who had foreseen the original 
 designs of Caesar. “ Had ye then,” said Cato, 
 “ attended to my counsels, you would neither 
 now have feared the power of one man, nor 
 would it have been in one man that you should 
 have placed your hopes.” Pompey answered, 
 that Cato had indeed been a better prophet, but 
 that he had himself acted a more friendly part. 
 And Cato then advised the senate to put every- 
 thing into the hands of Pompey : “For the 
 authors of great evils,” he said, “know best 
 how to remove them.” As Pompey perceived 
 that his forces were insufficient, and even the 
 few that he had by no means hearty in his cause, 
 he thought proper to leave the city. Cato, being 
 determined to follow him, sent his youngest son 
 to Munatius, who was in the country^ of the 
 Brutii, and took the eldest along with him. As 
 his family, and particularly his daughters, wanted 
 a proper superintendent, he took Marcia^ again, 
 who was then a rich widow ; for Hortensius was 
 dead, and had left her his whole estate. This 
 circumstance gave Caesar occasion to reproach 
 Cato with his avarice, and to call him the _ mer- 
 cenary husband. “ For why,” said he, “ did he 
 part with her, if he had occasion for her himself? 
 And, if he had not occasion for her, why did he 
 take her again ? The reason is obvious. It was 
 the wealth of Hortensius. He lent the young 
 man his wife, that he might make her a rich 
 widow.” But, in answer to this, one need only 
 quote that passage of Euripides — 
 
 Call Hercules a coward ! 
 
 For it would be equally absurd to reproach Cato 
 with covetousness as it would be to charge Her- 
 cules with want of courage. Whether the c9nduct 
 of Cato was altogether unexceptionable in this 
 affair is another question. However, as soon 
 as he had remarried Marcia, he gave her the 
 charge of his family, and followed Pompey. 
 
 From that time, it is said that he neither cut 
 his hair, nor shaved his beard, nor wore a gar- 
 land ; but was uniform in his dress, as in his 
 anguish for his country On which side soever 
 victory might for a while declare, he changed 
 
 much more discreet than it would be to tell a 
 madman, who had a flambeau in his hand, that 
 he intended to bum a house. Cato, in our 
 opinion, with all his virtue, contributed no less 
 to the destruction of the commonwealth than 
 Caesar himself. Wherefore did he idly exasperate 
 that ambitious man, by objecting against a public 
 thanksgiving for his victories ? There was a pre- 
 judice in that part of Cato’s conduct which had 
 but the shadow of virtue to support it. Nay, 
 it is more than probable, that it was out of spite 
 to Caesar that Cato gave the whole consular 
 power to Pompey. It must be remembered that 
 Caesar had debauched Cato’s sister. 
 
 not on that account his habits. Being appointed 
 to the government of Sicily, he passed over to 
 Syracuse ; and finding that Asinius Pollio was 
 arrived at Messenia with a detachment from the 
 enemy, he sent to him to demand the reason of 
 his coming ; but Pollio only answered his question 
 by another, and demanded of Cato to know the 
 cause of those revolutions. When he was in- 
 formed that Pompey had evacuated Italy, and 
 was encamped at Dyrrhachium, “ How mys- 
 terious,” said he, “are the ways of Providence ! 
 When Pompey neither acted upon the principles 
 of wisdom nor of justice, he was invincible ; but 
 now that he would save the liberties of his 
 country, his good fortune seems to have forsaken 
 him.” Asinius, he said, he could easily drive out 
 of Sicily ; but as greater supplies were at hand, 
 he was unwilling to involve the island in war. 
 He therefore advised the Syracusans to consult 
 their safety by joining the stronger party : and 
 soon after set sail. When he came to Pompey, 
 his constant sentiments were, that the war should 
 be procrastinated in hopes of peace ; for that, if 
 they came to blows, which party soever might be 
 successful, the event would be decisive against 
 the liberties of the state. He also prevailed on 
 Pompey, and the council of war, that neither any 
 city subject to the Romans should be sacked, 
 nor any Roman killed, except in the field of 
 battle. By this he gained great glory, and 
 brought over many, by his humanity, to the 
 interest of Pompey. 
 
 When he went into Asia for the purpose of 
 raising men and ships, he took with him his sister 
 Servilia, and a little boy that she had by Lucullus ; 
 for, since the death of her husband, she had lived 
 with him ; and this circumstance of putting her- 
 self under the eye of Cato, and of following him 
 through the severe discipline of camps, greatly 
 recovered her reputation : yet Caesar did not fail 
 to censure Cato even on her account. 
 
 Though Pompey’s officers in Asia did not think 
 that they had much need of Cato’s assistance, yet 
 he brought over the Rhodians to their interest ; 
 and there leaving his sister Servilia and her son, 
 he joined Pompey’s forces, which were now on a 
 respectable footing, both by sea and land. It 
 was on this occasion that Pompey discovered his 
 final views. At first, he intended to have given 
 Cato the supreme naval command ; and he had then 
 no fewer than 500 men of war, beside an infinite 
 number of open galleys and tenders. Reflecting, 
 however, or reminded by his friends, that Cato’s 
 great principle was on all occasions to rescue the 
 commonwealth from the government of an in- 
 dividual ; and that, if invested with so consider- 
 able a power himself, the moment Caesar should be 
 vanquished, he would oblige^ Pompey too to lay 
 down his arms, and submit to the laws ; he 
 changed his intentions, though he had already 
 mentioned them to Cato, and gave the command 
 of the fleet to Bibulus. The zeal of Cato, how- 
 ever, was not abated by this conduct. When 
 they were on the eve of battle at Dyrrhachium, 
 Pompey himself addressed and encouraged the 
 army, and ordered bis officers to do the same. 
 Their addresses, notwithstanding, were coldly 
 received. But when Cato rose and spoke, upon 
 the principles of philosophy, concerning liberty, 
 virtue, death, and glory ; when, by his impas- 
 sioned action, he showed that he felt what he 
 spoke, and that his eloquence took its glowing 
 
CA TO THE YO UNGER. 541 
 
 colours from his soul ; when he concluded with 
 an invocation to the gods, as witnesses of their 
 efforts for the preservation of their country ; — the 
 plaudits of the army rent the skies, and the 
 generals marched on in full confidence of victory. 
 They fought, and were victorious ; though Caesar’s 
 good genius availed him of the frigid caution and 
 diffidence of Pompey, and rendered the victory 
 incomplete. But these things have been men- 
 tioned in the Life of Pompey. Amid the general 
 joy that followed this success, Cato alone mourned 
 over his country’’, and bewailed that fatal and 
 cruel ambition which covered the field with the 
 bodies of citizens fallen by the hands of each 
 other. When Pompey, in pursuit of Caesar, pro- 
 ceeded to Thessaly, and left in Dyrrhachium a 
 large quantity of arms and treasure, together 
 with some friends and relations, he gave the 
 whole in charge to Cato, with the command of 
 fifceen cohorts only ; for still he was afraid of his 
 republican principles. If he should be vanquished, 
 indeed, he knew Cato would be faithful to him ; 
 but if he should be victor, he knew, at the same 
 time, that he would not permit him to reap the_ 
 reward of conquest in the sweets of absolute power.' 
 Cato, however, had the satisfaction of being at- 
 tended by many illustriou s persons inDyrrhachium. 
 
 After the fatal overthrow at Pharsalia, Cato 
 determined, in case of Pompey’s death, to con- 
 duct the people under his charge to Italy, and 
 then to retire into exile, far from the cognizance 
 of the power of the tyrant ; but if Pompey sur- 
 vived, he was resolved to keep his little forces 
 together for him. With this design, he passed 
 into Corcyra, where the fleet was stationed : and 
 would there have resigned his command to Cicero, 
 because he had been consul and himself only 
 prsetor. But Cicero declined it, and set sail for 
 Italy. Pompey the Younger resented this defec- 
 tion, and was about to lay violent hands on Cicero 
 and some others, but Cato prevented him by pri- 
 vate expostulation ; and thus saved the lives both 
 of Cicero and the rest. 
 
 Cato, upon a supposition that Pompey the Great 
 would make his escape into Egypt or Libjm, pre- 
 pared to follow him, together with his little force, 
 after having first given, to such as chose it, the 
 liberty of staying behind. As soon as he had 
 reached the African coast, he met with Sextus, 
 Pompey’s younger son, who acquainted him with 
 the death of his father. This greatly afflicted the 
 little band; but as Pompey was no more, they 
 unanimously resolved to have no other leader than 
 Cato. Cato, out of compassion to the honest men 
 that had put their confidence in him, and because 
 he would not leave them destitute in a foreign 
 country, took upon him the command. He first 
 made for Cyrene, and was received by the people, 
 though they had before shut their gates against 
 Labienus. Here he understood that Scipio, 
 Pompey 's father-in-law, was entertained by Juba ; 
 and that Appius Varus, to whom Pompey had 
 given the government of Africa, had joined them 
 with his forces. Cato, therefore, resolved to 
 march to them by land, as it was now winter. 
 He had got together a great many asses to carry 
 water ; and furnished himself also with cattle and 
 other victualling provisions, as well as with a 
 number of carriages. He had likewise in his train 
 some of the people called Psylli,* who obviate the 
 
 * These people were so called from their king 
 
 bad effects of the bite of serpents, by sucking out 
 the poison ; and deprive the serpents themselves 
 of their ferocity by their charms. During a con- 
 tinued march for seven daj's, he was always fore- 
 most, though he made use of neither horse nor 
 chariot. Even after the unfortunate battle of 
 Pharsalia, he ate sitting,* intending it as an 
 additional token of mourning, that he never la}’’ 
 down except to sleep. 
 
 By the end of winter he reached the place of 
 his designation in Lybia, with an army of near 
 10,000 men. The affairs of Scipio and Varus 
 were in a bad situation, by reason of the mis- 
 understanding and distraction which prevailed 
 between them, and which led them to pay their 
 court with great servility to Juba, whose wealth 
 and power rendered him intolerably arrogant. 
 For when he first gave Cato audience, he took 
 his place between Scipio and Cato. But Cato 
 took up his chair and removed it to the other 
 side of Scipio ; thus giving him the most hon- 
 ourable place, though he was his enemy, and had 
 published a libel against him. Cato’s adversaries 
 have not paid proper regard to his spirit on this 
 occasion, but they have been ready enough to 
 blame him for putting Philostratus in the middle, 
 when he was walking with him one day in Sicily, 
 though he did it entirely out of regard to philo- 
 sophy. In this manner he humbled Juba, who 
 had considered Scipio and Varus as little more 
 than his lieutenants ; and he took care also to 
 reconcile them to each other. 
 
 The whole army then desired him to take the 
 command upon him ; and Scipio and Varus 
 readily offered to resign it : but he said he 
 
 Psyllus, whose tomb was in the region of the 
 Syrtes. Varro tells us, that to try the legitimacy 
 of their children, they suffer them to be bitten 
 by a venomous serpent ; and if they sur\uve the 
 wound, they conclude that they are not spurious. 
 Crates Pergamenus says, there were a people of 
 this kind at Paros on the Hellespont, called 
 Ophiogenes, whose touch alone was a cure for the 
 bite of a serpent. Celsus obsers^es, that the Psylli 
 suck out the poison from the wound, not by any 
 superior skill or quality, but because they have 
 courage enough to do it. Some writers have 
 asserted that the Psylli have an innate quality in 
 their constitution that is poisonous to serpents ; 
 and that the smell of it throws them into a pro- j 
 found sleep. Plin}’- maintains, that every man 
 has in himself a natural poison for serpents ; and 
 that those creatures will shun the human saliva, as 
 they would boiling water. The fasting saliva, in 
 particular, if it comes within their mouths, kills 
 them immediately. If, therefore, we may believe 
 that the human saliva is an antidote to the poison 
 of a serpent, we shall have no occasion to believe, 
 at the same time, that the Psylli were endowed 
 with any peculiar qualities of this kind, but that 
 their success in these operations arose, as Celsus 
 says. Ex andacia itsa. co 7 iJir 7 naU%. However, 
 they made a considerable trade of it ; and we are 
 assured, that they have been known to import the 
 African serpents into Italy, and other countries, 
 to increase their gain. Pliny says, they brought 
 scorpions into Sicily, but they would not live in 
 that island. 
 
 * The consul Varro did the same after the 
 battle of Cannse. It was a ceremony of mourn- 
 iiig- ( 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 542 
 
 would not transgress the laws, for the sake of 
 which he was waging war with the man who 
 trampled upon them ; nor, when he was only pro- 
 prietor, take the command from a proconsid. 
 For Scipio had been appointed proconsul; and 
 his name inspired the generality with hopes of 
 success ; for they thought a Scipio could not be 
 beaten in Africa. 
 
 Scipio being established commander in chief, to 
 gratify Juba, was inclined to put all the inhabi- 
 tants of Utica to the sword, and to raze the city 
 as a place engaged in the interest of Cjesar. But 
 Cato would not suffer it : he inveighed loudly in 
 council against that design, invoking heaven and 
 earth to oppose it ; and, with much difficulty, 
 rescued that people out of the hands of cruelty. 
 After which, partly on their application, and 
 partly at the request of Scipio, he agreed to Ja^ce 
 the command of the town, that it might neither 
 willingly nor unwillingly fall into the hands of 
 Csesar. ' Indeed, it was a place very convenient 
 and advantageous to those who were masters of 
 it ; and Cato added much to its strength, as well 
 as convenience. For he brought into it a vast 
 quantity of bread corn, repaired the walls, 
 erected towers, and fortified it with ditches and 
 ramparts. Then he armed all the youth of Utica, 
 and posted them in the trenches under his eye : 
 as for the rest of the inhabitants, he kept them 
 close within the walls ; but, at the same_ time, 
 took great care that they should suffer no injury 
 of any kind from the Romans. And by the 
 supply of arms, of money, and provisions, which 
 he sent in great quantities to the camp, Utica 
 came to be considered as the principal magazine. 
 
 The advice he had before given to Pompey, he 
 now gave to Scipio, not to risk a battle with 
 an able and experienced warrior, but to take the 
 advantage of time, which most effectually blasts 
 the grov/th of tyranny. Scipio, however, in his 
 rashness, despised these counsels, and once even 
 scrupled not to reproach Cato with cowardice; 
 asking whether he could not be satisfied with 
 sitting still himself within the walls and bars, 
 unless he hindered others from taking bolder 
 measures upon occasion. Cato wrote back that 
 he was ready to cross over into Italy with the 
 horse and foot which he had brought into Africa, 
 and, by bringing Csesar upon himself, to draw 
 him from his design against Scipio. • But Scipio 
 only ridiculed the proposal ; and it was plain that 
 Cato now rep‘ented his giving up to him the com- 
 mand, since he saw that Scipio would take no 
 rational scheme for the conduct of the war ; and 
 that if he should, bejmnd all expectation, succeed, 
 he would behave with no kind of moderation 
 to the citizens. It was therefore Cato’s judg- 
 ment, and he often declared it to his friends, 
 that by reason of the incapacity and rashness of 
 the generals, he could hope no good end of the 
 war ; and that, even if victory should declare for 
 them, and Csesar be destroyed, for his part, he 
 would not stay at Rome, but fly from the cruelty 
 and inhumanity of Scipio, who already threw 
 out insolent menaces against many of the 
 Romans. 
 
 The thing came to pass sooner than he ex- 
 pected. About midnight a person arrived from 
 the army, whence he had been three days in 
 coming, with news that a great battle had been 
 fought at Thaspus : that all was lost ; that Csesar 
 was master of both the camps ; and that Scipio 
 
 and Juba were fled with a few troops, which had 
 escaped the general slaughter. 
 
 On the receipt of such tidings, the people of 
 Utica, as might be expected amidst the appre- 
 hensions of night and war, were in the utmost 
 distraction, and could scarce keep themselves 
 within the walls. But Cato making his appear- 
 ance among the citizens, who were running up 
 and down the streets with great confusion and 
 clamour, encouraged them in the best manner he 
 could. To remove the violence of terror and 
 astonishment, he told them the case' might not 
 be so bad as it was represented, the misfortune 
 being probably exaggerated by report ; and thus 
 he calmed the present tumult. As soon as it was 
 light, he summoned to the temple of J upiter the 
 300 whom he made use of as a council. These 
 were the Romans who trafficked there in mer- 
 chandise aftd exchange of money ; and to them 
 he added ail the senators, and their sons. While 
 they were assembling, he entered the house with 
 great composure and firmness of look, as if no- 
 thing extraordinary had happened ; and read a 
 book which he had in his hand. This contained 
 an account of the stores, the corn, the arms, and 
 other implements of war, and the musters. 
 
 When they were met, he opened the matter 
 with commending the 300, for the extraordinary 
 alacrity and fidelity they had shown in serving 
 the public cause with their purses, their persons, 
 and their counsels ; and exhorting them not to 
 entertain different views, or to endeavour to save 
 themselves by flight; “for,” continued he, “if 
 you keep in a body, Csesar will not hold you in 
 such contempt, if you continue the war ; and you 
 will be more likely to be spared, if you have 
 recourse to submission. I desire you will con- 
 sider the point thoroughly, and what resolution 
 soever you may take, I _ will not blame you. If 
 you are inclined to go with the stream of fortune, 
 I shall impute the cnange to the necessity of the 
 tim*es. If you bear up against their threatening 
 aspect, and coritinue to face danger in the cause 
 of liberty, I will be your fellow-soldier, as well 
 as captain, till our country has experienced the 
 last issues of her fate : our country, which is not 
 in Utica, or Adrymettum, but Rome ; and she, in 
 her vast resources, has often recovered herself 
 from greater falls than this. Many resources we 
 certainly have at present ; and the principal is, 
 that we have to contend with a man whose occa- 
 sions oblige him to attend to various objects. 
 Spain is gone over to young Pompey, and Rome, 
 as yet unaccustomed to the ^mke, is ready to 
 spurn it irom her, and to rise on any prospect of 
 change. Nor is danger to be declined. In this 
 you may take your enemy for a pattern, who is 
 prodigal of his blood in the most iniquitous cause ; 
 whereas, if you succeed, you will live extremely 
 happy ; if you miscarry, the uncertainties of war 
 will be terminated with a glorious death. How- 
 ever, deliberate among yourselves as to the steps 
 you should take, first entreating heaven to pros- 
 per your determinations in a manner worthy the 
 courage and zeal you have already shown.” 
 
 This speech of Cato’s inspired some with confi- 
 dence, and even with hope ; and the generality 
 were so much affected with his intrepid, his 
 generous, and humane turn of mind, that they 
 almost forgot their present danger ; and looking 
 upon him as the only general that was invincible, 
 and superior to all fortune, they desired him to 
 
CATO THE YOUNGER. 
 
 543 
 
 make what use he thought proper <5f their for- 
 tunes and their arms ; for that it was^ better to 
 die under his banner than to save their lives at 
 the expense . of betraying so much virtue. One 
 of the council observed the expediency of a 
 decree for enfranchising the slaves, and many 
 commended the motion : Cato, however, said he 
 would not do that, because it was neither just nor 
 lawful ; but such as their masters would volun- 
 tarily discharge, he would receive, provided they 
 were of proper age to bear arms. Ihis many 
 promised to do and Cato withdrew, after having 
 ordered lists to be made out of all that should 
 offer. 
 
 A little after this, letters were brought^ him 
 from Juba and Scipio. Juba, who lay with a 
 small corps concealed in the mountains, desired 
 to know Cato’s intentions; proposing to wait for 
 him if he left Utica, or to assist him if he chose 
 to stand a siege. Scipio also lay at anchor under 
 a promontory near Utica, expecting an answer 
 on the same account. 
 
 Cato thought it advisable to keep the messen- 
 ger till he should know the final determination of 
 the three hundred. All of the patrician order 
 with great readiness enfranchised and armed 
 their slaves ; but as for the three hundred, who 
 dealt in traffic and loans of money at high inte- 
 rest, and whose slaves were a considerable part 
 of their fortune, the impression which Cato’s 
 speech had made upon them did not last long. 
 As some bodies easily receive heat, and as easily 
 grow cold again when the fire is removed, so the 
 sight of Cato warmed and liberalized these 
 traders ; but when they came to consider the 
 matter among themselves, the dread of Caesar 
 soon put to flight the reverence for Cato, and for 
 virtue. For thus they talked — “ What are we, 
 and what is the man whose orders we refuse to 
 receive? Is it not Caesar into whose hands the 
 whole power of the Roman empire is fallen? 
 And surely none of us is a Scipio, a Pompey, or 
 a Cato. Shall we, at a time when their fears 
 make all men entertain sentiments beneath their 
 dignity — shall we, in Utica, fight for the liberty 
 of Rome with a man against whom Cato and 
 Pompey the Great durst not make a stand in 
 Italy? Shall we enfranchise our slaves to op- 
 pose Caesar, who have no more liberty ourselves 
 than that conqueror is pleased to leave us ? Ah ! 
 wretches that we are ! Let us at last know our- 
 selves, and send deputies to intercede with him 
 for mercy^’ ’ This was the language of the most 
 moderate among the three hundred ; but the 
 greatest part of them lay in wait for the patri- 
 cians, thinking, if they could seize upon them, 
 they should more easily make their peace with 
 Caesar. Cato suspected the change, but made 
 no remonstrances against it : he only wrote to 
 Scipio and Juba, to keep at a distance from 
 Utica, because the three hundred were not to be 
 depended upon. 
 
 In the mean time a considerable body of 
 cavalry, who "had escaped out of the battle, ap- 
 proached Utica, and despatched three men to 
 Cato, though they could come to no unanimous re- 
 solution. For some were for joining Juba, some 
 Cato, and others were afraid to enter Utica. 
 This account being brought to Cato, he ordered 
 Marcus Rubrius to attend to the business of the 
 three hundred, and quietly to take down the 
 names of such as offered to set free their slaves. 
 
 without pretending to use the least compulsion. 
 Then he went out of the town, taking the senators 
 with him, to a conference with the principal 
 officers of the cavalr 3 '. He entreated their 
 officers not to abandon so many Roman senators ; 
 nor to choose Juba, rather than Cato, for their 
 general ; but to join, and mutually contribute to 
 each other’s safety by entering the city, which 
 was impregnable in point of strength, and had 
 provisions and everything necessary for defence 
 for many years. The senators seconded this ap- 
 plication with prayers and tears. The officers 
 went to consult the troops under their command ; 
 and Cato, with the senators, sat down upon one 
 of the mounds to wait their answer. 
 
 At that moment Rubrius came up in great fury, 
 inveighing against the three hundred, who, he 
 said, behaved in a very disorderly manner, and 
 were raising commotions in the city. _ Upon this, 
 many of the senators thought their condition 
 desperate, and gave in to the utmost expressions 
 of grief. But Cato endeavoured to encourage 
 them, and requested the three hundred to have 
 patience. 
 
 Nor was there anything moderate in the pro- 
 posals of the cavalry. The answer from them 
 was that they had no desire to be in the pay of 
 Juba ; nor did they fear Caesar while they should 
 have Cato for their general ; but to be shut up 
 with Uticans, Phoenicians, who would change 
 with the wind, was a circumstance which they 
 could not bear to think of; “ for,” said they, “ if 
 they are quiet now, yet when Caesar arrives, they 
 will betray us and conspire our destruction. 
 Whoever, therefore, desires us to range under 
 his banners there, must first expel the Uticans, 
 or put them to the sword, and then call us into a 
 place clear of enemies and barbarians.” These 
 proposals appeared to Cato extremely barbarous 
 and savage : however, he mildly answered, that 
 he would talk with the three hundred about them. 
 Then, entering the city again, he applied to that 
 set of men, who now no longer, out of reverence 
 to him, dissembled or palliated their designs. 
 They openly expressed their resentment that any 
 citizens should presume to lead them against 
 Csesar, with whom all contest was beyond their 
 power and their hopes. Nay, some went so far 
 as to say that the senators ought to be detained 
 in the town till Csesar came, Cato let this pass 
 as if he heard it not ; and, indeed, he was a little 
 deaf. 
 
 But being informed that the cavalry were 
 marching off, he was afraid that the three hun- 
 dred would take some desperate step with respect 
 to the senators ; and he therefore went in pursuit 
 of them with his friends. As he found they were 
 got under march, he rode after them. It was 
 with pleasure they saw him approach ; and they 
 exhorted him to go with them, and save his life 
 with theirs. On this occa.sion, it is said that 
 Cato shed tears, while he interceded with ex- 
 tended hands in behalf of the senators. He even 
 turned the heads of some of their horses, and laid 
 hold of their armour, till he prevailed with them 
 to stay, at least, that day, to secure the retreat of 
 the senators. 
 
 When he came back with them, and had com- 
 mitted the charge of the gates to some, and the 
 citadel to others, the three hundred were under 
 great apprehensions of being punished for their 
 inconstancy, and sent to beg of Cato, by all 
 
544 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 means, to come and speak to them. But the 
 senators would not suffer him to go. They said 
 they would never let their guardian and deliverer 
 come into the hands of such perfidious and trai- 
 torous men. It was now, indeed, that Cato’s 
 virtue appeared to all ranks of men in Utica in 
 the clearest light, and commanded the highest 
 love and admiration. Nothing could be more 
 evident than that the most perfect integrity was ! 
 the guide of his actions. He had long resolved 
 to put an end to his being, and j^et he submitted 
 to inexpressible labours, cares, and conflicts, for 
 others ; that, after he had secured their lives, he 
 might relinquish his owm. For his intentions in 
 that respect were obvious enough, though he en- 
 deavoured to conceal them. 
 
 Therefore, after having satisfied the senators as 
 well as he could, he went alone to wait upon the 
 three hundred. They thanked him for the favour, 
 and entreated him to trust them and make use of 
 their services ; but as they were not Catos, nor 
 had Cato’s dignity of mind, the 3 ’- hoped he would 
 pity their weakness. They told him they had 
 resolved to send deputies to Caesar, to intercede 
 first and principally for Cato. If that request 
 should not be granted, they would have no obliga- 
 tion to him for any favour to themselves ; but as 
 long as they had breath, would fight for Cato. 
 Cato made his acknowledgments for their regard, 
 and advised them to send immediately to inter- 
 cede for themselves. “For me,” said he, “in- 
 tercede not. It is for the conquered to turn 
 suppliants, and for those who have done an injury 
 to beg pardon. For my part, I have been un- 
 conquered through life, and superior in the thing 
 I wished to be ; for in justice and honour I am 
 Caesar’s superior. Caesar is the vanquished, the 
 falling man, being now clearly convicted of those 
 designs against his country which he had long 
 denied.” 
 
 After he had thus spoken to the three hundred, 
 he left them ; and being informed that Caesar was 
 already on his march to Utica, “ Strange !” said 
 he, “it seems he take us for men.” He then went 
 to the senators, and desired them to hasten their 
 flight while the cavalry remained. He likewise 
 shut all the gates, except that which leads to the 
 sea ; appointed ships for those wbio were to depart ; 
 provided for good order in the town ; redressed 
 grievances ; composed disturbances, and furnished 
 all who wanted with the necessary provisions for 
 the voyage. About this time Marcus Octavius * 
 approached the place with two legions ; and, as 
 soon as he had encamped, sent to desire Cato to 
 settle with him the business of the command. 
 Cato gave the messenger no answer, but turning 
 to his friends, said, “Need we wonder that our 
 cause has not prospered, when we retain our 
 ambition on the very brink of ruin ? ” 
 
 In the mean time, having the intelligence that 
 the cavalry, at their departure, were taking the 
 goods of the Uticans as a lawful pri 2 e, he hastened 
 up to them, and snatched the plunder out of the 
 hands of the foremost : upon which they all threw 
 dovTi what they had got, and retired in silence, 
 dejected and ashamed. He then assembled the 
 Uticans, and applied to them in behalf of the three 
 hundred, desiring them not to exasperate Caesar 
 against those Romans, but to act in concert with 
 them, and consult each other’s safety. After which 
 
 he returned to the seaside to look upon the em- 
 barkation : and such of his friends and acquaint- 
 ances as he could persuade to go, he embraced, and 
 dismissed with great marks of affection. His son 
 was not willing to go with the rest ; and he thought 
 it was not right to insist on his leaving a father 
 he was so fond of. There was one Statyllius,* a 
 young man, who affected a firmness of resolution 
 above his j^ears, and, in^ all respects, studied to 
 appear like Cato, superior to passion. As this 
 young man’s enmity to Cmsar was well known, 
 Cato desired him by all means to take ship with 
 the rest ; and, when he found him bent upon 
 staying, he turned to Apollonides the stoic, and 
 Demetrius the peripatetic, and said, “ It is your 
 business to reduce this man’s extravagance of 
 mind, and to make him see what is for his good.” 
 He now dismissed all except such as had business 
 of importance with him : and upon these he spent 
 that night and the great part of the day following. 
 
 Lucius Caesar, a relation of the conqueror, who 
 intended to intercede for the three hundred, desired 
 Cato to assist him in composing a suitable speech. 
 “And for you,” said he, “ I shall think it an honour 
 to become the most humble suppliant, and even to 
 throw myself at his feet.” Cato, however, would 
 not suffer it : “If I chose to be indebted,” said 
 he, “ to Caesar for my life, I ought to go in person, 
 and without any mediator ; but I will not have 
 any obligation to a tyrant in a business by which 
 he subverts the laws. And he does sub\ert the 
 laws, by saving, as a master, those over whom he 
 has no right of authority. Nevertheless, we will 
 consider, if you please, how to make your applica- 
 tion most effectual in behalf of the-three hundred.” 
 
 After he had spent some time with Lucius 
 Caesar upon this affair, he recommended his son 
 and friends to his protection, conducted him a little 
 on his way, and then took his leave, and retired 
 to his own house. His son and the rest of his 
 friends being assembled there, he discoursed with 
 them a considerable time ; and, among other 
 things, charged the young man to take no share 
 in the administration. “For the state of affairs,” 
 said he, “ is such, that it is impossible for you to 
 fill any office in a manner worthy of Cato ; and 
 to do it otherwise would be unworthy of your- 
 self.” 
 
 In the evening he went to the bath ; where, 
 bethinking himself of Statyllius, he called out 
 aloud to Apollonides, and said, Have you taken 
 down the pride of that young man? and is he 
 gone without bidding us farewell?” “No, in- 
 deed,” answered the philosopher, “we have 
 taken a great deal of pains with him ; but he con- 
 tinues as lofty and resolute as ever ; he says he 
 will stay, and certainly follow your conduct.” 
 Cato then smiled, and said, “That will soon be 
 seen.” 
 
 After bathing, he went to supper, with a large 
 company, at which he sat, as he had always done 
 since the battle of Pharsalia ; for (as we observed 
 above) he never now lay down except to sleep. 
 All his friends, and the magistrates of Utica, 
 supped with him. After supper, the wine was 
 seasoned with much wit and learning ; and many 
 
 * This brave young Roman was the same who, 
 after the battle of Philippi, went through the 
 enemy, to inquire into the condition of Brutus’s 
 camp, and was slain in his return by Caesar’s 
 soldiers. 
 
 * The same who commanded Pompey’s fleet. 
 
CATO THE YOUNGER. 54. 
 
 questions in philosophy were proposed and dis 
 cussed. In the course of the conversation, thej 
 came to the paradoxes of the stoics (for so thei: 
 maxims are commonly called), and to this in par 
 ticular, that the good man only is free, and al 
 bad men are slaves,* The peripatetic, in pur- 
 suance of his principles, took up the argument 
 against it. Upon which, Cato attacked him wit! 
 great warmth, and in a louder and more vehement 
 accent than usual, carried on a most spirited dis- 
 course to a considerable length. From the tenor 
 of it, the whole company perceived he had deter- 
 niined to put an end to his being, to extricate 
 himself from the hard conditions on which he was 
 to hold it. 
 
 As he found a deep and melancholy silence the 
 consequence of his discourse, he endeavoured to 
 recpver the spirits of his guests, and to remove 
 their suspicions, by talking of their present affairs, 
 and expressing his fears both for his friends and 
 partisans who were upon their voyage ; and for 
 those who had to make their way through dry 
 deserts, and a barbarous country. 
 
 After the entertainment was over, he took his 
 usual evening walk with his friends, and gave the 
 officers of the guards such orders as the occasion 
 required, and then retired to his chamber. The 
 extraordinary ardour with which he embraced his 
 son and his friends at this parting, recalled all 
 their suspicions. He lay down, and began to 
 read Plato’s book on the immortality of*the soul ; 
 but before he had gone through with it, he looked 
 up, and took notice that his sword was not at the 
 head of his bed, wheie it used to hang ; for his 
 ^n had taken it away while he was at supper. 
 He, therefore, called his servant and asked him, 
 who had taken away his sword ? As the servant 
 made no answer, he returned to his book ; and, 
 after awhile, without any appearance of haste or 
 hurry, as if it was only by accident that he called 
 for the sword, he ordered him to bring it. The 
 servant still delayed to bring it, and he had 
 patience till he had read out his book : but then 
 he called his servants one by one, and in a louder 
 his sword. At last he struck one 
 of them such a blow on the mouth that he hurt 
 his own hand ; and growing more angry, and 
 raising his voice still higher, he cried, “ I am 
 betrayed and delivered naked to my enemy by 
 my son and my servants.” His son then ran in 
 with his friends, and tenderly embracing him, 
 had recourse to tears and entreaties. But Cato 
 rose up, and, with a stern and awful look, thus 
 expressed himself: — “When and where did I 
 sho\y any signs of distraction, that nobody offers 
 to dissuade me from any purpose I may seem to 
 be wrong in, but I must be hindered from pur- 
 suing my resolutions, thus disarmed ? And you, 
 young man, why do not you bind your father? 
 bind his hands behind his back, that when Caesar 
 comes, he may find me utterly incapable of 
 resistance ? As to a sword, I have no need of it 
 to depatch myself ; for if I do but hold my breath 
 awhile, or dash my head against the wall, it will 
 answer the purpose as well.” 
 
 Upon his speaking in this manner, the young 
 man wpt out of the chamber weeping, and with 
 him all the rest, except Demetrius and Apollo- 
 nides. lo these philosophers he addressed him- 
 
 ' self in a milder tone. *‘Are you also deter- 
 f mined to make a man of my age live whether he 
 will or no ? And do you_ sit here in silence to 
 • watch me ? Or do you bring any arguments to 
 P^ove, that, now _Cato has no hopes from any 
 no dishonour to beg mercy 
 of his enemy ? Why do not you begin a lecture 
 p inform me better, that, dismissing the opinions 
 ; m which you and I have lived, we may, through 
 Caesar’s means, grow wiser, and so have a still 
 greater obligation to him ? As yet I have deter- 
 mined nothing with respect to myself ; but I 
 ought to have it in my power to put my purpose 
 in execution, when I have formed it. And, in- 
 deed, I shall, in some measure, consult with you, 
 for I shall proceed in my deliberations upon the 
 principles of your philosophy. Be satisfied then, 
 and go tell my son, if persuasion will not do, not 
 to have recourse to constraint.” 
 
 They made no answer, but went out ; the tears 
 falling from their eyes as they withdrew. The 
 sword was sent in by a little boy. He drew, and 
 examined it, and finding the point and the edge 
 master of my- 
 Then laying down the sword, he took up 
 the book again, and, it is said, he perused the 
 whole twice.* After which, he slept so sound 
 that he was heard by those who were in waiting 
 without. About midnight he called for two of 
 his freedmen. Clean thes the physician, and 
 Butas, whom he generally employed about public 
 business. The latter he sent to the port, to see 
 whether all the Romans had put off to sea, and 
 bring him word. 
 
 In the mean time^ he ordered the physician to 
 dress his hand, which was inflamed by the blow 
 he had given his servant. This was some con- 
 solation to the whole house, for now they thought 
 he had dropped his design against his life. Soon 
 after this Butas returned, and informed him that 
 they were all got off except Crassus, who had 
 been detained by some business, but that he 
 iiitended to embark very soon, though the wind 
 blew hard, and the sea was tempestuous. Cato, 
 at this news, sighed in pity of his friends at sea* 
 and sent Butas again, that if any of them hap- 
 pened to have put back, and should be in want of 
 anything, he might acquaint him with it. 
 
 By this time the birds began to sing, and Cato 
 fell again into a little slumber. Butas, at his 
 return, told him all was quiet in the harbour ; 
 upon which Cato ordered him to shut the door, 
 having first stretched himself on the bed, as if 
 he designed to sleep out the rest of the night. 
 But after Butus was gone, he drew his sword, 
 and stabbed himself under the breast. However, 
 he could not strike hard enough on account of 
 the inflammation in his hand, and therefore did 
 not presently expire, but in the struggle with 
 death fell from the bed, and threw down a little 
 geometrical table that stood by. 
 
 The noise alarming the servants, they cried 
 out, and his son and his friends immediately 
 entered the room. They found him weltering in 
 his blood, and his bowels fallen out ; at the same 
 time he was alive and looked upon them. They 
 were struck with inexpressible horror. The phy- 
 sician approached to examine the wound, and 
 finding the bowels uninjured, he put them up, 
 
 * This was not the sentiment of the stoics only, 
 but of Socrates. ^ 
 
 * Yet this very dialogue condemns suicide in 
 the strongest terms. 
 
 2 N 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 546 _ 
 
 and began to sew up the wound. But as soon as | 
 Cato came a little to himself, he thrust away the 
 physician, tore open the wound, plucked out his 
 own bowels, and immediately expired. 
 
 In less time than one would think all the faniily 
 could be informed of this sad event, the three 
 hundred were at the door ; and a little after, all 
 the people of Utica thronged about it, with one 
 voice calling him their benefactor, their saviour, 
 the only free and unconquered man. i his they 
 did, though, at the same time, they had intel- 
 ligence that Caesar was approaching. Neither 
 fear nor the flattery of the conqueror, nor the 
 factious disputes that prevailed among them- 
 selves could divert them from doing honour to 
 Cato. ’ They adorned the body in a magnificent 
 manner, and, after a splendid procession, buried 
 it near the sea \ where now stands his statue, 
 with a sword in the right hand. 
 
 This great business over, they began to take 
 measures for saving themselves and their city. 
 Csesar had been informed by persons who went 
 to surrender themselves, that Cato remained in 
 Utica, without any thoughts of flight; that he 
 provided for the escape of others, indeed, but 
 that himself, with his friends and his son, lived 
 there without any appearance of fear or appre- 
 hension. Upon these circumstances he could 
 form no probable conjecture. However, as it 
 was a great point with, him to get Cato into his 
 hands, he advanced to the place with his army 
 with all possible expedition. And when he had 
 intelligence of Cato’s death, he is reported to 
 have uttered this short sentence, “ Cato, I envy 
 thee thy death, since thou couldst envy aie the 
 glory of saving thy life.” Indeed, if Cato had 
 designed to owe his life to Csesar, he would not 
 so much have tarnished his own honour as have 
 added to that of the conqueror. What might 
 have been the event is uncertain ; but, in all 
 
 probability, Csesar would have inclined to the 
 merciful side. 
 
 Cato died at the age of forty-eight.^ His son 
 suffered nothing from Csesar ; but, it is said, he 
 was rather immoral, and that he was censured 
 for his conduct with respect to women. In 
 Cappadocia he lodged at the house of Marpha- 
 dates, one of the royal family, who had a very 
 handsome wife ; and as he stayed there a longer 
 time than decency could warrant, such jokes as 
 these were passed upon him : “ Cato goes the 
 morrow after the thirtieth day of the month.” 
 “ Porcius and Marphadates are two friends who 
 have but one soul; ” for the wife of Marpha- 
 dates was named Psyche, which signifies soul. 
 “ Cato is a great and generous man, and has a 
 royal soul'* Nevertheless, he wiped off_ all 
 aspersions by his death ; for, fighting at Philippi 
 against Octavius Caesar and Antony, in the 
 cause of liberty, after his party gave way, he 
 disdained to fly. Instead of slipping out of the 
 action, he challenged the enemy to try their 
 strength with Cato ! he animated such of his 
 troops as had stood their ground, and fell, ac- 
 knowledged by his adversaries as a prodigy of 
 valour. 1 • , r 
 
 Cato’s daughter was much more admired tor 
 her virtues. She was not inferior to her father 
 either in prudence or in fortitude ; for being 
 married to Brutus, who killed Csesar, she was 
 trusted with the secret of the conspiracy, and 
 put a period to her life in a manner worthy of 
 her birth and of her virtue, as we have related in 
 the life of Brutus. . . . 
 
 As for Statyllius, who promised to imitate the 
 pattern of Cato, he would have despatched him- 
 self soon after him, but was prevented by the 
 philosophers. He approved himself afterwards 
 to Brutus a faithful and able officer, and fell in 
 the battle of Philippi. 
 
 AGIS. 
 
 It is not without appearance of probability that 
 some think the fable of Ixion designed to repre- 
 sent the fate of ambitious men. Ixion took a 
 cloud instead of Juno to his arms, and the Cen- 
 taurs were the offspring of their embrace : the 
 ambitious embrace honour, which is only the 
 image of virtue ; and, governed by different 
 impulses, actuated by emulation and all the 
 variety of passions, the;jr produce nothing pure 
 and genuine ; the whole issue is of a preposte^us 
 kind. The shepherds in Sophocles say of their 
 flocks-— 
 
 These are our subjects, yet we serve them. 
 
 And listen to their mute command. 
 
 The same may be truly affirmed of those great 
 statesmen who govern according to the capricious 
 and violent inclinations of the people. ^ They 
 become slaves, to gain the name of magistrates 
 and rulers. As in a ship those at the oar can see 
 what is before them better than the pilot, and yet 
 are often looking back to him for orders ; so they 
 who take their measures of administration only 
 with a view to popular applause, are called 
 governors indeed, but, in fact, are no more than 
 slaves of the people. 
 
 The complete, the honest statesman has no 
 farther regard to the public opinion than as the 
 confidence it gains him facilitates his designs, 
 and crowns them with success. An ambitious 
 young man may be allowed, indeed, to value 
 himself upon his great and good actions, and to 
 expect his portion of fame. For virtues, as 
 Theophrastus says, when they first begin to grow 
 in persons of that age and disposition, are 
 cherished and strengthened by praise, and after- 
 wards increase in proportion as the love of glory 
 increases. But an immoderate passion for fame, 
 in all affairs, is dangerous, and in political 
 matters destructive ; for, joined to great autho- 
 rity, this passion drives all that are possessed 
 with it into folly and madness, while they no 
 longer think that glorious which is good, but 
 account whatever is glorious to be also good and 
 honest. Therefore, as Phocion said to Antipater, 
 when he desired something of him inconsistent 
 with justice, “ You cannot have Phocion for your 
 friend and flatterer too ; ” this, or something like 
 it, should be said to the multitude; “You can- 
 not have the same man both for your governor 
 and your slave : ” for that would be no more 
 than exemplifying the fable of the serpent. The 
 
AG IS. 
 
 tail. It seems, one day, quarrelled with the head 
 and, instead of being forced always to follow’ 
 insisted that it should lead in its turn. Accord- 
 ingly* the tail undertook the charge, and as it 
 moved forward at all adventures, it tore itself in 
 ^ manner ; and the head, which was thus 
 obliged, apinst nature, to follow a guide that 
 could neither see nor hear, suffered likewise in 
 Its turn. We see inany under the same predica- 
 inent, whose object is popularity in all the steps 
 ot their administration. Attached entirely to the 
 capricious multitude, they produce such disorders 
 ^ cnn neither redress nor restrain. 
 
 Ihese observations on popularity were suf^- 
 gested to us by considering the effects of it in the 
 misfortunes of Tiberius and Caius Gracchus. In 
 point of disposition, of education, and political 
 principles, none could exceed them : yet they 
 were ruined, not so much by an immoderate love 
 ot g.ory as by a fear of disgrace, which, in its 
 wrong. They had been so much 
 obliged to the people for their favour, that they 
 were a^amed to be behindhand with them in 
 marks of attention. On the contrar}^ by the most 
 acceptable services, they always studied to outdo 
 the honors paid them; and being still more 
 honoured on account of those sei^dces, the affection 
 between them and the people became at last so 
 forced them into a situation 
 V, herein it was in vain to say, “Since we are 
 wrong. It would be a shame to persist.” In the 
 co^se of the history these observations occur. 
 
 With tnose two Romans let us compare tvm 
 Cleomenes, who were 
 not behind them in popularity. Like the Gracchi, 
 privileges of the people, 
 glorious institutions 
 which had long fallen into disuse, they became 
 Sreat, who could not 
 Lave ^ superiority which riches 
 
 gave them, a^ to which they had long been 
 accustomed These Spartans v/ere not, indeed, 
 actions were of the same 
 was^thfs complexion ; the source of which 
 
 money made its way into 
 traiL on tb and meanness in its 
 
 ^ ®^^cr, profusion, 
 
 froT L deviated 
 
 and sunk into contempt 
 tdl the reign of Agis and Leonidas. Agis was of 
 
 ^^thT I the son of Eudamidas, the 
 
 sixth in descent from Agesilaus. distinguished by 
 
 GreTcl'^'T T eliinence Ln 
 
 Greece. Agesilaus was succeeded by his son 
 Archidamus, who was slain by the Messapians at 
 
 ofArchTa” the eldesrson 
 
 A at Megalopolis by 
 
 by bis brother Eudamidas. He was succeeded 
 by another Archidamus, his son, and that prinLe 
 ftXb Eudamidas, his son likewise, a^^d the 
 
 father of that Agis of whom we are now speaking 
 Leonidas the son of Cleonymus, was of aLothfr 
 Agiadse, the eighth S 
 descent from that Pausanias who conquered Mar 
 doniusatPIat^a, Pausanias was succeeded by 
 
 547 
 
 CEL?AK.^sf Seographerl! 
 
 ^“other Pausanias 
 who being banished to Tegea, left his kingdom to 
 his eldest son Agesipolis. He, dying wXut 
 
 Clef mbrotus 
 
 who le.t tw^o sons, Agesipolis and Cleomenes 
 Agesipohs, after a short reign, died without issue* 
 
 dfi^ the king- 
 
 dom, after burying his eldest son Acrotatus left 
 
 however, 
 kingdom, which fell to 
 Acrotatus, and grandson of 
 rrovv? 2 Corinth, the 
 
 dLffa2pdLf2H''f^n Acrotatus, who was 
 
 hv ^ ^ Megalopolis, 
 
 by tne tyrant Anstodemus. He left his mf4 
 pregnant, and as the child proved to be a son 
 Cleonymus, took the guar- 
 dianship of him ; and his charge dying in his 
 minority, the crown fell to him. This prince v^s 
 not agreeable to his people. For, though the 
 corruption was general, and they all grew daily 
 yet Leonidas^ was more 
 re^kable than the rest for his deviation from 
 the customs of his ancestors. He had long been 
 conversant in the courts of the Asiatic princes, 
 particularly m that of Seleucus, and he had the 
 f introduce the pomp of those courts 
 
 Hws w.?r2h^° state into a kingdom where the 
 laws w ^e tbe rules of government. 
 
 exceeded not only him, but almost all 
 reigned before him since the great 
 Agesilaus, in goodness of disposition and dignity 
 of mind. I or, though brougS up m the grfateTt 
 exn^LtLJ ^ indulgence that might be 
 
 expected irom female tuition, under his mother 
 his grandmother Archidamia, who 
 beW b^ persons in Lacedaemonia, yet 
 
 ^^^^hed the age of twenty, he declared 
 wh^r>f2l^ prevent any vanity 
 
 tested of his person might have sug- 
 
 gested, he discmded all unnecessary ornament 
 and expense, and constantly appeared in a pHin 
 Lacedaemonian cloak. In his diet, his bathing 
 ffn 2" ^ r exercises, he kept close to the Spaf- 
 tan .simplicity, and he often used to say tha>f;he 
 crown lyas no farther an object of desire to him 
 than as it might enable him to restore the law's 
 ^^J^.A^oient discipline of his country, 
 in 4bLir ? symptoms of corruption and distemper 
 in their co^onwealth appeared at the time 
 when the Sp^tans had entirely destroyed the 
 Athenmn empire, and began to bring gild and 
 sih er mto Lacedmmon. Nevertheless, the Agra- 
 and ^7 h^>’ourgus still subsisting, 
 
 fr2m descendmg undiminished 
 
 irom father to son, order and equality in some 
 measure remained, which prevented other er?ms 
 a^i?/b Epitadeus, a man of great 
 
 ^ 'a though at the same time 
 
 factious and iihnatured, being appointed one of 
 the eJ>/iorz, and having a quarrel with his son 
 procured a law that all men should have liberty 
 to alienate their estates in their lifetime, or Z 
 pleased at their death 
 f^bic indulge his private resentment, that 
 
 this man proposed the decree, which others ac- 
 
 TT ^”SS of England 
 
 and France to procure laws empowering the no- 
 bility to alienate their estates, and by thlt means 
 power; for the nobility in those 
 times were no better than so many petty tyrants 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 cepted and confirmed from a motive of avarice, | 
 and thus the best institution in the world was \ 
 abrogated. Men of fortune now extended their < 
 landed estates without bounds, not scrupling to < 
 exclude the right heirs ; and property quickly : 
 coming intq a few hands, the rest of the people 
 were poor and miserable. The latter found no 
 time or opportunity for liberal arts and exercises, 
 being obliged to drudge in mean and mechanic 
 employments for their bread, and conseqimntly 
 looking with envy and hatred on the rich, ihere 
 remained not above 700 of the old Spartan 
 families, of which, perhaps, 100 had estates in 
 land. The rest of the city was filled with an 
 insignificant rabble without property or honour, 
 who had neither heart nor spirit to defend their 
 country against wars abroad, and who were 
 always watching an opportunity for changes and 
 revolutions at home. , 
 
 For these reasons Agis thought it a noble 
 undertaking, as in fact it was, to bring the 
 citizens again to an equality, and by that means 
 to replenish Sparta with respectable inhabitants . 
 For this purpose he sounded the inclinations of 
 his subjects. The young men listened to him 
 with a readiness far beyond his expectation : they 
 adopted the cause of virtue with him, and, f9r the 
 sake of liberty, changed their manner of living, 
 with as little objection as they would have 
 changed their apparel. But most of the old me^ 
 being far gone in corruption, were as much afraid 
 of the name of Lycurgus as a fugitive slave, when 
 brought back, is of that of his master. They 
 inveighed, therefore, against Agis for lamenting 
 the present state of things, and desiring to restore 
 the ancient dignity of Sparta. On the other 
 hand, Lysander the son of Libys, Mandrochdas 
 the son of Ecphanes, and Agesilaus, not only 
 came into his glorious designs, but co-operated 
 with them. . j 1 • 
 
 Lysander had great reputation and authority 
 among the Spartans. No man understood the 
 interests of Greece better than Mandroclidas, and 
 with his shrewdness and capacity he had a proper 
 mixture of spirit. As for Agesilaus, he was uncle 
 to the king, and a man of great eloquence, but at 
 the same time effeminate and avaricious. How- 
 ever, he was animated to this enterprise by his 
 son Hippomedon, who had distinguished himself 
 in many wars, and was respectable on account of 
 the attachment of the Spartan youth to his per- 
 son. It must be acknowledged, indeed, that the 
 thing which really persuaded Agesilaus t9 embark 
 in the design was the greatness of his debts, 
 which he hoped would be cleared off by a change 
 in the constitution. 
 
 As soon as Agis had gained him, he endea- 
 voured, with his assistance, to bring his own 
 mother into the scheme. She was sister to 
 Agesilaus, and by her extensive connections, her 
 wealth, and the number of people who owed her 
 money, had great influence in Sparta, and a con- 
 siderable share in the management of public 
 affairs. Upon the first intimation of the thing, 
 she was quite astonished at it, and dissuaded the 
 young man as much as possible from measures 
 which she looked upon as neither practicable nor 
 salutary. But Agesilaus showed her that they 
 might easily be brought to bear, and that they 
 would prove of the greatest utility to the state. 
 The young prince, too, entreated his mother to 
 sacrifice her wealth to the advancement of his 
 
 ylory, and to indulge his laudable ambition. “ It 
 IS impossible,” said he, “ for me ever to vie with 
 3ther kings in point of opulence. The domestics 
 of an Asiatic grandee, nay, the servants of the 
 stewards of Ptolemy and Seleucus were richer 
 than all the Spartan kings put together. But if 
 by sobriety, by simplicity of provision for the 
 body, and by greatness of mind, I can do some- 
 thing which shall far exceed all their pomp and 
 luxury, I mean the making an equal partition of 
 property among all the citizens, I shall really 
 become a great king, and have all the honour 
 that such actions demand.” 
 
 This address changed the opinions of the 
 women. They entered into the young nian’s 
 glorious views ; they caught the flame of virtue 
 as it were by inspirati9n, and, in their turn, 
 hastened Agis to put his scheme in execution. 
 They sent for their friends, and recommended the 
 affair to them ; and they did the same to the 
 other matrons : for they knew that the Lacedae- 
 monians always hearken to their wives, and that 
 the women are permitted to intermeddle more 
 with public business than the men are with the 
 domestic. This, indeed, was the principal ob- 
 struction to Agis’s enterprise.^ Great part of the 
 wealth of Sparta was now in the hands of the 
 women : consequently they opposed the reforma- 
 tion, not only because they knew they must for- 
 ffit those gratifications in which their deviation 
 from the severer paths of sobriety had brought 
 them to place their happiness ; but because they 
 saw they must also lose that honour and power 
 which follow property. They, therefore, applied 
 to Leonidas the other king, and desired him, as 
 the older man, to put a stop to the projects of 
 Agis. 
 
 Leonidas was inclined, to serve the rich ; but as 
 he feared the people, who were desirous of the 
 change, he did not oppose it openly. Privately, 
 however, he strove to blast the design, by apply- 
 ing to the magistrates, and invidiously repre- 
 sented, that Agis offered the poor a share in the 
 estates of the rich, as the price of absolute 
 power ; and that the distribution of lands, and 
 cancelling of debts, were only means to purchase 
 guards for himself, not citizens for Sparta. 
 
 Agis, however, having interest to get Lysander 
 elected one of the ephori^ took the opportunity to 
 propose his rhetra to the senate ; according to 
 which, debtors were to be released from their 
 obligations ; and lands to be divided in the fol- 
 lowing manner ; those that lay between the 
 valley of Pellene and Mount Taygetus, as far as 
 Malea and Sellasia, were to be distributed in 
 4500 equal lots ; 15,000 lots were to be made of 
 the remaining territory, which should be shared 
 among the neighbouring inhabitants who were 
 able to bear arms : as to what lay within the 
 limits first mentioned, Spartans were to have the 
 preference ; but if their number fell short, it 
 should be made up out of strangers who were un- 
 exceptionable in point of person, condition, and 
 education. These were to be divided into fifteen 
 companies, some of 400, some of 200, who were to 
 eat together, and keep to the diet and discipline 
 enjoined by the laws of Lycurgus. 
 
 The decree thus proposed in the senate, and 
 the members differing in their opinions upon it, 
 Lysander summoned an assembly of the people ; 
 1 and he, with Mandr9clidas and Agesilaus, in their 
 ; discourse to the citizens, entreated them not to 
 
AG IS, 
 
 suffer the few to insult the many, or to see with 
 unconcern the majesty of Sparta trodden under- 
 foot. They desired them to recollect the ancient 
 oracles which ^de them beware of the love of 
 money, as a vice the most ruinous to Sparta ; 
 as well as the late answer from the temple of 
 Pasiphse, which gave them the same warning. 
 For_ Pasiph^ had a temple and oracle at Tha- 
 lamise.* Some say this Pasiphse was one of the 
 daughters of Atlas, who had by Jupiter a son 
 named Amnon. Others suppose her to be Cas- 
 sandra,! the daughter of Priam, who died at that 
 place, and might have the name of Pasiphce, from 
 her answering the questions of all that consulted 
 \er. But Phylarchus says, she Avas no other 
 than Daphne, the daughter of Amyclas, who 
 flying from the solicitations of Apollo, was turned 
 into a laurel, and afterwards honoured by that 
 deity with the gift of prophecy. Be this as it 
 may, it was affirmed that her oracle had com- 
 nianded all the Spartans to return to the equality 
 which the laws of Lycurgus originally enjoined. 
 
 Last of all, king Agis entered the assembly, 
 and, after a short speech, declared, that he would 
 contribute largely to the institution he recom 
 mended. _ He would first give up to the com- 
 munity his own great estate, consisting of arable 
 and pasture land, and of 600 talents in money : 
 then his mother and grandmother, all his rela- 
 Uons and friends, who were the richest persons in 
 Sparta, would folloiv his example. 
 
 The people were astonished at the magnificence 
 of the young man’s proposal, and rejoiced that 
 now after the space of 300 years, they had at 
 last found a king worthy of Sparta. Upon this, 
 Leonidas began openly and vigorously to oppose 
 the new regulations. He considered that he 
 should be^ obliged to do the same with his col- 
 league, without finding the .same acknowledg- 
 ments from the people ; that all would be equally 
 under the necessity of giving up their fortunes, 
 and that he who first set the example would 
 honour. He therefore demanded 
 of Agis whether he thought Lycurgus a just and 
 good jnan ? Agis answering in the affirmative 
 Leonidas thus went on:— “But did Lycurgus 
 ever order just debts to be cancelled, or bestow 
 the freedom of Sparta upon strangers? Did he 
 not rather think his commonwealth could not be in 
 a saluta^’- state, except strangers were entirely 
 
 ^ • . -Agis replied, he did not wonder 
 
 that Leonidas, who was educated in a foreign 
 country, and had children by an intermarriage 
 With a Persian family, should be ignorant that 
 Lycurgus, in banishing money, banished both 
 aebts and usury from Lacedaemon. “As for 
 
 549 
 
 * Those who consulted this oracle lay down to 
 sleep in the temple, and the goddess revealed 
 ^ them me object of their inquiries in a dream. 
 Lie. de Div. 1. 1. 
 
 j Pausanias would incline one to think that 
 Bus was the goddess Ino. “ On the road between 
 Octylus and lhalamiae, ’ says he, “is the temple 
 ot Ino. It is the custom of those who consult 
 her to sleep in her temple, and what they want to 
 know IS revealed to them in a dreamf In the 
 
 the other of 
 
 the sun. _ That which is in the temple is so 
 covered with garlands and fillets that itis not lo 
 be seen ; but it is said to be of brass.” 
 
 he excluded only those who were not 
 likely to conform to his institutions, or fit to 
 class with his people. For he did not dislike 
 them merely as strangers ; his exceptions were 
 to their manners and customs, and he was afraid 
 that, by mixing with his Spartans, they would 
 infect them with their luxury, effeminacy, and 
 avarice. Terpander, Thales, and Pherecydes, 
 \A^re strangers, yet because their poetry and 
 philosophy moved in concert with the maxims of 
 Lycurgus, they were held in great honour at 
 Sparta. Even you commend Eeprepes, who, 
 when he was one of the eJ>/tori\ retrenched the 
 Avhich Phrynis the musician had 
 added to the seven of the harp; you commend 
 those who did the same by Timotheus ; * and yet 
 you complain of our intention to banish suner- 
 pride, and luxury, from Sparta. Do you 
 think that in retrenching the swelling and super- 
 numerary graces of music they had no farther 
 they were not afraid the excess 
 and disorder would reach the lives and manners 
 the people, and destroy the harmony of the 
 state? 
 
 From this time the common people followed 
 Agis. But the rich entreated Leonidas' not to 
 give up their cause ; and they exerted their 
 interest so effectually ivith the senate, whose chief 
 j previously determining what laws 
 
 should be proposed to the people, that they 
 carrieci It against the Tketra by a majority of one 
 Lysander, however, being yet in office, resolved 
 to prosecute Leonidas upon an ancient law, which 
 ^ every descendant of Hercules to have 
 children by a woman that is a stranger, and makes 
 It capital for a Spartan to settle in a foreign 
 countr3^ He instructed others to allege these 
 things against Leonidas, while he with his col- 
 leagues watched for a sign from heaven. It was 
 the custom for the ephori every ninth year, on a 
 clear starlight night, when there was no moon, to 
 sit down, and in silence observe the heavens. If 
 a star happened to shoot from one part of them to 
 another, they pronounced the kings guilty of 
 some crime against the gods, and suspended them 
 Lll they \^re re-established by an oracle from 
 Lelphi or Olympia. Lysander, affirming that the 
 sign had appeared to him, summoned Leonidas to 
 his trial, and produced witnesses to prove that he 
 had two children by an Asiatic woman, whom one 
 of oeleucus s lieutenants had given him to wife ; 
 but that, on her conceiving a mortal aversion to 
 him, he returned home against his will, and filled 
 up the vacancy in the throne of Sparta. During 
 this suit, he persuaded Cleombrotus, son-in-laiv 
 to Leonidas, and a prince of the blood, to lay 
 claim to the crown. Leonidas, greatly terrified, 
 fled to the altar of hlinerva in the Chalciceeus f 
 as a suppliant ; and his daughter, leaving Cleom- 
 brotus, joined him in the intercession. He was 
 re-summoned to the court of judicature ; and as 
 he did not appear, he was deposed, and the king- 
 dom adjudged to Cleombrotus. 
 
 * Timotheus the Milesian, a celebrated Dithy- 
 rambic poet and musician. He added even a 
 twelfth string to the harp, for which he was 
 severely punished by the sage Spartans, who 
 concluded that luxury of sound would effeminate 
 the people. 
 
 brass^^^”^^^^ ^^4 a temple at Sparta, entirely of 
 
550 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 Soon after this revolution, Lysander’s time ex- 
 pired, and he quitted his office. The ephori of 
 the ensuing year listened to the supplication of 
 Leonidas, and consented to restore him. They 
 likewise began a prosecution against Lysander 
 and Mandroclidas for the cancelling of debts and 
 distribution of lands, which those magistrates 
 agreed to contrary to law. In this danger they 
 persuaded the two kings to unite their interest, 
 and to despise the machinations of the ephori. 
 “These magistrates,” said they, “ have no power 
 but what they derive from some difference between 
 the kings. In such a case they have a right to 
 support with their suffrage the prince whose 
 measures are salutary, against the other who con- 
 sults not the public good ; but when the kings 
 are unanimous, nothing can overrule their deter- 
 minations. To resist them is, then, to fight against 
 the laws. For, as we said, they can only decide 
 between the kings in case of disagreement ; when 
 their sentiments are the same, the ephori have no 
 right to interpose.” 
 
 The kings, prevailed upon by this argument, 
 entered the place of assembly with their_ friends, 
 where they removed the ephori from their seats, 
 and placed others in their room. Agesilaus was 
 one of these new magistrates. They then armed 
 a great number of the youth, and released many 
 out of prison ; upon which their adversaries were 
 struck with terror, expecting that many lives 
 would be lost. However, they put not one man 
 to the sword : on the contraiy, Agis understand- 
 ing that Agesilaus designed to kill Leonidas in 
 his flight to Tegea, and had planted assassins for 
 that purpose on the way, generously sent a party 
 of men whom he could depend upon, to es- 
 cort him, and they conducted him safely to 
 Tegea. 
 
 Thus the business went on with all the success 
 they could desire, and they had no farther oppo- 
 sition to encounter. But this excellent regu- 
 lation, so worthy of Lacedajmon, miscarried 
 through the failure of one of its pretended advo- 
 cates, the vile disease of avarice in Agesilaus. 
 He was possessed of a large and fine estate in 
 land, but at the same time deeply jn debt ; and 
 as he was neither able to pay his debts, nor 
 willing to part with his land, he represented to 
 Agis, that if both his intentions were carried into 
 execution at the same time, it would probably 
 raise great commotions in Sparta ; but if he first 
 obliged the rich by the cancelling of debts, they 
 would afterwards quietly and readily consent to 
 the distribution of lands. Agesilaus drew Ly- 
 sander, too, into the same snare. An order, there- 
 fore, was issued for bringing in all bonds (the 
 Lacedaemonians call them claria), and they were 
 piled together in the market-place, and burned. 
 When the fire began to burn, the usurers and 
 other creditors walked off in great distress. But 
 Agesilaus, in a scoffing way, said he never saw 
 a brighter or more glorious flame. 
 
 The common people demanded that the distri- 
 bution of lands should also be made immediately, 
 and the kings gave orders for it ; but Agesilaus 
 found out some pretence or other for delay, till it 
 was time for Agis to take the field in behalf of 
 the Achseans, who were allies of the Spartans, 
 and had applied to them for succours. For they 
 expected that the iFtolians would take the route 
 through the territory of Megara, and enter Pelo- 
 ponnesus. Aratus, general of the Achseans, 
 
 assembled an army to prevent it, and wrote to the 
 ephori for assistance. 
 
 They immediately sent Agis upon that service ; 
 and that prince went out with the highest hopes, 
 on account of the spirit of his men and their 
 attachment to his person. They were most of 
 them young men in very indifferent circum- 
 stances, who being now released from their debts, 
 and expecting a division of lands if they returned 
 from the war, strove to recommend themselves as 
 much as possible to Agis. It was a most agree- 
 able spectacle to the cities, to see thein march 
 through Peloponnesus without committing the 
 least violence, and with such discipline that they 
 were scarce heard as they passed. The Greeks 
 said one to another, “ With what excellent order 
 and decency must the armies under Agesilaus, 
 Lysander, or Agesilaus of old, have moved, when 
 we find such exact obedience, such reverence in 
 these Spartans to a general who is, perhaps, the 
 youngest man in the whole army ! ” Indeed, this 
 young prince’s simplicity of diet, his love of 
 labour, and his affecting no show either in his 
 dress or arms above a private soldier, made all 
 the common people, as he passed, look on with 
 pleasure and admiration : but his new regulations 
 at Lacedmmon displeased the rich, and they were 
 afraid that he might raise commotions every- 
 where among the commonalty, and put them 
 upon following the example. 
 
 After Agis had joined Aratus at Corinth, m 
 the deliberations about meeting and fighting the 
 enemy he showed a proper courage and spirit, 
 without any enthusiastic or irrational flights. He 
 gave it as his opinion, that they should give 
 battle, and not suffer the war to enter the gates 
 of Peloponnesus. He would do, however, what 
 Aratus thought most expedient, because he was 
 the older man, and general of the Achseans, 
 whom he came not to dictate to, but to assist 
 in the war. 
 
 It must be acknowledged that Bato * of Sinope 
 relates it in another manner. ^ He says, Aratus 
 was for fighting, and Agis declined it. But Bato 
 had never met with what Aratus writes by way of 
 apology for himself upon this point. That general 
 tells us, that as the husbandmen had almost 
 finished their harvest, he thought it better to 
 let the enemy pass, than to hazard by a battle 
 the loss of the whole country. Therefore, when 
 Aratus determined not to fight, and dismissed 
 his allies with compliments on their readiness to 
 serve him, Agis, who had gained great honour 
 by his behaviour, marched back to Sparta, where, 
 by this time, internal troubles and changes de- 
 manded his presence. 
 
 Agesilau.s, still one of the ephori^ and de- 
 livered from the pressure of debt which had 
 weighed down his spirits, scrupled no act of 
 injustice that might bring money into his coffers. 
 He even added to the year a thirteenth month, 
 though the proper period for that intercalation 
 was not come, and insisted on the people’s paying 
 supernumerary taxes for that month. Being 
 afraid, however, of revenge from those he had 
 injured, and seeing himself hated by_ all^ the 
 ■ world, he thought it necessary to maintain a 
 guard, which always attended him to the senate- 
 house. As to the kings, he expressed an utter 
 contempt for one of them, and the respect he 
 
 * He wrote the history of Persia. j 
 
AGIS. 
 
 551 
 
 paid the other he would have understood to be, 
 rather on account of his being his kinsman, than 
 his wearing the crown. Besides, he propagated 
 a report, that he should be one of the ephori the 
 year following. His enemies, therefore, deter- 
 mined to hazard an immediate attempt against 
 him, and openly brought back Leonidas from 
 Tegea, and placed him on the throne. The 
 people saw it with pleasure ; for they were angry 
 at finding themselves deceived with respect to 
 the promised distribution of lands. Agesilaus 
 had hardly escaped their fury, had not his son 
 Hippomedon, who was held in great esteem by 
 the whole city on account of his valour, inter- 
 ceded for his life. 
 
 ^ The kings both took sanctuary ; Agis in Chal- 
 ciaecus, and Cleombrotus in the temple of Nep- 
 tune. It was against the latter that Leonidas 
 was most incensed ; and therefore passing Agis 
 by, he went with a party of soldiers to seize 
 Cleombrotus, whom he reproached, in terms of 
 resentment, with conspiring against him, though 
 honoured with his alliance, depriving him of the 
 crown, and banishing him his country. 
 
 Cleombrotus had nothing to say, but sat in the 
 deepest distress _ and silence. " Chelonis, the 
 daughter of Leonidas, had looked upon the injury 
 done her father as done to herself : when Cleom- 
 brotus robbed him of the crown, she left him, to 
 console her father in his misfortune. While he 
 was in sanctuary, she stayed with him, and when 
 he retired she attended him in his flight, sympa- 
 thizing with his sorrow, and full of resentment 
 against Cleombrotus. But when the fortunes of 
 her father changed, she changed too. She joined 
 her husband as a suppliant, and was found sitting 
 by him with great marks of tenderness, and her 
 two children, one on each side, at her feet. The 
 whole company were much struck at the sight, 
 and they could not refrain from tears v/heii they 
 considered her goodness of heart and such superior 
 instances of affection. 
 
 Chelonis then pointing to her mourning habit 
 and dishevelled hair, thus addressed Leonidas. 
 “It was not, my dear father, compassion for 
 Cleombrotus which put me in this habit, and 
 gave me this look of misery. My sorrows took 
 their date with your misfortunes and your banish- 
 ment, and have ever since remained my familiar 
 companions. Now you have conquered your 
 enemies, and are again king of Sparta, should 
 I still retain these ensigns of affliction, or assume 
 festival and royal ornaments while the husband of 
 my youth, whom you gave me, falls a victim to 
 your vengeance. If his own submission, if the 
 tears of his wife and children cannot propitiate 
 you, he must suffer a severer punishment for his 
 offences than you require : he must see his 
 beloved wife die before him : for how can I live 
 and support the sight of my own sex, after both 
 my husband and my father have refused to 
 hearken to my supplication — when it appears that, 
 both as a wife and a daughter, I am boni to be 
 miserable with my family ? If this poor man had 
 any plausible reasons for what he did, I obviated 
 them all by forsaking him to follow you. But 
 you furnish him with a sufficient apology for his 
 misbehaviour, by showing that a crown is so great 
 and desirable an object, that a son-in-law must be 
 slain, and a daughter utterly disregarded, where 
 that is in the question.” 
 
 Chelonis, after this supplication, rested her 
 
 cheek on her husband’s head, and with an eye 
 dim and languid with sorrow looked round on the 
 spectators. Leonidas consulted his friends upon 
 the point, and then commanded Cleombrotus to 
 rise and go into exile ; but he desired Chelonis to 
 stay, and not leave so affectionate a father, who 
 had been kind enough to grant her her husband’s 
 lite. Chelonis, however, would not be persuaded. 
 When her husband was risen from the ground, 
 she put one child in his arms, and took the other 
 herself, and after having paid due homage at the 
 altar where they had taken sanctuary, she went 
 with him into banishment. So that, had not 
 Cleombrotus been corrupted with the love of 
 false glorj', he must have thought exile, with 
 such a woman, a greater happiness than a king- 
 dom without her. 
 
 After Cleombrotus was thus expelled, the 
 ephori removed, and others put in their place, 
 Leonidas laid a scheme to get Agis into his 
 power. At first, he desired him to leave his 
 sanctuary, and resume his share in the govern- 
 ment, For the people, he said, thought he 
 might well be pardoned, as a young man am- 
 bitious of honour ; and the rather, because they, 
 as well as he, had been deceived by the craft of 
 Agesilaus. But when he found that Agis sus- 
 pected him, and chose to stay where he was, he 
 threw ofl" the mask of kindness, Amphares, 
 Demochares, and Arcesilaus, used to give Agis 
 their company, for they were his intimate friends. 
 They likewise conducted him from the temple to 
 the bath, and, after he had bathed, brought him 
 back to the sanctuary. Amphares had lately 
 borrowed a great deal of plate and other rich 
 furniture of Agesistrata, and he hoped that if he 
 could destroy the king and the princesses of his 
 family, he might keep those goods as his own. 
 On this account he is said to have first listened 
 to the suggestions of Leonidas, and to have 
 endeavoured to bring the ephori. his colleagues, 
 to do the same. 
 
 As Agis spent the rest of his time in the temple, 
 and only went out to the bath, they resolved to 
 make use of that opportunity. Therefore, one 
 day on his return,, they met him with a great 
 appearance of friendship, and as they conducted 
 him on his way, conversed with much freedom 
 and gaiety, which his youth and their intimacy 
 with him seemed to warrant. But when they 
 came to the turning of a street which led to the 
 prison, Amphares, by virtue of his office, arrested 
 him. “ I take you, Agis,” said he, “ into custody, 
 in .order to your giving account to the ephori of 
 your admin.stration.” At the same time, Demo- 
 chares, who was a tall strong man, wrapped his 
 cloak about his head, and dragged him off. The 
 rest, as they had previously concerted tbe thing, 
 pushed him on behind, and no one coming to his 
 rescue or assistance, he was committed to prison. 
 
 Leonidas presently came with a strong band of 
 mercenaries, to secure the prison without : and 
 the eph^i entered it, with such senators as were 
 of their party. They began, as in a judicial 
 process, with demanding what he had to say in 
 defence of his proceedings ; and as the young 
 prince only laughed at their dissimulation, Am- 
 phares told him they would soon make him 
 weep for his presumption. Another of the 
 ephori, seeming inclined to put him in a way 
 of excusing himself and getting oflf, asked him 
 whether Lysander and Agesilaus had not forced 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 552 
 
 him into the measures he took. But Agis 1 
 answered, “ 1 was forced by no man ; it was my 
 attachnient to the institutions of Lycurgus, and 
 my desire to imitate him, which made me adopt 
 his form of government.*’ Then the same magis- 
 trate demanded whether he repented of what 
 he had done; and his answer was, “I shall 
 never repent of so glorious a design, though I 
 see death before my eyes.” Upon this they 
 passed sentence of death upon him, and com- 
 manded the officers to carry him into the decade, 
 which is a small apartment in the prison where 
 they strangle malefactors. But the officers durst 
 not touch him, and the very mercenaries declined 
 it ; for they thought it impious to lay violent 
 hands on a king. Demochares, seeing this, 
 loaded them with reproaches, and threatened to 
 punish them. At the same time he laid hold on 
 Agis hirnself, and thrust him into the dungeon. 
 
 By this time it was generally known that Agis 
 was taken into custody, and there was a great 
 concourse of people at the prison gates with 
 lanterns and torches. Among the numbers who 
 resented these proceedings, were the mother and 
 grandmother of Agis, crying out and begging 
 that the king might be heard and judged by the 
 people in full assembly. But this, instead of pro- 
 curing him a respite, hastened his execution ; for 
 they were afraid he would be rescued in the night, 
 if the tumult should increase. 
 
 As Agis was going to execution, he perceived 
 one of the officers lamenting his fate with tears ; 
 upon which, he said, “ My friend, dry up your 
 tears for, as I suffer innocently, I am in a better 
 condition than those who^ondemn me contrary to 
 law and justice.” So saying, he cheerfully offered 
 his neck to the executioner. 
 
 Amphares then going to the gate, Agesistrata 
 threw herself at his feet, on account of their long 
 intimacy and friendship. He raised her from the 
 ground, and told her, no farther violence should 
 be offered her son, nor should he now have any 
 hard treatment. He told her, too, she might go 
 in and see her son, if she pleased. She desired 
 that her mother might be admitted with her, and 
 Amphares assured her, there would be no objec- 
 tion. When he had let them in, he commanded 
 the gates to be locked again, and Archidamia to 
 
 be first introduced. She was very old, and had 
 lived ‘in great honour and esteem among the 
 Spartans. After she was put to death, he ordered 
 Agesistrata to walk in. She did so, and beheld 
 her son extended on the ground, and her mother 
 hanging by the neck. She assisted the officers in 
 taking Archidamia down, placed the body by that 
 of Agis, and wrapped it decently up. Then em- 
 bracing her son and kissing him, she said, “My 
 son, thy too great moderation, lenity and hu- 
 manity, have ruined both thee and us.” Am- 
 phares, who from the door saw and heard all that 
 passed, went up in great fury to Agesistrata, and 
 said, “If you approved your son’s actions, you 
 shall also have his reward.” ^ She rose up to meet 
 her fate, and said, with a sigh for her country, 
 “ May all this be for the good of Sparta ! ” 
 
 When these events were reported in the city, 
 and the three corpses carried out, the terror the 
 sad scene inspired was not so great but that the 
 people openly expressed their grief and indigna- 
 tion, and their hatred of Leonidas and Amphares. 
 For they were persuaded that there had not been 
 such a train of villainous and impious actions at 
 Sparta, since the Dorians first inhabited Pelo- 
 onnesus. The majesty of the kings of Sparta 
 ad been held in such veneration even by their 
 enemies, that they had scrupled to strike them 
 when they had opportunity for it in battle. 
 Hence it was, that in the many actions between 
 the Lacedaemonians and the other Greeks, the 
 former had lost only their king Cleombrotus, who 
 fell by a javelin at the battle of Leuctra a little 
 before the time of Philip of Macedon. As for 
 Theopompus, who, as the Messenians affirm, was 
 slain by Aristomenes, the Lacedaemonians deny 
 it, and say he was only wounded. That, indeed, 
 is a matter of some dispute : but it is certain that 
 Agis was the first king of Lacedaemon put to 
 death by the e^hori: and that he suffered only 
 for engaging in an enterprise that was truly 
 glorious and worthy of Sparta ; though he was 
 of an age at which even errors are considered as 
 pardonable. His friends had more reason to 
 complain of him than his enemies, for saving 
 Leonidas, and trusting his associates in the 
 undesigning generosity and goodness of his 
 heart. 
 
 CLEOMENES. 
 
 After Agis was put to death, Leonidas intended 
 the same fate for his brother Archidamus ; but 
 that prince saved himself by a timely retreat. 
 However, his wife Agiatis, who was newly 
 brought to bed, was forced by the tyrant from 
 her own house, and given to his son Cleomenes. 
 Cleomenes was not quite come to years of 
 maturity, but his father was not willing that any 
 other man should have the lady ; for she was 
 daughter to Gylippus, and heiress to his great 
 estate ; and in beauty, as well as happiness of 
 temper and conduct, superior to all the women 
 of Greece. She left nothing unattempted, to 
 prevent her being forced into this match, but 
 found all her efforts ineffectual. Therefore, when 
 she was married to Cleomenes, she made him a 
 good and affectionate wife, though she hated his 
 father. Cleomenes was passionately fond of her 
 
 from the first, and his attachment to his wife 
 made him sympathize with her on the mournful 
 remembrance of Agis. He would often ask her 
 for the history of that unfortunate prince, and 
 listen with great attention to her account of his 
 sentiments and designs. 
 
 Cleomenes was ambitious of glory, and had a 
 native greatness of mind. Nature had, more- 
 over, disposed him to temperance and simplicity 
 of manners, as much as Agis ; but he^ had not his 
 calmness and moderation. His spirit had an 
 ardour in it ; and there was an impetuosity in his 
 pursuits of honour, or whatever appeared to him 
 under that character. He thought it most glorious 
 to reign over a willing people ; but, at the same 
 time, he thought it not inglorious to subdue their 
 reluctances, and bring them against their inclina- 
 tions into what was good and salutary. 
 
CLEOMENES. 
 
 553 
 
 He was not satisfied with the prevailing manners 
 and customs of Sparta. He saw that ease and 
 pleasure were the great objects with the people ; 
 that the king paid but little regard to public con- 
 cerns, and if nobody gave him any disturbance, 
 chose to spend his time in the enjoyments of 
 affluence and luxury ; that individuals, entirely 
 actuated by self-interest, paid no attention to the 
 business of the state, any farther than they could 
 turn it to their own emolument. And what 
 rendered the prospect still more melancholy, it 
 appeared dangerous to make any mention of 
 training the youth to strong exercises and strict 
 temperance, to persevering fortitude and universal 
 equality, since the proposing of these things cost 
 Agis his life. 
 
 It is said, too, that Cleomenes was instructed in 
 
 hilosophy, at a very early period of life, by 
 
 phaerus the Borysthenite,* who came to Lace- 
 daemon, and taught the youth with great diligence 
 and success. Sphaerus was one of the principal 
 disciples of Zeno the Citiean ; f and it seems that 
 he admired the strength pf genius he found in 
 Cleomenes, and added fresh incentives to his love 
 of glory. We are informed, that, when Leonidas 
 of old was asked, what he thought of the poetry 
 of Tyrtaeus, he said, “I think it well calculated 
 to excite the_ courage of our youth ; for the 
 enthusiasm with which it inspires them makes 
 them fear no danger in battle.” So the stoic 
 philosophy X may put persons of great and fiery 
 spirits upon enterprises that are too desperate ; 
 but, in those of a grave and mild disposition, it 
 will produce all the good effects for which it was 
 designed. 
 
 When Leonidas died, and Cleomenes came to 
 the crown, he observed that all ranks of men 
 were utterly corrupted. The rich had an eye 
 only to private profit and pleasure, and utterly 
 neglected the public interest. The common 
 people, on account of the meanness of their cir- 
 cumstances, had no spirit for war, or ambition to 
 instruct their children in the Spartan exercises. 
 Cleomenes himself had only the name of king, 
 while the power was in the hands of the ephori. 
 He, therefore, soon began to think of changing 
 the present posture of affairs. He had a friend 
 called Xenares, united to him by such an affection 
 as the Spartans^ called inspiration. Him he first 
 sounded ; inquiring of him what kind of prince 
 Agis was ; by what steps, and with what asso- 
 ciates, he came into the way he took. Xenares 
 at first consented readily enough to satisfy his 
 curiosity, and gave him an exact narrative of the 
 proceedings. But when he found that Cleomenes 
 interested himself deeply in the affair, and took 
 such an enthusiastic pleasure in the new schemes 
 of Agis as to desire to hear them again and again, 
 
 * This Sphserus was born towards the end of 
 the reign of Ptolemy Philadelphus, and flourished 
 under that of Euergetes. Diogenes Laertius has 
 given us a catalogue of his works, which were 
 considerable. He was a scholar of Zeno, and 
 afterwards of Cleanthus. 
 
 so called to distinguish him from 
 Zeno of Elea, a city of Laconia, who flourished 
 about 200 years after the death of Zeno the 
 Citiean. Citium, of which the elder Zeno was 
 a natiye, was a town in C3rprus. 
 
 J From its tendency to inspire a contempt of 
 death, and a belief in the agency of Providence. 
 
 he reproved his distempered inclinations, and at 
 last entirely left his company. However, he did 
 not acquaint any one with the cause of their mis- 
 understanding ; but only said, Cleomenes knew 
 very well.^ As Xenares so strongly opposed the 
 king’s project, he thought others must be as little 
 disposed to come into it ; and therefore he con- 
 certed the whole matter by himself. In the per- 
 suasion that he could more easily effect his 
 intended change in time of war than of peace, he 
 embroiled his country’- with the Achseans, who 
 had indeed given sufficient occasion of complaint : 
 for Aratus, who was the leading man among them, 
 had laid it down as a principle, from the beginning 
 of his administration, to reduce all Peloponnesus 
 to one body. This was the end he had in view 
 in his numerous expeditions, and in all the pro- 
 ceedings of government, during the many years 
 that he held the reins in Achaia. And, indeed, 
 he was of opinion, that this was the only way to 
 secure Peloponnesus against its enemies without. 
 He had succeeded with most of the states of that 
 peninsula ; the Lacedaemonians and Eleans, and 
 such of the Arcadians as were in the Lacedae- 
 monian interest, were all that stood out. Upon 
 the death of Leonidas, he commenced hostilities 
 against the Arcadians, particularly those who 
 bordered upon the Achaeans ; by this means 
 designing to try how the Lacedaemonians stood 
 inclined. As for Cleomenes, he despised him as 
 a young man without experience. 
 
 The ephoriy however, sent Cleomenes to seize 
 Athenaum * near Belbina. This place is one of 
 the keys of Laconia, and was then in dispute 
 between the Spartans and Megalopolitans. Cleo- 
 menes accordingly took it and fortified it. Aratus 
 made no remonstrance, but marched by night to 
 surprise Tegea and Orchomenus. However, the 
 persons who had promised to betray those places 
 to him found their hearts fail them when they 
 came to the point ; and he retired, undiscovered 
 as he thought. _ Upon this, Cleomenes wrote to 
 him, in a familiar way, desiring to know whither 
 he marched the night before, Aratus answered, 
 that, understanding his design to fortify Belbina, 
 the intent of his last motion was to prevent that 
 measure. Cleomenes humorously replied, “ I 
 am satisfied with the account of your march J 
 but should be glad to know where those torches 
 and ladders were marching.” 
 
 Aratus could not help laughing at the jest ; 
 and he asked what kind of man this young prince 
 was. Democrates, a Lacedaemonian exile, an- 
 swered, If you design doing anything against 
 the Spartans, you must do it quickly, before the 
 spurs of this cockerel be grown.” 
 
 Cleomenes, with a few horse and 300 foot, was 
 now posted in Arcadia. The ephoriy apprehen- 
 sive of a war, commanded him home ; and he 
 obeyed. But finding that, in consequence of 
 this retreat, Aratus had taken Caphyae, they 
 ordered him to take the field again. Cleomenes 
 made himself master of Methydrium, and ravaged 
 the territories of Argos. Whereupon the Achaeans 
 marched against him with 20,000 foot and 1000 
 horse, under the command of Aristomachus. 
 Cleomenes met him at Palantium, and offered 
 him battle. But Aratus, intimidated by this 
 instance of the young prince s spirit, dissuaded 
 the general from engaging, and retreated. This 
 
 * A temple of Minerva. 
 
554 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 retreat exposed Aratus to reproach among the 
 Achaeans, and to scorn and contempt among the 
 Spartans, whose army consisted not of more than 
 5000 men. Cleomenes, elevated with his success, 
 began to talk in a higher tone among the people, 
 and bade them remember an expression of one of 
 their ancient kings, who said the Lacedaemonians 
 seldom inquired the number of their enemies, but 
 the place where they could be found. 
 
 After this, he went to the assistance of the 
 Eleans, against whom the Achaeans had now 
 turned their arms. He attacked the latter at 
 Lycaeum, as they were upon the retreat, and put 
 them entirely to the rout ; not only spreading 
 terror through their whole army, but killing 
 great numbers, and making many prisoners. It 
 was even reported among the Greeks, that Aratus 
 was of the number of the slain. Aratus, avail- 
 ing himself in the best manner of the oppor- 
 tunity, with the troops that attended him in his 
 flight, marched immediately to Mantinea, and 
 coming upon it by surprise, took it, and secured 
 it for the Achaeans. 
 
 The Lacedaemonians, greatly dispirited at this 
 loss, opposed Cleomenes in his inclination for 
 war. He therefore bethought himself of calling 
 Archidamus, the brother of Agis, from Messene, 
 to whom, in the other family, the crown be- 
 longed ; for he imagined that the power of the 
 ephori would not be so formidable when the 
 kingly government, according to the Spartan 
 constitution, was complete, and had its proper 
 weight in the scale. The party that had put 
 A^is to death perceiving this, and dreading 
 vengeance from Archidamus, if he should be 
 established on the throne, took this method to 
 prevent it. They joined in inviting him to come 
 privately to Sparta, and even assisted him in his 
 return; but they assassinated him immediately 
 after. Whether it was against the consent of 
 Cleomenes, as Phylarchus thinks, or whether his 
 friends persuaded him to abandon that unhappy 
 prince, we cannot take upon us to say. The 
 greatest part of the blame, however, fell upon 
 those friends who, if he gave his consent, were 
 supposed to have teased him into it. 
 
 By this time he was resolved to carry his 
 intended changes into immediate execution ; and 
 therefore he bribed the ephori to permit him to 
 renew the war. He gained also many others by 
 the assistance of his mother Cratesiclea, who 
 liberally supplied him with money, and joined in 
 his schemes of glory. Nay, it is said, that, 
 though disinclined to marry again, for her son’s 
 sake she accepted a man who had great interest 
 and authority among the people. 
 
 One of his first operations was, the going 
 to seize Leuctra, which is a place within the 
 dependencies of Megalopolis. The Achaeans 
 hastened to its relief, under the command of 
 Aratus ; and a battle was fought under the walls, 
 in which part of the Lacedaemonian arrny was 
 beaten. But Aratus stopping the pursuit at a 
 defile which was in the way, Lysiadas,* the 
 Megalopolitan, offended at the order, encouraged 
 the cavalry under his command to pursue the 
 advantage they had gained ; by which means 
 he entangled them among vineyards, ditches, 
 
 * In the text it is Lydiadas. But Polybius 
 calls him Lysiadas ; and so does Plutarch in 
 another place. 
 
 and other enclosures, where they were forced to 
 break their ranks, and fell into great disorder. 
 Cleomenes, seeing his opportunity, commanded 
 the Tarentines and Cretans to fall upon them ; 
 and Lysiadas, after great exertions of valour, 
 was defeated and slain. The Lacedaemonians, 
 thus encouraged, returned to the action with 
 shouts of joy, and routed the whole Achaean 
 army. After a considerable carnage, a truce was 
 granted the survivors, and they were permitted 
 to bury their dead ; but Cleomenes ordered the 
 body of Lysiadas to be brought to him. He 
 clothed it in robes of purple, and put a crown 
 upon its head ; and, in this attire, he sent it to 
 the gates oi Megalopolis. This was that Ly- 
 siadas who restored liberty to the city jn which 
 he was an absolute prince, and united it to the 
 Achaean league. 
 
 Cleomenes, greatly elated with this victory, 
 thought, if matters were once entirely at his 
 disposal in Sparta, the Achaeans would no longer 
 be able to stand before him. For this reason he 
 endeavoured to convince his father-in-law, Megis- 
 tonus, that the yoke of the ephori ought to be 
 broken, and an equal division of property to be 
 made ; by means of which equality, Sparta 
 would resume her ancient valour, and once more 
 rise to the empire of Greece. Megistonus com- 
 plied, and the king then took two or three other 
 friends into the scheme. 
 
 About that time, one of the ephori had a sur- 
 prising dream, as he slept jn the temple of 
 Pasiphae. He thought, that, in the court where 
 the ephori used to sit for the despatch of busi- 
 ness, four chairs were taken away, and only one 
 left. And as he was wondering at the_ change, 
 he heard a voice from the sanctuary, which said, 
 “This is best for Sparta.” The magistrate re- 
 lated this vision of his to Cleomenes, who at 
 first was greatly disconcerted, thinking that some 
 suspicion had led him to sound his intentions. 
 But when he found that there was no fiction in 
 the case, he was the more confirmed in his pur- 
 pose ; and taking with him such of the citizens 
 as he thought most likely to oppose it, he 
 marched against Hersea and Alsaea, two cities 
 belonging to the Achaean league, and took them. 
 After this, he laid in a store of provisions at Orcho- 
 menus, and then besieged Mantinea. At last he 
 so harassed the Lacedaemonians by a variety of 
 long marches, that most of them desired to be 
 left in Arcadia ; and he returned to Sparta with 
 the mercenaries only. By the way he com- 
 municated his design to such of them as he be- 
 lieved most' attached to his interest, and advanced 
 slowly, that he might come upon the ephori as 
 they were at supper. 
 
 When he approached the town, he sent Eury- 
 clidas before him to the hall where those magis- 
 trates used to sup, upon pretence of his being 
 charged with some message relative to the 
 army. He was accompanied by Thericion and 
 Phoebis, and two other young men who had been 
 educated with Cleomenes, and whom the Spar- 
 tans call Samothracians. These were at the 
 head of a small party. ^ While Euryclidas was 
 holding the ephori in discourse, the others ran 
 upon them with their drawn swords. They were 
 all slain but Agesilaus, and he was then thought 
 to have shared the same fate ; for he was the first 
 man that fell ; but in a little time he conveyed 
 himself silently out of the room, and crept into 
 
CLEOMENES, 555 
 
 a little building, which was the temple of Fear. 
 This temple was generally shut up, but then 
 happened to be open. When he was got in, he 
 immediately barred the door. The other four 
 were despatched outright ; and so were above 
 ten more who came to their assistance. Those 
 who remained quiet received no harm; nor 
 were any hindered from departing the city. 
 Nay, Agesilaus himself was spared, when he 
 came the next day out of the temple.* 
 
 The Lacedaemonians have not only temples 
 dedicated to Fear, but also to Death, to 
 Laughter, and many of the passions. Nor do 
 they pay homage to Fear, as one of the noxious 
 and destroying demons, but they consider it as 
 the best cement of society. Hence it was that 
 the ephori (as Aristotle tells us), when they 
 entered upon their office, caused proclamation 
 to be made, that the people should shave the 
 upper lip, and be obedient to the laws, that they 
 might not be under the necessity of having re- 
 course to severity. ^ As for the shaving of the 
 upper lip, in my opinion, all the design of that 
 injunction is, to teach the youth obedience in 
 the smallest matters. And it seems to me, that 
 the ancients did not think that valour consists in 
 the exemption from fear ; but on the contrary, 
 in the fear of reproach, and the dread of in- 
 famy : for those who stand most in fear of the 
 law act with the greatest intrepidity against the 
 enemy ; and they who are most tender of their 
 reputation look with the least concern upon 
 other dangers. Therefore one of the poets said 
 well — 
 
 Ingenuous shame resides with fear. 
 
 Hence Homer makes Helen say to her father-in- 
 law, Priamus — 
 
 Before thy presence, father, I appear, 
 
 With conscious shame and reverential fear. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 And, in another place, he says, the Grecian 
 troops — 
 
 With fear and silence on their chiefs attend. 
 
 For reverence, in vulgar minds, is generally the 
 concomitant of fear. And, therefore, the Lace- 
 dsemonians placed the temple of Fear near the 
 hall where the ephori used to eat, to show that 
 their authority was nearly equal to the regal. 
 
 ^ Next day Cleomenes proscribed eighty of the- 
 citizens, whom he thought it necessary to expel ; 
 and he removed all the seats of the ephori except 
 one, in which he designed to sit himself, to hear 
 causes and despatch other business. Then he 
 assembled the people, in order to explain and 
 defend what he had done. His speech was to 
 this effect: “The administration was put by 
 Lycurgus into the hands of the kings and the 
 senate ; and Sparta was governed by them a long 
 time, without any occasion for other magistrates. 
 But, as the Messenian war was drawn out to a 
 great length, and the kings, having the armies to 
 conarnand, had not leisure to attend to the 
 decision of causes at home, they pitched upon 
 some of their friends to be left as their deputies, 
 for that purpose, under the title of ephori or in- 
 spectors. At first they behaved as substitutes 
 and servants to the kings ; but, by little and 
 little, they got the power into their own hands, 
 and insensibly erected their office into an inde- 
 
 pendent magistracy.* A proof of this is a custom 
 which has obtained till this time, that w'hen the 
 ephori sent for the king, he refused to hearken to 
 the first and second message,, and did not attend 
 them till they sent a third. Asteropus was the 
 first of the ephori who raised their office to that 
 height of authority many ages after their creation. 
 While they kept within the bounds of moderation, 
 it wms better to endure than to remove them : 
 but when, by their usurpations, they destroyed 
 the ancient form of government ; when they de- 
 posed some kings, put others to death without 
 any form of trial, and threatened those princes 
 who desire to see the divine constitution of their 
 country in its original lustre, they became abso- 
 lutely insupportable. Had it been possible, with- 
 out the shedding of blood, to have exterminated 
 those pests which they had introduced into Lace- 
 dmmon ; such as luxury, superfluous expense, 
 debts, usury, and those more ancient evils, 
 poverty and riches, I should then have thought 
 myself the happiest of kings. In curing the dis- 
 tempers of my country, I should have been con- 
 sidered as the physician whose lenient hand heals 
 without giving pain. But for wffiat necessity has 
 obliged me to do I have the authority of Ly- 
 curgus, who, though neither king nor magistrate, 
 but only a private man, took upon him to act as 
 a kingjt and appeared publicly in arms. The 
 consequence of which was, that Charilaus, the 
 reigning prince, in great consternation, fled to the 
 altar. But being a mild and patriotic king, he 
 soon entered into the designs of Lycurgus, and 
 accepted his new form of government. There- 
 fore, the proceedings of Lycurgus are an evidence 
 that it is next to impossible to new-model a consti- 
 tution without the terror of an armed force. For 
 my own part, I have applied that remedy nath 
 great moderation ; only ridding myself of such as 
 opposed the true interest of Lacedaemon. Among 
 the rest, I shall make a distribution of all the 
 lands, and clear the people of their debts. Among 
 the strangers, I shall select some of the best and 
 ablest, that they may be admitted citizens of 
 Sparta, and protect her with their arms ; and 
 that we may no longer see Laconia a prey to the 
 .^tolians and Illyrians for want of a sufficient 
 number of inhabitants concerned for its defence.” 
 When he had finished his speech, he was the 
 first to surrender his own estate into the public 
 stock. His father-in-law ^legistonus, and, his 
 other friends, followed his example. The rest of 
 the citizens did the same ; and then the land was 
 divided. He even assigned lots for each of the 
 persons whom he had driven into exile ; and de- 
 clared that they should all be recalled when tran- 
 quility had once more taken place. Having 
 filled up the number of citizens out of the best of 
 the inhabitants of the neighbouring countries, he 
 raised a body of 4000 foot, whom he taught to 
 use the two-handed pike instead of the javelin, 
 and to hold their shields by a handle, and not by 
 a ring as before. Then he applied himself to the 
 
 * When the authority of the kings was grown 
 too enormous, Theopompus found it necessary to 
 curb it by the institution of ephori. But they 
 
 were not as Cleomenes says ; they were, in their 
 first establishment, ministers to the kings. 
 
 t Lycurgus never assumed or aspired to regal 
 authority ; and Cleomenes mentions this only to 
 take off the odium from himself. 
 
556 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 education of the youth, and formed them \yith all 
 the strictness of the Lacedaemonian discipline ; in 
 the course of \^ich he was much assisted by 
 Sphaerus. Their schools of exercise, and their 
 refectories, were soon brought into that good 
 order which they had of old ; some being reduced 
 to it by compulsion, but the greatest part coming 
 voluntarily into that noble training peculiar to 
 Sparta. However, to prevent any offence that 
 might be taken at the name of monarchy, he 
 made his brother Euclidas his partner in the 
 throne ; and this was the only time that the Spar- 
 tans had two kings of the same family. 
 
 He observed that the Achseans, and Aratus, 
 the principal man among them, were persuaded 
 that the late change had brought the Spartan 
 affairs into a doubtful and unsettled state ; and 
 that he would not quit the city while it was in 
 such a ferment. He therefore thought it would 
 have both its honour and utility to show the 
 enemy how readily his troops would obey him. 
 In consequence of which he entered the hlegalo- 
 politan territories, where he spread desolation, 
 and made a very considerable booty. In one of 
 his last marches he seized a company of come- 
 dians who were on the road from hlessene ; 
 upon which, he built a stage in the enemy’s 
 country ; proposed a prize of forty mtnee to the 
 best performer, and spent one day in seeing them. 
 Not that he set any great value on such diver- 
 sions, but he did it by way of insult upon the 
 enemy, to show his superiority by this mark of 
 contempt. For, among the Grecian and roj’^al 
 armies, his was the only one w'hich had not a 
 train of players, jugglers, singers, and dancers, 
 of both sexes. No intemperance or buffoonery, 
 no public shows or feasts, except on the late 
 occasion, were ever seen in Hs camp. The young 
 men passed the greatest part of their time in the 
 exercises, and the old men in teaching them. 
 The hours of leisure were amused with cheerful 
 discourse, which had all the smartness of laconic 
 repartee. This kind of amusement had those 
 advantages which we have ihentioned in the life 
 of Lycurgus.^ 
 
 The king himself was the best teacher. Plain 
 and simple in his equipage and diet, assuming no 
 manner of pomp above a common citizen, he set 
 a glorious example of sobriety. This was no 
 small advantage to his affairs in Greece. WTien 
 the Greeks addressed themselves to other kings, 
 they did not so much admire^ their wealth and 
 magnificence, as execrate their pride and spirit 
 of ostentation, their difficulty of access, and harsh- 
 ness of behaviour to all who had business at their 
 courts. But when they applied to Cleomenes, 
 who not only bore the title, but had all the great 
 qualities, of a king, they saw no purple or robes 
 of state, no rich carriages, no gaimtlet of pages 
 or door-keepers to be run. Nor had they their 
 answer, after great difficulties, from the mouth of 
 secretaries; but they found him in an ordinary 
 habit, ready to meet them and offer them his 
 hand. He received them with a cheerful coun- 
 tenance, and entered into their business with the 
 utmost ease and freedom. This engaging manner 
 gained their hearts ; and they declared he was 
 the only worthy descendant of Hercules. 
 
 His common supper was short and truly la- 
 conic. There were only couches for three people ; 
 but when he entertained ambassadors or strangers 
 two more cOuches were added, and the table was 
 
 a little better furnished by the servants. Not 
 that any curious dessert was added ; only the 
 dishes were larger, and the wine more generous : 
 for he blamed one of his friends for setting nothing 
 before strangers but thd coarse cake and black 
 broth which they ate in their common refectories. 
 “ When we have strangers to entertain, ” he said, 
 “ we need not be such very exact Lacedaemonians. ” 
 After supper, a three-legged stand was brought 
 in, upon which were placed a brass bowl full of 
 wine, two silver pots that held about a pint and a 
 half a-piece, and a few cups of the same metal. 
 Such of the guests as were inclined to drink, 
 made use of these vessels, for the cup was not 
 pressed upon any man against his will. There 
 was no music or other extrinsic amusement ; nor 
 was any such thing wanted. He entertained his 
 company very agreeably with his own conversa- 
 tion ; sometimes asking questions, and sometimes 
 telling stories. His serious discourse was per- 
 fectly free from moroseness ; and his mirth from 
 petulance and rusticitj'-. The arts which other 
 princes used of drawing men to their purpose by 
 bribery and corruption he looked upon as both 
 iniquitous and impolitic. But to engage and fix 
 people in his interest by the charms of conversa- 
 tion, without fraud or guile, appeared to him an 
 honourable method, and worthy of a king. For 
 he thought this the true difference between a 
 hireling and a friend ; that the one is gained by 
 money, and the other by an obliging behaviour. 
 
 The Mantineans were the first who applied for 
 his assistance. They admitted him into their 
 city in the night, and having with his help ex- 
 pelled the Achsean garrison, put themselves under 
 his protection. He re-established their laws and 
 ancient form of government, and retired the same 
 day to Tegea. From thence he fetched a com- 
 pass through Arcadia, and marched down to 
 Pherse in Achaia ; intending by this movement 
 either to bring the Achseans to a battle, or make 
 them look upon Aratus in a mean light, for giving 
 up the country, as it were, to his destroying 
 sword. 
 
 Hyperbatas was indeed general at that time, 
 but Aratus had all the authority. The Achseans 
 assembled their forces, and encamped at Dymese* 
 near Hecatomboeum ; upon which Cleomenes 
 marched up to them, though it was thought a 
 rash step for him to take post between Dymese, 
 which belonged to the enemy, and the Achsean 
 ,camp. However, he boldly challenged the 
 
 Achseans, and indeed forced them to battle, in 
 which he entirely defeated them, killed great 
 numbers upon the spot, and took many prisoners. 
 Lango was his next object, from which he ex- 
 pelled an Achsean garrison, and then put the 
 town into the hands of the Eleans. 
 
 When the Achaean affairs were in this ruinous 
 state, Aratus, who used to be general every other 
 year, refused the command, though they pressed 
 him strongly to accept it. But certainly it was 
 wrong, when such a storm was raging, to quit the 
 helm, and leave the direction to another. The 
 first demands of Cleomenes appesured to the 
 Achaean deputies moderate enough ; afterwards 
 he insisted on having the command himself. In 
 other matters, he said, he should not differ with 
 them, for he would restore them both the prisoners 
 and their lands. The Achseans agreed to a paci- 
 
 * Polybius calls it Dymse. 
 
CLEOMENES, 
 
 SSI 
 
 fication on these conditions, and invited Cleomenes 
 to ]>ma, where a general assembly of them state 
 was to be held. But Cleomenes, hastening his 
 march too much, heated himself, and then very 
 imprudently drank cold water ; the consequence 
 of which was, that he threw up a great quantity 
 of blood, and lost the use of his speech. He 
 therefore sent the Achseans the most respectable 
 of the prisoners, and putting off the meeting, 
 retired to Lacedaemon. 
 
 This ruined the affairs of Greece. Had it not 
 been for this, she might have recovered out of her 
 present distress, and have maintained herself 
 against the insolence and rapaciousness of the 
 Macedonians. Aratus either feared or distrusted 
 Cleomenes, or envied his unexpected success. 
 He thought it intolerable that a young man newly 
 sprung up should rob him at once of the honour 
 and power which he had been in possession of for 
 three and thirty years, and come into a govern- 
 ment which had been growing so long under his 
 auspices. For this reason, he first tried what his 
 interest and powers of persuasion would do to 
 keep the Achsans from closing with Cleomenes ; 
 but they were prevented from attending to him, 
 by their admiration of the great spirit of Cleo- 
 menes, and their opinion that the demands of the 
 Spartans were not unreasonable, who only desired 
 to bring Peloponnesus back to its ancient model. 
 Aratus then undertook a thing which would not 
 have become any man in Greece, but in him was 
 particularly dishonourable, and unworthy of all 
 his former conduct, both in the cabinet and the 
 field. He called Antigonus into Greece, and 
 filled Peloponnesus with Macedonians, though in 
 his youth he had expelled them, and rescued the 
 citadel of Corinth out of their hands. He was even j 
 an enemy to ail kings, and was equally hated j 
 by them. Antigonus, in particular, he loaded j 
 with a thousand reproaches, as appears from the 1 
 writings he has left behind ham.* He boasts that { 
 he had encountered and overcome innumerable j 
 difficulties in order to deliver Athens from a j 
 Macedonian garrison ; and yet he brought those } 
 very Macedonians, armed as they were, into his i 
 o\\Ti coimtry, into his own house, and even into ! 
 the women s apartment. At the same time he j 
 could not bear that a Spartan king, a descen- : 
 dant of Hercules, who wanted only to restore the , 
 ancient polity of his country, to correct its broken ^ 
 harmony, and bring it back to the sober Doric | 
 tone which Lycurgus had given it ; t he could 
 not bear that such a prince should be declared i 
 general of the Sicyonians and Triccaeans.+ While : 
 he avoided the coarse cake and short cloak, and, 
 what he thought the greatest grievance m the ^ 
 whole system of Cleomenes, the abolishing of | 
 riches and the making poverty a more support- ; 
 able thing, he made Achaia truckle to the diadem ; 
 and purple of Macedonians, and of Asiatic gran- j 
 dees. To shim the apf>earance of submission to 1 
 Cleomenes, he offered sacrifices to the divinity of i 
 Antigonus, and, with a garland on his head, sung j 
 
 * Aratus wrote a history of the Achaeans, and 
 of his own conduct. 
 
 t The music, like the architecture, of the i 
 Dorians was remarkable for its simphcity. j 
 
 X This probably should be Tritaeans. Triteae l 
 was a city of Phocis, and comprehended in the 
 league ; but Tricca, which was in Thessaly, could . 
 hardly be so. I 
 
 paeans in honour of a rotten Macedonian. These 
 things we say not in accusation of Aratus (for in 
 many respects he was a great man and worthy of 
 Greece); we mean only to point out with com- 
 passion the weakness of human nature, which, in 
 dispositions the best formed to virtue, can pro- 
 duce no excellence without some taint of imper- 
 fection. 
 
 When the Achaeans assembled again at Argos, 
 and Cleomenes came down from Tegea to meet 
 them, the Greeks entertained great hopes of 
 peace. But Aratus, who had already settled the 
 principal points with Antigonus, fearing that 
 Cleomenes, either by his obliging manner of 
 tre ating, or by force, would gain aU he wanted 
 of the people, proposed that he should take 300 
 hostages for the security of his person, and enter 
 the town alone ; or, if he did not approve of 
 that proposal, should come to the place of exercise 
 without the walls, called Cyllarabium,* and treat 
 there at the head of his army. Cleomenes 
 remonstrated, that these proceedings were very 
 unjust. He said they should have made him 
 these proposals at first, and not now, when he 
 was come to their gates, distrust and shut him 
 out. He therefore wrote the Achmans a letter 
 on this subject, almost filled with complaints of 
 Aratus ; and the applications of Aratus to the 
 people w'ere little more than invectives against 
 the king of Sparta. The consequence of this was, 
 that the latter quickly retired, and sent a herald 
 to declare w'ar against the Achseans. This herald, 
 according to Aratus, was sent not to Argos, but 
 to jiFgium,i* in order that the Achaeans might be 
 entirely unprepared. There were at this time 
 great commotions among the members of the 
 Achaean league ; and many towns were ready to 
 fall off" : for the common x>eople hoped for an 
 equal distribution of lands, and to have their 
 debts cancelled ; w^hile the better sort in general 
 were displeased at Aratus, and some of them 
 highly provoked at his bringing the Macedonians 
 into Peloponnesus. 
 
 Encomaged by these misimderstandings, Qeo- 
 menes entered Achaia ; where he first took PeUene 
 by surprise, and dislodged the Achaean garrison. 
 Afterwards he made himself master of Pheneum 
 and Penteleum. As the Achaeans were appre- 
 hensive of a revolt at Corinth and Sicyon, they 
 sent a body of cavalry and some mercenaries 
 from Argos to guard against any measures tend- 
 ing that way, and w'ent themselves to celebrate 
 the Nemean games at Argos. Upon this, Cleo- 
 menes hoping, what really proved the case, that, 
 if he could come suddenly upon the city, while 
 it w’as ^ed with multitudes assembled to partake 
 of the diversions, he should throw all into the 
 greatest confusion, marched up to the w'alls by 
 night, and seized the quarter called Aspis, which 
 lay above the theatre, notwithstanding its diffi- 
 culty of access. This struck them with such terror 
 that not a man thought of making any resistance ; 
 they agreed to receive a garrison, and gave twenty 
 of the citizens as hostages for their acting as 
 allies to Sparta, and foiioiving the standard of 
 Cleomenes as their general. 
 
 * From Cyllarbus, the son of Sthenelus. 
 
 t This was a maritime town of Achaia, on the 
 Corinthian Bay. The intention of Cleomenes 
 was to take it by surprise, before the inhabitants 
 could have intelligence of the war. 
 
558 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 Tills action added greatly to the fame and 
 authority of that prince. For the ancient kings 
 of Sparta, with all their endeavours, could never 
 fix Argos in their interest ; and Pyrrhus, one of 
 the ablest generals in the world, though he forced 
 his way into the town, could not hold it, but lost 
 his life in the attempt, and had great part of his 
 army cut in pieces. Hence the despatch and 
 keenness of Cleomenes were the more admired ; 
 and they who before had laughed at him for 
 declaring he would tread in the steps of Solon 
 and Lycurgus, in the cancelling of debts, and 
 in an equal division of property, were now fully 
 persuaded that he was the sole cause of all the 
 change in the spirit and success of the Spartans. 
 In both respects they were so contemptible before, 
 and so little able to help themselves, t^t the 
 iEtolians made an inroad into Laconia, and 
 carried off 50,000 slaves. On which occasion, 
 one of the old Spartans said the enemy had done 
 them a kindness, in taking such a heavy charge 
 off their hands. Yet they had no sooner returned 
 to their primitive customs and discipline, than, 
 as if Lycurgus himself had restored his polity, 
 and invigorated it with his presence, they had 
 given the most extraordinary instances of valour 
 and obedience to their magistrates, in raising 
 Sparta to its ancient superiority in Greece, and 
 recovering Peloponnesus. 
 
 Cleonae and Phlius * came in the same tide of 
 success with Argos. Aratus was then making an 
 inquisition at Corinth into the conduct of such as 
 were reported to be in the Lacedaemonian interest. 
 But when the news of their late losses reached 
 him, and he found that the city was falling off to 
 Cleomenes, and wanted to get rid of the Achaeans, 
 he was not a little alarmed. In this confusion he 
 could think of no better expedient than that of 
 calling the citizens to council, and in the mean 
 time, he stole away to the gate. A horse being 
 ready for him there, he mounted and fled to 
 Sicyon. The Corinthians were in such haste 
 to pay their compliments to Cleomenes, that, 
 Aratus tells us, they killed or spoilecl all their 
 horses. He acquaints us also, that Cleomenes 
 highly blamed the people of Corinth for suffering 
 him to escape. Nevertheless, he adds, that Me- 
 gistonus came to him on the part of that prince, 
 and offered to give him large sums if he would 
 deliver up the citadel of Corinth, where he had 
 an Achaean garrison. He answered that affairs 
 did not then depend upon him, but he must be 
 governed by their circumstances. So Aratus 
 himself writes. 
 
 Cleomenes, in his march from Argos, added 
 the Troezenians, the Epidaurians, and Hermio- 
 nians, to the number of his friends and allies, and 
 then went to Corinth, and drew a line of circum- 
 vallation about the citadel, which the Achaeans 
 refused to surrender. However, he sent for the 
 friends and stewards of Aratus, and ordered them 
 to take care of his house and effects in that. city. 
 He likewise sent again to that general by Trity- 
 mallus, the Messenian, and proposed that the 
 citadel should be garrisoned half with Achaeans 
 and half with Lacedaemonians ; offering, at the 
 same time, to double the pension he had from 
 Ptolemy, king of Egypt. As Aratus, instead 
 of accepting these conditions, sent his son and 
 other hostages to Antigonus, and persuaded the 
 
 * Towns between Argos and Corinth. 
 
 Achaeans to give orders that the citadel of Corinth 
 should be put into the hands of that prince, 
 Cleomenes immediately ravaged the territories 
 of Sicyon, and in pursuance of a decree of the 
 Corinthians, seized on the whole estate of Aratus. 
 After Antigonus had passed Gerania* with a 
 great army, Cleomenes thought it more advisable 
 to fortify the Onaean mountains f than the Isth- 
 mus, and by the advantage of his post to tire out 
 the Macedonians, rather than hazard a pitched 
 battle with a veteran phalanx. Antigonus was 
 greatly perplexed at this plan of operations. For 
 he had neither laid in a sufficient quantity of 
 provisions, nor could he easily force the pass by 
 which Cleomenes had sat down. He attempted 
 one night, indeed, to get into Peloponnesus by 
 the port of Lachseum,J but was repulsed with 
 loss. 
 
 Cleomenes was much encouraged with this 
 success, and his troops went to their evening’s 
 refreshments with pleasure. _ Antigonus, on the 
 other hand, was extremely dispirited ; for he saw 
 himself in so troublesome a situation that it was 
 scarcely possible to find any resources which 
 were not extremely difficult. At last he deter- 
 mined to move to the promontory of Heraeum, 
 and from thence to transport his troops in boats 
 to Sicyon ; but that required a great deal of time 
 and very considerable preparations. However, 
 the evening after, some of the friends of Aratus 
 arrived from Argos by sea, being sent to acquaint 
 him that the Argives were revolting from Cleo- 
 menes, and purposed to invite him to that city. 
 Aristotle was the author of the defection ; and 
 he had found no great difficulty in persuading 
 the people into it, because Cleomenes had not 
 cancelled their debts, as he had given them room 
 to hope. Upon this Aratus, with 1500 men 
 whom he had from Antigonus, sailed to Epi- 
 daurus. But Aristotle, not waiting for him, 
 assembled the townsmen, and with the assistance 
 of Timoxenus and a party of Achaeans from 
 Sicyon, attacked the citadel. 
 
 Cleomenes getting intelligence of this about 
 the second watch of the night, sent for Megis- 
 tonus, and, in an angry tone, ordered him to 
 the relief of Argos : for it was he who had 
 principally undertaken for the obedience of the 
 Argives, and, by that means, prevented the 
 expulsion of such as were suspected. Having 
 despatched Megistonus upon this business, the 
 Spartan prince watched the motions of Antigonus, 
 and endeavoured to dispel the fears of the Corin- 
 thians, assuring them it was no great thing that 
 had happened at Argos, but only an inconsider- 
 able tumult. Megistonus got into Argos, and 
 was slain in a skirmish there ; the garrison were 
 hard pressed, and messenger after messenger 
 sent to ■ Cleomenes. Upon this he was airaid 
 that the enemy, after they had made themselves 
 masters of Argos, would block up the passages 
 against him, and then go and ravage Laconia 
 at their pleasure, and besiege Sparta itseli, wnicn 
 was left without defence. He therefore decamped 
 from Corinth, the consequence of which was the 
 loss of that town; for Antigonus immediately 
 
 A mountain between Megara and Corinth. 
 
 t This range of mountains extends from the 
 Scironian rocks, on the road to Attica, as far 
 as mount Citheron. Strab. 1 . _vii. 
 
 X One of the harbours at Corinth. 
 
CLEOMENES, 559 
 
 entered it, and placed a garrison there. ^ In the 
 mean time Cleomenes, having collected his forces 
 which were scattered in their march, attempted 
 to scale the walls of Argos ; but failing in that 
 enterprise, he broke open the vaults under the 
 quarter called Aspis, gained an entrance that 
 way, and joined his garrison, which still held out 
 against the Achaeans. After this he took some 
 other quarters of the city by assault ; and ordering 
 the Cretan archers to ply their bows, cleared the 
 streets of the enemy. But when he saw Anti- 
 gonus descending with his infantry from the 
 heights into the plain, and his cavalry already 
 pouring into the city, he thought it impossible to 
 maintain his post. He had now no other resource 
 but to collect all his men, and retire along the 
 walls, which he accordingly did without loss. 
 Thus, after achieving the greatest things in a 
 short space of time, and making himself master 
 of almost all Peloponnesus in one campaign, he 
 lost all in less time than he gained it ; some 
 cities immediately withdrawing from his alliance, 
 and others surrendering themselves not long after 
 to Antigonus. 
 
 Such was the ill success of this expedition. 
 And what was no less a misfortune, as he was 
 marching home messengers from Lacedaemon met 
 him in the evening near Tegea, and informed 
 him of the death of his wife. His affection and 
 esteem for Agiatis was so great, that amidst the 
 current of his happiest success, he could not stay 
 from her a whole campaign, but often repaired to 
 Sparta. No wonder, then, that a young man, 
 deprived of so beautiful and virtuous a wife, was 
 extremely affected with her loss. Yet his sorrow 
 did not debase the dignity of his mind. He 
 spoke in the same accent ; he preserved the same 
 dress and look ; he gave his orders to his officers, 
 and provided for the security of Tegea. 
 
 Next morning he entered Lacedaemon ; and after 
 paying a proper tribute to grief at home with 
 his mother and his children, he applied himself 
 to the concerns of state. Ptolemy, king of Egypt, 
 agreed to furnish him with succours ; but it 
 was on condition that he sent him his mother 
 and children as hostages. This circumstance 
 he knew not how to communicate to his mother ; 
 and he often attempted to mention it to her, but 
 could not go forward. She began to suspect that 
 there was something which he was afraid to open 
 to her, and she asked his friends what it might 
 be. At last he ventured to tell her ; upon which 
 £;ie laughed very pleasantly, and said, “Was 
 this the thing which you have so long hesitated 
 to express? Why do not you immediately put 
 us on board a ship, and send this carcase of mine 
 where you think it may be of most use to Sparta, 
 before age renders it good for nothing, and sinks 
 it into the grave ?” 
 
 When everything was prepared for the voyage, 
 they went by land to Taenarus ; the army con- 
 ducting them to that port. Cratesiclea being on 
 the point of taking ship, took Cleomenes alone 
 into the temple of Neptune, where, seeing him 
 in great emotion and concern, she threw her arms 
 about him, and said, “ King of Sparta, take care 
 that, when we go out, no one perceive us weeping, 
 or doing anything unworthy that glorious place. 
 This alone is in our power ; the event is in the 
 hands of God.” After she had given him this 
 advice, and composed her countenance, she went 
 on board, with her little grandson in her arms. 
 
 and ordered the pilot to put to sea as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 Upon her arrival in Egypt, she understood that 
 Ptolemy had received ambassadors from Anti- 
 gonus, and seemed to listen to his proposals ; 
 and, on the other hand, she was informed that 
 Cleomenes, though invited by the Achaeans to a 
 pacification, was afraid, on her account, to put 
 an end to the war, without Ptolemy’s consent. In 
 this difficulty she wrote to her son, to desire him 
 to do what he thought most advantageous and 
 honourable for Sparta, and not, for the sake of an 
 old woman and a child, to live always in fear 
 of Ptolemy. So great was the behaviour of 
 Cratesiclea under adverse fortune. 
 
 After Antigonus had taken Tegea, and plun- 
 dered Orchomanus and Mantinea, Cleomenes, 
 now shut up within the bounds of Laconia, 
 enfranchised such of the helots as could pay five 
 Attic mi 7 ice for their liberty. By this expedient 
 he raised fifty talents ; and having, moreover, 
 armed and trained in the Macedonian manner, 
 2000 of those helots, whom he designed to 
 oppose to the Leucasfides of Antigonus, he 
 engaged in a great and unexpected enterprise. 
 Megalopolis was at that time as great and 
 powerful a city as Sparta. It was supported, 
 besides, by the Achaeans and Antigonus, whose 
 troops lay on each side of it. Indeed, the 
 Megalopolitans were the foremost and most eager 
 of all the Achaeans in their application to Anti- 
 gonus. This city, however, Cleomenes resolved 
 to surprise ; for which purpose he ordered his 
 men to take five days’ provisions, and led them to 
 Sellasia, as if he designed an inroad into the 
 territories of Argos. But he turned short, and 
 entered those of Megalopolis ; and after having 
 refreshed his troops at Rhoetium, he marched, 
 by Helicon,* directly to the object he had 
 in view. When he was near it, he sent Panteus 
 before with two companies of Lacedaemonians, 
 to seize that part of the wall which was 
 between the two towers, and which he under- 
 stood to be the least guarded. He followed with 
 the rest of his army at the common pace. Pan- 
 teus, finding not only that quarter but great part 
 of the wall without defence, pulled it down in 
 some places, undermined it in others, and put all 
 the sentinels to the sword. While he was thus 
 employed, Cleomenes came up and entered the 
 city with his forces, before the Magalopolitans 
 knew of his approach. 
 
 They were no sooner apprized of the misfor- 
 tune which had befallen them, than the greatest 
 part left the city, taking their money and most 
 valuable effects with them. The rest made a 
 stand, and though they could not dislodge the 
 enemy, yet their resistance gave their fellow- 
 citizens opportunity to escape. There remained 
 not above 1000 men in the town, all the rest 
 having retired to Messene, with their wives and 
 children, before there was any possibility of 
 pursuing them. A considerable part even of 
 those who had armed and fought in defence 
 of the city got off, and very few were taken 
 prisoners. ^ Of this number were Lysandridas 
 and Thearidas, two persons of great name and 
 authority in Megalopolis. As they were such 
 respectable men, the soldiers carried them before 
 
 * Lubinus thinks it ought to read Helisson, 
 there being no such place as Helicon in Arcadia. 
 
36 o PLUTARCWS lives. 
 
 Cleomenes. Lysandridas no sooner saw Cleo- 
 menes, than he thus addressed him : “Now, 
 
 said he in a loud voice, because it was at a 
 distance, “now, king of Sparta, you have an 
 opportunity to do an action much more glorious 
 and princely than the late one, and to acquire im- 
 mortal honour.” Cleomenes, guessing at his aim, 
 made answer, “You would not have me restop 
 you the town?” “ That is the very thing,” said 
 Lysandridas, “ I would propose : I advise you, 
 by all means, not to destroy so fine a city, but to 
 fill it with firm friends and faithful^ allies, by 
 restoring the Megalopolitans to their country, 
 and becoming the saviour of so considerable a 
 people.” Cleomenes paused awhile, and then 
 replied, “ This is hard to believe ; but be it as it 
 will, let glory with us have always greater 
 weight than interest.” In consequence of this 
 determination, he sent the two men to Messene, 
 with a herald in his own name, to make the 
 Megalopolitans an offer of their town, on condi- 
 tion that they would renounce the Achseans, 
 and declare themselves his friends and allies. 
 
 Though Cleomenes made so gracious and 
 humane a proposal, Philopoemen would not suffer 
 the Megalopolitans to accept it, or to quit the 
 Achsean league,* but assuring them that the king 
 of Sparta, instead of inclining to restop them 
 their city, wanted to get the citizens too into his 
 power, he forced Thearidas and Lysandridas to 
 leave Messene. This is that Philopoemen who 
 afterwards was the leading man among the 
 Achseans, and (as we have related in his life) one 
 of the most illustrious personages among the 
 Greeks. 
 
 Upon this news, Cleomenes, who hitherto had 
 kept the houses and goods of the Megalopolitans 
 with such care that not the least thing was 
 embezzled, was enraged to such a degree that he 
 plundered the whole, sent the statues and pic- 
 tures to Sparta, and levelled the greatest and 
 best parts of the city with the ground. After 
 this he marched home again, being under some 
 apprehensions that Antigonus and the Achseans 
 would come upon him. They, however, made no 
 motion towards it, for they were then holding a 
 council at Aigium. Aratus mounted the rostrum 
 on that occasion, where he wept a long time, 
 with his robe before his face. ^ They were all 
 greatly surprised, and desired him to speak. At 
 last he said, “Megalopolis is destroyed by 
 Cleomenes.” The Achseans were astonished^ at 
 so great and sudden a stroke, and the council im- 
 mediately broke up. Antigonus made great 
 efforts to go to the relief of the place ; but, as his 
 troops assembled slowly from their winter quarters, 
 he ordered them to remain where they were, and 
 marched to Argos with the forces he had with 
 him. . 
 
 This made the second enterprise of Cleomenes 
 appear rash and desperate : but Polybius,! on 
 the contrary, informs us, that it was conducted 
 with great prudence and foresight. For knowing 
 (as he tells us) that the Macedonians were dis- 
 persed in winter quarters, and that Antigonus lay 
 in Argos with only his friends and a few mer- 
 cenaries about him, he entered the territories of 
 that city ; in the persuasion that either the shame 
 
 * Polybius bestows great and just encomiums 
 on this conduct of the Megalopolitans. Lib. xi. 
 
 t Polybius, lib. xi. 
 
 of suffering such an inroad would provoke Anti- 
 gonus to battle, and expose him to a defeat, or 
 that if he declined the combat, it would bring 
 him into disrepute with the Argives. The event 
 justified his expectation. When the people of 
 Argos saw their country laid waste, everything 
 that was valuable destroyed or carried off, they ran 
 in great displeasure to the king’s gates, and be- 
 sieged them with clamour, bidding him either go 
 out and fight, or else give place to his superiors. 
 Antigonus, however, like a wise and able general, 
 thought the censures of strangers mo disgrace, in 
 comparison of his quitting a place of security, 
 and rashly hazarding a__ battle, and therefore he 
 abode by his first resolutions. Cleomenes, in the 
 mean time, marched up to the very walls, in- 
 sulted his enemies, and, before he retired, spread 
 desolation at his pleasure. 
 
 Soon after his return, he was informed that 
 Antigonus was come to Tegea, with a design to 
 enter Laconia on that side. Upon this emer- 
 gency, he put his troops under march another 
 way, and appeared again before Argos by break 
 of day, ravaging all the adjacent fields. He did 
 not now cut down the corn with scythes and 
 sickles, as people usually do, but beat it down 
 with wooden instruments in the form of scimi- 
 tars, as if this destruction was only an amuse- 
 ment to his soldiers in their march. Yet when 
 they would have set fire to Cyllarabis, the school 
 of exercise, he prevented it ; reflecting that the 
 ruin of Megalopolis was dictated rather by pas- 
 sion than by reason. 
 
 Antigonus immediately returned to Argos, 
 having taken care to place guards in all the 
 passes of the mountains. But Cleomenes, as if 
 he held him and his operations in the utmost 
 contempt^ sent heralds to demand the keys of 
 Juno’s temple, that he might sacrifice to the 
 goddess. After he had pleased himself with this 
 insult on his enemy, and offered his sacrifice 
 under the walls of the temple, which was fast 
 shut up, he led his troops off to Phlius. In his 
 march from thence he dislodged the garrison of 
 Ologuntum, and then proceeded by Orchomenus ; 
 by which means he not only inspired this people 
 with fresh courage, but came to be considered 
 by the enemy as a most able general, and a man 
 capable of the greatest undertakings ; for, with 
 the strength of the single city to oppose the 
 whole power of the Macedonians and Pelopon- 
 nesians, and all the treasures of the king ; and 
 not only to keep Laconia untouched, but to carry 
 devastation into the enemy’s country, were indi- 
 cations of no common genius and spirit. 
 
 • He who first called money the sinews of busi- 
 ness seems principally to have had respect to that 
 of war. And Demades, when the Athenians 
 called upon him to equip their navy and get it 
 out, though their treasury was very low, told 
 them they must think of baking bread, before 
 they thought of an embarkation. It is also said 
 that the old Archidamus, at the beginning of the 
 Peloponnesian war, when the allies desired that 
 the quota of each should be determined, made 
 answer, that war cannot be kept at a set diet. 
 And in this case Ve may justly say, that as 
 wrestlers, strengthened by long exercise, do at 
 last tire out th^ose who have equal skill and 
 agility, but not the exercise ; so Antigonus 
 coming to the war with vast funds, in process 
 of time tired out and overcame Cleomenes, who 
 
1 CLEOMENES. -51 
 
 could but in a very slender manner pay his mer 
 cenaries, and give his Spartans bread. 
 
 In all other respects the times favoured Cleo 
 menes, Antigonus being drawn home by the bad 
 posture of ^ his affairs : for in his absence the 
 barbarians invaded and ravaged all Macedonia. 
 The Illyrians in particular, descending with a 
 great army from the north, harassed the Mace- 
 donians so much that they were forced to send 
 for Antigonus. Had the letters been brought a 
 little before the battle, that general would have 
 immediately departed, and bidden the Achseans 
 a long farewell. But fortune, who loves to make 
 the greatest affairs turn upon some minute cir- 
 cumstance, showed on this occasion of what con- 
 sequence a moment of time may be.* As soon 
 as the battle of Sallasia f was fought, and Cleo- 
 menes had lost his army and his city, messengers 
 came to call Antigonus home. This was a great 
 ^gravation of the Spartan king’s misfortunes. 
 Had he held off and avoided an action only a 
 day or two longer, he would have been under no 
 necessity of fighting ; and after the Macedonians 
 were gone, he imght have made peace with the 
 Achaeans on what conditions he pleased. But 
 such, as we said, was his want of money, that he 
 had no resource but the sword : and, therefore, 
 f*olybiu5 informs us, "with 20,000 men was 
 forced to challenge 30,000. 
 
 He showed himself an excellent general in the 
 whole course of the action ; his Spartans behaved 
 ^nth g-eat spirit, and his mercenaries fought not 
 ill. His defeat was owing to the superior ad- 
 vantage the IMacedonians had in their armour, 
 and to the weight and impetuosity of their 
 
 phala 7 tx. 
 
 Phylarchus, indeed, assures us, it was the 
 treachery of one of his officers that ruined the 
 of Cleomenes. Antigonus had ordered 
 the Illyrians and Acarnanians secretly to fetch 
 a compass, and surround that wing which was 
 commanded by Euclidas, the brother of Cleo- 
 menes, while he was marshalling the rest of his 
 arm3^ Cleomenes taking a view from an emi- 
 nence of his adv’ersary’s disposition, could not 
 perceive where the Ill5'rians and Acarnanians 
 w ere posted, and began to fear they were de- 
 some such manoeuvre. He therefore 
 called Danaotecles, v/hose business it was to 
 guard against any surprise, and ordered him to 
 reconnoitre the enemy’s rear wnth particular care, 
 and form the best conjecture he could of the 
 movements they intended. Damotecles, who is 
 said to be bnbed by Antigonus, assured him that 
 he had nothing to fear from that quarter, for all 
 was safe in the rear ; nor was there anytffing 
 more to be done but to bear down upon the 
 
 - front Cleomenes, satisfied with this report, 
 attacked Antigonus. The Spartans charged with 
 
 ■ ^ much vigour, that they made the Macedonian 
 pf^lafix give ground, and eagerly pursued their 
 
 1 advantage for about five furlongs. The kin? 
 
 then seeing Euclidas in the other wing quite 
 . surrounded, stopped, and cried out, “ Thou art 
 
 ■ lost, my dear brother, thou art lost! in spite of 
 ail thy valour ! but great is thy example to our 
 Spartan youth, and the songs of our matrons 
 shall for ever record thee ! ” * 
 
 Eaclidas, and the wing he commanded, thus 
 being slam, the victors fell upon Cleomenes 
 Who seeing his men in great confusion, and 
 unable to maintain the fight, provided as well as 
 he could for his own safety. It is said that great 
 numbers of the mercenaries were killed ; and 
 that of 6000 Lacedemonians no more than 200 
 were saved. 
 
 When he reached Sparta he advised the citizens 
 to receive Antigonus. “ For my part,” said he. 
 
 1 am willing either to live or to die, as the one 
 or the other may be most for the interest of my 
 country. Seeing the v/omen run to meet the 
 lew brave mp v>-ho had escaped with him, help 
 to take off their armour, and present them vdth 
 wine he retired into his own house. After the 
 death of his mfe, he had taken into his house a 
 young woman who was a native of Megalopolis 
 and freeborn, but fell into his hands at the sack 
 of the place. She approached him, according 
 to custom, with a tender of her services on his 
 return from the field. But though both thirsty 
 and weary, he would neither drink nor sit down • 
 he only leaned his elbow against a pillar, and his 
 head upon it, armed as he was ; and havin'?- 
 rested a few moments, while he considered wha°t 
 course to mke, he repaired to Gythium with his 
 friends. There they went on board vessels pro- 
 purpose, and immediately put out 
 
 Upon the arrival of Antigonus, Sparta sur- 
 rendered. ^ His behaviour to the inhabitants w?s 
 mild and numane, and not unsuitable to the 
 digmty of then republic ; for he offered them no 
 kind of insult, but restored to them their laws and 
 polity ; and after having sacrificed to the gods 
 retired the third day. He was informed, indeed* 
 that^ alacedonia. was involved in a dangerous 
 war ; and that the barbarians were ravaging the 
 countr3\ Besides, he was in a deep consump- 
 tion, and had a continual defluxion upon the 
 lungs. However, he bore up under his affliction 
 and wrestled with domestic wars, until a great 
 victory over, and carnage of, the barbarians 
 made him die more glorious. Phylarchus tells 
 us (and it is not at all improbable) that he burst 
 a vessel in his lungs with shouting in the battle : 
 though it passed in the schools, that in express- 
 ing his joy after the victory, and crjdng out, “ O 
 g;lonous day !” he brought up a great quantity 
 of blood, and fell into a fever, of which he died. 
 Ihus much concerning Antigonus. 
 
 From the isle of Cythea, where Cleomenes 
 tnst touched, he sailed to another island called 
 (Egialia. There he had formed a design to pass 
 
 + reflection from Polybius, 
 
 t Polybius has given a particular account of : 
 this battj^ Antigonus had 28,000 foot, and 1200 
 horse. The army of Cleomenes consisted onh" I 
 m 20,000; but it was advantageously posted. ' 
 xle was encamped on two mountains, which were 
 almost inaccessible, and separated only bv a i 
 narrow defile. These he had fortified with . 
 strong ramparts and a deep fosse ; so that Anti- 
 gonus, after reconnoitring his situation, did not 
 think proper to attack hun, but encamped at a ' 
 small distance on the plain. At length, for want ^ 
 of money and provisions, Cleomenes was forced i 
 to come to action, and was beaten. Pol. lib. xi. 1 
 
 1 ® ^ soldier, but not a 
 
 skilful officer. Instead of pouring upon the 
 memy from the heights, and retiring as he found 
 t convenient, he stood still, and suffered the 
 Macedonians to cut off his retreat. 
 
 2 O 
 
562 
 
 PLUTARCirS LIVES, 
 
 over to Cyrene, when one of his friends, named 
 Therycion, a man of high and intrepid spirit on 
 all occasions, and one who always indulged him- 
 self in a lofty and haughty turn of expression 
 came privately to Cleomenes, and thus addressed 
 him: “We have lost, my prince, the most 
 
 glorious death, which we ^^ight have foun^ 
 the battle ; though the world ^ad heard u 
 
 boast that Antigonus should never ^oi^uer t 
 
 king of Sparta till he had slam him. Yet there 
 Ts another exit still offered us by glory and virUie^ 
 Whither then are we so absurdly sailin^ . ^ ^y^ 
 a death that is near, and seeking one that is 
 remote If it is not dishonourable for the de- 
 scendants of Hercules to serve the successors of 
 Philip and Alexander, why do not we save our- 
 selves a long voyage, by making our submission 
 to Antigonus, who, in all probability, much 
 excels Ptolemy as the Macedonians do the 
 Egyptians? But if we do not <*00^0 to b. 
 governed by a man who beat us in the field, why 
 do we take one who never conquered us, for our 
 master? Is it that we may show our JP^enority 
 to two, instead of one, by flying before Ant - 
 gonus, and then going to flatter Ptolemy ? Shall 
 we say that you go into Egypt for /ake of 
 your mother? It will be a glorious^ and happy 
 thing truly for her to show Ptolemy s wives her 
 son, of a king become a captive and an exile. 
 No ! while w^e are yet masters of our swords, 
 and are yet in sight of Laconia, let us deliver 
 ourselves from this miserable^ fortune, and make 
 our excuse for our past behaviour to ^ose brave 
 men who fell for Sparta at Sellasia._ Or shall we 
 rather sit down in Egypt, and inquire whom 
 Antigonus has left governor of Lacedsemon . 
 
 'I'hus Therycion spoke, and Cleomenes made 
 this answer: “Dost thou think, then, wretch 
 that thou art ! dost thou think, by running into 
 the arms of death, than which nothing is "mie 
 easy to find, to show thy courage and fortitude 
 And dost thou not consider that this flight is 
 more dastardly than the former? Better men 
 than we have given way to their enemies, being 
 either overset by fortune, or oppressed by num- 
 bers. But he who gives out either for fear of 
 labour and pain, or of the opinions and tongues 
 of men, falls a victim to his own cowardice. A 
 voluntary death ought to be an action, not a 
 retreat from action. For it is an ungeneious 
 thing either to live or to die to ourselves. All 
 that thy expedient could possibly do would _ e 
 only the extricating us from our present mis- 
 fortunes, without answering any purpose euher 
 of honoir or utility. But I thmk neither thou 
 nor I ought to give up all hopes for our country. 
 If those hopes should desert us, when we 
 
 seek for him, will not be hard to find. Th^- 
 rycion made no reply ; but the first 
 he had to leave Cleomenes, he walked down to 
 the shore and stabbed himself. 
 
 Cleomenes left .^gialia, and sailed to Africa 
 where he was received by the king s officers, and 
 conducted to Alexandria. Whpn he was first 
 introduced to Ptolemy,^ that prince behaved to 
 him with sufficient kindness and humanity , but 
 when, upon farther trial of him, he fo^^d what 
 strength of understanding he had, and that his 
 lacomc and simple way of conversing was mixed 
 with a vein of wit and pleasantry ; when he saw 
 
 that he did not, in any instance whatever, dis- 
 honour his royal birth, or crouch to fortune, he 
 began to take more pleasure in his discourse than 
 in the mean sacrifices of complaisance and 
 flattery. He greatly repented, too, and blushed 
 at the thought of having neglected such a man, 
 and given him up to Antigonus, who, by con- 
 quering him, had acquired so much power and 
 glory. He, therefore, encouraged him now with 
 every mark of attention and respect, and promised 
 to send him back to Greece with a fleet and a 
 supply of money, to re-establish him in his king- 
 dom. His present appointments amounted to 
 four and twenty talents by the year. Out of this 
 he maintained himself and his friends in a sober 
 and frugal manner, and bestowed the rest in 
 offices of humanity to such Greeks as had left 
 their country and retired into Egypt. 
 
 But old Ptolemy died before he could put his 
 intentions in favour of Cleomenes into executicm , 
 and the court soon becoming a scene of de- 
 bauchery, where women had the sw:^, the 
 business of Cleomenes was neglected, for the 
 king * was so much corrupted with _wine and 
 women, that in his more sober and serious hours 
 he would attend to nothing but the celebration 
 of mysteries, and the beating a drum with his 
 royal hands about the palace ; while the great 
 affairs of state were left to his mistress Agathoclea, 
 and her mother, and Oenanthes the infamous 
 minister to his pleasures. It appears, however, 
 that at first some use was made of Cleomenes : 
 for Ptolemy, being afraid of his brother Magas, 
 who, through his mother’s interest, stood well 
 with the army, admitted Cleomenes to a com 
 saltation in his cabinet : the subject of which 
 was, whether he should destroy his brother. All 
 the rest voted for it, but Cleomenes opposed it 
 stronc^ly. He said, “ the king, if it were possible, 
 should have more brothers, for the greater 
 security of the crown, and the better manage- 
 ment of affairs.” And when Sosibius, the king s 
 principal favourite, replied, that the mercenanes 
 rould not be depended on while Magas was alive, 
 Cleomenes desired them to give themselves no 
 pain about that: “for,” said he, above 3000 
 of the mercenaries are Peloponnesians, who, upon 
 a nod from me, will be ready with their arms. 
 Hence, Ptolemy, for the present, looked upon 
 Cleomenes not only as a fast friend, but a man of 
 power ; but his weakness afterwards increasing 
 his timidity, as is common with people of little 
 understanding, he began to place his security in 
 jealousy and suspicion. His ministers were of 
 the same stamp, and they considered Cleomenes 
 as an object of tear, on account of his interest 
 with the mercenaries ; insomuch that many were 
 heard to say, that he was a lion among a flock ot 
 sheep. Such, indeed, he seemed to be in court, 
 where, with a silent severity of aspect, he observed 
 all that passed , 
 
 In these circumstances, he made no more appffi 
 cations for ships or troops But being ^formed 
 that Antigonus was dead ; that the ^chasans 
 were engaged in war with the iEtolians , and 
 that affairs called strongly for his presence, in the 
 troubles and distractions that then reigned in 
 Peloponnesus, he desired only a conveyance 
 thither for himself and his friends. Yet no man 
 listened to him. The king, who spent his time 
 
 ^ Ptolemy Eurgetes. 
 
 * Ptolemy Philopater. 
 
CLEOMENES, 
 
 563 
 
 m all kinds of bacchanalian revels with women, in this distress, desired the son of Chrysermus to 
 could not possibly hear him. Sosibius, the prime | come and speak to him. He came and talked to 
 minister, thought Cleomenes must prove a ! him plausibly enough, endeavouring to dispel his 
 formidable and dangerous man, if he were kept | suspicions and to apologise for the king. But as 
 in Egypt against his will ; and that it v/as not he was going out of the apartment, without 
 safe to ^miss him, because of his bold and 1 observing that Cleomenes followed him to the 
 enterprising spirit ; ^d because he had been an ' door, he gave the keepers a severe reprimand, 
 eye-witness to the distempered state of the king- | for looking so carelessly after “a wild beast, who| 
 dom : for it wp not in the power of money to ' if he escaped, in all probability could be taken no 
 mollify him. As the ox Apis, though revelling, more.” Cleomenes ha\hng heard this, retired 
 to ^ appearance, in every delight that he can ; before Ptolemy perceived him, and acquainted 
 desire, yet longs after the liberty which nature j his friends with it. Upon this, they ail dismisbcd 
 gave him, wants to bound over the fields and ■ their former hopes, and, taking the measures 
 pastures at his pleasure, and discovers a manifest ] which anger dictated, they resolved to revenge 
 uneasiness under the hands of the priest who 1 themselves of Ptolemy's injurious and insolent 
 feeds him ; so Cleomenes could not be satisfied ; behaviour, and then die as became Spartans, 
 with a soft and efieminate life ; but, like Achilles — j instead of waiting long for their doom in confine- 
 Consuming cares lay heavy on his mind : ment, like victims fatted for tne altar. F or they 
 
 In his black thoughts revenge and slaughter roll, I it an insufferable thing that Cleomen^, 
 
 And scenes of blood rise dreadful in his soul had disdamed to come to terms with 
 
 Pope Antigonus, a brave warrior, and a man of action, 
 
 . , /I should sit expecting his fate from a prince who 
 
 VV hi.e his affairs were in this posture, Nica- ] assumed the character of a priest of Cybele ; and 
 goras the ^lessenian, a man who concealed the who, after he had laid aside His drum, and was 
 most rancorous hatred of Cleomenes under the tired of his dance, would find another kind of 
 pretence of friendship, came to Alexandria. It sport in putting him to death, 
 seems he had formerly sold him a handsome piece • After they had taken their resolution, Ptolemy 
 of ground, ^d the king, either through want of \ happening to go to Canopus, they propagated a 
 money or his c ntmual engagement in war, had report, tlmt, by the king’s order, Cleomenes was 
 neglected to pay him for it. Cleomenes, who to be released ; and as it was the custom of the 
 ^ppened to be walking upon the quay, saw this j kings of Eg^qit to send those to whom they 
 rsicagoras just lading from a merchantman, and, i designed to extend such grace a supper, and other 
 fluting hhii with great kindness, asked what tokens of fiiendship, the friends of Cleomenes 
 busmess had brought him to Egypt. Nicagoras i made ample provision for the purpose, and sent it 
 returned the compliment with equal appearance to the gate. By this stratagem the keepers were 
 of friendship, and answered : “I am bringing | deceived ; for they imagined tbai- the whole was 
 ^me fine war-horses for the king. ^ Cleomenes i sent by the king. Cleomenes then offered sacrifice 
 laughed, and said, “ I could rather have wished • with a chaplet of flowers on head, and after- 
 that j'ou had brought him some female musicians wards sat down with his friends to the banquet, 
 and pathics ; for those are the cattle that the ^ng ' taking care that the keepers should have large 
 at present hkes best.” Nicagoras, at that time, proportions to regale them. It is said, that he 
 only smiled ; but a few days after he put Cleomenes set about his enterprise sooner than lie intended 
 m mind of the field he had sold him, and desired ; because he found that one of his servants who 
 he might now be paid ; pretending that he would : was in the secret had been out ail night with 
 not ^ve given him an}^ trouble about it if he had ' his mistress. Fearing, therefore, that a discovery 
 not found considerable loss in the disposal of his might be made about mid-day, while the intoxi- 
 merchandise. Cleomenes assiued him, that he cation of the preceding night still kept the guards 
 had nothing left of wlmt the kings of Egypt had fast asleep he put on his militar y tunic, having 
 given him; upon which Nicagoras, in his dis- 1 first opened the seam of the left shoulder, and I 
 appoinitaent, acquainted Sosibius with the joke ! rushed out, sword in hand, accompanied by his 
 up<m the kmg. Sosibius received the information ‘ friends, who were thirteen in number, and ac- 
 with pleasure ; but, being desirous to have some- 1 coutred in the same manner. * : 
 
 gang against Cleomenes that would exasperate | One of them, named Hippotas, though lame at i 
 Ftolemy still more, he persuaded Nicagoras to ! first was enabled, by the spirit of the enterprise ; 
 le^-e a letter, asserting that, if the Spartan prince : to keep pace wdth them; but afterwards per- 
 imd^ received a s upply of ships and men from , ceiving that they went slower on his account, he I 
 tne of Egypt s boMty, he woifld have made j desired them to kill him, and not ruin the whole j 
 use 01 them m seizing Cj^ene for himself. Nica- scheme by waiting for a man who could do them 
 goras accordmgly left the letter, and set sail. i no service. By good fortune they found an Alex- ! 
 rour daj-s after, Sosibuis carried it to Ptolemy, | ^drian leading a horse in the street ; they took * 
 ^ ; and having worked ! it and set Hippotas upon it, and t^n moved 1 
 
 up th^ young prince to revenge, it was resolved swiftly through the streets, aU the way inviting 
 that Cleomenes should have a large apartment , the people to libertj^ They had just spirit 
 assigned ^m, and be sensed there as formerly, j enough left to praise and a dmir e the bold attempt 
 
 of Cleomenes, but not a man of them ventured to ! 
 
 1 Jus was a great affliction to Cleomenes ; and 1 follow or assist him. 
 
 accident made his prospects still | Ptolemy, the son of Cnrvsermus, happening to ! 
 more nuserable. Ptolemy, the son of Chjysermus, come out of the palace, three of them fhll uoon 
 mtimate friend of the kings, had all t him, and despatched him. Another PtoIem\' 
 to Cleomenes wirii great civihty ; j who was governor of the city, advanced to meet 
 they seemed to like each other s company, and I them in his chariot : they attacked and dispersed 
 were upon some terms of confidence. Cleomenes, his officers and guards; and, dragging hm out 
 
5^4 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 of the chariot, put him to the sword. 
 
 marched to the citadel, with a design to break 
 
 open the prison and join the prisoners, who were 
 
 no small dumber, to their party ; but the 
 
 had prevented them by strongly 
 
 the ga^tes. Cleomenes, thus disappointed again, 
 
 roamed up and down the city ; and he found ^t 
 
 not a single man would join him, but that al 
 
 avoided him as they would avoid infection. _ 
 
 He therefore stopped, and said to 
 «‘It is no wonder that women govern a People 
 who fly from liberty adding that he hoped 
 they would all die in a manner that would l eflect 
 no dishonour upon him, or on their own achieve- 
 merns Hippotas desired one ^ of the younger 
 men to despatch him, and was tne first that fell. 
 Afterwards each of them, without fear or 
 fell upon his own sword, except Panteus, ^ho 
 was the first man that scaled the walls ^Megalo- 
 polis when it was taken by surpnse. He was m 
 the flower of his age ; remarkable for his beauty, 
 Lnd of a happier turn than the rest of the yomh 
 for the Spartan discipline, which ^ 
 
 siven him a great share in the king s regard , 
 Uid he now gave him orders not to despatch him- 
 St till L siw his prin« and all the rest brea h- 
 less on the ground. Panteus tried one after 
 
 ‘rrhTSce" ‘t!e'Ther^?o?e“ 
 
 ^^Thus°fdl Cleomenes, after he 
 vears king of Sparta, and showed himself m all 
 Respects tL great man. When the report of his 
 death had spread over the city, Cratesiclea, 
 thouc^h a woman of superior fortitude, sunk 
 iS the weight of the calamity ; she embraced 
 the children of Cleomenes, and wept over them. 
 The eldest of them, disengaging 
 arms, got unsuspected to the top of t^® ^ 
 
 and tfeew himself down headlong. The- child 
 was not killed, but much hurt ; and when they 
 took him up, he loudly expressed his grief and 
 indigLion that they would not suffer him to 
 
 ‘*ttolemy”was no sooner informed of these 
 things than he ordered the body of Cleomenes to 
 be flayed, and nailed to a cross, and his children 
 to be put to death, together with his mother, and 
 ‘.he Xen her compalttons. Amongst th™ 
 the wife of Panteus, a woman °f “0“^ 
 
 t^ok them a^^^^ first . transports of love. 
 
 When her husband went with Cleomenes fr^ 
 Soarta she was desirous of accompanying him , 
 but was prevented by her parents, who kept her 
 in close custody. But soon after she provided 
 
 herself a horse and a little ^^io^T^na^ 
 
 her escape by night, rode at full speed to Tsen 
 
 rus and there embarked on board a ship bound 
 for Egypt. She was brought safe to Panteus, 
 and she cheerfully shared with hirn m ali ‘i^he 
 inconveniences they found in a foreign counc'^. 
 When the soldiers came to take out Cratesiclea 
 to execution, she led her by the hand, assisting 
 in bearing her robe, and desired her to exert all 
 the courage she was mistress of ; though she was 
 far from being afraid of death, and desired no 
 other favour than that she might die before her 
 children. But when they came to the place of 
 execution, the children suffered before her eyes, 
 and then Cratesiclea was despatched, who, in 
 this extreme distress, uttered only these words, 
 
 ‘ O ! my children ! whither are you gone ? 
 
 The wife of Panteus, who was tall and strong, 
 girt her robe about her, and, in a silent and com- 
 posed manner, paid the last offices to each woman 
 that lay dead, winding up the bodies as well as 
 her present circumstances would admit. _ Cast ot 
 all, she prepared herself for the poniard, by 
 letting down her robe about her, and adjusting 
 in such a manner as to need no assistance after 
 death: then calling the executioner to do his 
 office, and permitting no other person to approach 
 her, she fell like a heroine. In death she re- 
 tained all the decorum she had preserved in life ; 
 and the decency which had been so sacred with 
 this excellent woman still remained about her. 
 Thus, in this bloody tragedy, wherein the women 
 contended to the last for the prize of courage 
 with the men, Lacedaemon showed that it is ini- 
 Possible for fortune to conquer virtue. 
 
 A few days after, the soldiers who watched the 
 body of Cleomenes on the cross saw a great 
 snake winding about his head, and covering all 
 his face, so that no bird of prey durst touch it. 
 This struck the king with superstitious terrors, 
 and made way for the women to try a variety of 
 expiations ; for Ptolemy was now persuaded that 
 he had caused the death of a person who was a 
 favourite of heaven, and something more than 
 mortal. The Alexandrians crowded to the place, 
 and called Cleomenes a hero, a son of the gods, 
 till the philosophers put a stop to their devotions, 
 by assuring them, that, as dead oxen breed bees,T 
 horses wasps, and beetles rise out of the putre- 
 faction of asses; so human carcases, when some 
 of the moisture of the marrow is evaporated, and 
 it comes to a thicker consistence, produce ser- 
 pents. The ancients, knowing this doctrine, 
 appropriated the serpent, rather than any other 
 animal, to heroes. 
 
 * That the friends of the deceased might not 
 take it away by night. Thus we find in Petio- 
 nius’s Ephesian Matron: Miles qui cruces assir-^ 
 vabat, nequisadsepul uram corpora detraheret. 
 
 and thus we find in an authority we shall not 
 mention at the same time with 
 
 f This was the received opinion of antiquity, 
 as we find in Varro, etc. 
 
( 565 ) 
 
 TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS. 
 
 TIBERIUS GRACCHUS. 
 
 Having thus presented you with the history of" 
 Agis and Cleomenes, we have two Romans to 
 compare with them ; and no less dreadful a scene 
 oi calamities to open in the lives of Tiberius and 
 Cams Gracchus. They were the sons of Tiberius 
 Gracchus; who, though he was once honoured 
 with the censorship, twice with the consulate, 
 and led up two triumphs, yet derived still greater 
 dignity from his virtues.* Hence, after the death 
 of that Scipio who conquered Hannibal, he was 
 thought worthy to marry Cornelia, the daughter 
 of that great man, though he had not been upon 
 any terms of friendship with him, but rather 
 alwap at variance. It is said that he once 
 caught a pair of serpents upon his bed, and that 
 the soothsayers, after they had considered the 
 prodigy, advised him neither to kill them both 
 nor let them both go. If he killed the male 
 serpent, they told him his death would be the 
 consequence; if the female, that of Cornelia. 
 
 wife, and thought it more 
 suitable for him to die first, who was much older 
 than his wife, killed the male, and set the female 
 at liberty. ^ Not long after this, he died, leaving 
 Cwneha with no fewer than twelve children.! 
 
 The care of the house and the children now 
 entirely devolved upon Cornelia; and she be- 
 haved with such sobriety, so much parental affec- 
 tion and greatness of mind, that Tiberius seemed 
 not to have judged ill, in choosing to die for so 
 valuable a woman. For though Ptolemy, king 
 of Egypt, paid his addresses to her, and offered 
 ^r a share in his throne, she refused him. 
 During her widowhood, she lost all her children 
 except three, one daughter, who was married to 
 bcipio the younger, and two sons, Tiberius and 
 Cams, whose lives we are now writing. Cornelia 
 brought them up with so much care, that though 
 dispute of the noblest family, 
 and had the happiest genius and disposition of all 
 the Roman youth, yet education was allowed to 
 have contributed more to their perfections than 
 nature. 
 
 As in the statues and pictures of Castor and 
 Pollux, though there is a resemblance between 
 the brothers, yet there is also a difference in the 
 make of him who delighted in the cestus, and in 
 the other whose province was horsemanship : so 
 while these young men strongly resembled each 
 other m point of valour, of temperance, of libe- 
 rality, of eloquence, of greatness of mind, there 
 actions and political conduct no 
 small dissiimlanty. It may not be amiss to ex- 
 plain the difference, before we proceed further 
 In the first place, Tiberius had a mildness in 
 his look, and a composure in his whole behaviour • 
 Cams as much vehemence and fire. So that’ 
 when they spoke in public, Tiberius had a great 
 
 4-1, hook Divhiatione passes 
 
 ge highest encomiums on his virtue and wisdom. 
 He was grandson to Publius Sempronius. 
 
 T Cicero relates this story in his first book de 
 DiviTiatione, from the memoirs of Caius Grac- 
 chus, the son of Tiberius. 
 
 modesty of action, and shifted not his place: 
 whereas Cams was the first of the Romans that 
 m addressing the people, moved from one end of 
 me rostra to the other, and threw his gown off 
 his shoulder. So it is related of Cleon of Athens, 
 that he was the first orator who threw back his 
 ^be and smote upon his thigh. The oratory of 
 Cams was strongly impassioned, and calculated 
 to excite terror ; that of Tiberius was of a more 
 gentle kind, and pity was the emotion that it 
 raised. 
 
 The language of Tiberius was chastised and 
 elaborate ; that of Caius splendid and persuasive. 
 
 manner of living, Tiberius was plain 
 and frugal ; Cams, when compared to other young 
 Romans, temperate and sober, but, in comparison 
 with his brother, a friend to luxury. Hence 
 Drusas objected to him, that he had bought 
 Delphic tables,* * of silver only, but very exquisite 
 workmanship, at the -rate of 1250 drachmas a 
 pound. 
 
 Their tempers were no less different than their 
 language. Tiberius w^as mild and gentle ; Caius, 
 high-spirited and uncontrolled ; insomuch, that in 
 speaking he would often be carried awa^^^ by the 
 violence of his passion, exalt his voice above the 
 regular pitch, give in to abusive expressions, and 
 disorder the whole frame of his oration. To 
 guard against these excesses, he ordered his ser- 
 vant Licinius, who was a sensible man, to stand 
 with a pitchpipef behind him when he spoke in 
 public, and w’henever he found him straining his 
 voice or breaking out into anger, to give him a 
 softer key ; upon which, his violence both of 
 tone and passion immediately abated, and he was 
 easily recalled to a propriety of address. 
 
 Such was the difference between the two 
 brothers. But in the valour they exerted against 
 their enemies, in the justice they did their fellow- 
 citizens, in attention to their duty as magistrates 
 and in self-government with respect to pleasure’ 
 they were perfectly alike. Tiberius was nine 
 years older than his brother ; consequently their 
 political operations took place in different periods. 
 This was a great disadvantage, and indeed the 
 principal thing that prevented their success. Had 
 they flourished together, and acted in concert, 
 such a union would have added greatly to their 
 force, and perhaps might have rendered it irre- 
 sistible. We must, therefore, speak of each 
 sep^ately ; and we shall begin with the eldest. 
 
 Tiberius, as he grew towards manhood, gained 
 so extraordinary a reputation, that he was ad- 
 mitted into the college of the augurs, rather on 
 account of his virtue than his high birth. Of the 
 excellence of his character the following is also a 
 proof : Appius Claudius, who had been honoured 
 both with the consulate and censorship, whose 
 merit had raised him to the rank of president of 
 
 the senate, and who in sense and spirit was supe- 
 rior to all the Romans of his time, supping one 
 evening with the augurs at a public entertain- 
 ment, addressed himself to Tiberius with great 
 
 * These, we suppose, were a kind of tripods. 
 
 T Cicero, in his third book de Oratore^ calls 
 this a small ivory pipe. Eburneola Jistula. 
 
^56 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 kindness, and ofifered him his daughter in mar- i 
 riage. Tiberius accepted the proposal with t 
 pleasure; and the contract being agreed upon, 1 
 Appius, when he went home, had no sooner 
 entered the house, than he called out aloud to his t 
 wife, and said, “ Antistia, I have contracted our ( 
 daughter Claudia.” Antistia, much surprised, 1 
 answered, “Why so suddenly? What need of ^ 
 such, haste, unless Tiberius Gracchus be the man 1 
 you have pitched upon?” I am not ignorant ; 
 that some* tell the same story of Tiberius, the 
 father of the Gracchi, and Scipio Africanus : but 
 most historians give it in the manner we have 
 mentioned ; and Polybius, m particular, tells us 
 that, after the death of Africanus, Cornelias 
 relations gave her to Tiberius, in preference of all 
 competitors ; which is a proof that her father left 
 her unengaged. , . 
 
 The Tiberius of whom we are writing served in 
 Africa under the younger Scipio, who had mar- 
 ried his sister ; and, as he lived in the same tent 
 with the general, he became immediately attentive 
 to his genius and powers, which were daily pro- 
 ductive of such actions as might animate a young 
 man to virtue, and attract his imitation. With 
 the.^e advantages Tiberius soon excelled all of his 
 age, both in point of discipline and valour. At a 
 siege of one of the enemy’s towns, he was the first 
 that scaled the walls, as Fannius relates,! who, 
 according to his own account, mounted it with 
 him, and had a share in the honour. In short, 
 Tiberius, while he stayed with the army, was 
 greatly beloved, and as much regretted when he 
 left it. 
 
 After this expedition he was appointed qusestor, 
 and it fell to his lot to attend the consul Cams 
 Mancinus in the Numantian war. % Mancinus 
 did not want courage, but he was one of the most 
 unfortunate generals the Romans ever had. Yet, 
 amidst a train of severe accidents and desperate 
 circumstances, Tiberius distinguished himself the 
 more, not only by his courage and capacity, but, 
 what did him greater honour, by his respectful 
 behaviour to his general, whose misfortunes had 
 made him forget even the authority that he bore. 
 For, after having lost several important battles, 
 he attempted to decamp in the night : the Nu- 
 mantians, perceiving this movement, seized the 
 camp, and falling upon the fugitives, made great 
 havoc of the rear. Not satisfied with this, they 
 surrounded the whole army, and drove the 
 Romans upon impracticable ground, where there 
 wus no possibility of escape. Mancinus, now 
 despairing of making his way sword in hand, sent 
 a herald to beg a truce and conditions of peace. 
 The Numantians, however, would trust no man 
 but Tiberius, and they insisted on his being sent 
 to treat. This they did, not only out of regard to 
 the young man who had so great a character in 
 the army, but to the memory of his father, who 
 had formerly made war in S^^ain, and after having 
 subdued several nations, granted the Numantians 
 a peace, which through his interest was confirmee 
 at Rome, and observed with good faith. ^ Tiberius 
 was accordingly sent ; and, in his negotiation, h« 
 thought proper to comply with some articles, b^ 
 
 vhich means he gained others, and made a peace 
 hat undoubtedly saved 20,000 Roman citizens. 
 Desides slaves and other retainers to the army. 
 
 But whatever was left in the camp the Numan- 
 :ians took as legal plunder. Among the rest they 
 :arriedoff the books and papers which contained 
 the accounts of Tiberius’s qusestorship. As it 
 ivas a matter of importance to him to recover 
 them, though the Roman army was already under 
 march, he returned with a few friends to Nu- 
 mantia. Having called out the magistrates of 
 the place, he desired them to restore him his 
 books, that his enemies might not have an oppor- 
 tunity to accuse him, v/hen they saw he had lost 
 the means of defending himself. The Numan- 
 tians were much pleased that the accident had 
 given them an opportunity to oblige him, and 
 they invited him to enter their city. As he was 
 deliberating on this circumstance, they drew 
 nearer, and taking him by the hand, earnestly 
 entreated him no longer to look upon them as 
 enemies, but to rank them among his friends, 
 and place a confidence in them as such. Tiberius 
 thought it best to comply, both^ for the sake of 
 his books, and for fear of offending them by the 
 appearance of distrust. Accordingly he went 
 into the town with them, where the first thing they 
 did was to provide a little collation, and to beg 
 he would partake of it. Afterwards they re- 
 turned him his books, and desired he would take 
 whatever else he chose among the spoils. He 
 accepted, however, of nothing but some frank- 
 incense, to be used in the public sacrifices, and at 
 his departure he embraced them with great cor- 
 diality. 
 
 On his return to Rome, he found that the whole 
 business of the peace was considered in an ob- 
 noxious and dishonourable light. In this danger, 
 the relations and friends of the soldiers he had 
 brought off, who made a very considerable part of 
 the people, joined to support Tiberius ; imputing 
 all the disgrace of what was done to the general, 
 and insisting that the quaestor had saved so many 
 citizens. The generality of the citizens, however, 
 could not suffer the peace to stand, and they 
 demanded that, in this case, the example of their 
 ancestors should be followed. For when their 
 generals thought themselves happy in getting out 
 of the hands of the Samnites, by agreeing to such 
 a league, they delivered them naked to the 
 enemy.* The quaestors too, and the tribunes, 
 and all that had a share in concluding the peace 
 they sent back in the same condition, and turned 
 entirely upon them the breach of the treaty and 
 of the oath that should have confirmed it. _ 
 
 On this occasion the people showed their affec- 
 tion for Tiberius in a remarkable manner : for 
 i they decreed that the consul should be delivered 
 up to the Numantians, naked and in chains ; but 
 
 • that all the rest should be spared for the sake of 
 ; Tiberius. Scipio, who had then great authority 
 ; and interest in Rome, seems to have contributed 
 1 to the procuring of this decree. He was blamed, 
 ; notwithstanding, for not saving Mancinus, nor 
 ; using his best endeavours to get the peace with the 
 r Numantians ratified, which would not have been 
 
 • granted at all, had it not been on account of his 
 friend and relation Tiberius. Great part of these 
 
 * Amongst these was Livy, lib. xxxviii. c. 37.’ 
 t This Fannius was author of a history anc 
 certain annals which were abridged by Brutus. 
 
 X He was consul with Emilius Lepidus in th< 
 ^-^ear of Rome 616. 
 
 ^ * This was about 182 years before. The 
 
 s generals sent back were the consuls Veturius 
 1 Calvinus and Posthumius Albinus. 
 
TIBERIUS GRACCHUS. 
 
 complaints, indeed, seems to have arisen from the 
 ambition and excessive zeal of Tiberius’s friends. 
 
 567 
 
 and the sophists he had about him ; and the dif- 
 ference between him and Scipio was far from 
 ; terminating in irreconcilable enmity. Nay, I 
 I am persuaded, that Tiberius would never have 
 I ^len into those misfortunes that ruined him, had 
 1 Scipio been at home, to assist him in his political 
 : conduct. He was engaged in war with Nu- 
 mantia, when Tiberius ventured to propose his 
 new laws. It was on this occasion. 
 
 I Romans in their wars made any 
 
 acquisitions of lands from their neighbours, they 
 used formerly to sell part, to add part to the 
 pubhc demesnes, and to distribute the rest among 
 the necessitous citizens ; only reserving a small 
 treasur3^ But when the 
 nch began to carry it with a high hand over the 
 poor, and to e.xclude them entirelj’-, if they did 
 not pay exorbitant rents, a law was made that no 
 should be possessed of more than 500 acres 
 01 land. Inis statute for awhile restrained the 
 avarice of the rich, and helped the poor, who, b>' 
 virtue ot it, remained upon their lands at the ^old 
 rents. But afterwards their weaith^^ neighbours 
 took their farms from them, and held them in 
 other names ; though, m time, they scrupled not 
 to claim them in their own. The poor thus ex- ■ 
 pelied, neither gave in their names readily to the 
 attended to the education of their I 
 chiidien. The consequence was a want of free- 
 men all over Italy ; fcr it was hlled with slaves ' 
 and barbarians, who, after the poor Roman , 
 citizens were dispossessed, cultivated the ground I 
 for the rich. C_uus Laelius, the friend of Scipio, ' 
 attempted to correct this disorder : but finding a 
 fonrudable opposition from persons in power, and 
 fearing the matter could not be decided wi^out 
 the sword, he gave it up. This gained him the 
 name of Laelius the ‘O’zse.* But Tiberius was no 
 sooner appomted tribune of the people, than fie 
 embarked m the same enterprise. He wms put 
 u^n It, according to most authors, bv Diophanes 
 the rhetorician, and Biossius the philosopher • the 
 former of whom wms a !Mit3dean e.xiie. the latter a 
 native of Cumae in Italy, and a particular friend 
 of Tarsus, with whom he became 
 acquainted at Rome, and who did him the honour 
 t^iQcress some of his philosophical writings to 
 
 Some blame his mother Cornelia, w'ho used to 
 reproach her sons, that she was still called the 
 mother-in-law of Scipio, not the mother of the 
 Craccm. Others say, Tiberius took this rash step 
 ircm a jealousj^ or Spurius Posthumius, who w as 
 01 the same age with him, and his ri\ml in oratoriu 
 ft seems, when he returned from the wars, he 
 found Posthumius so much before him in point of 
 reputation and mterest with the people, that, to 
 recover his ^ound, he undertook this hazardous 
 afiair, which so effectually drew the popular 
 attention upon him. But his brother Caius writes 
 that as Tibenus was passing through Tuscany on 
 ms wmy to Numantia, and found the country 
 ahuost depopulated, there being scarce any hus- 
 bandmen or shepherds, except slaves from foreign 
 and barbarous nations, he then first formed the 
 
 * Plutarch seems here to have followed some 
 mist^en authority. It was not this circumstance, 
 but the abstemiousness of his life, that gave 
 Loeiius tne name of ZL’Sse. I 
 
 project which plunged them into so many mis- 
 fortunes. It IS certain, however, that the people 
 inflamed ms spirit of enterprise and ambition by 
 puttmg up writings on the porticoes, walls, and 
 monuments, m which they begged of him to j 
 restore their share of the public lands to the ' 
 pocr. _ I 
 
 \ et he did not frame the law without consulting 
 some of the Romans that were most distinguished 
 for their virtue and authority. Among these were 
 Crassus tne chief pontiff, Mutius Scaevola the law- 
 ! consul, and Appius 
 
 ■ Claudius, father-in-law to Tiberius. There never 
 was a milder law made against so much injustice 
 and oppresrion. For they who deserv'ed to have 
 
 i b^n punished for their infringement on the rights 
 : of the community, and fined for holding the lands 
 I contraiy^ to law, were to have a consideration for 
 : g/'ing up their groundless claims, and restoring 
 i tne estates to such of the citizens as were to be 
 reheved. But though the reformation was con- 
 ducted with so much tenderness, the people were 
 satisned : they were willing to overlook what was 
 pas^d, on condition that the}’ might guard 
 against future usurpations. 
 
 On the^ other hand, persons of great property 
 ^ opposed tne law out of avarice, and the lawgiver 
 ; out of a spirit of ^ resentment and malignity ; 
 
 ■ endeavouring to prejudice the people against the 
 design, as if Tiberius intended by ‘the Agrarian 
 
 j law to throw all into disorder, and subvert the 
 consutution. But ^eir attempts were vain. For 
 m this just and glorious cause, Tiberius exerted an 
 el^uence ^ihich might have adorned a worse 
 subject, and which nothing could resist. How 
 great was he, when the people were gathered 
 about the rostrum, and he pleaded for the poor 
 m sucQ language as this: “The wild beasts of 
 Italy nave their caves to retire to, but the brave 
 vvbo their blood in her cause have 
 
 notmng left but air and light. Without houses 
 without any settled habitations, they wander from 
 place to place with their wfives and children ; and 
 their generals do but mock them, when, at the 
 head ot their armies, they e-xhort their men to fight 
 for their sepulchres and domestic gods : for 
 ^ong such numoers, perhaps there is not a 
 Roman who has an altm that belonged to his 
 j ^ sepulchre in which their ashes rest. 
 
 soldiers fight and die, to advance the 
 ^ w^lth and luxury of the great; and they are 
 : cahed masters of the world, while tliey have not 
 i a foot of ground in their possession.” 
 
 Such speeches as this, delivered by a of 
 , such spirit, and fiowing from a heart really 
 interested in the cause, filled the people with an 
 enthusiastic fur\", and none of his adversaries 
 durst pretend to answer him. Forbearing, ^ere- 
 fore, the war of words, they addressed themselves 
 to Marcus Octavius, one of the tribunes, a grave 
 and modest 3-oung man, and an intimate acquaint- 
 ance of Tiberius. Out of reverence for his friend, 
 ne declined tlie taslc at first j but upon a number 
 ot applications from men of tiie first rank, he was 
 prevailed upon to oppose Tiberius, and prevent 
 the passing of the law : for the tribunes' power 
 ctoefiy lies m the negative voice, and if one of 
 them stands out, the rest can efifect nothing. 
 
 Incensed by this behaviour, Tiberius dropped 
 his moderate bill, and proposed another more 
 agreeable to the commonalty, and more severe 
 against the usurpers. For by this they were 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 commanded immediately to quit the lands which 
 they held contrary to former laws. Un tms 
 subject there were daily disputes between him 
 and Octavius on the rostra; yet not one abusive 
 or disparaging word is said to have escaped either 
 of them in all the heat of speaking. Indeed, an 
 in«^enuous disposition and Uberal education will 
 prevent or restrain the sallies of passion, not only 
 during the free enjo>nnent of the bottle, but in 
 the ardour of contention about pomts of a superior 
 
 ^^Tiberius, observing that Octavius was liable to 
 suffer by the bill, as haying more land than the 
 laws could warrant, desired him to give up his 
 opposition, and offered, at the same time, to 
 indemnify him out of his own fortune, though 
 that was not great. As this proposal \yas not 
 •accepted, Tiberius forbade all other magistrates 
 to exercise their functions, till the Agrarian law 
 w^as passed. He likewise put his own seal upon 
 the doors of the temple of Saturn, that the 
 quaestors might neither bring anything into the 
 treasury, nor take anything out. And he threat- 
 ened to fine such of the praetors as should attempt 
 to disobey his command. This struck such a 
 terror that all departments of government were at 
 a stand. Persons of great property put them- 
 selves into mourning, and appeared m pubhc ^ylth 
 all the circumstances that they thought might 
 excite compassion. Not satisfied with this, they 
 conspired the death of Tiberius, and suborned 
 assassins to destroy him : for which reason he 
 appeared with a tuck, such as is used by robbers, 
 w^hich the Romans call a dolon* . 
 
 When the day appointed came, and iibenus 
 was summoning the people to give their suffmges, 
 a party of the people of property earned off the 
 balloting vessels,! which occasioned great com 
 fusion. Tiberius, however, seemed strong enough 
 to carry his point by force, and his partisans were 
 preparing to have recourse to it, when Manlius 
 and Fulvius, men of consular dignity, fell at 
 Tiberius’s feet, bathed his hands with tears, and 
 conjured him not to put his purpose into execution. 
 He now perceived how dreadful the consequences 
 of his attempt might be, and his reverence for 
 those tw'O great men had its effect upon him : he 
 therefore asked them what they would have him 
 do. They said, they were not capable of advising 
 him in so important an affair, and earnestly 
 entreated him to refer it to the senate. The 
 senate assembled to deliberate upon it, but the 
 ' influence of the people of fortune on that body 
 wms such, that their debates ended in nothing. 
 
 Tiberius then adopted a measure that wms 
 
 * We find this w'ord used by Virgil. 
 
 Pila manu, saevosque gerunt in bella dolones, 
 JEn. vii. 664. 
 
 The dolon was a staff that had a poniard 
 concealed within it, and had its name from dolus, 
 deceit. ^ 
 
 t The original signifies an um. The Romans 
 had two sorts of vessels which they used in 
 balloting. The first were open vessels called 
 cisUe, or cistellcB, which contained the ballots 
 before they were distributed to the people ; the 
 others, with narrow necks, were called sitella, 
 and into these the people cast their ballots. The 
 latter were the vessels which are here said to have 
 been carried off. 
 
 neither just nor moderate. He resolved to remove 
 Octavius from the tribuneship, because there i^s 
 no other means to get his law passed. He 
 addressed him indeed in public first, m a mild 
 and friendly manner, and taking him by me hand, 
 conjured him to gratify the people, who asked 
 nothing that was unjust, and wmuld only receive 
 a small recompense for the great labours and 
 dangers they had experienced. But Octavius 
 absolutely refused to comply. Tibenus then de- 
 clared that as it was not possible for two magis- 
 trates of equal authority, when they differed in 
 such capital points, to go through the remainder 
 of their office without coming to hostilities, he 
 saw no other remedy but the deposing of them.. 
 He therefore desired Octavius to take the sense of 
 the people first wdth respect to him; assuring 
 him that he would immediately return to a prtyate 
 station, if the suffrages of his fellpw-citizens 
 should order it so. As Octavius rejected this 
 proposal too, Tiberius told him plainly, that he 
 would put the question to the people concerning 
 him, if upon farther consideration he did not 
 alter his mind. -nt ^ 
 
 Upon this he dismissed the assembly. Next 
 day he convoked it again ; and when he had 
 mounted the rostra, he made another trial to 
 bring Octavius to compliance. But findmg him 
 inflexible, he proposed a decree for depriving him 
 of the tribuneship, and immediately put it to the 
 vote. When, of the five and thirty tribes, seven- 
 teen had given their voices for it, and there 
 wanted only one more to make Octavius a private 
 man, Tiberius ordered them to stop, and once 
 more applied to his colleague. He embraced 
 him with great tenderness in the sight ot the 
 people, and with the most pressing instances 
 besought him, neither to bring such a niark of 
 infamy upon himself, nor expose him to the dis- 
 reputation of being promoter of such severe and 
 violent measures. It was not without emotion 
 that Octavius is said to have listened to these 
 entreaties. His eyes were filled with tears, and 
 he stood a long time silent. But when he looked 
 towards the persons of property, who were assein- 
 bled in a body, shame and fear of losing himseli 
 in their opinion brought him. back to his resolution 
 to run all risks, and, with a noble firnmess, he 
 bade Tiberius do his pleasure. The bill, therefore, 
 w^as passed ; and Tiberius ordered one of his 
 freedmen to pull down Octavius from the tribunal ; 
 for he employed his own freedmen as hetors. 
 This ignominious manner of expulsi^ made the 
 case of Octavius more pitiable. The People, 
 notwithstanding, fell upon him ; but by the 
 assistance of those of the lanaed interest, who 
 came to his defence, and kept off the mob, he 
 escaped with his life. However, a faithful s^ant 
 of his, who stood before him to wmd off the 
 danger, had his eyes tom out. Ihis violence was 
 much against the will of Tiberius, w'ho no sooner 
 saw the tumult rising, than he hastened dowm to 
 
 ^^The^^A^arian law then was confirmed, and 
 three commissioners appointed to take a 
 of the lands, and see them properly distributed. 
 Tiberius was one of the three ; his father-iiwaw, 
 Appius Claudius, another ; and his brother. Cams 
 Gracchus, the third. The latter was then making 
 the campaign under Scipio at Numantia. ii- 
 berius having carried these points without oppo- 
 sition, next filled up the vacant tribune s seat ; 
 
TIBERIUS GRACCHUS. 
 
 into which he did not put a man of any note, but 
 Mutius, one of his o\ra clients. These proceed- 
 ings exasperated the patricians extremelj^, and as 
 they dreaded the increase of his power, they took 
 everj^ opportunity to insult him in the senate. 
 ^\^len he desired, for instance, what was nothing 
 more than, customar}-, a tent at the public charge, 
 for his use in dividing the lands, they refused 
 him one, though such things had been often 
 granted on much less important occasions. And, 
 at the motion of Publius Nasica, he had only 
 nine^ oboli a day allowed for his expenses. 
 ?sasica, indeed, was become his avowed enemy ; 
 for he had a great estate in the public lands, and 
 was of course unwilling to be stripped of it. 
 
 At the same time the people were more and 
 more enraged. One of Tiberius’s friends happen- 
 ing to die suddenlj’-, and malignant spots ap- 
 pearing upon the bod 3 % they loudly declared that 
 the man was poisoned. *1 hey assembled at his 
 funeral, took the bier upon their shoulders, and 
 carried it to the pile. There they were confirmed 
 in their suspicions ; for the corpse burst, and 
 emitted such a quantity of corrupted humours, 
 that It put out the fire. Though more fire was 
 brought, still the wood would not bum till it was 
 removed to another place ; and it was with much 
 ^fficulty at last that the body was consumed. 
 Hence Til erius took occasion to incense the com- 
 monalty still more against the other partj^. He 
 put himself in mourning ; he led his children into 
 the /ortan^ and recommended them and their 
 mother to the protection of the people, as giving 
 up his own life for lost. 
 
 About this time died Attalus * Philopator ; and 
 Eudemus of Pergamus brought his will to Rome, 
 by which It appeared, that he had left the Roman 
 people his heirs. Tii^erius, endeavouring to avail 
 himself of this incident, immediately proposed a 
 Lvw, that all the ready money the king had left 
 should be distributed among the citizens, to en- 
 able them to provide working tools and proceed 
 in the cultivation of their newly assigned lands 
 As to the cities, too, in the territories of Attalus" 
 the senate, he said, had not a right to dispose of 
 t^hem, but^the people, and he would refer the 
 business entirely to their judgment. 
 
 This embroiled him still more with the senate : 
 and one or their body, of the name of Pompey 
 stood up and said he was next neighbour to 
 liberius, and by that means had opportunity 
 to know that Eudemus the Pergamenian had 
 brought him a royal diadem and purple robe for 
 his use when he was king of Rome. Quintus 
 i letellus said another severe thing against him. 
 
 During the censorship of your father, whenever 
 lie returned home after supper, t the citizens put 
 out their lights, that they might not appear to 
 indulge themselves at unseasonable hours ; but 
 you, at a late hour, have some of the meanest 
 and most audacious of the people about you with 
 torches in their hands.” And Titus Annius, a 
 man of no character in point of morals, but an 
 acute disputant, and remarkable for the subtlety 
 
 569 
 
 This was Attalus III. the son of Eumenes II. 
 and btratonice, and the last king of Pergamus. 
 He was not, however, surnamed Philopator. but 
 5 St (^?main^^ stands in the manuscript 
 
 t Probably frorn the public hall where he 
 supped with Ins colleague. 
 
 both of his questions and answers, one day 
 chailen^d Tiberius, and offered to prove him 
 ^ 11 ^ great offence in deposing one of his 
 colleagues, whose person by the laws was sacred 
 and mviolable. This proposition raised a tumult 
 in the audience, and Tiberius immediately went 
 out and called an assembly of the people de- 
 siring to accuse Annius of the indignity he’ had 
 offered him. Annius appeared ; and knoiving 
 himself greatly inferior both in eloquence and 
 reputation, he had recourse to his old art, and 
 begged leave only to ask him a question before 
 the busmess came on. Tiberius consented, and 
 silence b^g: made, Annius said, “'Would you 
 hx a mark of disgrace and infamy upon me, if I 
 should appeal to one of your colleagues And if 
 he came to my assistance, would you in xoxic 
 anger depnve him of his office ? ” It is said, that 
 this question so puzzled Tiberius, that with all 
 his readiness of speech and propriety cf assur- 
 ance, he made no manner of answer. 
 
 He therefore dismissed the assembly for th“ 
 present. He perceived, however, that the step 
 he had taken m deposing a tribune had offended 
 not only the patricians but the people too ; for by 
 appeared to have robbed 
 that high office of its dignity, which till then had 
 been preserved in great security and honour. In 
 consequence of this reflection, he called the 
 commons toge^er again, and made a speech to 
 them, Irom which it may not be amiss to give an 
 specimen of the power and 
 strength of his eloquence. “The person of a 
 tribune, I acknowledge, is sacred and inviolable 
 because he is consecrated to the people, and takes 
 their interests under his protection. But when 
 he aeserts those interests, and becomes an op- 
 pressor of the people, when he retrenches their 
 privileges, and takes away their liberty of votincr 
 by those acts he deprives himself, for he no 
 lonpr keeps to the intention of his employment. 
 Other%nse, if a tribune should demolish the 
 Capitol, and bum the docks and naval stores his 
 person could not be touched. A man who should 
 do sucn things as those might still be tribune 
 though a vile one ; but he who diminishes the 
 privileges of _^e people ceases to be a tribune of 
 the people. Does it not shock you to think that 
 a tribune should be able to imprison a consul, and 
 the people not have it in their power to deprive 
 a tribune of his authority, when he uses it against 
 those who gave it ? For the tribunes, as well as 
 the consuls, are elected by the people. Kino-Iy 
 goyernment seems to comprehend all aiithoruy 
 in itself, and kings are consecrated with the most 
 awtul ceremonies ; 3 ’et the citizens expelled Tar- 
 qum when his administration became iniquitous • 
 and, for the offence of one man, the ancient 
 government, under whose auspices Rome was 
 erected, was entirely abolished, ^\^lat is there 
 in Rome so sacred and venerable as the vestal 
 virgins who keep the perpetual fire ? Yet if any 
 of them transgresses the rules cf her order, she is 
 buried alive. For they who are guilty of impiety 
 against the gods lose that sacred character which 
 they had only for the sake of the gods. So a 
 tribune who injures the people can be no loncrer 
 sicred and inviolable on the people's account. 
 
 He d^troys that power in which alone his 
 lay If it is just for him to be invested 
 with the tnbumtial authority by a majority of 
 tribes, IS It net more just for him to be deposed 
 
570 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 by the suffrages of them all ? What is^ more 
 sacred and inviolable than the offerings in the 
 temples of the gods ? yet none pretends to hinder 
 the people from making use of them, or removing 
 them wherever they please. ^ And, indeed, that 
 the tribune’s office is not inviolable or unremov- 
 able, appears from hence that several have volun- 
 tarily laid it down, or been discharged at their 
 own request.” These were the heads of Tiberius s 
 
 His friends, however, being sensible of the 
 menaces of his enemies, and the combination to 
 destroy him, were of opinion that he ought to 
 make interest to get the tribuneship continued to 
 him another year. For this purpose he thought 
 of other laws, to secure the commonalty on his 
 side ; that for shortening^ the time of military 
 service, and that for granting an appeal from the 
 judges to the people. The bench of judges at 
 that time consisted of senators only, but he 
 ordered an equal number of kfoights and senators , 
 though it must be confessed, that his taking 
 every possible method to reduce the power of the 
 patricians savoured more of obstinacy ana 
 sentment, than of a regard for justice and the 
 public good. 
 
 When the day came for it to be put to the V9te 
 whether these laws should be ratified, Tiberius 
 and his party, perceiving that their adversaries 
 were the strongest (for all the people did not 
 attend), spun out the time in altercations with 
 the other tribunes ; and at last he adjourned the 
 assembly to the day following. In the mean 
 time he entered the forum with all the ensigns 
 of distress, and, with tears in his eyes, humbly 
 applied to the cituens, assuring them he was 
 afraid that the enemies would demolish his house, 
 and take his life before the next morning. This 
 affected them so much, that numbers erected 
 tents before his door, and guarded him all night. 
 
 At daybreak the person who had the care of 
 the chickens which they use in augury, brought 
 them, and set m.eat before them ; but they would 
 none of them come out of their pen, except one, 
 though the man shook it very much; and that 
 one would not eat ; * it only raised up its left 
 wing, and stretched out its leg, and then went 
 in again. This put Tiberius in mind of a former 
 ill omen. He had a helmet that he wore in 
 battle, finely ornamented and remarkably mag- 
 nificent ; two serpents that had crept into it 
 privately laid their eggs and hatched in it. 
 Such a bad presage made him more afraid^ of 
 the late one. Yet he set out for the Capitol 
 as soon as he understood that the people were 
 assembled there. But in going out of his house 
 he stumbled upon the threshold, and strucx it 
 with so much violence that the nail of his great 
 toe was broken, and the blood flowed from the 
 wound. When he had got a little on his way, 
 he saw on his left hand two ravens fighting on 
 the top of a house, and though he was attended, 
 on account of his dignity, by great numbem of 
 people, a stone which one of the ravens threw 
 down fell close by his foot. This stagge^d the 
 boldest of his partisans. But Blossius t of Cumse, 
 
 * When the chickens ate greedily, they thought 
 it a sign of good fortune. 
 
 t In the printed text it is Blastus ; but one of 
 the manuscripts gives us Blossius, and all the 
 translators have followed it. 
 
 one of his train, said it would be an insupportable 
 disgrace, if Tiberius, the son of Gracchus, grand- 
 son of Scipio Africanus, and protector of the 
 people of Rome, should, for fear of a raven, 
 disappoint that people when they called him_ to 
 their assistance. His enemies, he assured him, 
 would not be satisfied with laughing at this false 
 step ; they would represent him to the commons 
 as already taking all the insolence of a tyrant 
 upon him. r 
 
 At the same time several messengers from his 
 friends in the Capitol came and desired him to 
 make haste, for (they told him) everything went 
 there according to his wish. . . 
 
 At first, indeed, there was a most promising 
 appearance. When the assembly saw him at a 
 distance, they expressed their joy in the loudest 
 acclamations ; on his approach they received him 
 with the utmost cordiality, and formed a circle 
 about him to keep all strangers off. Mutius then 
 began to call over the tribes, in order to business ; 
 but nothing could be done in the usual form, by 
 reason of the disturbance made by the populace, 
 who were still pressing forward. Meantime 
 Fulvius* Flaccus, a senator, got upon an emi- 
 nence, and, knowing he could not be heard, 
 made a sign with his hand that he had something 
 to say to Tiberius in private. Tiberius having 
 ordered the people to make way, Flaccus vath 
 much difficulty got to him, and informed him, that 
 those of the landed interest had applied to the 
 consul, while the senate was sitting, and, as they 
 could not bring that magistrate into their views, 
 they had resolved to despatch Tiberius them- 
 selves, and for that purpose had armed a number 
 of their friends and slaves. ^ • n* 
 
 Tiberius no sooner communicated this intelli- 
 gence to those about him, than they tucked up 
 their gowns, seized the halberts with which the 
 Serjeants kept off the crowd, broke them, ^d 
 took the pieces to ward against any assault that 
 might be made. Such _ as were at a distanc^, 
 much surprised at this incident, asked what the 
 reason might be ; and Tiberius finding they could 
 not hear him, touched his head with his hand, to 
 signify the danger he was in. His adversaries 
 seeing this, ran to the senate, and informed them 
 that Tiberius demanded _ the diadem ; alleging 
 that gesture as a proof of it. ^ 
 
 This raised a great commotion. Nasica called 
 upon the consul to defend the coni mon wealth, 
 and destroy the tyrant. The consul mildly an- 
 swered that he would not begin to use violence, 
 nor would he put any citizen .to death who was 
 not legally condemned ; but, if Tiberius should 
 either persuade or force the people to decree 
 anything contrary to the constitution he would 
 take care to annul it. Upon which, Nasica 
 started up, and said, “Since the consul gives 
 up his country, let all who choose to support the 
 laws follow me.” So saying, he covered his 
 head with the skirt of his robe, and then advanced 
 to the Capitol. Those who followed him \\tapped 
 each his gown about his hand and made their 
 way through the crowd. Indeed, on account ot 
 their superior quality, they met with no ^^^sist- 
 ance ; on the contrary, the people trampled on 
 one another to get out of their way. Their 
 attendants had brought clubs and blud^ons 
 with them from home, and the patricians them- 
 
 Not Flavius, as it is in the printed text. 
 
TIBERIUS GRACCHUS. 
 
 selves seized the feet of the benches which the 
 populace had broken in their flight. Thus armed, 
 they made towards Tiberius, knocking down such 
 as stood before him. These being killed or 
 dispersed, Tiberius likewise fled. One of his 
 enemies laid hold on his gown ; but he let it go, 
 and continued his flight in his under garment! 
 He happened, however, to stumble and fall upon 
 some of the killed. As he was recovering him- 
 self, Publius Satureius, one of his colleagues 
 came up openly, and struck him on the head 
 With the foot of a stool. The second blow was 
 given him by Lucius Rufus, who afterwards 
 valued himself upon it as a glorious exploit. 
 Above 300 more lost their lives by clubs and 
 stones, but not a man by the sword. 
 
 Ihis is said to have been the first sedition in 
 Rome, since the expulsion of the kings, in v/hich 
 the blood of any citizen was shed. All the rest, 
 though neither small in themselves, nor about 
 matters of little consequence, were appeased by 
 mutual concessions ; the senate giving up some- 
 thing, on one side, for fear of the people, and the 
 Pf other, out of respect for the senate. 
 
 Had Tiberius been moderately dealt with, it is 
 probable that he would have compromised matters 
 in a much easier way ; and certainly he might 
 have been reduced, without their depriving him 
 1 ^or he had not above 3000 men 
 
 about mm. But, it seems, the conspiracy was 
 formed against him, rather to satisfy the resent- 
 ment and malignity of the rich, than for the 
 reasons they held out to the public. A strong 
 proof of this we have in their cruel and abomin- 
 able treatment of his dead body. For, notwith- 
 standing the entreaties of his brother, they would 
 not permit him to take away the corpse, and 
 bury It in the night, but threw it into the river 
 with the other carcases. Nor was this all ; they 
 banished some of his friends without form of 
 trial, and took others and put them to death. 
 Among the latter was Diophanes the rhetorician. 
 Une Cams Billius they shut up in a cask with 
 vipers and other serpents, and left him to perish 
 m that cruel manner. As for Blossius of Cumse 
 he was carried before the consuls, and hein^ 
 interrogated about the late proceedings, he d^ 
 dared, that he had never failed to execute what- 
 ever Tiberius commanded.* “What, then,” said 
 Nasica, ^ if Tiberius had ordered thee to burn 
 the Capitol, wouldst thou have done it?” At 
 first he turned it off, and said Tiberius would 
 never have given him such an order. But when 
 a number repeated the same question several times, 
 he said, In that case I should have thought 
 
 571 
 
 written by Cicero under 
 ^ different account of the matter. 
 
 , Blossius, he says, “ after the murder of Tibe- 
 
 whh was in conference 
 
 ^ith the consuls Popilius Laenas and Publius 
 Rupilius, and earnestly begged for a pardon 
 fin??" defence, that such was his venera! 
 tion for Tiberius, he could not refuse to do 
 anything he desired. "If then,’ said Lselius 
 
 u u j T Luca, saiQ juselius 
 
 ** ordered you to set fire to the Capitol 
 would you have done it?’ ‘Thaf > di„ 
 
 • vAwxxc xt ; That,’ replied Blos- 
 
 i?he W ordered me; but 
 
 if he had, I should have obeyed him.’” Blos- 
 sius does not, upon this occasion, appear to have 
 been under a judicial examination, as Plutarch 
 represents him. ’ -tiuiarcn 
 
 It extremely right; for Tiberius would never 
 have laid such a command upon me, if it had 
 not been for the advantage of the people of Rome.” 
 He ^escaped, however, with his life, and after- 
 wards repaired to Aristonicus, in Asia; but 
 finding that prince’s affairs entirely ruined, he 
 laid violent hands on himself. 
 
 The senate, now desirous to reconcile the people 
 to these acts of theirs, no longer opposed the 
 Agrarian law ; and they permitted them to elect 
 another commissioner, in the room of Tiberius 
 for dividing the lands. In consequence of which’ 
 mey chose Pi^lius Crassus, a relation of the 
 Gracchi ; for Cams Gracchus had married his 
 daughter Licinia. Cornelius Nepos, indeed 
 says. It was not the daughter of Crassus, but of 
 t^hat Brutus who was honoured with a triumph for 
 his conquests in Lusitania ; but most historians 
 give It for the former. 
 
 Nevertheless, the people were still much con- 
 cerned at tne loss of Tiberius, and it was plain 
 that they only waite'd for an opportunity of re- 
 venge. Nasica was now threatened with an 
 impeachment. The senate, therefore, dreading 
 the consequence, sent him into Asia, though 
 there was no need of him there. For the peopfe 
 whenever they met him, did not suppress their 
 resemment m the least : on the contrary, with 
 all the violence that hatred could suggest, thev 
 called him an execrable wretch, a tyrant who had 
 dehled the holiest and most awful temple in Rome 
 with the blood of a magistrate, whose person 
 ought to have been sacred and inviolable. 
 
 privately quitted Italy 
 though by his office he was obliged to attend the 
 pincipal sacrifices, for he was chief pontiff. Thus 
 he wandered from place to place in a foreign 
 country, and after a while died at Pergamus. 
 JNor is It to oe wondered that the people had so 
 unconquerable an aversion to Nasica, since Scipio 
 Aincanus himself, who seems to have been one of 
 tne greatest favourites of the Romans, as well as 
 to have had great right to their affection, was 
 near forfeiting all the kind regards of the people 
 because when the news of Tiberius’s death was 
 brought to Numantia, he expressed himself in 
 that verse of Homer— 
 
 So perish all that in such crimes engage.! 
 Aftervvards Cams and Fulvius asked him, in an 
 assembly of the people, what he thought of the 
 ^ath of Tiberius, and by his answer he gave 
 them to understand that he was far from approv- 
 mg of his proceedings. Ever after this, the 
 commons interrupted him when he spoke in 
 public, though they offered him no such affront 
 before ; and on the other hand, he scrupled not 
 to treat them with very severe language. But 
 we have related at large in the life 
 
 of bcipio. 
 
 Aristonicus was a bastard brother of Attains • 
 and being highly offended at him for bequeathing 
 his kingdoin to the Romans, attempted to get 
 possession of it by arms, and made himself master 
 of several towns. _ The Romans sent Crassus the 
 second year after the 
 death of Tiberius. Crassus was defeated and 
 
 X 1 1 A ■ . ueieatea and 
 
 taken by Anstonicus. The year following, Aris- 
 tontcus was defeated in his turn, and taken 
 
 prisoner by Perpenna. 
 t In Minerva’s speech to Jupiter. Odys. lib. i. 
 
^^2 PLUTARCH'S LIFTS. 
 
 C 
 
 c 
 
 CAIUS GRACCHUS. t 
 
 Whether it was that Caius Gracchus was afraid ^ 
 of his enemies, or wanted to make theni more 
 obnoxious to the people, at first he left the/orum, c 
 and kept close in his own house ; like oxie who t 
 was either sensible how much his f^amily was i 
 reduced, or who intended to make public business 1 
 no more his object : insomuch that some scrupled ( 
 not to affirm that he disapproved and even de- : 
 tested his brother’s administration. He was, ! 
 indeed, as yet very young, not being so old as - 
 Tiberius by nine years ; and Tiberius at his death 
 was not quite thirty. However, in a short time 
 it appeared that he had an aversion, not only to 
 idleness and effeminacy, but to intemperance and 
 avarice. And he improved his powers of orator;^ 
 as if he considered them as the wings on which 
 he must rise to the great offices of state. These 
 circumstances showed that he would not long 
 continue inactive. ^ • j a 
 
 In the defence of one of his friends named 
 Vettius, he exerted so much eloquence, that the 
 people were charmed beyond expression, and 
 borne away with all the transports of enthusiasm. 
 On this occasion he showed that other ora^rs 
 were no more than children in comparison, i he 
 nobility had all their former apprehensions re- 
 newed, and they began to take measures among 
 themselves to prevent the advancement ot Cams 
 to the tribunitial power. , ^ * 
 
 It happened to fall to his lot to attend Orestes 
 the consul in Sardinia in capacity of qumstor. 
 This gave his enemies great pleasure. Cams, 
 however, was not uneasy on the event ; for he 
 was of a military turn, and had as good talents 
 for the camp as for the bar. Besides, he was 
 under some apprehension about taking a share in 
 the administration, or of appearing upon the 
 rostra, and at the same time he knew that he 
 could not resist the importunities of the people or 
 his friends. For these reasons he thought him- 
 self happy in the opportunity of going abroad. 
 
 It is a common opinion, that of his own accord 
 he became a violent demagogue, and that he was 
 much more studious than Tiberius to make him- 
 self popular. But that is not the truth. On the 
 contrary, it seems to have been rather necessity 
 than choice that brought him upon the public 
 stage. For Cicero the orator relates, that when 
 Caius avoided all offices in the state, and had 
 taken a resolution to live perfectly quiet, his 
 brother appeared to him in a dream, and thus 
 addressed him, “V/hy lingerest thou. Cams? 
 There is no alternative. The fates have decreed 
 us both the same pursuit of life, and the same 
 death, in vindicating the rights of the people. 
 
 In Sardinia, Caius gave a noble specimen ol 
 every virtue, distinguishing himself greatly among 
 the other young Romans, not only in his opera- 
 tions against the enemy, and in acts of ji^tice tc 
 such as submitted, but in his respectful anc 
 obliging behaviour to the general. In temper 
 ance, in simplicity of diet, and love of labour 
 he excelled even the veterans. . , . 
 
 There followed a severe and sickly winter u 
 
 iardinia, and the general demanded of the cities 
 lothing for his men. But they sent a deputation 
 
 0 Rome to solicit an exemption from this burden, 
 fhe senate listened to their request, and ordered 
 he general to take some other method. As he 
 :ould not think of withdrawing his demands, and 
 he soldiers suffered much in the mean time. Cams 
 ipplied to the towns in person, and prevailed with 
 Lem to send the Romans a voluntary supply of 
 Nothing. News of this being brought to Rome, 
 a.nd the whole looking like a prelude to future 
 attempts at popularity, the senate were greatly 
 disturbed at it. Another instance they gave of 
 their jealousy was in the ill reception which the 
 ambassadors of Micipsa found, who came to 
 acquaint them, that the king their master, out of 
 re^'ard to Caius Gracchus, had sent their general 
 in^^Sardinia a large quantity of com. The am- 
 bassadors were turned out of the house ; and the 
 senate proceeded to make a decree that the private 
 men in Sardinia should be relieved, biit that 
 Orestes should remain, in order that he might keep 
 his qusestor v/ith him. An account of this being 
 brought to Caius, his anger overcame him so far 
 that he embarked ; and as he made his appear- 
 ance in Rome when none expected him, he was 
 not only censured by his enemies, but the people 
 in general thought it singular that the qumstor ^ 
 should return before his general. An information 
 was laid against him before the censors, and he 
 obtained permission to speak for himself: which 
 he did so effectually that the whole court changed 
 their opinions, and were persuaded that he was 
 very much injured. For he told them, he had 
 served twelve campaigns, whereas he was not 
 obliged to serve more than ten; and that in 
 capacity of qusestor, he had attended his general 
 three years,* though the laws did not require him 
 to do it more than one. He added, that he was 
 the only man who went out with a full purse, and 
 returned with an empty one ; while others, after 
 having drank the wine they carried out, brought 
 back the vessels filled with gold and silver. 
 
 After this, they brought other charges against 
 him. They accused him of promoting disaffection 
 among the allies, and of being concerned in the 
 conspiracy of Fregellse,t which was detected 
 about that time. He cleared himself, however, 
 of all suspicion ; and having fully prov^ed his 
 innocence, offered himself to the people as a 
 candidate for the tribuneship. , The patrici^s 
 united their forces to oppose him; but such a 
 number of people came in from all parts of Italy 
 to support his election, that many of theni could 
 not g^et lodging, and the Campus Martins 
 being large enough to contain them, gave their 
 ; voices from the tops of houses. 
 
 All that the nobility could gam of the people, 
 
 • and all the mortification that Caius had, was this ; 
 
 ^ instead of being returned first, as he had flattered 
 
 - himself he should be, he was returned the fourth. 
 
 ) But when he had entered upon his office, he soon 
 
 1 became the leading tribune, partly by means ot 
 
 - his eloquence, in which he was greatly ^penor 
 , to the rest, and partly on account of the mis- 
 
 1 * Great part of this speech is preserved by 
 
 Aulus Gellius ; but there Cams says he had been 
 1 quaestor only two years. Biennium enim fui in 
 0 provincia. Aul. Gill. 1 . xii. c. 15. ^ ^ . 
 
 e t This place was destroyed by Lucius Opimius 
 
 the praetor, in the year of Rome 629. 
 
 * Lucius Aurelius Orestes was consul \vitl 
 Emilius Lepidus in the year of Rome 627. S( 
 that Caius went qumstor into Sardinia at the ag< 
 of 27. 
 
CAIUS GRACCHUS. 
 
 fortunes of his family, which gave him an oppor- 
 tunity to bewail the cruel fate of his brother. 
 For whatever subject he began upon, before he 
 had done he led the people back to that idea, 
 and at the same time put them in mind of the 
 different behaviour of their ancestors. *‘Your 
 forefathers,” said he, declared war against the 
 Falisci, in order to revenge the cause of Genucius, 
 one of the tribunes, to whom that people had 
 given scurrilous language ; and they thought 
 capital punishment little enough for Caius Vetu- 
 rius, because he alone did not break way for a 
 tribune who was passing through the fortim. 
 But you suffered Tiberius to be despatched with 
 bludgeons before your eyes, and his dead body to 
 be dragged fro.m the Capitol through the middle 
 of the city, in order to be thrown into the river. 
 Such of his friends, too, as fell into their hands, 
 were put to death without form of trial. Yet, by 
 the custom of our country, if any person under a 
 prosecution for a capital crime did not appear, 
 an officer was sent to his door in the morning, to 
 summon him by sound of trumpet, and the judges 
 would never pass sentence before so public a 
 citation. So tender were our ancestors in any 
 matter where the life of a citizen was con- 
 cerned.” 
 
 Haying prepared the people by such speeches 
 as this (for his voice was strong enough to be 
 heard by so great a rnultitude) he proposed two 
 laws. One was, that if the people deposed any 
 magistrate, he should from that time be incapable 
 of bearing any public office : the other, that if any 
 magistrate should banish a citizen without a legal 
 trial, the people should be authorised to take cog- 
 nizance of that offence. The first of these laws 
 plainly referred to Marcus Octavius, whom Tibe- 
 rius had deprived of the tribuneship ; and the 
 second to Popilius, who, in his prsetorship, had 
 banished the friends of Tiberius. In consequence 
 of the latter, Popilius, afraid to stand a trial, fled 
 Italy. The other bill Caius dropped, to 
 oblige, as he said, his mother Cornelia, who in- 
 terposed in behalf of Octavius. The people were 
 perfectly satisfied ; for they honoured Cornelia, 
 not only on account of her children, but of her 
 
 • u afterwards erected a statue to her 
 
 with this inscription : Cornelia the mother of 
 
 THE GRACCHI. 
 
 There are several extraordinary expressions of 
 Cams Gracchus handed down to us concerning 
 ®ne of her enemies he said, 
 
 Oarest thou pretend to reflect on Cornelia the 
 mother of Tiberius?” And as that person had 
 u youth in an infamous manner, he said. 
 
 With what front canst thou put thyself on a 
 footing with Cornelia? Hast thou brought chil- 
 dren as she has done ? Yet all Rome knows that 
 she has lived longer than thou hast without any 
 commerce with men.” Such was the keenness of 
 his language : and many expressions equally 
 severe might be collected out of his writings. 
 
 Among the laws which he procured, to increase 
 the authority of the people, and lessen that of the 
 ^^uate, one related to colonizing, and dividing the 
 public lands among the poor. Another was in 
 favour of the army, who were now to be clothed 
 at the public charge, without diminution of their 
 pay, and none were to serve till they were full 
 seventeen years old. A third was for the benefit 
 of the Italian allies, who were to have the same 
 right of voting at elections as the citizens of 
 
 573 
 
 Rome. By a fourth the markets were regulated, 
 and the poor enabled to buy bread-corn at a 
 cheaper rate. A fifth related to the courts of 
 judicature, and indeed contributed more thanany- 
 thmg to retrench the power of the senate : for, 
 before this, senators only were judges in all 
 causes, and on that account their body was for- 
 midable both to the equestrian order and to the 
 people. But now he added 300 knights to the 300 
 senators, and decreed that a judicial authority 
 should be equally invested in the 600.* In offering 
 this bill, he exerted himself greatly in all respects, 
 but there was one thing very remarkable : whereas 
 the orators before him, in all addresses to the 
 people, stood with their faces towards the senate- 
 house and the comitium, he then, for the first 
 time, turned the other way, that is to say, towards 
 the fortmt, and continued to speak in that posi- 
 tion ever after. ^ Thus, by a small alteration in 
 the posture of his bpdy, he indicated something 
 very great, and, as it were, turned the govern- 
 ment from, an aristocracy into a democratic form i 
 for, by this action, he intimated, that all orators 
 ought to address themselves to the people, and not 
 to the senate. 
 
 As the people not only ratified this law, but em- 
 powered him to select the three hundred out of the 
 equestrian order for judges, he iound himself in a 
 manner possessed of sovereign power. Even the 
 senate in their deliberations were willing to listen 
 to his advice ; and he never gave them any that 
 was not suitable to their dignity. That wise and 
 moderate decree, for instance, was of his sug- 
 gesting, concerning the corn which Fabius, when 
 proprcetor in Spain, sent from that country. 
 Cams persuaded the senate to sell the corn, and 
 send the ^oney to the Spanish states ; and at 
 the same time to censure Fabius for rendering 
 the Roman government odious and insupportable 
 to the people of that country. This gained him 
 great respect and favour in the provinces. 
 
 He procured other decrees for sending out 
 colonies, for making roads, and for building 
 public granaries. In all these matters he was 
 appointed supreme director, and yet was far from 
 thinking so much business a fatigue. On the 
 contrary, he applied to the whole with as much 
 activity, and despatched it with as much ease, as 
 if there had been only one thing for him to attend 
 to ; insomuch that they who both hated and I 
 feared the man were struck with his amazing ; 
 industry, and the celerity of his operations. I 
 The people were charmed to see him followed by 
 such numbers of architects, artificers, ambas- 
 sadors, magistrates, military men, and men of 
 letters. These _ were all kindly received ; yet 
 amidst his civilities he preserved a dignity, ad- 
 dressing each according to his capacity and 
 station : by which he showed how unjust the 
 censures of those people were who represented 
 him as a violent and overbearing man. For he 
 had even a more popular manner in conversation 
 
 * The authorities of all antiquity are against 
 Plutarch in this article. Caius did not associate 
 the knights and the senators in the judicial 
 power; but vested that power in the knights 
 only, and they employed it till the consulship of 
 Servilius Csepio, for the space of sixteen or seven- 
 teen years. Velleius, Asconius, Appian, Livy, 
 and Cicero himself, sufficiently prove this. 
 
574 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 and' in business than in his addresses from the 
 rosirtim. 
 
 The work that he took most pains with was 
 that of the public roads ; in which he paid a 
 regard to beauty as well as use. They were 
 drawn in a straight line through the country, and 
 either paved with hewn stone, or made of a bind- 
 ing sand, brought thither for that purpose. 
 When he met with dells or other deep holes 
 made by land-floods, he either filled them up 
 with rubbish, or laid bridges over them ; so that 
 being levelled and brought to a perfect parallel 
 on both sides, they afforded a regular and elegant 
 prospect through the whole. Besides, he divided 
 all the road into miles, of near eight furlongs 
 each, and set up pillars of stone to mark the 
 divisions. He likewise erected other stones at 
 proper distances on each side of the way, to 
 assist travellers, who rode without servants, to 
 mount their horses. 
 
 The people extolled his performances, and 
 there was no instance of their affection that he 
 might not have expected. In one of his speeches 
 he told them there was one thing in particular 
 which he should esteem as a greater favour than 
 all the rest, it they indulged him in it, and if 
 they denied it he would not complain. By this it 
 was imagined that he meant the consulship ; and 
 the commons expected that he would desire to be 
 consul and tribune at the same time. When the 
 day of election of consuls came, and all^ were 
 waiting with anxiety to see what declaration he 
 would make, he conducted Caius Fannius into 
 the Camptis Martins, and joined with his friends 
 in the canvass. This greatly inclined the scale on 
 Fannius’s side, and he was immediately created 
 consul. Caius, too, without the least application, 
 or even declaring himself a candidate, merely 
 through the zeal and affection of the people, was 
 appointed tribune the second time. 
 
 Finding, however, that the senate avowed their 
 aversion to him, and that the regards of Fannius 
 grew cold, he thought of new laws which might 
 secure the people in his interest. Such were 
 those for sending colonies to Tarentum _ and 
 Capua, and for granting the Latins all the rights 
 and privileges of citizens of Rome. The senate 
 now apprehending that his power would soon 
 become entirely uncontrollable, took a new and 
 unheard-of method to draw the people from him, 
 by gratifying them in everything, however con- 
 trary to the true interests of the state. 
 
 Among the colleagues of Caius Gracchus there 
 was one named Livius Drusus ; a man who in 
 birth and education was not behind any of the 
 Romans, and who in point of eloquence and 
 wealth might vie with the greatest and most 
 powerful men of his time. To^ him the nobility 
 applied ; exhorting him to set himself up against 
 Caius, and join them in opposing him ; not in the 
 way of force, or in anything that might offend 
 the commons, but in directing all his measures to 
 please them, and granting them things which it 
 would have been an honour to refuse at the 
 hazard of their utmost resentment. 
 
 Drusus agreed to list in the service of the 
 senate, and to apply all the power of his office to 
 their views. ^ He therefore proposed laws which 
 had nothing in them either honourable ©r advan- 
 tageous to the community. His sole view was to 
 outdo Caius in flattering and pleasing the multi- 
 tude, and for this purpose he contended with him 
 
 like a comedian upon a stage. Thus the senate 
 plainly discovered, that it was not so much the 
 measures of Caius, as the man, they were 
 offended with, and that they were resolved to 
 take every method to humble or destroy him. 
 For when he procured a decree for sending out 
 two colonies only, which were to consist of some 
 of the most deserving citizens, they accused him 
 of ingratiating himself by undue methods with 
 the plebeians ; but when Drusus sent out twelve, 
 and selected 300 of the meanest of the people for 
 each, they patronized the whole scheme. When 
 Caius divided the public lands among the poor 
 citizens, on condition that they should pay a 
 small rent into the treasury, they inveighed 
 against him as a flatterer of the populace; but 
 Drusus had their praise for discharging the lands 
 even of that acknowledgment. Caius procured 
 the Latins the privilege of voting as citizens of 
 Rome, and the patricians were offended ; Drusus, 
 on the contrary, was supported by them in a law 
 for exempting the Latin soldiers from being 
 flogged, though upon service, for any misde- 
 meanour. Meantime Drusus asserted, in all his 
 speeches, that the senate, in their great regard 
 for the commons, put him upon proposing such 
 advantageous decrees. This was the only good 
 thing in his manoeuvres; for by these arts the 
 people became better affected to the senate. 
 Before they had suspected and hated the leaders 
 of that body ; but Drusus appeased their resent- 
 ment, and removed their aversion, by assuring 
 them, that the patricians were the first movers of 
 all these popular laws. 
 
 What contributed most to satisfy the people as 
 to the sincerity of his regard, and the purity of 
 his intentions, was, that Drusus, in all his edicts, 
 appeared not to have the least view to his own 
 interest for he employed others as commissioners 
 for planting the new colonies ; and if there was 
 an affair of money, he would have no concern 
 with it himself ; whereas Caius chose to preside 
 in the greatest and most important matters 
 of that kind. Rubrius, one of his colleagues, 
 having procured an order for rebuilding and colo- 
 nizing Carthage, which had been destroyed by 
 Scipio, it fell to the lot of Caius to execute that 
 commission, and in pursuance thereof he sailed 
 to Africa. Drusus took advantage of his absence 
 to gain more ground upon him, and to establish 
 himself in the favour of the people. To lay an 
 information against Fulvius he thought would be 
 very conducive to this end. 
 
 Fulvius was a particular friend of Caius, and 
 his assistant in the distribution of the lands. At 
 the same time he was a factious man, and known 
 to be upon ill terms with the senate. Others, 
 besides the patricians, suspected him of raising 
 commotions among the allies, and of privately 
 exciting the Italians to a revolt. These things, 
 indeed, were said without evidence or proof ; but 
 Fulvius himself gave strength to the report by his 
 unpeaceable and unsalutary conduct. Caius, as 
 his acquaintance, came in for his share of the dis- 
 like, and this was one of the principal things that 
 brought on his ruin. ... 
 
 Besides, when Scipio Africanus died without 
 any previous sickness, and (as we have observed 
 in his life) there appeared marks of violence upon 
 his body, most people laid it to the charge of 
 Fulvius, who was his avowed enemy, and had 
 that very day abused him from the rostrum. 
 
CAI[/S GRACCHUS, 
 
 575 
 
 Nor was Caius himself unsuspected. Yet so 
 execrable a Grime as this, committed against the 
 first and greatest man in Rome, escaped with 
 impunity ; nay, it was not even inquired into : 
 for the people prevented any cognizance of it 
 from being taken, out of fear for Caius, lest upon 
 a strict inquisition he should be found accessory 
 to the murder. But this happened some time 
 before. 
 
 While Caius was employed in Africa in the re- 
 establishment of Carthage, the name of which he 
 changed to Junonia* he was interrupted by 
 several inauspicious omens. The staff of the first 
 standard was broken, between the violent efforts 
 of the wind to tear it away, and those of the 
 ensign to hold it. Another storm of wind blew 
 the sacrifices from the altars, and bore them 
 beyond the bounds marked out for the city ; and 
 the wolves came and seized the marks themselves, 
 and carried them to a great distance. Caius, 
 however, brought everything under good regula- 
 tions in the space of seventy days, and .then 
 returned to Rome, where he understood that 
 Fulvius was hard pressed by Drusus, and affairs 
 demanded his presence. For Lucius Opimius,t 
 who was of the patrician party, and very powerful 
 in the senate, had lately been unsuccessful in his 
 application for the consulship, through the op- 
 position of Caius, and his support of Fannius ; 
 but riow his interest was greatly strengthened, 
 and it was thought he would be chosen the 
 following year. It was expe':ted too, that the 
 consulship would enable him to ruin Caius, whose 
 interest was already upon the decline. Indeed, 
 by this time the people were cloyed with in- 
 dulgence ; because there were many besides 
 Caius who flattered them in all the measures of 
 administration, and the senate saw them do it 
 with pleasure. 
 
 At his return he removed his lodgings from the 
 Palatine Mount to the neighbourhood of the 
 foru7n : in which he had a view to popularity ; 
 for many of the meanest and most indigent of the 
 commonalty dwelt there. After this, he proposed 
 the rest of his laws, in order to their being ratified 
 by the suffrages of the people. As the populace 
 came to him from all quarters, the senate per- 
 suaded the consul Fannius to command all persons 
 to depart the city who were not Romans by birth. 
 Upon this strange and unusual proclamation, that 
 none of the allies or friends of the republic should 
 remain in Rome, or, though citizens, be permitted 
 to vote, Caius, in his turn, published articles of 
 impeachment against the consul, and at the same 
 time declared he would protect the allies, if they 
 would stay. He did not, however, perform his 
 promise. On the contrary, he suffered the con- 
 sul’s lictors to take away a person before his 
 eyes, who was connected with him by the ties of 
 hospitality, without giving him the least assist- 
 ance : ^yhether it was that he feared to show how 
 much his strength was diminished, or whether (as 
 
 * Quam Juno fertur terris magis omnibus unam 
 
 Posthabita coluisse samo. Virgil. 
 
 t In the printed text it is Hostilnis, but it 
 should be O^imius : for he was consul the year 
 following with Q. Fabius hlaximus, which was 
 the year of Rome 631 . Plutarch himself calls 
 him Opimius a little after. Hostilius, therefore, 
 must be a false reading ; and, indeed, one of the 
 manuscripts gives us Ophnius here. 
 
 he alleged) he did not choose to give his enemies 
 occasion to have recourse to the sword, who only 
 sought a pretence for it. 
 
 He happened, moreover, to be at variance with 
 his colleagues. The reason was this : there was 
 a show of gladiators to be exhibited to the people 
 in the for^im, and most of the magistrates had 
 caused scaffolds to be erected around the place, 
 in order to let them out for hire. Caius insisted 
 that they should be taken down, that the poor 
 might see the exhibition without paying for it. 
 As none of the proprietors regarded his orders, 
 he waited till the night preceding the show, and 
 then went with his own workmen, and demolished 
 the scaffolds. Next day the populace saw the 
 place quite clear of them, and of course they 
 admired him as a man of superior spirit. But 
 his colleagues were greatly offended at his violent 
 temper and measures. This seems to have been 
 the cause of his miscarriage in his application for 
 a third tribuneship ; for, it seems, he had a 
 majority of voices, but his colleagues are said to 
 have procured a fraudulent and unjust return. 
 Be that as it may (for it was a matter of some 
 doubt), it is certain that he did not bear his dis- 
 appointment with patience ; but v/hen he saw his 
 adversaries laugh, he told them, with too much 
 insolence, their laugh was of the Sardonic * kind, 
 for they did not perceive how much their actions 
 were eclipsed by his. 
 
 After Opimius was elected consul, he prepared 
 to repeal many of Caius’s laws, and to annul his 
 establishment at Carthage, on purpose to pro- 
 voke him to some act of violence, and to gain an 
 opportunity to destroy him. He bore this treat- 
 ment for some time ; but afterwards, at the 
 instigation of his friends, and of Fulvius in par- 
 ticular, he began to raise an opposition once more 
 against the consul. Some say, his mother on 
 this occasion entered into the intrigues of the 
 party, and having privately taken some strangers 
 into pay, sent them into Rome in the disguise of 
 reapers ; and they assert that these things are 
 enigmatically hinted at in her letters to her son. 
 But others say, Cornelia was much displeased at 
 these measures. 
 
 When the day came on which Opimius was to 
 get those laws repealed, both parties early in the 
 morning posted themselves in the Capitol ; and 
 after the consul had sacrificed, Quintus Antyllius, 
 one^of his lictors, who was carrying out the 
 entrails of the victims, said to Fulvius and his 
 friends, “Stand off, ye factious citizens, and make 
 way for honest men.” Some add, that, along 
 with this scurrilous language, he stretched his 
 naked arm towards them in a form that expressed 
 the utmost contempt. They immediately killed 
 
 * It was not easy to see the propriety of this 
 expression as it is used here. The Sardonic laugh 
 was an involuntary distension of the muscles of 
 the mouth, occasioned by a poisonous plant ; and 
 persons that died of this poison had a smile on 
 their countenances. Hence it came to signify 
 forced or affected laughter ; but why the laughter 
 of Gracchus’s opponents should be called forced 
 or Sardonic, because they did not perceive his 
 superiority, it does not appear. It might more 
 properly have been called affected if they did 
 perceive it. Indeed, if every species of unreason- 
 able laughing may be called Sardonic, it will do 
 still. 
 
576 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 Antyllius with long styles, said to have been made : 
 for such a purpose. ^ _ ' 
 
 The people were much chagrined at this act of 
 violence. As for the two chiefs, they made very 
 different reflections upon the event. _ Caius was 
 concerned at it, and reproached his partisans 
 with having given their enemies the handle they 
 long had wanted. Opimius rejoiced at the op- 
 portunity, and excited the people to revenge. 
 But for the present they were parted by a heavy 
 rain. 
 
 At an early hour next day, the consul assem- 
 bled the senate, and while he was addressing 
 them within, others exposed the corpse of Antyl- 
 lius naked on a bier without, and, as it had been 
 previously concerted, carried it through the 
 forum to the senate-house, making loud accla- 
 mations all the way. Opimius knew the whole 
 farce, but pretended to be much surprised. The 
 senate went out, and planting themselves about 
 the corpse, expressed their grief and indignation, 
 as if some dreadful mi.sfortune had befallen them. 
 
 ' This scene, however, excited only hatred and 
 detestation in the breasts of the people, who 
 could not but remember that the nobility had 
 killed Tiberius Gracchus in the Capitol, though a 
 tribune, and thrown his body into the river ; and 
 yet, now, when Antyllius, a vile serjeant, who 
 possibly did not deserve quite so severe a punish- 
 ment, but by his impertinence had brought it 
 upon himself— when such a hireling lay exposed 
 in the forui 7 i, the senate of Rome stood weeping 
 about him, and then attended the wretch to his 
 funeral ; with no other view than to procure the 
 death of the only remaining protector of the 
 people. 
 
 On their return to the house, they charged 
 Opimius the consul, by a formal decree, to take 
 every possible method for the preservation of 
 the commonwealth, and the destruction of the 
 tyrants. He therefore ordered the patricians to 
 arms, and each of the knights to attend with two 
 servants well armed the next morning. Fulvius, 
 on the other hand, prepared himself, and drew 
 together a crowd of people. 
 
 Caius, as he returned from the fo7 ttm, stood a 
 long time looking upon his father’s statue, and 
 after having given vent to his sorrow in some 
 sighs and tears, retired without uttering a word. 
 Many of the plebeians, who saw this, were 
 moved with compassion ; and, declaring they 
 should be the most dastardly of beings if they 
 abandoned such a man to his enemies, repaired to 
 his house to guard him, and passed the night 
 before his door. This they did in a very different 
 manner from the people who attended Fulvius on 
 the same occasion. These passed their time in 
 noise and riot, in carousing and empty threats ; 
 Fulvius himself being the first man that was intoxi- 
 cated, and giving in to man^'- expressions and actions 
 unsuitable to his years. But those about Caius 
 were silent, as in a time of public calamity ; and, 
 with a thoughtful regard to what^ was yet to 
 come, they kept watch and took rest by turns. 
 
 Fulvius slept so sound after his wine, that it 
 was with difficulty they awoke him at break 
 of day. Then he and his company armed them- 
 selves with the Gallic spoils which he had 
 brought off in his consulship, upon his conquering 
 that people ; and thus accoutred they sallied out, 
 with loud menaces, to seize the Aventine hill. 
 As for Caius, he would not. arm, but went out 
 
 in his gown, as if he had been going upon busi* 
 ness in the foritm ; only he had a small dagger 
 under it. 
 
 At the gate, his wife threw herself at his feet, 
 and taking hold of him with one hand, and of her 
 son with the other, she thus expressed herself : 
 
 “ You do not now leave me, my dear Caius, as 
 formerly, to go to the rostra, in capacity of 
 tribune or lawgiver, nor do I send you out to a 
 glorious war, where, if the common lot fell to 
 your share, my distress might at least have the 
 consolation of honour. You expose yourself to 
 the murderers of Tiberius, unarmed, indeed, as a 
 man should go, who had rather suffer than com- 
 mit any violence ; but it is throwing away your 
 life without any advantage to the community. 
 Faction reigns ; outrage and the sword are the only 
 measures of justice. Had your brother fallen 
 before Numantia, the truce would have restored 
 us his body ; but now perhaps I shall have to go 
 a suppliant to some river or the sea, to be shown 
 wher.e your remains may be found. For what 
 confidence can we have either in the laws or in 
 the gods after the assassination of Tiberius ? ” 
 When Licinia had poured out these ^ lamen- 
 tations, Caius disengaged himself as quietly as 
 he could from her arms, and walked on with his 
 friends in deep silence. She caught at his gown, 
 but in the attempt fell to the ground, and lay a 
 long time speechless. At last her servants seeing 
 her in that condition, took her up, and carried 
 her to her brother Crassus. 
 
 Fulvius, when all the party was assembled, 
 listened to the advice of Caius, and sent his 
 younger son into the foru7it, equipped like a 
 herald.* He was a youth of niost engaging 
 appearance, and he approached with great mo- 
 desty, and tears in his eyes, to propose terms of 
 accommodation to the consul and the senate. 
 Many were disposed to hearken to the proposal ; 
 but Opimius said, the criminals ought not to treat 
 by heralds, but come in person to make their 
 submission to the senate, and surrender them- 
 selves to justice, before they interceded for mercy. 
 At the same time, he bade the young man 
 return with an account that these conditions were 
 complied with, or not return at all. 
 
 Caius was of opinion that they should go and 
 endeavour to reconcile themselves to the senate.* 
 But as none of the rest acceded to that opinion, 
 Fulvius sent his son again with propositions 
 much the same. Opimius, who was in haste to 
 begin hostilities, immediately took the young 
 man into custody, and marched against Fulvius 
 with a numerous body of infantry, and a com- 
 pany of Cretan archers. The latter galled their 
 adversaries much, and put them in such confusion 
 that they took to flight. Fulvius hid himself in an 
 old neglected bath, where he was soon found and 
 put to the sword, together with his_ eldest son. 
 Caius was not seen to lift his hand in the fray. 
 On the contrary, he expressed the greatest uneasi- 
 ness at their coming to such extremities, and 
 retired into the temple of Diana. There he 
 would have despatched himself, but was hin- 
 dered by Pomponius and Licinius, the most 
 faithful of his friends, who took away his 
 poniard, and persuaded him to try the alternative 
 of flight. On this occasion he is said to have 
 
 * Literally, with a caduceus, or heralcTs 
 wa7id m his ha7id. 
 
CAIUS GRACCHUS, 
 
 577 
 
 kneeled down, and with uplifted hands to have 
 prayed to the deity of that temple, that the 
 people of Rome, for their ingratitude and base 
 desertion of him, might be slaves for ever. In- 
 deed, most of them, on promise of impunity by 
 proclamation, openly T^'ent over to the other 
 party. 
 
 The enemy pursued Caius with great eagerness, 
 and came up with him at the wooden bridge. 
 His two friends bidding him go forward, planted 
 themselves before it, and suffered no man 
 to pass till they were overpowered and slain. 
 One of his servants, named Philocrates, accom- 
 panied Caius in his flight. All encouraged him 
 to make the best of his way, as they do a runner 
 in the lists, but not one assisted him, or offered 
 him a horse, though he desired it, for they saw the 
 enemy now almost upon him.* He got, how- 
 ever, a little before them, into a grove sacred to 
 the foiriesA and there closed the scene ; Philo- 
 crates first despatched him, and afterwards him- 
 self. ^ Some, indeed, say, that they both came 
 alive into the enemy’s hands, and that the slave 
 clung so close to his master that they could not 
 come to the one till they had cut the other in 
 pieces. We are told also, that after a person, 
 whose name is not mentioned, had cut oflf the 
 head of Caius, and was bearing away his prize, 
 Septimuleius, one ofj Opimius’s friends, took it 
 from him : for at the beginning of the action, the 
 weight in gold had been offered by proclamation 
 either for his head, or for that of Fulvius. Septi- 
 niuleius carried it to Opimius upon the point of a 
 pike ; and when put in the scale, it was found to 
 weigh seventeen pounds eight ounces : for Septi- 
 muleius had added fraud to his other villainies ; 
 he had taken out the brain, and filled the cavity 
 with molten lead. Those who brought in the 
 head of Fulvius, being persons of no note, had 
 no reward at all. 
 
 The bodies of Caius and Fulvius, and the 
 rest of the slain, who were no fewer than 3000, 
 were thrown into the river. Their goods were 
 confiscated and sold, and their wives forbid- 
 den to go into mourning, Licinia was, more- 
 over, deprived of her dowry. The most savage 
 cruelty was exercised upon the younger son of 
 Fulvius, who had never borne arms against them, 
 nor appeared among the combatants, but was 
 imprisoned when he came with proposals of peace, 
 and put to death after the battle. But neither 
 
 * Aurelius Victor mentions two of Caius’s 
 friends who stopped the pursuit of the enemy ; 
 Pomponius, at the Porta Trigemina, and Lseto- 
 rius, at the Pons Stcblicius. 
 
 t This grove was called Lucus FurincB, and 
 was near the Potts Sublicius. The goddess had 
 a high priest called Flamin Furinalis, and 
 Jinnual sacrifices. Verko, de Ling. 1. v. 
 
 t Pliny and Valerius Maximus say, he was an 
 intimate acquaintance of Gracchus’s. 
 
 this, nor any other instance of despotism, so 
 sensibly touched the people, as Opimius’s build- 
 ing a temple to Concord. For by that he ap- 
 peared to claim honour for what he had done, and 
 in some sort to triumph in the destruction of so 
 many citizens. Somebody, therefore, in the night, 
 wrote this line under the inscription on the temple : 
 
 Madness and Discord rear, the fane of Concord. 
 
 Opimius was the first consul who usurped the 
 power of a dictator, and condemned 3000 citi- 
 zens, without any form of justice, besides Caius 
 Gracchus and Fulvius Flaccus ; though one 
 of them had been honoured with the consulship 
 and a triumph, and the other both in virtue and 
 reputation was superior to all the men of his time. 
 
 Opimius was vile enough to suffer himself to be 
 corrupted with money. Going afterwards ambas- 
 sador to Jugurthathe Numidian, he took a bribe ; 
 and being called to account for it at his return, in 
 a judicial way, he had the mortification to grow 
 old with that infamy upon him. At the same time 
 he was hated and execrated by the commons, who 
 through his means had been reduced to an abject 
 condition. In a little time those commons showed 
 how deeply they regretted the Gracchi. They 
 erected their statues in one of the most public 
 parts of the city ; they consecrated the places 
 where they were killed, and offered to them -all 
 first-fruits according to the season of the year. 
 Nay, many offered daily sacrifices, and paid their 
 devotions there as in the temples of gods. 
 
 Cornelia is reported to have borne all these mis- 
 fortunes with a noble magnanimity, and to have 
 said of the consecrated places in particular, where 
 her sons lost their lives, that they were monu- 
 ments worthy of them. She took up her residence 
 at Misenum, and made no alteration in her manner 
 of living. As she had many friends, her table 
 was always open for the purposes of hospitality. 
 Greeks and other men of letters she had always 
 with her, and all the kings in alliance with Rome 
 expressed their regard by sending her presents, 
 and receiving the like civilities in return. She 
 made herself very agreeable to her guests by 
 acquainting them with many particulars of her 
 father Africanus, and of his manner of living. 
 But what they most admired in her was, that she 
 could speak of her sons without a sigh or a tear, 
 and recount their actions and sufferings, as if she 
 had been giving a narrative of some ancient heroes. 
 Some, therefore, imagined that age and the great- 
 ness of her misfortunes had deprived her o. her 
 understanding and sensibility. But those who 
 were of that opinion seem rather to have wanted 
 understanding themselves ; since they knew not 
 how much a noble mind may, by a liberal educa- 
 tion, be enabled to support itself against distress ; 
 and that though in the pursuit of rectitude For- 
 tune may often defeat the purposes of Virtue, 
 yet Virtue, in bearing affliction, can never lose 
 her prerogative. 
 
 7T 
 
578 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 AGIS AND CLEOMENES COMPARED WITH TIBERIUS AND 
 CAIUS GRACCHUS. 
 
 Thus we have given the history of these gi-eat 
 men severally, and it remains that we take a view 
 of them in compaiison with each other. Those 
 who hated the Gracchi, and endeavoured the most 
 to disparage them, never durst deny, that of all the 
 Romans of their time, nature had disposed them 
 most happily to virtue, or that this disposition 
 was cultivated by the most excellent education. 
 But nature appears to have done still more for 
 Agis and Cleomenes ; for though they not only 
 wanted the advantages of education, but were 
 trained to such manners and customs as had cor- 
 rupted many before them, yet they became ex- 
 amples of temperance and sobriety. 
 
 Besides, the Gracchi lived at a time when Rome 
 was in her greatest glory ; a time that was dis- 
 tinguished by a virtuous emulation ; and of course 
 they must have had a natural aversion to give up 
 the inheritance of virtue which they had received 
 from their ancestors. Whereas Agis and Cleo- 
 meites had parents of very different principles, 
 and found their country in a very diseased and 
 unhappy state ; and yet these things did not in 
 the least abate their ardour in the pursuits of 
 honour. 
 
 We have a strong proof of the disinterested 
 views of the Gracchi, and their aversion to 
 avarice, in their keeping themselves clear of all 
 iniquitous practices in the whole course of their 
 administration. But Agis might even have re- 
 sented it, if any one had commended him for not 
 touching the property of others, since he dis- 
 tributed his Whole substance among the citizens of 
 Sparta, which, besides other considerable articles, 
 consisted of 600 talents in money. What a crime 
 then must unjust gain have appeared to him, who 
 thought it nothing less than avarice to possess 
 more than others, though by the fairest title ? 
 
 If we consider them with respect to the hardi- 
 ness of their enterprises, and the new regulations 
 they wanted to establish, we ^hall find the two 
 Grecians greatly superior. One of the two Ro- 
 mans applied himself principally to making roads 
 and colonizing towns. The boldest attempt of 
 Tiberius was the distribution of the public lands ; 
 and Caius did nothing more extraordinary than 
 the joining an equal number of the equestrian 
 order in commission with the 300 patrician judges. 
 
 The alterations \\^ich Agis and Cleomenes 
 brought into the system of their commonwealth 
 were of a different nature. They saw that a small 
 and partial amendment was no better, as Plato 
 expresses it, than the cutting off one of the 
 Hydra’s heads ; * and therefore they introduced 
 a change that might remove all the distempers of 
 the constitution at once. Perhaps we may express 
 ourselves with more propriety, if we say, that, by 
 removing the changes that had caused all their 
 misfortunes, they brought Sparta back to its first 
 principles. 
 
 Possibly it may not be amiss to add, that the 
 measures the Gracchi adopted were offensive to 
 
 * In the fourth book of the Commonwealth. 
 
 the greatest men in Rome ; * whereas, all that 
 Agis meditated, and Cleomenes brought to bear, 
 had the best and most respectable authorities to 
 support it, I mean the sanction either of Lycurgus 
 or Apollo. 
 
 What is still more considerable, by the political 
 measures of the Gracchi Rome made not the least 
 acquisition of power or territory ; whereas, through 
 those of Cleomenes, Greece saw the Spartans in 
 a little time become masters of Peloponnesus, and 
 contending for superiority with the most powerful 
 princes of that age ; and this without any other 
 view than to deliver Greece from the incursions 
 of the Illyrians and Gauls, and put her once more 
 under protection of the race of Hercules. 
 
 The different manner of the deaths of these great 
 men appears also to me to point out a difference 
 in their characters. The Gracchi fought with 
 their fellow-citizens, and being defeated, perished 
 in their flight. Agis, on the other hand, fell 
 almost a voluntary sacrifice, rather than that any 
 Spartan should lose his life on his account. Cleo- 
 menes, when insulted and oppressed, had recourse 
 to vengeance ; and, as circumstances did not favour 
 him, had courage enough to give himself the fatal 
 blow. 
 
 If we view them in another light, Agis never 
 distinguished himself as a general ; for he was 
 killed before he had any opportunity of that kind : 
 and with the many great and glorious victories of 
 Cleomenes we may compare the memorable exploit 
 of Tiberius, in being the first to scale the walls of 
 Carthage, and his saving 20,000 Romans, who 
 had no other hope of life, by the peace which he 
 happily concluded with the Numantians. As for 
 Caius, there were many instances of his military 
 talents both in the Numantian war, and in Sar- 
 dinia. So that the two brothers would probably 
 one day have been ranked with the greatest 
 generals among the Romans, had they not come 
 to an untimely death. 
 
 As to their political abilities, Agis seems to have 
 wanted firmness and despatch. He suffered him- 
 self to be imposed upon by Agesilaus, and per- 
 formed not his promise to the citizens of making 
 a distribution of lands. He was, indeed, ex- 
 tremely young ; and, on that account, had a 
 timidity which prevented the completion of those 
 schemes that had so much raised the expectation 
 of the public. Cleomenes, on the contrary, took 
 too bold and too violent a method to effectuate 
 the changes he had resolved on in the police of 
 Sparta. It was an act of injustice to put the 
 ephori to death, whom he might either have 
 brought over to his party by force, because he 
 
 * Plutarch seems to censure the Agrarian law 
 as an irrational one, and as the invention of the 
 Gracchi. But, in fact, there was an Agrarian 
 law among the institutions of Lycurgus ; and the 
 Gracchi were not the first promoters of such a 
 law among the Romans. Spurius Cassius offered 
 a bill of the same kind above 200 years before, 
 which proved equally fatal to him. 
 
DEMOSTHENES. 
 
 579 
 
 was superior in arms, or else have banished, as 
 he did many others. For, to have recourse to the 
 knife, except in cases of extreme necessity, indi- 
 cates neither the good physician nor the able 
 statesman, but imskilfulness in both. Besides, in 
 politics, that ignorance is always attended with 
 injustice and cruelty. But neither of the Gracchi 
 began the civil war, or dipped his hands in the i 
 blood of his countrymen. Caius, we are told, I 
 even when attacked, did not repel force with 
 force ; and, though none behaved Avath greater 
 courage and vigour than he in other wars, none 
 was so slow to lift up his hand against a fellow- 
 citizen. He went out unarmed to a scene of fury 
 and sedition ; when the fight began, he retired ; 
 and, through the whole, appeared more sohcitous 
 to avoid the doing of harm than the receiving it. 
 The flight, therefore, of the Gracchi must not be 
 considered as an act of cowardice, but patriotic 
 discretion. For they were imder a necessity 
 either of taking the method they did, or of fight- 
 ing in their own defence if they stayed. 
 
 The strongest charge against Tiberius is, that 
 he deposed his colleague, and sued for a second 
 tribuneship. Caius was blamed for the death of 
 Antyllius ; but against all reason and justice ; for 
 the fact was committed udthout his approbation, 
 and he looked upon it as a most unhappy circum- 
 stance. On the other hand, Cleomenes, not to 
 mention any more his destroying the ephori, took 
 an unconstitutional step in enfranchising ail the 
 slaves ; and, in reality, he reigned alone, though, 
 to save appearances, he took in his brother Eucli- 
 das as a partner in the throne, who was not of the 
 other family that claimed a right to give one of 
 the kings to Sparta. Archidamus, who was of 
 that family, and had as much right to the throne, 
 he persuaded to return from Messene. In conse- 
 quence of this he was assassinated ; and, as 
 Cleomenes made no inquiry into the murder, it is 
 
 ^ probable that he was justly censured as the cause 
 j of it. Whereas, Lycurgus, whom he pretended 
 to take as his pattern, freely surrendered to his 
 , nephew Charilaus the kingdom committed to his 
 j charge ; and that he might not be blamed in case 
 ! of his untimely death, he went abroad and wan- 
 dered a long time in foreign coimtries ; nor did he 
 return till ChariHus had a son to succeed him in 
 the thione. It is true, Greece had not produced 
 any other man who can be compared to Lycurgus. 
 
 ^Ve have shown that Cleomenes, in the course 
 of his government, brought in greater innovations, 
 and committed more violent acts of injustice. 
 And those that are incHned to censure the persons 
 of whom w'e are writing, represent Cleomenes as, 
 from the first, of a tj’^rannical disposition, and a 
 lover of war. The Gracchi they accuse of im- 
 moderate ambition, malignity itself not being able 
 to find any other flaw in them. At the same time 
 they acknowledge that those tribunes mighCpos- 
 sibly be carried beyond the dictates of their native 
 disposition by anger, and the heat pf contention, 
 w'hich, like so many hurricanes, drove them at 
 last upon some extremes in their administration. 
 What could be more just or meritorious than 
 their first design, to ivhich they would have ad- 
 hered, had not the rich and great, by the \iolent 
 methods they took to abrogate their law% involved 
 them both in those fatal quarrels ; the one to 
 defend himself, and the other to revenge his 
 brother, who was taken off wdthout any form of 
 law and justice. 
 
 From these observations, you may easily per- 
 ceive the difference between them ; and, if you 
 required me to characterize each of them singly, 
 
 I should say that the palm of virtue belongs to 
 Tiberius : young Agis had the fewest faults , and 
 Caius, in point of courage and spirit of enterprise, 
 was little inferior to Cleomenes. 
 
 DEMOSTHENES. 
 
 Whoever it \vas, my Sossius, that ’^vrote the 
 encomium upon Alcibiades for his victory in the 
 chariot-race at the Olympic games ; whether 
 Euripides (which is the common opinion), or some 
 other, he ^serts, that “The first requisite to 
 happiness is, that a man be born in a famous 
 city.’] But, as to real happiness, wEich consists 
 principally in the disposition and habit of the 
 mind, for my part I think it would make no 
 difference though a man should be bom in an 
 inconsiderable to^vn, or of a mother wEo had no 
 advantages either of size or beaut3^ ; for it is 
 ridiculous to suppose that Julis, a small town in 
 the isle of Ceos, wEich is itself not great, and 
 riEgina, which an Athenian w^anted to have 
 taken away, as an eyesore to the Piraeus, should 
 give birth to good poets and players,* and not be 
 able to produce a man who might attain the 
 vhtues of justice, of contentment, and of magna- 
 nimity. Indeed, those arts, which are to gain the 
 master of them considerable profit or honour, 
 may probably not flourish in mean and insig- 
 nificant towns._ But virtue, like a strong and 
 hardy plant, will take root in any place where it 
 
 * The poet Simonides was of Ceos : and Polus 
 the actor was of .^gina. 
 
 can find an ingenuous nature and a mind that has 
 no aversion to laboiu* and discipline. Therefore, 
 if our sentiments or conduct fall short of the 
 point they ought to reach, we must not impute it 
 to the obscurity of the place where we were bora, 
 but to our little selves. 
 
 These reflections, however, extend not to an 
 author who would write a history of events which 
 happened in a foreign countrj', and cannot be 
 come at in his own. As he has materials to 
 collect from a variety of books dispersed in 
 different libraries, his &st care should be to take 
 up his residence in some populous town which 
 has an ambition for hterature. There he will 
 meet with many curious and valuable books ; and 
 the particulars that are wanting in waiters he 
 may, upon inquiry, be supplied with by those who 
 have laid them up in the faithful repository of 
 memo^. _ This will prevent his work Irom being 
 defective in any material point. As to myself, I 
 live in a little town, and I choose to hve there, 
 lest it should become still less. ^Vhen I was in 
 Rome, and other parts of Italy, I had not leisure 
 to study the Latin tongue, on account of the 
 public commissions with which I was charged, 
 and the number of people tha t came to be 
 instructed by me in philosophy. It was not. 
 
PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 580 
 
 therefore, till a late period in life, that I began 
 to read the Roman authors. The process may 
 seem strange ; and yet it is very true. I did not 
 so much gain the knowledge of things by the 
 words, as words by the knowledge I had of things. 
 
 I shall only add, that, to attain such a skill in the 
 language as to be master of the beauty and 
 fluency of its expressions, with its figures, its 
 harmony, and all the other graces of its structure, 
 would indeed be an elegant and agreeable accom- 
 plishment. But the practice and pains it requires 
 are more than I have time for, and I must leave 
 the ambition to excel in that walk to younger 
 men. 
 
 We shall now give the lives_ of Demosthenes 
 and Cicero, and from their actions and political 
 conduct collect and compare their manners and 
 disposition ; but, for the reasoii already assigned, 
 we shall not pretend to examine their orations, 
 or to determine which of them was the more 
 agreeable speaker ; for, as Ion says — 
 
 What’s the gay dolphin when he quits the waves. 
 And bounds upon the shore ? 
 
 Cmcilius,* a writer at all times much too pre- 
 sumptuous, paid little regard to that maxim of 
 the poet’s, when he so boldly attempted a com- 
 parison between Demosthenes and Cicero. But 
 perhaps the precept. Know thyself, w'ould not be 
 considered as divine, if every man could easily 
 reduce it to practice. 
 
 It seems to me that Demosthenes and Cicero 
 were originally formed by nature in the same 
 mould, so great is the resemblance in their dis- 
 position. The same ambition, the same love of 
 liberty, appears in their whole administration, 
 and the same timidity amidst wars and dangers. 
 Nor did they less resemble each other in their 
 fortunes. For I think it is impossible to find two 
 other orators who raised themselves from obscure 
 beginnings to such authority and power ; who 
 both opposed kings and tyrants ; who both lost 
 their daughters ; were banished their country, 
 and returned with honour ; were forced to fly 
 again ; were taken by their enernies, and at last 
 expired the same hour with the liberties of their 
 country. So that, if nature and fortune, like two 
 artificers, were to descend upon the scene, and 
 dispute about their work, it would be difficult to 
 decide whether the former had produced a greater 
 resemblance in their dispositions, or the latter in 
 the circumstances of their lives. We shall begin 
 with the more ancient. 
 
 Demosthenes, the father of Demosthenes, was 
 one of the principal citizens of Athens. Theo- 
 pompus tells us, he was called the sword-cutler, 
 because he employed a great number of slaves in 
 that business. As to what iEschines the orator 
 orelates concerning his mother,! that she was the 
 daughter of one Gy Ion, f who was forced to fly 
 
 * Csecilius was a celebrated rhetorician, who 
 lived in the time of Augustus. He wrote a 
 treatise on the sublime, which is mentioned by 
 Longinus. 
 
 t In his oration against Cte siphon. 
 
 i Gylon was accused of betraying to the enemy 
 a town in Pontus called Nymph^um ; upon which 
 he fled into Scythia, where he married a native of 
 the country, and had two daughters by her ; one 
 of whom was married to Philocares, and the 
 other, named Cleobule, to Demosthenes. Her 
 
 for treason against the commonwealth, and of a 
 barbarian woman, we cannot take upon us to say 
 whether it was dictated by truth, or by falsehood 
 and malignity. He had a large fortune left him 
 by his father, who died when he was only seven 
 years of age ; the whole being estimated at little 
 less than fifteen talents. But he was greatly 
 wronged by his guardians, who converted part to 
 their own use, and suffered part to lie neglected. 
 Nay, they were vile enough to defraud his tutors 
 of their salaries. This was the chief reason that 
 he had not those advantages of education to 
 which his quality entitled him. His mother did 
 not choose that he should 4^6 put to hard and 
 laborious exercises, on account of the weakness 
 and delicacy of his frame ; and his preceptors, 
 being ill paid, did not press him to attend them. 
 Indeed, from the first, he was of a slender and 
 sickly habit, insomuch that the boys are said to 
 have given him the contemptuous name of 
 Batalus^ for his natural defects. Some say, 
 Batalus was an effeminate musician, whom An- 
 tiphanes ridiculed in one of his farces ; others, 
 that he was a poet whose verses were of the most 
 wanton and licentious kind. The Athenians, too, 
 at that time, seem to have called a part of the 
 body Batalus, which decency forbids us to name. 
 We are told, that Demosthenes had likewise the 
 name of Argas, either on account of the savage 
 and morose turn of his behaviour ; for there is a 
 sort of a serpent which some of the poets call 
 Argas; t or else for the severity of his expressions, 
 which often gave his hearers pain ; for there was 
 a poet named Argas, whose verses^ were very 
 keen and satirical. But enough of this article. 
 
 His ambition to speak in public is said to have 
 taken its rise on this occasion. The orator Callis- 
 tratus was to plead in the cause which the city of 
 Oropus X had depending ; and the expectation of 
 the public was greatly raised both by the powers 
 of the orator, which were then in the highest 
 repute, and by the importance of the trial. 
 Demosthenes hearing the governors and tutors 
 agree among themselves to attend the trial, with 
 much importunity prevailed on his master to take 
 him to hear the pleadings. The master having 
 some acquaintance with the officers who opened 
 the court, got his young pupil a seat where he 
 could hear the orators without being seeii. _ Callis- 
 tratus had great success, and his abilities were 
 extremely admired. Demosthenes was fired with 
 a spirit of emulation. When he saw with what 
 
 fortune was fifty jnincB ; and of this marriage 
 came Demosthenes the orator. 
 
 Hesychius gives a different explanation of 
 the word Batalus; but Plutarch must be allowed, 
 though Dacier will not here allow him, to under- 
 stand the sense of the Greek word as well as 
 Hesychius. 
 
 t Hippocrates, too, mentions a serpent of that 
 name. 
 
 X Oropus was a town on the banks of the Euri- 
 pus, on the frontiers of Attica. The Thebans, 
 though they had been relieved in their distress by 
 Chabrias and the Athenians, forgot their former 
 services, and took Oropus from them. Chabrias 
 was suspected of treachery, and Callistratus, the 
 orator, was retained to plead against him. De- 
 mosthenes mentions this in his oration against 
 Phidias. At the time of this trial he was about 
 sixteen. 
 
DEMOSTHENES. 
 
 581 
 
 distinction the orator was conducted home, and 
 complimented by the people, he was struck stiU 
 more with the power of that commanding elo- 
 quence which could carry all before it. From 
 this time, therefore, he bade adieu to the other 
 studies and exercises in which boys are engaged, 
 and applied himself with great assiduity to de- 
 claiming, in hopes of being one day numbered 
 among the orators. Isseus was a man he made 
 use of as his preceptor in eloquence, though 
 Isocrates then taught it ; whether it was that the 
 loss of his father incapacitated him to pay the 
 sum of ten mmce,^ which was that rhetorician’s 
 usual price, or whether he preferred the keen and 
 subtle manner of Isaeus, as more fit for public 
 use. 
 
 Hermippus says he met with an account in 
 certain anonymous memoirs that Demosthenes 
 likewise studied under Plato,! and received great 
 assistance from him in preparing to speak in 
 public. He adds, that Ctesibius used to say, 
 that Demosthenes was privately supplied by 
 Callias the Syracusan, and some others, with the 
 systems of rhetoric taught by Isocrates and Al- 
 cidamus, and made his advantage of them. 
 
 When his minority was expired, he called his 
 guardians to account at law, and wrote orations 
 ag^st them. As they found many methods of 
 chicane and delay, he had great opportunity, as 
 Thucydides says, to exercise his talent for the 
 bar.J It was not without much pains and some 
 risk that he gained his cause ; and, at last, it was 
 but a very small part of his patrimony that he 
 could recover. By this means, however, he ac- 
 quired a proper assurance and some experience ; 
 and having tasted the honour and power that go 
 in the train of eloquence, he attempted to speak 
 in the public debates, and take a share in the 
 administration. As it is said of Laomedon the 
 Orchomenian, that, by the advice of his physi- 
 cians, in some disorder of the spleen, he applied 
 himself to running, and continued it constantly a 
 great length of way, till he had gained such 
 excellent health and breath, that he tried for the 
 crown at the public games, and distinguished 
 
 * This could not be the reason, if what is 
 recorded in the Life of Isaeus be true, that he was 
 retained as tutor to Demosthenes at the price of 
 100 mijice. 
 
 t This is confirmed by Cicero in his Brutus. 
 Lectitavisse Platojiem studiose, audivisse eiiayn 
 Demosthenes dicitur : Idque apparet ex genere 
 et grandiiate verbor-imi. Again, in his book 
 Oratore : Quod idetn de Deniostheyie existimari 
 potest, cujtis ex epistolis hitelligi licet qtiam 
 frequetis Jiierit Platonis auditor. It is possible 
 
 that Cicero in this place alludes to that letter of 
 Demosthenes addressed to Heracliodoras, in 
 which he thus speaks of Plato’s philosophy. 
 “ Since you have espoused the doctrine of Plato, 
 which is so distant from avarice, from artifice 
 and violence ; a doctrine whose object is the 
 perfection of goodness and justice ! Immortal 
 gods ! when once a man has adopted this doctrine, 
 is it possible he should deviate from truth, or 
 entertain one selfish or ungenerous sentiment?” 
 
 1 He lost his father at the age of seven, and he 
 was ten years in the hands of guardians. He 
 therefore began to plead in his eighteenth year, 
 which, as it was only in his own private affairs, 
 was not forbidden by the laws. 
 
 himself in the long course : so it happened to 
 Demosthenes, that he first appeared at the bar 
 for the recovery of his own fortune, which had 
 been so much embezzled ; and having acquired 
 in that cause a persuasive and powerful manner of 
 speaking, he contested the crown, as I may call 
 it, with the other orators before the general 
 assembly. 
 
 However, in his first address to the people, he 
 was laughed at and interrupted by their clamours ; 
 for the violence of his manner threw him into a 
 confusion of periods, and a distortion of his argu- 
 ment. Besides, he had a weakness and a stam- 
 mering in his voice, and a want of breath, which 
 caused such a distraction in his discourse, that it 
 was difficult for the audience to understand him. 
 At last, upon his quitting the assembly, Eunomus 
 the Thriasian, a man now extremely old, found 
 him wandering in a dejected condition in the 
 Piraeus, and took upon him to set him right. 
 “You, ’’said he, “have a manner of speaking 
 very like that .of Pericles ; and yet you lose 
 yourself out of mere timidity and cowardice. 
 You neither bear up against the tumults of a 
 popular assembly, nor prepare your body by 
 exercise for the labour of the rostruvi, but suffer 
 your parts to wither away in negligence and 
 indolence.” 
 
 Another time, we are told, when his speeches 
 had been ill received, and he was going home 
 with his head covered, and in the greatest distress, 
 Satyrus the player, who was an acquaintance of 
 his, followed, and went in with him : Demos- 
 thenes lamented to him, that, though he was the 
 most laborious of all the orators, and had almost 
 sacrificed his health to that application, yet he 
 could gain no favour with the people ; but drunken 
 seamen and other unlettered persons were heard, 
 and kept the rostrujn, while he was entirely 
 disregarded.* “You say true, ” answered Saty- 
 rus ; “ but I wiU soon provide a remedy, if you 
 will repeat to me some speech in Euripides or 
 Sophocles.” When Demosthenes had done, 
 Satyrus pronounced the same speech ; and he did 
 it with such propriety of action, and so much in 
 character, that it appeared to the orator quite a 
 different passage. He now understood so well 
 how much grace and dignity action adds to the 
 best oration, that he thought it a small matter to 
 premeditate and compose, though with the utmost 
 care, if the pronunciation and propriety of gesture 
 were not attended to. Upon this he built himself 
 a subterraneous study, which remained to our 
 times. Thither he repaired every day to form his 
 action and e.xercise his voice ; and he would often 
 stay there for two or three months together, 
 shaving one side of his head, that, if he should 
 happen to be ever so desirous of going abroad, 
 the shame of appearing in that condition might 
 keep him in. 
 
 When he did go out upon a visit, or received 
 one, he would take something that passed in con- 
 versation, some business or fact that was reported 
 to him, for a subject to exercise himself upon. 
 As soon as he had parted from his friends, he 
 went to his study, where he repeated the matter 
 in order as it passed, together with the arguments 
 for and against it. The substance of the speeches 
 
 * This was the privilege of all democratic states. 
 Some think, that by seamen he means Demades, 
 whose profession was that of a mariner. 
 
5S2 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 which l;e heard he committed to memory, and 
 afterwards reduced them to regular sentences and 
 periods,* meditating a variety of corrections and 
 new forms of expression, both for what others had 
 said to him, and he had addressed to them. 
 Hence it was concluded that he was not a man of 
 much genius ; and that all his eloquence was the 
 effect of labour. A strong proof of this seemed to 
 be, that he was seldom heard to speak anything 
 extempore, and though the people often called 
 upon him by name, as he .sat in the assembly, to 
 speak to the point debated, he would not do it 
 unless he came prepared. For this many of the 
 orators ridiculed him ; and Pytheas, in particular, 
 told him, that all his arguments smelled of the 
 lamp. Demosthenes retorted sharply upon him, 
 “Yes, indeed, but your lamp and mine, my 
 friend, are not conscious to the same labours.” 
 To others he did not pretend to deny his previous 
 application, but told them, he neither wrote the 
 whole of his orations, nor spoke without first 
 committing part to writing. He farther affirmed, 
 that this showed him a good member of a demo- 
 cratic state ; for the coming prepared to the 
 7'ostrttni was a mark of respect for the people. 
 Whereas, to be regardless of what the people 
 might think of a man’s address, showed his 
 inclination for oligarchy, and that he had rather 
 gain his point by force than by persuasion. An- 
 other proof they give us of his want of confidence 
 on any sudden occasion, is, that when he hap- 
 pened to be put into disorder by the tumultuary 
 behaviour of the people, Demades often rose up 
 to support him in an extempore address, but he 
 never did the same for Demades. 
 
 Wherefore, then, it may be said, did .^schines 
 call him an orator of the most admirable assur- 
 ance ? How could he stand up alone and refute 
 Python the Byzantian, f whose eloquence poured 
 against the Athenians like a torrent ? And when 
 Lamachus the MyrrhenianJ pronounced at the 
 Olympic games an encomium which he had writ- 
 ten upon Philip and Alexander, and in which he 
 had asserted many severe and reproachful things 
 against the Thebans and Olynthians, how could 
 
 * Cicero did the same, as we find in his epistles to 
 Atticus. These arguments he calls Thesis 
 ticcB. 
 
 t This was one of the most glorious circum- 
 stances in the life of Demosthenes. The fate of 
 his country, in a great measure depended on his 
 eloquence. After Platea was lost, and Philip 
 threatened to march against Athens, the Athen- 
 ians applied for succours to the Boeotians. When 
 the league was established, and the troops 
 assembled at Chseronea, Philip sent ambassadors 
 to the council of Boeotia, the chief of whom was 
 Python, one of the ablest orators of his time. 
 When he had inveighed with all the powers of 
 eloquence against the Athenians and their cause, 
 Demosthenes answered him, and carried the 
 point in their favour. He was so elevated with 
 this victory, that he mentions it in one of his 
 orations in almost the same terms that Plutarch 
 has used here. 
 
 J If we suppose this Lamachus to have been 
 of Attica, the text should be altered from Myr- 
 ? henian to Myrrhinusian ; for Myrrhinus was a 
 borough of Attica. But there was a town called 
 Myrrhine in .^olia, and another in Lemnos, and 
 probably Lamachus was of one of these. 
 
 Demosthenes rise up and prove, by a ready de- 
 duction of facts, the many benefits for which 
 Greece was indebted to the Thebans and Chalci- 
 dians, and the many evils that the flatterers of 
 the Macedonians had brought upon their country? 
 This, too, wrought such a change in the minds 
 of the great audience, that the sophist, his an- 
 tagonist, apprehending a tumult, stole out of the 
 assembly. 
 
 Upon the whole, it appears that Demosthenes 
 did not take Pericles entirely for his model. He 
 only adopted his action and delivery, and his 
 prudent resolution not to make a practice of 
 speaking from a sudden impulse, or on any occa- 
 sion that might present itself ; being persuaded, 
 that it was to that conduct he owed his greatness. 
 Yet, while he chose not often to trust the success 
 of his powers to fortune, he did not absolutely 
 neglect the reputation which may be acquired by 
 speaking on a sudden occasion. And, if we 
 believe Eratosthenes, Demetrius the Phalerean, 
 and the comic poets, there was a greater spirit 
 and boldness in his unpremeditated orations than 
 in those he had committed to writing. Eratos- 
 thenes says that, in his extemporaneous ha- 
 rangues, he often spoke as from a supernatural 
 impulse ; and Demetrius tells us, that in an 
 address to the people, like a man inspired, he 
 once uttered this oath in verse — 
 
 By earth, by all her fountains, streams, and 
 floods ! 
 
 One of the comic writers calls him RhoJ>operpere~ 
 thras, * and another, ridiculing his frequent use 
 of the antithesis, says, “As he took, so he re- 
 took.” _ For Demosthenes affected to use that 
 expression. Possibly, Antiphanes played upon 
 that passage in the oration concerning the isle of 
 Halonesus, in which Demosthenes advised the 
 Athenians not to take, but to retake 'it from 
 Philip.! 
 
 It was agreed, however, on all hands, that De- 
 mades excelled all the orators when he trusted to 
 nature only ; and that his sudden effusions were 
 superior to the laboured speeches of Demos- 
 thenes. Aristo of Chios gives us the following 
 account of the opinion of Theophrastus concern- 
 ing these orators. Being asked in what light he 
 looked upon Demosthenes as an orator, he said, 
 “I think him worthy of Athens what of De- 
 mades, “ I think him above it.” The same phi- 
 losopher relates of Polyeuctus the Sphettian, who 
 was one of the principal persons in the Athenian 
 administration at that time, that he called Demos- 
 thenes the greatest orator, and Phocion the most 
 powerful speaker ; because the latter comprised 
 a great deal of sense in a few words. To the 
 same purpose we are told, that Demosthenes him- 
 self, whenever Phocion got up to oppose him, 
 used to say to his friends, “Here comes the 
 pruning-hook of my periods.” It is uncertain, 
 indeed, whether Demosthenes referred to Pho- 
 cion’s manner of speaking, or to his life and 
 
 * A haberdasher of S7nall wares, or something 
 like it. . 
 
 t There is an expression something like what 
 Plutarch has quoted, about the beginning of that 
 oration. Libanius suspects the whole of that 
 oration to be spurious ; but this raillery of the 
 poet on Demosthenes seems to prove that it was 
 of his hand. 
 
DEMOSTHENES. 
 
 583 
 
 character. The latter might be the case, because 
 he knew that a word or a nod from a man of su- 
 perior character is more regarded than the long 
 discourses of another. 
 
 As for his personal defects, Demetrius the 
 Phalerean gives us an account of the remedies he 
 applied to them ; and he says he had it from De- 
 mosthenes in his old age. The hesitation and 
 stammering of his tongue he corrected by prac- 
 tising to speak with pebbles in his mouth ; and he 
 strengthened his voice by running or walking up- 
 hill, and pronouncing some passage in an oration 
 or a poem, during the difficulty of breath which 
 that caused. He had, moreover, a looking-glass 
 in his house, before which he used to declaim, 
 and adjust all his motions. 
 
 It is said, that a man came to him one day, and 
 desired him to be his advocate against a person 
 from whom he had suffered by assault. “Not 
 you, indeed,” said Demosthenes, “you have 
 suffered no such thing.” “What!” said the 
 man, raising his voice, “have I not received those 
 blows?” “Ay, 110 w,” replied Demosthenes, 
 “you do speak like a person that has been in- 
 jured.” So much, in his opinion, do the tone of 
 voice and the action contribute to gain the speaker 
 credit in what he affirms. 
 
 His action pleased the commonalty much ; but 
 people of taste (among whom was Demetrius the 
 Phalerean) thought there was something in it 
 low, inelegant, and unmanly. Hermippus ac- 
 quaints us, that .^sion being asked his opinion 
 of the ancient orators and those of that time, said, 
 “ Whoever has heard the orators of former times 
 must admire the decorum and dignity with which 
 they spoke. Yet when we read the orations of 
 Demosthenes, we must allow they have more art 
 in the composition and greater force.” It is need- 
 less to mention, that, in his written orations, 
 there was something extremely cutting and 
 severe ; but,^ in his sudden repartees, there was 
 also something of humour.* When Demades 
 said, “ Demosthenes to me ! a sow to Minerva I ” 
 our orator made answer, “ This Minerva was 
 found the other day playing the whore in Colyt- 
 tus.” When a rascal, sumamed Chalchns,^ 
 attempted to jest upon his late studies and long 
 watchings, he said, ‘ ‘ I know my lamp offends 
 thee. But you need not wonder, my country- 
 men, that we have so many robberies, when we 
 have thieves of brass, and walls only of clay.” 
 Though more of his sayings might be produced, 
 we shall pass them over, and go on to seek the 
 rest of his manners and character in his actions 
 and political conduct. 
 
 He tells us himself, that he entered upon public 
 business in the time of the Phocian war, % and the 
 same may be collected from his Philippics. For 
 some of the last of them were delivered after 
 that war was finished ; and the former relate to 
 the immediate transactions of it. It appears 
 also, that he was two and thirty years old when 
 he was preparing his oration against Midias ; 
 and yet at that time, he had attained no name or 
 
 * Longinus will not allow him the least ex- 
 cellence in matters of humour or pleasantry. 
 Cap. xxviii. 
 
 •f That is Brass. 
 
 + In the one hundred and sixth olympiad, 533 
 years before the Christian era. Demosthenes was 
 then in his twenty-seventh year. 
 
 power in the administration. This, indeed, seems 
 to be the reason of his dropping the prosecution 
 for a sum of money. For — 
 
 No prayer, no moving art 
 
 E’er bent that fierce, inexorable heart. Pope. 
 
 He was vindictive in his nature, and impla- 
 cable in his resentments. He saw it a difficult 
 thing, and out of the reach of his interest, to 
 pull down a man so well supported on all sides 
 as Midias, by wealth and friends ; and therefore 
 he listened to the application in his behalf. Had 
 he seen any hopes or possibility of crushing his 
 enemy, I cannot think that 3000 drach7nas could 
 have disarmed his anger. 
 
 ^ He had a glorious subject for his political am- 
 bition, to defend the cause of Greece against 
 Philip. He defended it like a champion worthy 
 of such a charge, and soon gained great reputa- 
 tion both for eloquence and for the bold truths 
 which he spoke. He was admired in Greece, 
 and courted by the king of Persia. Nay, Philip 
 himself had a much higher opinion of him than 
 the other orators ; and his enemies acknowledged 
 that they had to contend with a great man. 
 For iEschines and Hyperides, in their very accu- 
 sations, give him such a character. 
 
 I wonder, therefore, how Theopompus could 
 say that he was a man of no steadiness, who 
 was never long pleased either with the same per- 
 sons or things. For, on the contrary, it appears 
 that he abode by the party and the measures 
 which he first adopted ; and was so far from 
 quitting them during his life, that he forfeited 
 his life rather than he y/ould forsake them. De- 
 mades, to excuse the inconsistency of his public 
 character, used to say, “ I may have asserted 
 things contrary to my former sentiments, but not 
 anything contrary to the true interest of the com- 
 rnonwealth.” Melanopus, who was of the oppo- 
 site party to Callistratus, often suffered himself 
 to be bought off, and then said, by way of 
 apology, to the people, “ It is true, the man is my 
 enemy, but the public good is an overruling con- 
 sideration.” And Nicodemus the Messenian, 
 who first appeared strong in the interest of Cas- 
 sander, and afterwards in that of Demetrius, 
 said he did not contradict himself, for it was 
 always the best way to listen to the strongest. 
 But we have nothing of that kind to allege 
 against Demosthenes. He was never a timeserver 
 either in his word or actions. The key of poli- 
 tics \vhich he first touched he kept to without 
 variation. 
 
 Panaetius, the philosopher, asserts, that most 
 of his orations are written upon this principle, 
 that virtue is to be chosen for her own sake only ; 
 that, for instance, oj the crown^ that against 
 Aristocrates, that for the hmiiunities^ and the 
 Philippics. In all these orations, he does not 
 exhort his countrymen to that which is most 
 agreeable, or easy, or advantageous ; but points 
 out honour and propriety as the first objects, and 
 leaves the safety of the state as a matter of in- 
 ferior consideration. So that, if, besides that 
 noble ambition which animated his measures, and 
 the generous turn of his addresses to the people, 
 he had been blessed with the courage that war 
 demands, and had kept his hands clean of bribes, 
 he would not have been numbered with such 
 orators as Mirocles, Polyeuctus and Hyperides, 
 but have deserved to have been placed in a 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 584 
 
 liigher sphere with Cimon, Thucydides, and 
 Pericles. 
 
 Among those who took the reins of government 
 after him, Phocion, though not of the party in 
 most esteem (I mean that which seemed to favour 
 the Macedonians), yet, on account of his probity 
 and valour, did not appear at all inferior to 
 Ephialtes, Aristides, and Cimon. But Demos- 
 thenes had neither the courage that could be 
 trusted in the field, nor was he (as Demetrius 
 expresses it) sufficiently fortified against the im- 
 pressions of mone}\ Though he bore up against 
 the assaults of corruption from Philip and the 
 Macedonians, yet he was taken by the gold of 
 Susa and Ecbatana. So that he was much better 
 qualified to recommend, than to imitate, the 
 virtues of our ancestors. It must be acknow- 
 ledged, however, that he excelled all the orators 
 of his time, except Phocion, in his life and con- 
 versation. And we find in his orations, that he 
 told the people the boldest truths, that he opposed 
 their inclinations, and corrected their errors with 
 the greatest spirit and freedom. Theopompus 
 also acquaints us that, when the Athenians were 
 for having him manager of a certain impeach- 
 ment, and insisted upon it in a tumultuary 
 manner, he would not comply, but rose up and 
 said, “My friends, I will be your counsellor 
 whether you will or no ; but a false accuser I 
 will not be, how much soever you may wish it.” 
 His behaviour in the case of Antipho was of the 
 aristocratic cast."^ The people had acquitted 
 him in the gei eral assembly ; and yet he carried 
 him before the areopagus ; where, without regard- 
 ing the offence it might give the people, he proved 
 that he had promised Philip to burn the arsenal ; 
 upon which he was condemned by the council, 
 and put to death. He likewise accused the 
 priestess Theoris of several misdemeanours ; and, 
 among the rest, of her teaching the slaves many 
 arts of imposition. Such crimes, he insisted, were 
 capital ; and she was delivered over to the exe- 
 cutioner. 
 
 Demosthenes is said to have written the ora- 
 tion for Apollodorus, by which he carried his 
 cause against the general Timotheus, in an action 
 of debt to the public treasury ; as ahso those 
 others against Phormio and Stephanus ; which 
 was a just exception against his character. For 
 he composed the oration which Phormio had pro- 
 nounced against Apollodorus. This, therefore, 
 was like furnishing two enemies with weapons out 
 of the same shop to fight one another. He wrote 
 some public orations for others before he had any 
 concern in the administration himself, namely, 
 those against Androtion, Timocrates, and Aristo- 
 crates. For it appears that he was only twenty- 
 seven or twenty-eight years of age when he 
 published those orations. That against Aristogi- 
 ton, and that for the Z 7 n 7 nunities, he delivered 
 himself, at the request, as he says, of Ctesippus 
 the son of Chabrias ; though others tell us, it was 
 because he paid his addresses to the young man’s 
 mother. He did not, however, marry her ; for 
 his wife was a woman of Samos, as Demetrius the 
 Magnesian informs us, in his account ol persons 
 of the same name. It is uncertain whether that 
 against JEschines,Jbr betray mg his trust as a 77 z- 
 bassador,\ was ever spoken ; though Idomeneus 
 
 * See his oration de CoroTta. 
 t III this oration, Demosthenes accused ^s- 
 
 affirms that iEschines was acquitted only by 
 thirty votes. This seems not to be true, at least 
 so far as may be conjectured from both their 
 orations concerning the crow 7 i. For neither of 
 them expressly mentions it as a cause that ever 
 came to trial. But this is a point which we 
 shall leave for others to decide. 
 
 Demosthenes, through the whole course of his 
 political conduct, left none of the actions of the 
 king of Macedon undisparaged. Even in time of 
 peace, he laid hold on every opportunity to raise 
 suspicions against him among the Athenians, and 
 to excite their resentment. Hence Philip looked 
 upon him as a person of the greatest importance 
 in Athens ; and when he went with nine other 
 deputies to the court of that prince, after having 
 given them all audience, he answered the .speech 
 of Demosthenes with greater care than the rest. 
 As to other marks of honour and respect, Demos- 
 thenes had not an equal share in them ; they 
 were bestowed principally upon .^schines and 
 Philocrates. They, therefore, were large in the 
 praise of Philip on all occasions ; and they in- 
 sisted, in particular, on his eloquence, his beauty, 
 and even his being able to drink a great quantity 
 of liquor. Demosthenes, who could not bear to 
 hear him praised, turned these things off as 
 trifles. “The first,” he said, “was the property 
 of a sophist, the second of a woman, and the 
 third of a sponge ; and not one of them could do 
 any credit to a king.” 
 
 Afterwards, it appeared that nothing was to be 
 expected but war, for, on the one hand, Philip 
 knew not how to sit down in tranquility ; and, on 
 the other, Demosthenes inflamed the Athenians. 
 In this case, the first step the orator took was to 
 put the people upon sending an armament to 
 Euboea, which was brought under the yoke of 
 Philip by its petty tyrants. Accordingly he 
 drew up an edict, in pursuance of which they 
 passed over to that peninsula, and drove out the 
 Macedonians. His second operation was the 
 sending succours to the Byzantians and Perin- 
 thians, with whom Philip was at war. He per- 
 suaded the people to drop their resentment, to 
 forget the faults which both those nations had 
 committed in the confederate war, and to send a 
 body of troops to their assistance. They did so, 
 and it saved them from ruin. After this, he went 
 ambassador to the states of Greece ; and, by his 
 animating address, brought them almost all to 
 join in the league against Philip. Besides the 
 troops of the several cities, they took an army of 
 mercenaries, to the number of 15,000 foot and 
 2000 horse into pay, and readily contributed to 
 the charge. Theophrastus tells us, that, when 
 the allies desired their contributions might be 
 settled, Crobylus the orator answered, that war 
 could not be brought to any set diet. 
 
 The eyes of all Greece were now upon these 
 movements ; and all were solicitous for the event. 
 The cities of Euboea, the Achseans, the Corin- 
 thians, the Megarensians, the Leucadians, the 
 Corcyraeans, had each severally eiigaged for them- 
 selves against the Macedonians. Yet the greatest 
 work remained for Demosthenes to do ; which 
 was to bring the Thebans over to the league. 
 
 chines of many capital crimes committed in the 
 embassy on which he was sent to oblige Philip to 
 swear to the articles of peace. Both that ora- 
 tion, and the answer to iEschines, are still extant. 
 
DEMOSTHENES. 
 
 Their country bordered upon Attica ; they had a 
 great army on foot, and were then reckoned the 
 best soldiers in Greece. But they had recent 
 obligations to Philip in the Phocion war, and 
 therefore it was not easy to draw them from him ; 
 especially when they considered the frequent 
 quarrels and acts of hostility in which their 
 vicinity to Athens engaged them. 
 
 Meantime Philip, elated with his success at 
 Amphissa, surprised Elatea, and possessed himself 
 of Phocis. The Athemans were struck with 
 astonishment, and not one of them durst mount 
 the rostru7H : no one knew what advice to give ; 
 but a melancholy silence reigned in the city. In 
 this distress Demosthenes alone stood forth, and 
 proposed, that application should be made to the 
 'Thebans. He likewise animated the people in 
 his usual manner, and inspired them with fresh 
 hopes ; in consequence of which he was sent 
 ambassador to Thebes, some others being joined 
 in commission with him. Philip too, on his part, 
 as Maryas informs us, sent Amyntus and Clear- 
 chus, two Macedonians, Doachus the Thessalian, 
 and Thrasid^us the Elean, to answer the 
 Athenian deputies. The Thebans were not igno- 
 rant what way their true interest pointed ; but 
 each of them had the evils of war before his 
 eyes ; for their Phocion wounds were still fresh 
 upon them. However, the powers of the orator, 
 
 Theopompus tells us, rekindled their courage 
 and ambition so effectually that all other objects 
 were disregarded. They lost sight of fear, of 
 caution, of ever>- prior attachment, and, through 
 the force of his eloquence, fell with enthusiastic 
 transports into the path of honour. 
 
 So powerful, indeed, were the efforts of the 
 orator, that Philip immediately sent ambassadors 
 to Athens to apply for peace. Greece recovered 
 her spirits, whilst she stood waiting for the event ; 
 and not only the Athenian generals, but the 
 governors of Boeotia, were ready to execute the 
 commands of Demosthenes. All the assemblies, 
 as well those of Thebes as those of Athens, were 
 under his direction : he was equally beloved, 
 equally powerful, in both places ; and, as Theo- 
 pompus shows, it was no more than his merit 
 claimed. But the superior power of fortune, 
 which seems to have been working a revolution, 
 and drawing the liberties of Greece to a period at 
 that time, opposed and baffled all the measures 
 that could be taken. The deity discovered many 
 tokens of the approaching event. Among the 
 rest, the priestess of Apollo delivered dreadful 
 oracles ; and an old prophecy from the Sybilline 
 books was then much repeated : 
 
 Far from Thermodon’s banks, when, stain’d with 
 blood, 
 
 Boeotia trembles o’er the crimson flood. 
 
 On eagle pinions let me pierce the sky. 
 
 And see the vanquish’d weep, the victor die ! 
 
 This Thermodon, they say, is a small river in 
 our country near Chaeronea, which falls into the 
 Cephisus. At present we know no river of that 
 name ; but we conjecture that the Haemon, which 
 runs by the temple of Hercules, where the Greeks 
 encamped, might then be called Thermodon ; and 
 the battle having filled it with blood and the 
 bodies of the slain, it might, on that account, 
 ^ange its appellation. Duris, indeed, says, that 
 f hermodon was not a river, but that some of the 
 soldiers, as they were pitching their tents, and 
 
 opening the trenches, found a small statue, with 
 an inscription, which signified, that the person 
 represented was Thermodon holding a wounded 
 Amazon in his arms. He adds, that there was 
 another oracle on the subject, much taken notice 
 of at that time ; 
 
 Fell bird of prej^, 
 
 Wmt thou the plenteous harvest which the sword 
 Will give thee on Thermodon. 
 
 But it is hard to say what truth there is in these 
 accounts. 
 
 As to Demosthenes, he is said to have had such 
 confidence in the Grecian arms, and to have been 
 so much elated with the courage and spirit of so 
 many brave men calling for the enemy, that he 
 would not suffer them to regard any oracles or 
 prophecies; He told them, that he suspected the 
 prophetess herself of Philipizing. He put the 
 Thebans in mind of Epaminondas, and the 
 x^thenians of Pericles, how they reckoned such 
 things as mere pretexts of cowardice, and pursued 
 the plan which their reason had dictated. Thus 
 far Demosthenes acquitted himself like a of 
 spirit and honour. But in the battle, he per- 
 formed nothing worthy of the glorious things he 
 had spoken. He quitted his post ; he threw 
 away his arms ; he fled in the most infamous 
 manner ; and was not ashamed, as Pytheas says, 
 to belie the inscription, which he had put upon 
 his shield in golden characters, to good for- 
 tune. 
 
 Immediately after the victor^’-, Philip, in the 
 elation of his heart, committed a thousand ex- 
 cesses. He drank to intoxication, and danced 
 over the dead, making a kind of song of the first 
 part of the decree which Demosthenes had pro- 
 cured, and beating time to it — De7nosthenes tJie 
 Peza7iea7i, sc7i of De77iosthe7ies^ has decreed. But 
 when he came to be sober again, and considered 
 the dangers with which he had lately been 
 surrounded, he trembled to think of the prodigious 
 force and power of that orator, who had obliged 
 him to put both empire and life on the cast of a 
 day, on a few hours of that day.* 
 
 The fame of Demosthenes reached the Persian 
 court ; and the king wrote letters to his lieutenants, 
 commanding them to supply him with money, 
 and to attend to him more than to any other man 
 in Greece ; because he best knew how to make a 
 diversion in his favour, by raising fresh troubles, 
 and finding employment for the Macedonian arms 
 nearer home. This Alexander afterwards dis- 
 covered by the letters of Demosthenes which he 
 found at Sardis ; and the papers of the Persian 
 governors expressing the sums which had been 
 given him. 
 
 When the Greeks had lost this great battle, 
 those of the contrary faction attacked Demos- 
 thenes, and brought a variety of public accusarions 
 against him. The people, however, not only 
 acquitted him, but treated him Avith the same 
 respect as before, and called him to the helm 
 again, as a person whom they knew to be a well- 
 wisher to his country. So that, when the bones 
 
 ♦ Demades the orator contributed to bring him 
 to the right use of his reason, when he told 
 him, with such distinguished magnanimity, that 
 fortune had placed him in the character of 
 x\gamemnon, but that he chose to play the part of 
 Thersites. 
 
5S6 
 
 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 of those who fell at Chseronea were brought home 
 to be interred, they pitched upon Demosthenes to 
 make the funeral oration. They were, therefore, 
 so far from bearing their misfortune in a mean and 
 ungenerous manner, as Theopompus, in a tragical 
 strain, represents it ; that, by the great honour 
 they did the counsellor, they sho\ved they did not 
 repent of having followed his advice. 
 
 Demosthenes accordingly made the oration. 
 But, after this, he did not prefix his own name to 
 his edicts, because he considered fortune as in- 
 auspicious to him ; but sometimes that X)f one 
 friend, sometimes that of another, till he recovered 
 his spirits upon the death of Philip : for that prince 
 did not long survive his victory at Chseronea, and 
 his fate seemed to be presignified in the last of the 
 verses above quoted — 
 
 And see the vanquish’d. weep, the victor die ! 
 Demosthenes had secret intelligence of the 
 death of Philip ; and, in order to prepossess the 
 people with hopes of some good success to come, 
 he entered the assembly with a gay countenance, 
 pretending he had seen a vision which announced 
 something great for Athens. Soon after, mes- 
 sengers came with an account of Philip’s death. 
 The Athenians immediately oflered sacrifices of 
 acknowledgment to the gods for so happy mi 
 event, and voted a crown for Pausanias, who 
 killed him. Demosthenes, on this occasion, made 
 his appearance in magnificent attire, and with a 
 garland on his head, though it was only the seventh 
 day after his daughter’s death, as AEschines tells 
 us, who, on that account, reproaches him as an 
 imnatural father. But he must himself have been 
 of an imgenerous and effeminate disposition, if he 
 considered tears and lamentations as marks of a 
 kind and affectionate parent, and condemned the 
 man who bore such a loss with moderation. 
 
 At the same time, I do not pretend to say the 
 Athenians were right in crowning themselves with 
 flowers, or in sacrificing, upon the death of a 
 prince who had behaved to them with so much 
 gentleness and humanity in their misfortunes : for 
 it was a meanness, below contempt, to honour 
 him in his life, and admit him a citizen ; and yet, 
 after he was fallen by the hands of another, not 
 to keep their joy within any bounds, but to insult 
 the dead, and sing triumphal songs, as if they 
 had performed some extraordinary act of valour. 
 
 I commend Demosthenes, indeed, for leaving 
 the tears and other instances of mourning, which 
 his domestic misfortunes might claim, to the 
 women, and going about such actions as he 
 thought conducive to the welfare of his country ; 
 for 1 think a man of such firmness and other 
 abilities as a statesmen ought to have, should 
 always have the common concern in view, and 
 look upon his private accidents or business as 
 considerations much inferior to the public. In 
 consequence of which, he will be much more 
 careful to maintain his dignity than actors who 
 personate kings and tvrants ; and yet these, we 
 see, neither laugh nor weep according to the 
 dictates of their own passions, but as they are 
 directed by the subject of the drama. It is 
 universally acknowledged that we are not to 
 abandon the unhappy to their sorrows, but to 
 endeavour to cor sole them^ by rational discourse, 
 or by turning their attention to more agreeable 
 objects ; in the same manner as we desire t“Ose 
 who have weak eyes to turn them from bright 
 
 and dazzling colours, to green, or others of a 
 softer kind. And what better consolation can 
 there be under domestic afflictions, than to 
 attemper and alleviate them with the public suc- 
 cess ; so that, by such a mixture, the bad may 
 be con-ected by the good. These reflections 
 we thought proper to make, because^ we have 
 observed that this discourse of A£schines has 
 weakened the minds of many persons, and put 
 them upon indulging all the etfeminacy of sorrow. 
 
 Demosthenes now solicited the states of Greece 
 ai;ain, and they entered once more into the league. 
 The Thebans, being furnished with arms by 
 Demosthenes, attacked the garrison in their 
 citadel, and killed great nuinbers ; and the Athe- 
 nians prepared to join them in the war. Demos- 
 thenes mounted the rostrum almost every day ; 
 and he wrote to the king of Persia’s lieutenants 
 in Asia, to invite them to commence hostilities 
 from that quarter against Alexander, whom he 
 called a boy, a second Margitcs.^ 
 
 But when Alexander had settled the affairs of 
 his own countrj% and marched into Bceotia with 
 all his forces, the pride of the Athenians was 
 humbled, and the spirit of Demosthenes died 
 away. They deserted the Thebans ; and that 
 unhappy people had to stand the whole fury 
 the war by themselves ; in consequence of which 
 they lost their city. The Athenians were in great 
 trouble and confusion ; and they could think of 
 no better measure than the sending Demosthenes, 
 and some others, ambassadors to Alexander. But 
 Demosthenes, dreading the anger of that monarch, 
 turned back at Mount Cithseron, and relinquished 
 his commission. Alexander immediately sent 
 deputies to Athens, who (according to Idomeneus 
 and Duris) demanded that they would deliver up 
 ten of their orators. But the greatest ^art, and 
 those the most reputable of the historians, say, 
 that he demanded only these eight, Demosthenes, 
 Polyeuctus, Ephialtes, Ljmurgus, Myrocles, 
 Damon, Callisthenes, and Charidemus. On this 
 occasion, Demosthenes addressed the people in 
 the fable of the sheep, who were to give up then- 
 dogs to the wolves, before they would grant them 
 peace : by which he insinuated, that he and the 
 other orators were the guards of the people, as 
 the dogs were of the flocks ; and that Alexander 
 was the great wolf thej^ had to treat with. And 
 again: “As we see merchants carrying about a 
 small sample in a dish, by which they sell laige 
 quantities of wheat ; so you, in us, without know- 
 inn it, deliver up the whole body of citizens. 
 These’ particulars we have from Aristobulus of 
 Cassandria. 
 
 The Athenians deliberated upon the point m 
 full assembly : and Demades seeing them in great 
 p0rplexity, offered to go alone to th.e king of 
 Macedon, and intercede for the orators, on con- 
 dition that each of them would give him five 
 talents ; whether it was that he depended upon 
 the friendship that prince had for him, or whether 
 he hoped to find him, like a lion, satiated with 
 blood, he succeeded, however, in his application 
 for the orators, and reconciled Alexander to the 
 
 When Alexander returned to Macedon, the 
 reputation of Demades, and the other orators of 
 
 * Homer wrote a satire against this Margites, 
 who appears to have been a very contemptible 
 character. 
 
DEMOSTHENES. 
 
 his party, greatly increased; and that of De- 
 mosthenes gradually declined. It is true, he 
 raised his head a little when Agis, king of Sparta, 
 took the held ; but it soon fell again ; for the 
 Athenians refused to join him, Agis was killed in 
 battle, and the Lacedaemonians entirely routed. 
 
 About this time,* the affair co7icerning the 
 crown, came again upon the carpet. The in- 
 formation was first laid under the archonship of 
 Chaerondas ; and the cause was not determined 
 till ten years after,! under Aristophon. It was 
 the most celebrated cause that ever was pleaded, 
 as well on account of the reputation of the 
 orators, as the generous behaviour of the judges : 
 for, though the prosecutors of Demosthenes were 
 then in great power, as being entirely in the 
 hlacedonian interest, the judges would not give 
 their voices against him ; but, on the contrary, 
 acquitted him so honourably that iLschines had 
 not a fifth part of the suffrages, t ^schines im- 
 mediately quitted Athens, and spent the rest of 
 his days in teaching rhetoric at Rhodes and in 
 Ionia. 
 
 It was not long after this that Harpalus came 
 from Asia to Athens. § He had fled from the 
 service of Alexander, both because he was con- 
 scious to himself of having falsified his trust, to 
 minister to his pleasures, and because he dreaded 
 his master, who now was become terrible to his 
 best friends. As he applied to the people of 
 Athens for shelter, and desired protection for his 
 ships and treasures, most of the orators had an 
 eye upon the gold, and supported his application 
 with all their interest. Demosthenes at first 
 advised them to order Harpalus off immediately, 
 and to be particularly careful not to involve the 
 city in war again, without an}’- just or necessary 
 cause. 
 
 Yet a few days after, when they were taking 
 an account of the treasure, Harpalus perceiving 
 that Demosthenes was much pleased with one ol' 
 the king’s cups, and stood admiring the work- 
 manship and fashion, desired him to take it in his 
 hand, and feel the weight of the gold. Demos- 
 thenes being surprised at the weight, and asking 
 Harpalus how much it might bring, he smiled, 
 and said, “ It will bring )’ou twenty talents.” 
 And as soon as it was night, he sent him the cup 
 with that sum. For Harpalus knew well enough 
 
 587 
 
 * Demosthenes rebuilt the walls of Athens at 
 his own expense ; for which the people, at the 
 motion of Ctesiphon, decreed him a crown of 
 ^Id. ^ This excited the envy and jealousy of 
 Aschines, who thereupon brought that famous 
 impeachment against Demosthenes, which oc- 
 casioned his inimitable oration de Corona. 
 
 t Plutarch must be mistaken here. It does not 
 appear upon the exactest calculation to have 
 been more than eight years. 
 
 X This was a very ignominious circumstance : 
 tor If the accuser had not a fifth part of the 
 suffrages, he was fined 1000 drachmas. 
 
 § Harpalus had the charge of Alexander’s 
 treasure in Babylon ; and, flattering himself that 
 he would never return from his Indian expedition 
 he gave in to all manner of crimes and excesses! 
 At last, when he found that Alexander was really 
 returning, and that he took a severe account of 
 such pe^le_ as himself, he thought proper to 
 march off with 5000 talents, and 6000 men, into 
 Attica. ’ 
 
 how to distinguish a man’s passion for gold, by 
 his pleasure at the sight and the keen looks he 
 cast upon it.^ Demosthenes could not resist the 
 temptation : it made all the impression upon him 
 that ^’as expected : he received the money, like 
 a garrison, into his house, and went over to the 
 of Harpalus. Next day he came into 
 the assembly with a quantity of wool and ban- 
 dages about his neck; and when the people 
 called upon him to get up and speak, he made 
 signs that he had lost his voice. Upon which 
 some that were by, said it was no common 
 hoarseness that he had got in the night ; it was 
 a hoarseness occasioned by swallowing gold and 
 silver. Afterwards, when all the people were 
 apprized of hty taking the bribe, and he wanted 
 to speak in his own defence, they would not 
 suffer^ him, but raised a clamour, and expressed 
 their indignation. At the same time, somebody 
 or other stood up and said sneeringly, “ Will you 
 not listen to the man with the cup?”* * * § * The 
 Athenians then immediately sent Harpalus off; 
 and fearing they might be called to account for 
 the money with which the orators had been 
 corrupted, they made a strict inquiry after it, 
 and searched all their houses, except that of 
 Callicles the son of Arenides : whom they spared, 
 as Theopompus says, because he was newly 
 married, and his bride was in his house. 
 
 At the same time Demosthenes, seemingly with 
 a design to prove his innocence, moved for an 
 order that the affair should be brought before the 
 court of Areopagus, and all persons punished 
 who should be found guilty of taking bribes. In 
 consequence of which, he appeared before that 
 court, and was one of the first that were con- 
 victed. Being sentenced to pay a fine of fifty 
 talents, and to be imprisoned till it was paid, the 
 disgrace of his conviction, and the weakness of 
 his constitution, which could not bear close con- 
 finement, determined him to fly ; and this he did 
 undiscovered by some, and assisted by others! 
 It is said, that when he was not far from the 
 city, he perceived some of. his late adversaries 
 following,! and endeavoured to hide himself. 
 But they called to him by name ; and when they 
 came nearer, desired him to take some necessary 
 supplies of money, which they had brought with 
 them for that purpose. They assured him, they 
 had no other design in following ; and exhorted 
 him to take courage. But Demosthenes gave in 
 to more violent expressions of grief than ever, 
 and said, “What comfort can I have, when f 
 leave enemies in this city more generous than it 
 seems possible to find friends in any other?” 
 He bore his exile in a very weak and effeminate 
 manner. For the most part, he resided in ^Egina 
 or Troezene : where, whenever he looked towards 
 Attica, the tears fell from his eyes. In his ex- 
 pressions there was nothing of a rational firm- 
 
 * This alludes to a custom of the ancients at 
 their feasts ; wherein it was usual for the cup- to 
 pass from hand to hand ; and the person who 
 held it sung a song, to which the rest gave atten- 
 tion. 
 
 ! It is recorded by Phocius, that iEschines, 
 when he left^ Athens, was followed in like man- 
 assisted by Demosthenes ; and that, 
 when he offered him consolations, he made the 
 same answer. Plutarch likewise mentions this 
 circumstance in the lives of the ten orators 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 5SS 
 
 ness ; nothing answemble to the bold things he 
 had said and done in his administration. When 
 he left Athens, we are told, he lifted up his 
 hands towards the citadel, and said, “ O hlinerva, 
 goddess of those towers, whence is it that thou 
 delightest in three such monsters as an owl, a 
 dragon, and the people ? ” The young men who 
 resorted to him for instruction he advised by no 
 means to meddle with aftairs of state. He told 
 them tha.t, if two roads had been shown him at 
 first, the one leading to the 7vsfnim and the 
 business of the assembly, and the other to cer- 
 tain destruction ; and he could have foreseen the 
 evils that awaited him in the political walk, the 
 fears, the envj’-, the calumny, and contention ; 
 he would have chosen that road which led to 
 immediate death. 
 
 During the exile of Demosthenes, Alexander 
 died.* The Greek cities once more combining 
 upon that event, Leosthenes performed great 
 things; and, among the rest, drew a line of 
 circumvallation around Antipater, whom he had 
 shut up in Lamia. Pytheas the orator, with 
 Callimedon and Carabus, left Athens, and, going 
 over to Antipater, accompanied his friends and 
 ambassadors in their applications to the Greeks, 
 and in persuading them not to desert the hlace- 
 donian cause, nor listen to the Athenians. On 
 the other hand, Demosthenes joined the Athenian 
 deputies, and exerted himselt greatly with them 
 in exhorting the states to fall with united efforts 
 upon the Macedonians, and drive them out of 
 Greece. Philarchus tells us, that, in one of the 
 cities of Arcadia, Pytlieas and Demosthenes spoke 
 with great acrimony ; the one in pleading for 
 the hlacedonians, and the other for the Greeks. 
 Pytheas is reported to have said, “As some 
 sickness is always supposed to be in the house 
 into which ass’s milk is brought ; so the city 
 which an Athenian embassy ever enters^ must 
 necessarily be in a sick and decaying condition. 
 Demosthenes turned the comparison against him 
 by saying, “As ass’s milk never enters but for 
 curing the sick; so the Athenians never appear 
 but for remed3dng some disorder.” 
 
 The people of Athens were so much pleased 
 with this repartee, that they immediately voted 
 for the recall of Demosthenes. It was Damon 
 the Pseanean, cousin-german to Demosthenes, 
 who drew up the decree. A galley was sent 
 to fetch him from iEgina ; and when he came 
 up from the Piraeus to Athens, the whole body 
 of the citizens went to meet and congratulate 
 him on his return; insomuch that there was 
 neither a magistrate nor priest left in the town. 
 Demetrius of JNIagnesia acquaints us, that Demos- 
 thenes lifted up his hands towards heaven in 
 thanks for that happy day. “ Happier,” said 
 he, “ is my return than that of Alcibiades. It 
 was through compulsion that the Athenians re- 
 stored him, but me they have recalled from a 
 motive of kindness.” 
 
 The fine, however, still remained due : for they 
 could not extend their grace so far as to repeal 
 his sentence. But they found out a method to 
 evade the law, wLile they seemed to comply with 
 it. It was the custom, in the sacrifices to Jupiter 
 the preserver, to pay the persons who prepared 
 and adorned the altars. They therefore appointed 
 
 Demosthenes to this charge ; and ordered that 
 he should have fifty talents for his trouble, which 
 was the sum his fine amounted to. 
 
 But he did not long enjoy his return to his 
 country. The affairs of Greece soon went to 
 ruin. They lost the battle of Crano in the month 
 of August,* a Macedonian garrison entered hluny- 
 chia in September,! and Demosthenes lost his 
 life in October, f 
 
 It happened in the following manner. When 
 new's was brought that Antipater and Craterus 
 were coming to Athens, Demosthenes and those 
 of his party hastened to get out privately before 
 their arrival. Hereupon, the people, at the 
 motion of Demades, condemned them to death. 
 As they fled difierent waj^s. Antipater sent^ a 
 company of soldiers about the country to seize 
 them. Archias, surnamed Phugadotheras, or the 
 exile hunter, was their captain. It is said he 
 Avas a native of Thurium, and had been some 
 time a tragedian ; they add, that Polus of iEgina, 
 who excelled all the actors of his time, \vas his 
 scholar. Hermippus reckons Archias among tlie 
 disciples of Lacritus the rhetorician ; and Deme- 
 trius sa^’^s he spent some time at the school 
 of Anaximenes. This Archias, however, drew 
 H^'perides the orator, Aristonicus of hlarathon, 
 and Himeraeus, the brother of Demetrius the 
 Phalerean, out of the temple of iEacus in .^gina, 
 where they had taken refuge, and sent them to 
 Antipater at Cleonse. ^ There they were exe- 
 cuted ; and H3"perides is said to have first had 
 his tongue cut out. 
 
 Archias being informed that Demosthenes had 
 taken sanctuary in the temple of Neptune at 
 Calauria, he and his Thracian soldiers passed 
 over to it in row boats. As soon as he w'^as 
 landed, he w'ent to the orator, and endeavoured 
 to persuade him to quit the temple, and go with 
 him to Antipater ; assuring him that he had no 
 hard measure to expect. But it happened that 
 Demosthenes had seen a strange vision the night 
 before. He thought that he was contending 
 wdth Archias, which could play the tragedian the 
 best ; that he succeeded in his action ; had the 
 audience on his side, and would certainly have 
 obtained the prize, had not Archias outdone him 
 in the dresses and decorations of the theatre. 
 Therefore, when Archias had addressed him with 
 great appearance of humanity, he fixed his eyes 
 on him, and said, without rising from his seat, 
 “ Neither your action moved me formerly, nor 
 do your promises move me now.” Archias then 
 began to threaten him; upon which he said, 
 “ Before, you acted a part ; now you speak as 
 from the hlacedonian tripod. Only wait awhile 
 till I have sent my last orders to my family.” 
 So sa3dng, he retired into the inner part of the 
 temple : and, taking some paper, as if he meant 
 to write, he put the pen in his mouth, and bit 
 it a considei'able time, as he used to do when 
 thoughtful about his composition : after which, 
 he covered his head, and put it in a reclining 
 posture. The soldiei's who stood at the door, 
 apprehending that he took these methods to put 
 off the fatal stroke, laughed at him, and called 
 him a coward. Archias then approaching him, 
 desired him to rise, and began to repeat the 
 promises of making his peace with Antipater. 
 
 ® 013'mpiad 1 14. Demosthenes was then in his 
 fifty-eighth 3’ear. 
 
 * Metagitnion. f Boedromion. 
 
 X Pyanepsion. 
 
CICERO. 
 
 589 
 
 Demosthenes, who by this time felt the operation 
 of the poison he had taken strong upon him, 
 uncovered his face, and looking upon Archias, 
 “Now,’*^ said he, “you may act the part of 
 Creon* in the play as soon as you please, and 
 cast out this carcase of mine unburied. For my 
 part, O gracious Neptune, I quit thy temple 
 with my breath within me. But Antipater and 
 the Macedonians would not have scrupled to 
 profane it with murder.” By this time he could 
 scarcely stand, and therefore desired them to 
 support him. But in attempting to walk out 
 he fell by the altar, and expired with a groan. 
 
 Aristo says he sucked the poison from a pen, as 
 we have related it. One Poppus, whose memoirs 
 were recovered by Hermippus, reports, that, when 
 he fell by the altar, there was found on his paper 
 the beginning of a letter, “ Demosthenes to Anti- 
 pater, ” and nothing more. He adds, that people 
 being surprised that he died so quickly, the Thra- 
 cians who stood at the door assured them that he 
 took the poison in his hand out of a piece of cloth, 
 and put it to his mouth. To them it had the 
 appearance of gold. Upon inquiry made by 
 Archias, a young maid who served Demosthenes 
 said, he had long wore that piece of cloth by way 
 of amulet. ^ Eratosthenes tells us, that he kept 
 the_ poison in the hollow of a bracelet button 
 which he wore upon his arm. Many others have 
 written upon the subject ; but it is not necessary 
 to give all their different accounts. We shall only 
 add, that Democharis, a servant of Demosthenes, 
 asserts, that he did not think his death owing to 
 poison, but to the favour of the gods, and a happy 
 providence, which snatched him from the cruelty 
 of the Macedonians by a speedy and easy death. 
 Fie died on the sixteenth of October, which is the 
 most mournful day in the ceremonies of the Thes- 
 mophoria.\ The women keep it with fasting in 
 the temple of Ceres. 
 
 It was not long before the people of Athens 
 paid him the honours that were due to him, by 
 erecting his statue in brass, and decreeing that 
 the eldest of his family should be maintained in 
 the Pryianetim^ at the public charge. This cele- 
 
 * Alluding to that passage in the Antigone 
 of Sophocles, where Creon forbids the body of 
 Polynices to be buried. 
 
 t This was an annual festival in honour of Ceres. 
 It began the fourteenth of October, and ended 
 the eighteenth. The third day of the festival was 
 a day of fasting and mortification; and this is 
 the day that Plutarch speaks of. 
 
 brated inscription was put upon the pedestal of 
 his statue : 
 
 Divine in speech, in judgment, too, divine. 
 
 Had valour’s wreath, Demosthenes, been thine. 
 Fair Greece had still her freedom’s ensign borne. 
 And held the scourge of Macedon in scorn ! 
 
 For no regard is to be paid to those who say that 
 Demosthenes himself uttered these lines in Ca* 
 lauria, just before he took the poison. J 
 
 A little before I visited Athens, the following 
 adventure is said to have happened. A soldier 
 being summoned to appear before the commanding 
 officer upon some misdemeanor, put the little gold 
 he had in the hands of the statue of Demosthenes, 
 which were in some measure clenched. A small 
 plane-tree grew by it, and many leaves, either 
 accidentally lodged there by the winds, or pur- 
 posely so placed by the soldier, covered the gold 
 a considerable time. When he returned and 
 found his money entire, the fame of this accident 
 was spread abroad, and many of the wits of 
 Athens strove which could write the best copy of 
 verses to vindicate Demosthenes from the charge 
 of corruption. 
 
 As for Demades, he did not long enjoy the new 
 honours he had acquired. The Being who took 
 It in charge to revenge Demosthenes led him into 
 Macedonia, where he justly perished by the hands 
 of those whom he had basely flattered. They 
 had hated him for some time; but at last they 
 caught him in a fact which could neither be 
 excused nor pardoned. Letters of his were in- 
 tercepted, in which he exhorted Perdiccas to seize 
 Macedonia, and deliver Greece, which, he said, 
 hung only by an old rotten stalk, meaning Anti- 
 pater. Dinarchus, the Corinthian, accusing him 
 of this treason, Cassander was so much provoked, 
 that he stabbed his son in his arms, and after- 
 wards gave orders for his execution. Thus, by 
 the most dreadful misfortunes, he learned that 
 traitors always first fell themselves ; a truth 
 which Demosthenes had often told him before 
 but he -would never believe it. Such, my Sossius" 
 is the Life of Demosthenes, which we have com- 
 piled in the best manner we could, from books and 
 from tradition. 
 
 t This inscription, so far from doing Demos- 
 thenes honour, is the greatest disgrace that the 
 Athenians could have fastened upon his memory. 
 It reproaches him with a weakness, which, when 
 the safety of his country was at stake, was such a 
 deplorable want of virtue and manhood as no 
 parts or talents could atone for. 
 
 CICERO. 
 
 The account we have of Helvia, the mother of 
 Cicero, is, that her family was noble, § and her 
 character excellent . Of his father there is nothing 
 said but in extremes. For some affirm that he 
 was the son of a fuller, H and educated in that 
 
 § Cinna was of this family. 
 
 II Dion tells us that Q. Calenus was the author 
 of this calumny. Cicero, in his books de Legibus, 
 has said enough to show that both his father and 
 grandfather were persons of property and of a 
 liberal education. 
 
 trade, while others deduce his origin from Attius 
 Tullus, ^ a prince who governed the Volsci with 
 great reputation. Be that as it may, I think the 
 first of the family who bore the name of Cicero 
 must have been an extraordinary man ; and for 
 that reason his posterity did not reject the appel- 
 lation, but rather took to it with pleasure, though 
 it was a common subject of ridicule ; for the 
 Latins call a vetch cicer, and he had a flat ex- 
 
 11 The same prince to whom Coriolanus retired 
 400 years before. 
 
590 PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 crescence on the top of his nose in resemblance of 
 a vetch, from which he got that surname.* As 
 for the Cicero of whom we are writing, his friends 
 advised him, on his first application to business 
 and soliciting one of the great offices of state, to 
 lay aside or change that name. But he answered 
 with great spirit, that he would endeavour to 
 make the name of Cicero more glorious than that 
 of the Scauri and the Catuli. When quaestor in 
 Sicily, he consecrated in one of the temples a 
 vase or some other offering in silver, upon which 
 he inscribed his two first names Marcus T ullius, 
 and, punning upon the third, ordered the artificer 
 to engrave a vetch. Such is the account we have 
 of his name. 
 
 He was born on the third of January,! the day 
 on which the magistrates now sacrifice and pay 
 their devotions for the health of the emperor ; 
 and it is said that his mother was delivered of 
 him without pain. It is also reported, that a 
 spectre appeared to his nurse, and foretold, that 
 the child she had the happiness to attend would 
 one day prove a great benefit to the whole com- 
 monwealth of Rome. These things might have 
 passed for idle dreams, had he not soon demon- 
 strated the truth of the prediction, ^yhen he 
 was of a proper age to go to school, his ^ genius 
 broke out with so much lustre, and he gained so 
 distinguished a reputation among the boys, that 
 the fathers of some of them repaired^ to the 
 schools to see Cicero, and to have specirnens of 
 his capacity for literature ; but the less civilized 
 were angry with their sons, when they saw them 
 take Cicero in the middle of them as they walked, 
 and always give him the place of honour. He 
 had that turn of genius and disposition which 
 Plato J would have a scholar and philosopher to 
 possess. Pie had both the capacity and inclina- 
 tion to learn all the arts, nor was there any branch 
 of science that he despised ; yet he was most 
 inclined to poetry; and there is still extant a 
 poem, entitled Pontius Glaucus,% which was 
 written by him, when a boy, in tetra 7 neter verse. 
 In process of time, when he had studied this art 
 with greater application, he was looked upon as 
 the best poet, as well as the greatest orator, in 
 Rome. His reputation for oratory still remains, 
 notwithstanding the considerable changes that 
 have since been made in the language but, as 
 many ingenious poets have appeared since his 
 time, his poetry has lost its credit, and is now 
 neglected. H 
 
 When he had finished those studies through 
 which boys commonly pass, he attended the lec- 
 tures of Philo the academician, whom, of all the 
 scholars of Clitomachus, the Romans most ad- 
 mired for his eloquence, and loved for his con- 
 duct. At the same time he made great improve- 
 ment in the knowledge of the law, under IMucius 
 Scsevola, an eminent lawyer, and president of 
 the senate. He likewise got a taste of military 
 knowledge under Sylla, in the Marsian war.* 
 But afterwards, finding the commonwealth en- 
 gaged in civil wars, which were likely to end in 
 nothing but absolute monarchy, he withdrew to a 
 philosophic and contemplative life ; conversing 
 with men of letters from Greece, and making 
 farther advances in science. This method of life 
 he pursued till Sylla had made himself master, 
 and there appeared to be some established govern- 
 ment again. 
 
 About this time Sylla ordered the estate of one 
 of the citizens to be sold by auction, in conse- 
 quence of his being killed as a person proscribed ; 
 when it was struck off to Chrysogonus, Sylla’s 
 freedman, at the small sum of 2000 dracJuiice. 
 Roscius, the son and heir of the deceased, ex- 
 pressed his indignation, and declared that the 
 estate was worth 250 talents. Sylla, enraged at 
 having his conduct thus publicly called in ques- 
 tion, brought an action against Roscius for the 
 murder of his father, and appointed Chrysogonus 
 to be the manager. Such was the dread of 
 Sylla’s cruelty, that no man offered to appear in 
 defence of Roscius, and nothing seemed left for 
 him but to fail a sacrifice, In this distress he 
 applied to Cicero, and the friends of the young 
 orator desired him to undertake the cause ; think- 
 ing he could not have a more glorious opportunity 
 to enter the lists of fame. Accordingly he under- 
 took his defence, succeeded, and gained great 
 applause.-f* But, fearing Sylla’s resentment, he 
 travelled into Greece, and gave out that the 
 recovery of his health was the motive. Indeed, 
 he was of a lean and slender habit, and his 
 stomach was so weak that he was obliged to be 
 very sparing in his diet, and not to eat till a late 
 hour in the day. His voice, however, had a 
 variety of inflexions, but was at the same time 
 harsh and unformed ; and, as in the vehemence 
 and enthusiasm of speaking he always rose into a 
 loud key, there was reason to apprehend that it 
 might injure his health. 
 
 When he came to Athens, he heard Antiochus 
 the Ascalonite, and was charmed with the smooth- 
 ness and grace of his elocution, though he did 
 not approve his new doctrines in philosophy. 
 F or Antiochus had left the new academy, as it is 
 called, and the sect of Carneades, either from 
 clear conviction and from the strength of the 
 evidence of sense, or else from a spirit of opposi- 
 tion to the schools of Clitomachus and Philo, and 
 had adopted most of the doctrines of the Stoics. 
 But Cicero loved the new acaae 7 )iy, and entered 
 more and more into its opinions ; having already 
 
 * Pliny’s account of the origin of this name is 
 more probable. He supposes that the person who 
 first bore it was remarkable for the cultivation of 
 vetches. So Fabius, Lentulus, and Piso, had 
 their names from beans, tares, and peas. 
 
 t In the six hundred and forty-seventh year 
 of Rome : 104 years before the Christian era. 
 Pompey was born in the same year. 
 
 J Plato’s Commonwealth, lib. v. 
 
 § This Glaucus was a famous fisherman, who, 
 after eating of a certain herb, jumped into the 
 sea, and became one of the gods of that element. 
 iRschylus wrote a tragedy on the subject. 
 Cicero’s poem is lost. 
 
 11 Plutarch was a very indifferent judge of the 
 Latin poetry, and his speaking with so ^ much 
 favour of Cicero’s, contrary to the opinion of 
 Juvenal and many others, is a strong proof of it. 
 He translated Aratus into verse at the age of 
 
 seventeen, and wrote a poem in praise of the 
 actions of Marius, which Scsevola said would 
 live through innumerable ages. But he was out 
 in his prophecy. It has long been dead. And 
 the poem which he wrote in three books, on his 
 own consulship, has shared the same fate. 
 
 * In the eighteenth year of his age. 
 f In his twenty-seventh year. 
 
CICERO. 
 
 592 
 
 taken his resolution, if he failed in his design of ' manner he should punish Thyestes being worked 
 nsing in the state, to retire from \\i&/arum and up by his passion to a degree of "insanity with 
 all political intrigues, to Athens, and spend his his sceptre struck a servant who happened sud 
 days m peace in the bosom of philosophy. rv^ca .1 f ^ i. r_ . 
 
 denly to pass by, and laid him dead at his feet. 
 
 But not long after, he received the news of In conseguence of these helps, Cicero found hi , 
 Syllas death His body by this time was powers of persuasion not a little assisted by actior 
 strengthraed by exercise, and brought to a good and just pronunciation. But as for those orators 
 Imbit. Hw voice was formed ; and at the same .vho gave in to a bawling manner, he laughed at 
 tin^ that It was full and sonorous, had gained a them, and said, their weakness made them get 
 siima&nt sweetness, and was brought to a key up into clamour, as lame men get on horseback, 
 which his institution could bear. Besides, his His excellence at hitting off a jest or repartee 
 friends at Rome solicited him by letters to return, i--*- 
 
 and Antiochus exhorted him much to apply him- 
 self to public affairs. For which reasons he 
 exercised his rhetorical powers afresh, as the best 
 engines for business, and called forth his political 
 talents. In short, he suffered not a day to pass 
 
 anin^ted hLs pleadings, and therefore seemed net 
 foreign to the business of the /oru^m; but by 
 bringing it much inte life, he offended numbers 
 of people, and got the character of a malevolent 
 man. 
 
 He was appoint^ quaestor at a time when there 
 
 without either declaiming, or attending the most was a great scarcity of com ; and having Sicily 
 celebrated orators. In the prosecution of t.His ' for his province, he gave the people a great deal 
 design he ^iled to Asia and the island of Rhodes, of trouble at first, by compeilinr^ them to send 
 Amongst the rhetoricians of Asia, he availed him- their com to Rome. But afterwards, when they 
 ^Ifoftheinstmctionsof Xenoclesof Adramyttium, came to experience his diligence, his justice and 
 
 Dionysius of Magnesia, and Menippus of Caria. 
 At Rhodes he studied under the rhetoridan 
 Apolienrus the son of Molo," and the philosopher 
 Posidonius. It is said, that Apollonius, not 
 
 moderation, they honoured him more than any 
 qusestor that Rome bad ever sent them. About 
 that time, a number of young Romans of nolle 
 families, who lay under the charge of having 
 
 understanding the Roman language, desired ; violated the rules of disdpline, and not behaved 
 declaim m Greek ; and he readily com- | with suffident courage in time of service, were 
 plied, because he thought by that means his faults ' sent back to the praetor of Sicily. Cicero under- 
 
 might the better corrected. When he had 
 ended his declamation, the rest were astonished 
 at his performance, and strove which should 
 
 to^k their defence, and acquitted himself of it 
 with great ability and success. As he returned 
 to Rome, much elated with these advantages, he 
 
 praise him most ; but Apollonius showed no signs tells us * he met with a pleasant adventiS. " As 
 of pleasure while he was speaking ; and when he | he was on the road through Campania, meeting 
 had done, he sat a long time thoughtful and with a person of some eminence with whom he 
 silent. At last, observing the uneasiness it gave ' ... .... 
 
 his pupil, he said, As for you, Cicero, I praise 
 and admire you ; but I am concerned for the fate 
 of Greece. She had nothing left her l^t the 
 
 was acquainted, he asked him, what they said 
 and thought of his actions in Rome, imagining 
 that his name and the glory of his achievements 
 — — . had filled the whole dty. His acquaintance 
 glory of eloquence and emdition, and you are | answ ered, “ Why, where have you b^n, then. 
 
 carrying that too to Rome. 
 
 Cicero now prepared to apply himself to public 
 
 I Cicero, all this time ? ” 
 
 This answer dispirited him extremely ; for he 
 
 affairs with meat hojies of success : but his spirit found that the accounts of his conduct bad been 
 received a check from the oracle at Delphi. For lost in Rome, as in an immense sea, and had 
 upon his inquiring by what means he might rise ■ made no remarkable addition to his reputation, 
 to the greatest glory, the jmestess bade him . By mature reflection upon this incident, he was 
 follow nature, and not take the opinion of the j brought to retrench his ambition, because he saw 
 multitude for the guide of his life. Hence it j that contention for glory was an endless thing, 
 was, that a'^ter his coming to Rome he acted at and had neither measure nor bounds to terminate 
 
 ■firct' r^iifrirvn ^-r\A 2 Ji 1 - 
 
 first with great caution. He was timorous and 
 backward in appljring for public offices, and had 
 the mortification to find himself neglected, and 
 called a Greeks a scholastic; terms which the 
 artisans, and others the meanest of the Romans. 
 
 it. Nevertheless, his immoderate love of praise, 
 and his passion for glory, always remained with 
 him, and often interrupted his best and wisest 
 'esigns. 
 
 When he beean to dedicate himself more 
 
 are very liberal in applying. But, as he was ^ earnestly to public business, he thou^t that. 
 
 naturally ambitious to honour, and spurred on 
 besides by his father and his friends, he betook 
 himself to the bar. Nor w'as it by slow and 
 insensible degrees that he gained the palm of 
 eloquence ; his fame shot forth at once, and he 
 was distinguished above all the orators of Rome. 
 Yet it is ^id that his turn for action w'as naturally 
 
 while mechanic:: knew the name, the place, the 
 use of every tool and instrument they take in 
 their hands, though those things are inanimate, it 
 would be absurd for a statesman, %i,hoie functions 
 cannot be performed but by means of men, to be 
 negligent in acquainting hinrself . ith the citizens. 
 He therefore made it his busine- . to commit to 
 
 as defective as that of Demosthenes ; and thers- j memory not only their names, but the place of 
 fore he took all the advantage he could from the abode of those of greater note, what friends they 
 
 instruction of Roscius, who excelled in comedy, — ^ ' — ----li • 
 
 and of .^sop, whose talents lay in tragedy. This 
 i5isop, we are told, when he was one day acting 
 Atreus, in the part where he considers in what 
 
 * Not Apollonius the son of MolOf but Apollo- 
 7UUS Molo. The same mistake is made by our 
 author in the Life of Caesar, 
 
 made use of, and what neighbours were in their 
 circle. So that whates-er road in Italy Cicero 
 travelled, he c^-ld easily point out the estates 
 and houses of hi* frkr:^5. 
 
 Though his own estate was sufficient for his 
 necessities, yet, as it was small, it seemed strange 
 
 In his oration for Plancius. 
 
592 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 that he would take neither fee nor present for his 
 services at the bar. This was most remark- 
 able in the case of Verres. Verres had been 
 prcctor in Sicily, and committed nurnberless acts 
 of injustice and oppression. The Sicilians pro- 
 secuted him, and Cicero gained the cause for 
 them, not so much by pleading, as by forbearing 
 to plead. The magistrates, in their partiality to 
 Verres, put off the trial by several adjournments 
 to the last day ; * and as Cicero knew there was 
 not time for the advocates to be heard, and the 
 matter determined in the usual method, he rose 
 up, and said there was no occasion for pleadings. 
 He therefore brought up the witnesses, and after 
 their depositions were taken, insisted that the 
 judges should give their verdict immediately. 
 
 Yet v/e have an account of several humorous 
 sayings of Cicero’s in this cause. When an 
 emancipated slave, Csecilius by name, who was 
 suspected of being a Jew, would have set aside 
 the Sicilians, and taken the prosecution of Verres 
 upon himself,! Cicero said, ‘ ‘ What has a Jew to do 
 with swine’s flesh ? ” For the Romans call a boar- 
 pig verres. And when Verres reproached Cicero 
 with effeminacy, he answered, “Why do you not 
 first reprove your own children ? ” For Verres had 
 a young son who was supposed to make an in- 
 famous use of his advantages of person. Hor- 
 tensius the orator did not venture directly to 
 plead the cause of Verres, but he was prevailed 
 on to appear for him at the laying of the fine, and 
 had received an ivory sphiitx from him by way of 
 consideration. In this case Cicero threw out 
 several enigmatical hints against Hortensius ; and 
 when he said he knew not how to solve riddles, 
 Cicero retorted, “ That is somewhat strange, when 
 you have a sphinx in your house.” 
 
 Verres being thus condemned, Cicero set his 
 fine at 750,000 drachvKX ; upon which, it was 
 said by censorious people, that he had_ been 
 bribed to let him off so low.J The Sicilians, 
 however, in acknowledgment of his assistance, 
 brought him when he was sedile a number of 
 things for his games, and other very valuable 
 presents ; but he was so far from considering his 
 private advantage, that he made no other use of 
 their generosity than to lower the price of pro- 
 visions. 
 
 He had a handsome country seat at Arpinum, 
 a farm near Naples, and another at Pompeii, but 
 neither of them were very considerable. His 
 wife Terentia brought him a fortune of 120,000 
 denarii, and he fell heir to something that 
 amounted to 90,000 more. Upon this he lived in 
 a genteel, and at the same time a frugal manner, 
 
 * Not till the last day. Cicero brought it on 
 a few days before Verres’s friends were to come 
 into office ; but of the seven orations which were 
 composed on the occasion, the two first only were 
 delivered, a. u. 683. 
 
 J Cicero knew that Csecilius v/as secretly a 
 friend to Verres, and wanted by this means to 
 bring him off. 
 
 This fine indeed was very inconsiderable. 
 The legal fine for extortion, in such cases as that 
 of Verres, was twice the sum extorted. The 
 Sicilians laid a charge of ;^322,9i6 against Verres ; 
 the fine must therefore have been but 
 
 750,000 drachmae was no more than 24, 2 18. 
 
 Plutarch must, therefore, most probably have 
 been mistaken. 
 
 with men of letters, both Greeks^ and Romans, 
 around him. He rarely took his meal before 
 sunset ; not that business or study prevented his 
 sitting down to table sooner, but the weakness of 
 his stomach, he thought, required that regimen. 
 Indeed, he was so exact in all respects in the care 
 of his health, that he had his stated hours for 
 rubbing and for the exercise of walking. By 
 this management of his constitution, he gained a 
 sufficient stock of health and strength for the great 
 labours and fatigues he afterwards underwent. 
 
 He gave up the town house which belonged to 
 his family to his brother, and took up his resi- 
 dence on the Palatine hill, that those who came 
 to pay their court to him might not have too far 
 to go. For he had a levee every day, not less 
 than Crassus had for his great wealth, or Pompey 
 for his power and interest in the army ; though 
 they were the most followed, and the greatest 
 men in Rome. Pompey himself paid all due 
 respect to Cicero, and found his political assistance 
 very useful to him, both in respect to power and 
 reputation. 
 
 When Cicero stood for the prsetorship, he had 
 many competitors who were persons of distinction, 
 and yet he was returned first. As a president in 
 the courts of justice, he acted with great integrity 
 and honour. Licinius Macer, who had great 
 interest of his own, and was supported, besides, 
 with that of Crassus, was accused before him of 
 some default with respect to money. He had so 
 much confidence in his own influence and the 
 activity of his friends, that, when the judges were 
 going to decide the cause, it is said he went 
 home, cut his hair, and put on a white habit, as if 
 he had gained the victory, and was about to 
 return so equipped to the forum. But Crassus 
 met him in the court-yard, and told him that all 
 the judges had given verdict against him ; which 
 affected him in such a manner that he turned in 
 again, took to his bed, and died.* Cicero gained 
 honour by this affair, for it appeared that he kept 
 strict watch against corruption in the court. 
 
 There was another person, named Vatinius, an 
 insolent orator who paid very little respect to the 
 judges in his pleadings. It happened that he had 
 his neck full of scrofulous swellings. This man 
 applied to Cicero about some business or other ; 
 and as that magistrate did not immediately comply 
 with his request, but sat some time deliberating, 
 he said, “ I could easily swallow such a thing, if 
 I was praetor;” upon which, Cicero turned to- 
 wards him, and made answer, “ But I have not 
 so large a neck.” 
 
 When there were only two or three days of his 
 office unexpired, an information was laid against 
 Manilius for embezzling the public money. This 
 
 * The story is related differently by Valerius 
 Maximus. He says that Macer was in court 
 waiting the issue, and, perceiving that Cicero was 
 proceeding to give sentence against him, he sent 
 to inform him that he was dead, and at the same 
 time suffocated himself with his handkerchief. 
 Cicero, therefore, did not pronounce sentence 
 against him, by which means .his estate was saved 
 to his son Licinius Calvus. Notwithstanding 
 this, Cicero himself, in one of his epistles to 
 Atticus, says, that he actually condemned him; 
 and in another of his epistles he speaks of the 
 popular esteem this affair procured him. Cic. 
 Ep, ad A tt. 1 . i. c. 3, 4. 
 
CICERO. 
 
 Manilius was a favourite of the people, and they 
 thought he was only prosecuted on Pompey’s ac- 
 count, being his particul^ friend. He desired to 
 have a day fixed for his trial ; and, as Cicero 
 appointed the next day, the people were much 
 offended, because it had been customary for the 
 praetors to allow the accused ten days at the least. 
 The tribunes therefore cited Cicero to appear 
 before the commons, and give an account of this 
 proceeding. He desired to be heard in his own 
 defence, which was to this effect: “As I have 
 always l^haved to persons impeached with all the 
 moderation and humanity that the laws will allow, 
 I thought it wrong to lose the opportunity of 
 treating Manilius with the same candour, I was 
 master only of one day more in my office of praetor, 
 and con^quently must appoint that ; for to leave 
 the decision of the cause to another magistrate 
 was not the method for those w’ho were inclined 
 to serve Manilius.” This made a wonderful 
 change in the minds of the people ; they were 
 lavish in their praises, and desired him to under- 
 take the defence himself. This he readily com- 
 plied with; his regard for Pompey, who was 
 absent, not being his least inducement In con- 
 sequence hereof, he presented himself before the 
 commons ^ain, and giving an account of the 
 whole affair, took opportunity to make severe 
 reflections on those who favoured oligarchy, and 
 envied the glory of Pompey. 
 
 Yet, for the sake of their country, the patricians 
 joined the plebei^s in raising him. to the consul- 
 ship, The occasion was this. The change which 
 Sylla introduced into the constitution at first 
 ^emed harsh and uneasy, but by time and custom 
 it came to an establishment which many thought 
 not a bad one. At present there were some who 
 wanted to bring in another change, merely to 
 gratify their own avarice, and without the least 
 view to the public good. Pompey was engaged 
 with the kings of Pontus and Armenia, and there 
 was no force in Rome sufficient to suppress the 
 authors of this intended innovation. They had a 
 chief of a bold and enterprising spirit, and the most 
 remarkable versatility of manners ; his name 
 Lucius Catiline. Besides a variety of other crimes, 
 he was accused of debauching his own daughter, 
 and k illi n g his own brother. To screen himself 
 from prosecution for the latter, he p>ersuaded Sylla 
 to put his brother among the proscribed, as if he 
 had been still alive. These profligates, with such 
 a leader, among other engagements of secrecy and 
 fidelity, sacrificed a man, and ate of his flesh. 
 Catiline had corrupted great part of the Roman 
 youth by indulging their desires in every form 
 of pleasure, providing them wine and women, 
 and setting no bounds to his expenses for these 
 purposes. All Tuscany was prepared for the 
 revolt, and most of Cisalpine Gaul. The vast 
 inequality of the citizens in point of property pre- 
 pared Rome too for a ch^ge. Men of spirit 
 amongst the nobility had impoverished themselves 
 by their great expenses on public exhibitions and 
 entertainments, on bribing for offices, and erecting 
 magnificent buildings ; by which means the riches 
 of the city were f^len into the hands of mean 
 people ; in this tottering state of the common- 
 wealth there needed no great force to overset it, 
 and it was in the power of any bold adventurer to 
 accomplish its ruin. 
 
 _ Catiline, however, before he began his opera- 
 tions, wanted a strong fort to sally out from, and 
 
 593 
 
 with that view stood for the consulship. His 
 prospect seemed very promising, because he hoped 
 to have Caius Antonius for his colleague ; a man 
 who had no fim principles, either good or bad, 
 nor any resolution of his own, but would make a 
 considerable addition to the power of him that led 
 him. Many persons of virtue and honour, j>er- 
 ceiving this danger, put up Cicero for the consul- 
 ship, and the people accepted him with pleasure. 
 Thus Catiline was baffled, and Cicero * and Caius 
 Antonius appointed consuls ; though Cicero’s 
 father was only of the equestrian order, and his 
 competitors of patrician families. 
 
 Catiline’s designs were not yet discovered to the 
 people. Cicero, however, at his entrance upon 
 his office, had great affairs on his hands, the pre- 
 ludes of what was to follow. On the one han d, 
 those who had been incapacitated by the laws of 
 Sylla to bear offices, being neither inconsiderable 
 in pow’er nor in number, began now to solicit 
 them, and make all possible interest with the 
 people. It is true, they alleged many just and 
 good arguments against the tyranny of Sylla, but 
 it was an imseasonable time to give the adminis- 
 tration so much trouble. On the other h.and, the 
 tribunes of the people proposed laws which had 
 the same tendency to distress the government ; 
 for they w^anted to appoint decemvirs, and invest 
 them with an unlimited power. This was to 
 extend over all Italy, over Syria, and all the late 
 conquests of Pompey. They were to be commis- 
 sioned to sell the public lands in these countries ; 
 to judge or banish whom they pleased ; to plant 
 colonies ; to take money out of the public treasury ; 
 to levy and keep on foot what troops they thought 
 necessary. Many Romans of high distinction 
 were pleased with the bill, and in particular 
 Antony, Cicero’s colleague, for he hoped to be 
 one of the ten. It was thought, too, that he was 
 no stranger to Catiline’s designs, and that he did 
 not disrelish them on account of his great debts. 
 This was an alarming circumstance to all who had 
 the good of their country at heart. 
 
 This danger, too, was the first that Cicero 
 guarded against ; which he did by getting the 
 province of Macedonia decreed to Antony, and 
 not taking that of Gaul which was allotted to him- 
 self. Antony was so much affected wdth this 
 favour, that he was ready, like a hired player, to 
 act a subordinate part imder Cicero for the benefit 
 of his country. Cicero having thus managed his 
 colleague, began wdth greater courage to take his 
 measures against the seditious party. He alleged 
 his objections against the law in the senate, and 
 effectually silenced the proposers.-f* They took 
 another opportimity, how'ever, and coming pre- 
 pared, insisted that the consuls should appear 
 before the i>eople. Cicero, not in the least intimi- 
 dated, commanded the senate to follow him. He 
 addressed the commons with such success, that 
 they threw out the bill ; and his victorious elo- 
 quence had such an effect upon the tribunes, that 
 they gave up other things which they had been 
 meditating. 
 
 He was indeed the man who most effectually 
 showed the Romans what charms eloquence can 
 add to truth, and that justice is invincible when 
 properly supported. He showred also, that a 
 
 ♦ In his forty- third year. 
 
 •j- This was ^e first of his three orations el^ Lege 
 Agraria. 
 
 2 Q 
 
594 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 magistrate who watches for the good of the com- 
 munity should in his actions always prefer right 
 to popular measures, and in his speeches know 
 how to make those right measures agreeable, by 
 separating from them whatever may offend. Of 
 the grace and power with which he spoke, we 
 have a proof in a theatrical regulation that took 
 place in his consulship. Before, those of the 
 equestrian order sat mixed with the commonalty. 
 Marcus Otho, in his praetorship, was the first 
 who separated the knights from the other citizens, 
 and appointed them seats which they still enjoy.* 
 The people looked upon this as a mark of dis- 
 honour, and hissed and insulted Otho when he 
 appeared at the theatre. The knights, on the 
 other hand, received him with loud plaudits. 
 The people repeated their hissing, and the 
 knights their applause ; till at last they came to 
 mutual reproaches, and threw the whole theatre 
 into the utmost disorder. Cicero being informed 
 of the disturbance, came and called the people 
 to the temple of Bellona ; where, partly by re- 
 proof, partly by lenient applications, he so cor- 
 rected them, that they returned to the theatre, 
 loudly testified their approbation of Otho’s con- 
 duct, and strove with the knights which should 
 do him the most honour. 
 
 Cataline’s conspiracy, which at first had been 
 intimidated and discouraged, began to recover 
 its spirits. The accomplices assembled, and ex- 
 horted each other to begin their operations with 
 vigour, before the return of Pompey, who was 
 said to be already marching homewards with his 
 forces. But Cataline’s chief motive for action 
 was the dependence he had on Sylla’s veterans. 
 Though these were scattered all over Italy, the 
 greatest and most warlike part resided in the 
 cities of Etruria, and in idea were plundering and 
 sharing the wealth of Italy again. They had 
 Manlius for their leader, a man who had served 
 with great distinction under* Sylla ; and now 
 entering into Catiline’s views, they came to 
 Rome to assist in the approaching election ; for 
 he solicited the consulship again, and had re- 
 solved to kill Cicero in the tumult of that as- 
 sembly. 
 
 The gods seemed to presignify the machinations 
 of these incendiaries by earthquakes, thunders, 
 and apparitions. There were also intimations 
 from men, true enough in themselves, but not 
 sufficient for the conviction of a person of Cati- 
 line’s quality and power. Cicero, therefore, ad- 
 journed the day of election ; and having sum- 
 moned Catiline before the senate, examined him 
 upon the informations he had received. Catiline, 
 believing there were many in the senate who 
 wanted a change, and at the same time being 
 desirous to show his resolution to his accomplices 
 who were present, answered with a calm firm- 
 ness : “As there are two bodies, one of which is 
 feeble and decayed, but has a head ; the other 
 strong and robust, but is without a head ; what 
 harm am I doing, if I give a head to the body 
 that wants it?” By these enigiflatical expres- 
 sions he meant the senate and the people. Con- 
 sequently Cicero was still more alarmed. On 
 the day of election he put on a coat of mail ; the 
 principal persons in Rome conducted him from his 
 
 * About four years before, under the consul- 
 ship of Piso and Glabrio. But Otho was not 
 then praetor. He was tribune. 
 
 house, and great numbers of the youth attended 
 him to the Ca^npus Martitis. There he threw 
 back his robe, and showed part of the coat of 
 mail, on purpose to point out his danger. The 
 people were incensed, and immediately gathered 
 about him ; the consequence of which was, that 
 Catiline was thrown out again, and Silanus and 
 Murena chosen consuls. 
 
 Not long after this, when the veterans were 
 assembling for Catiline in Etruria, and the day 
 appointed for carrying the plot into execution 
 approached, three of the first and greatest per- 
 sonages in Rome, Marcus Crassus, Marcus Mar- 
 cellus, and Metellus Scipio, went and knocked at 
 Cicero’s door about midnight ; and having called 
 the porter, bade him awake his master, and tell 
 him who attended. Their business was this : 
 Crassus’s porter brought him in a packet of 
 letters after supper, which he had received from 
 a person unknown. They were directed to dif- 
 ferent persons, and there was one for Crassus 
 himself, but without a name. This only Crassus 
 read ; and when he found that it informed him 
 of a great massacre intended by Catiline, and 
 warned him to retire out of the city, he did not 
 open the rest, but immediately went to wait on 
 Cicero : for he was not only terrified at the 
 impending danger, but he had some suspicions 
 to remove which had arisen from his acquaintance 
 with Catiline. Cicero having consulted with 
 them what was proper to be done, assembled the 
 senate at break of day, and delivered the letters 
 according to the directions, desiring at the same 
 time that they might be read in public. They all 
 gave the same account of the conspiracy. 
 
 Quintus Arrius, a man of praetorian dignity, 
 moreover, informed the senate of the levies that 
 had been made in Etruria, and assured them that 
 Manlius, with a considerable force, was hovering 
 about those parts, and only waiting for news of 
 an insurrection in Rome. On these informations, 
 the senate made a decree, by which all affairs 
 were committed to the consuls, and they were 
 empowered to act in the manner they should 
 think best for the preservation of the common- 
 wealth. This is an edict which the senate seldom 
 issue, and never but in some great and imminent 
 danger. 
 
 When Cicero was invested with this power, he 
 committed the care of things without the city to 
 Quintus Metellus, and took the direction of all 
 within to himself. He made his appearance 
 every day attended and guarded by such a 
 multitude of people, that they filled great part 
 of the forum. Catiline, unable to bear any 
 longer delay, determined to repair to Manlius 
 and his army ; and ordered Marcius and Cethe- 
 gus to take their swords and go to Cicero’s house 
 early in the morning, where, under pretence of 
 paying their compliments, they were to fall upon 
 him and kill him. But Fulvia, a wornan of 
 quality, went to Cicero in the night to inform 
 him of his danger, and charged him to be on his 
 guard in particular against Cethegus. As soon 
 as it was light, the assassins came, and being 
 denied entrance, they grew very insolent and 
 clamorous, which made them the more suspected. 
 
 Cicero went out afterwards, and assembled the 
 senate in the temple of Jupiter Stator, which 
 stands at the entrance of the Via Sacra, in the 
 way to the Palatine hill. Catiline came among 
 the rest, as with a design to make his defence ; 
 
CICERO. 
 
 595 
 
 but there was not a senator who would sit by 
 him ; they all left the bench he had taken ; and 
 when he began to speak, they interrupted him in 
 such a manner that he could not be heard. 
 
 At length Cicero rose up, and commanded him 
 to depart the city ; “ for,” said he, “ while I 
 employ only words, and you weapons, there 
 should at least be walls between us.” Catiline, 
 upon this, immediately marched out with 300 
 men well armed, and with the fasces and other 
 ensigns of authority, as if he had been a lawful 
 magistrate. In this form he went to hlanlius, 
 and having assembled an army of 20,000 men, he 
 marched to the cities, in order to persuade them 
 to revolt. Hostilities having thus openly com- 
 menced, Antony, Cicero’s colleague, was sent 
 against Catiline. 
 
 Such as Catiline had corrupted, and thought 
 proper to leave in Rome, were kept together and 
 encouraged by Cornelius Lentulus, surnamed 
 Sura, a man of noble birth, but bad life. He 
 had been expelled the senate for his debaucheries, 
 but was then praetor the second time ; for that 
 was a customary qualification when ejected per- 
 sons were to be restored to their places in the 
 senate.* As to the surname of Sura, it is said 
 to have been given him on this occasion. When 
 he was quaestor in the time of Sylla, he had 
 lavished away vast sums of the public money. 
 Sylla, incensed at his behaviour, demanded an 
 account of him in full senate. Lentulus came up 
 in_ a very careless and disrespectful manner, and 
 said, “ I have no account to give, but I present 
 you with the calf of my leg ; ” which was a 
 common expression among the boys, when they 
 missed their stroke at tennis. Hence he had the 
 surname of Sura, which is the Roman word for 
 the calf of the leg. Another time, being pro- 
 secuted for some great offence, he corrupted the 
 judges. When they had given their verdict, 
 though he was acquitted only by a majority of 
 two, he said he had put himself to a needless 
 expense in bribing one of those judges, for it 
 would have been sufficient to have had a majority 
 of one. 
 
 Such was the disposition of this man, wffio had 
 not only been solicited by Catiline, but was more- 
 over infatuated with vain hopes, which prognosti- 
 cators and other impostors held up to him. They 
 forged verses in an oracular form, and brought him 
 them as from the books of the Sibyls. These 
 lying prophecies signified the decree of fate, that 
 three of the Cornelii would be monarchs of Rome. 
 They added, that two had already fulfilled their 
 destiny, Cinna and Sylla ; that he was the third 
 Cornelius whom the gods now offered the mon- 
 archy ; and that he ought by all means to embrace 
 his high fortune, and not ruin it by delays, as 
 Catiline had done. 
 
 Nothing little or trivial now entered into the 
 schemes of Lentulus. He resolved to kill the 
 whole senate, and as many of the other citizens as 
 he possibly could ; to burn the city, and to spare 
 none but the sons of Pompey, whom he intended 
 to seize and keep as pledges of his peace with that 
 general : for by this time it was strongly reported 
 that he was on his return from his great expedi- 
 
 * When a Roman senator was expelled, an 
 appointment to praetorial office was a sufficient 
 qualification for him to resume his seat. Dion. 
 1. xxxvii. 
 
 tion. The conspirators had fixed on a night during 
 the feast of the Saturtialia for the execution of 
 their enterprise. They had lodged arms and 
 combustible matter in the house of Cethegus. 
 They had divided Rome into a hundred parts, 
 and pitched upon the same number of men, each 
 of whom was allotted his quarter to set fire to. As 
 this was to be done by them all at the same 
 moment, they hoped that the conflagration would 
 be general ; others were to intercept the water, 
 and kill all that went to seek it. 
 
 While these things were preparing, there hap- 
 pened to be at Rome two ambassadors from the 
 Allobroges, a nation that had been much oppressed 
 by the Romans, and was very impatient under 
 their yoke. Lentulus and his party thought these 
 ambassadors proper persons to raise commotions 
 in Gaul, and bring that country to their interest, 
 and therefore made them partners in the con- 
 spiracy. They likewise charged them with letters 
 to their magistrates and to Catiline. To the 
 Gauls they promised liberty, and they desired 
 Catiline to enfranchise the slaves, and march 
 immediately to Rome. Along with the ambas- 
 sadors they sent one Titus of Crotona to carry the 
 letter to Catiline. But the measures of these in- 
 considerate men, who generally consulted upon 
 their affairs over their wine and in company with 
 women, were soon discovered by the indefatigable 
 diligence, the sober address, and great capacity 
 of Cicero. He had his emissaries in all parts of 
 the city, to trace every step they took ; and had, 
 besides, a secret correspondence with many who 
 pretended to join in the conspiracy; by which 
 means he got intelhgence of their treating with 
 those strangers. 
 
 In consequence hereof, he laid an ambush for 
 the Crotonian in the night, and seized him and 
 the letters ; the ambassadors themselves privately 
 lending him their assistance.* Early in the morn- 
 ing he assembled the senate in the temple of 
 Concord, where he read the letters, and took the 
 depositions of the witnesses. Junius Silanus de- 
 posed, that several persons had heard Cethegus 
 say, that three consuls and four praetors would 
 very soon he killed. The evidence of Piso, a man 
 of consular dignity, contained circumstances of 
 the like nature. And Caius Sulpitius, one of the 
 praetors, who was sent to Cethegus’s house, found 
 there a great quantity of javefins, swords, pon- 
 iards, and other arms, all new furbished. At 
 last the senate giving the Crotonian a promise of 
 indemnity, Lentulus saw himself entirely detected, 
 and laid down his office (for he was then praetor) : 
 he put off his purple robe in the house, and took 
 another more suitable to his present distress. 
 Upon which, both he and his accomplices were 
 delivered to the praetors, to be kept in custody, 
 but not in chains. 
 
 By this time it grew late, and as the people 
 were waiting without in great numbers for the 
 event of the day, Cicero went out and gave them 
 an account of it. After which, they conducted 
 him to the house of a friend who lived in his 
 neighbourhood ; his own being taken up with the 
 women, who were then employed in the myste- 
 
 _* These ambassadors had been solicited by 
 L’mbrenus to join his party. Upon mature de- 
 liberation they thought it safest to abide by the 
 state, and discovered the plot to Fabius Sanga, 
 the patron of their nation. 
 
596 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 rious rites of the goddess whom the Romans call 
 Bonci or the Good, and the Greeks Gynecea. An 
 annual sacrifice is offered her in the consul’s house 
 by his wife and mother, and the vestal virgins 
 give their atteiadance. When Cicero was retired 
 to the apartments assigned him, with only a few 
 friends, he began to consider what punishment he 
 should inflict upon the criminals. He was ex- 
 tremely loath to proceed to a capital one, which 
 the nature of theur offence seemed to demand, as 
 well by reason of the mildness of his disposition, 
 as for fear of incurring the censure of making an 
 extravagant and severe use of his power against 
 men who were of the first families, and had power- 
 ful connections in Rome. On the other side, if he 
 gave them a more gentle chastisement, he thought 
 he should still have something to fear from them. 
 He knew that they would never rest with any 
 thing less than death, but would rather break out 
 into the most desperate villainies, when their 
 former wickedness was sha^ened with anger and 
 resentment. Besides, he might himself be branded 
 with the marks of timidity and weakness, and the 
 rather because he was generally supposed not to 
 have much courage. 
 
 Before Cicero could come to a resolution, the 
 women who were sacrificing observed an extra- 
 ordinary presage. When the fire on the altar 
 seemed to be extinguished, a strong and bright 
 flame suddenly broke out of the embers. The 
 other women were terrified at the prodigy, but 
 the vestal virgins ordered Terentia, Cicero’s wife, 
 to go to him immediately, and command him, 
 from them, boldly to follow his best judgment in 
 the service of his country ; because the goddess, 
 by the brightness of this flame, promised him not 
 only safety but glory in his enterprise. Terentia 
 was by no means of a meek and timorous dispo- 
 sition, but had her ambition, and (as Cicero him- 
 self says) took a greater share with him in politics 
 than she permitted him to have in domestic busi- 
 ness. She now informed him of the prodigy, and 
 exasperated him against the criminals. His 
 brother Quintus, and Publius Nigidius, one of his 
 philosophical friends, whom he made great use of 
 in the administration, strengthened him in the 
 same purpose. 
 
 Next day the senate met to deliberate on the 
 punishment of the conspirators, and Silanus, being 
 first asked his opinion, gave it for sending them 
 to prison, and punishing them in the severest 
 manner that was possible. The rest in their order 
 agreed with him, till it came to Caius Caesar, who 
 was afterwards dictator. Caesar, then a young 
 m.in, and just in the dawn of power, both in his 
 measures and his hopes, was taking that road 
 which he continued in, till he turned the Roman 
 commonwealth into a monarchy. This. was not 
 observed by others, but Cicero had strong sus- 
 picions of him. He took care, however, not to 
 give him a sufficient handle against him. Some 
 say the consul had almost got the necessary proofs, 
 and that Caesar had a narrow escape. Others 
 assert, that Cicero purposely neglected the inform- 
 ations that might have been had against him, 
 for fear of his friends and his great interest. For, 
 had Caesar been brought under the same predica- 
 ment with the conspirators, it would rather have 
 contributed to save than to destroy them. 
 
 When it came to his turn to give judgment, he 
 rose and declared not for punishing them 
 capitally, but for confiscating their estates, and 
 
 lodging them in any of the towns of Italy that 
 Cicero should pitch upon, where they might be 
 kept in chains till Catiline was conquered.* To 
 this opinion, which was on the merciful side, and 
 supported with great eloquence by him who gave 
 it, Cicero himself added no small weight : for in 
 his speech he gave the arguments at large for 
 both opinions, first for the former, and afterwards 
 for tnat of Caesar. And all Cicero’s friends, 
 thinking it would be less invidious for him to 
 avoid putting the criminals to death, were for the 
 latter sentence : insomuch that even Silanus 
 changed sides, and excused himself by saying 
 that he did not mean capital punishment, for that 
 imprisonment was the severest which a Roman 
 senator could suffer. 
 
 The matter thus went on till it came to Lutatius 
 Catulus. He declared for capital punishment ; 
 and Cato supported him, expressing in strong 
 terms his suspicions of Caesar ; which so roused 
 the spirit and indignation of the senate, that they 
 made a decree for sending the conspirators to 
 execution. Caesar then opposed the confiscating 
 their goods ; for he said it was unreasonable, 
 when they rejected the mild part of his sentence, 
 to adopt the severe. As the majority still insisted 
 upon it, he appealed to the tribunes. The 
 tribunes, indeed, did not put in their prohibition, 
 but Cicero himself gave up the point, and agreed 
 that the goods should not be forfeited. 
 
 After this, Cicero went at the head of the senate 
 to the criminals, who were not all lodged in one 
 house, but in those of the several prsetors. First 
 he took Lentulus from the Palatine hill, and led 
 him down the Via Sacra, and through the middle 
 of the Jorum. The principal persons in Rome 
 attended the consul on all sides, like a guard ; the 
 people stood silent at the horror of the scene ; 
 and the youth looked on with fear and astonish- 
 ment, as if they were initiated that day in some 
 awful ceremonies of aristocratic power. When 
 he had passed the forum, and was come to the 
 prison, he delivered Lentulus to the executioner. 
 Afterwards he brought Cethegus, and all the rest 
 in their order, and they were put to death. In 
 his return he saw others who were in the con- 
 spiracy standing thick in the forujn. As these 
 knew not the fate of their ringleaders, they were 
 waiting for night, in order to go to their rescue, 
 for they supposed them yet alive. Cicero, there- 
 fore, called out to them aloud, “They did live.” 
 The Romans, who choose to avoid all inauspicious 
 words, in this manner express death. 
 
 By this time it grew late, and as he passed 
 through the fomim to go to his own house, the 
 people now did not conduct him in a silent and 
 orderly . manner, but crowded to hail him with 
 loud acclamations and plaudits, calling him the 
 saviour and second fotmder of Rome. The 
 streets were illuminated t with a multitude of 
 lamps and torches placed by the doors. The 
 women held out lights from the tops of the houses, 
 that they might behold, and pay a proper com- 
 
 * Plutarch seems here to intimate, that after 
 the defeat of Catiline, they might be put upon 
 their trial ; but it appears from Sallust that Csesar 
 had no such intention. 
 
 f Illuminations are of high antiquity. They 
 came originally from the nocturnal celebration of 
 religious mysteries ; and on that account carried 
 the idea of veneration and respect with them. 
 
CICERO, ■ 597 
 
 pliment to, the man who was followed with 
 solemnity by a train of the greatest men in Rome, 
 most of whom had distinguished themselves by 
 successful wars, led up triumphs, and enlarged 
 the empire both by sea and land. All these, in 
 their discourse with each other as they went 
 along, acknowledged that Rome was indebted to 
 many generals and great men of that age for 
 pecuniary acquisitions, for rich spoils, for power ; 
 but for preservation and safety to Cicero alone, 
 who had rescued her from so great and dreadful 
 a danger. Not that his quashing the enterprise, 
 and punishing the delinquents, appeared so ex- 
 traordinary a thing ; but the wonder was, that he 
 could suppress the greatest conspiracy that ever 
 existed, with so little inconvenience to the state, 
 without the least sedition or tumult. For many 
 who had joined Catiline left him on receiving 
 intelligence of the fate of Lentulus and Cethegus ; 
 and that traitor, giving Antony battle wdth the 
 troops that remained, was destroyed with his whole 
 army. 
 
 Yet some were displeased with this conduct and 
 success of Cicero, and inclined to do him all 
 possible injury. At the head of this faction were 
 some of the magistrates for the ensuing year ; 
 Caesar, who was to be praetor, and Metellus and 
 Bestia, tribunes.* These last, entering upon their 
 office a few days before that of Cicero’s expired, 
 would not suffer him to address the people. 
 They placed their own benches on the rostra^ 
 and only gave him permission to take the oath 
 upon laying down his office,! after which he was 
 to descend immediately. Accordingly, when 
 Cicero went up, it was expected that he would 
 take the customary oath ; but silence being made, 
 instead of the usual form, he adopted one that 
 was new and singular. The purport of it was, 
 that he had saved his country, and preserved the 
 empire ; and all the people joined in it. 
 
 This exasperated Caesar and the tribunes still 
 more, and they endeavoured to create him new 
 troubles. Among other things they proposed a 
 decree for calling Pompey home with his army to 
 suppress the despotic power of Cicero. It was 
 happy for him, and for the whole commonwealth, 
 that Cato was then one of the tribunes ; for he 
 opposed them with an authority equal to theirs, 
 and a reputation that was much greater, and 
 consequently broke their measures with ease. He 
 made a set speech upon Cicero’s consulship, and 
 represented it in so glorious a light that the 
 highest honours were decreed him, and. he was 
 called ike father of his country ; a mark of dis- 
 tinction which none ever gained before. Cato 
 bestowed that title on him before the people, and 
 they confirmed it.J 
 
 His authority in Rome at that time was 
 undoubtedly great ; but he rendered himself ob- 
 noxious and burdensome to many, not by any ill 
 action, but by continually praising and magnify- 
 ing himself. He never entered the senate, the 
 assembly of the people, or the courts of judicature, 
 
 * Bestia went out of office on the eighth of 
 December. Metellus and Sextius were tribunes. 
 
 t The consuls took two oaths ; one, on entering 
 into their office, that they would act according to 
 the laws ; and the other, on quitting it, that they 
 had not acted contrary to the laws. 
 
 J Q. Cains was the first who gave him the title. 
 Cato, as tribune, confirmed it before the people. 
 
 but Catiline and Lentulus were the burden of his 
 song. Not satisfied with this, his writings were 
 so interlarded with encomiums on himself, that 
 though his style was elegant and delightful, his 
 discourses were disgusting and nauseous to the 
 reader ; for the blemish stuck to him like an 
 incurable disease. 
 
 But though he had such an insatiable avidity 
 of honour, he was never unwilling that others 
 should have their share. For he was entirely 
 free from envy ; and it appears from his works 
 that he was most liberal in his praises, not only 
 of the ancients, but of those of his own time, 
 hlany of his remarkable sayings, too, of this 
 nature, are preserved. Thus of Aristotle, he 
 said that he was a river of flowing gold ; 
 and of Plato’s dialogues, that if Jupiter were 
 to speak, he would speak as he did. Theo- 
 phrastus he used to call his particular favourite ; 
 and being asked which of Demosthenes’s orations 
 he thought the best, he answered, “The longest.” 
 Some who affect to be zealous admirers of that 
 orator, complain, indeed, of Cicero’s saying, in 
 one of his epistles, that Demosthenes sometimes 
 nodded in his orations : but they forget the many 
 great encomiums he bestowed on him in other 
 parts of his works ; and do not consider that he 
 gave the title of Philippics to his orations against 
 Mark Antony, which were the most elaborate he 
 ever wrote. There was not one of his contem- 
 poraries celebrated either for his eloquence or 
 philosophy, whose fame he did not promote, 
 either by speaking or writing of him in an ad- 
 vantageous manner. He persuaded Caesar, when 
 dictator, to grant Cratippus the Peripatetic the 
 freedom of Rome. He likewise prevailed upon 
 the council of Areopagus to make out an order 
 for desiring him to remain at Athens to instruct 
 the youth, and not deprive their city of such 
 an ornament. There are, moreover, letters of 
 Cicero’s to Herodes, and others to his son, in 
 which he directs them to study philosophy under 
 Cratippus. But he accuses Gorgias the rhetori- 
 cian of accustoming his son to a life of pleasure 
 and intemperance, and therefore forbids the young 
 man his society. Amongst his Greek letters, 
 this, and another to Pelops the Byzantine, are 
 all that discover anything of resentment. His 
 reprimand to Gorgias certainly w’as right and 
 proper, if he was the dissolute man that he passed 
 for ; but he betrays an excessive meanness in 
 his expostulations with Pelops, for neglecting to 
 procure him certain honours from the city of 
 Byzantium, 
 
 These were the effects of his vanity. Superior 
 keenness of expression, too, which he had at 
 command, led him into many violations of de- 
 corum. He pleaded for Munatius in a certain 
 cause ; and his client was acquitted in conse- 
 quence of his defence. Afterwards Munatius 
 prosecuted Sabinus, one of Cicero’s friends ; upon 
 which he was so much transported with anger 
 as to say, “Thinkest thou it was the merit of thy 
 cause that saved thee, and not rather the cloud 
 which I threw over thy crimes, and which kept 
 them from the sight of the court?” He had 
 succeeded in an encomium on Marcus Crassus 
 from the rostrum; and a few days after as 
 publicly reproached him. ‘ ‘ What ! ” said Crassus, 
 “ did you not lately praise me in the place where 
 you now stand?” “True;” answered Cicero, 
 “ but I did it by way of experiment, to see what 
 
598 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 I could make of a bad subject.” Crassus had 
 once affirmed, that none of his family ever lived 
 above threescore years : but afterwards wanted 
 to contradict it, and said, “What could I have 
 been thinking of when I asserted such a thing ! ” 
 “You knew,” said Cicero, “that such an assertion 
 would be very agreeable to the people of Rome.” 
 Crassus happened one day to profess himself 
 much pleased with that maxim of the stoics, 
 “ The good man is always rich.” * “I imagine,” 
 said Cicero, “ there is another more agreeable to 
 you. All things belong to the prudent.” For 
 Crassus was notoriously covetous. Crassus had 
 two sons, one of which resembled a man called 
 Accius so much that his mother was suspected 
 of an intrigue with him. This young man spoke 
 in the senate with great applause ; and Cicero 
 being asked what he thought of him, answered 
 in Greek, axios Crassou.j When Crassus was 
 going to set out for Syria, he thought it better 
 to leave Cicero his friend than his enemy ; and 
 therefore addressed him one day in an obliging 
 manner, and told him he would come and sup 
 with him. Cicero accepted the offer with equal 
 politeness. A few days after, Vatinius likewise 
 applied to him by his friends, and desired a re- 
 coriciliation. “What!” said Cicero, “does Va- 
 tmius too want to sup with me ? ” Such were 
 his jests upon Crassus. Vatinius had scrofulous 
 tumours in his neck ; and one day when he was 
 pleading, Cicero called him a tumid orator. An 
 account was once brought Cicero that Vatinius was 
 dead, which being afterwards contradicted, he 
 said, “ May vengeance seize the tongue that told 
 the lie ! ” When Caesar proposed a decree for dis- 
 tributing the lands in Campania among the soldiers, 
 many of the senators were displeased at it ; and 
 Lucius Gellius, in particular, who was one of the 
 oldest of them, said, “That shall never be while 
 I live.” “Let us wait awhile, then,” said Cicero ; 
 “ for Gellius requires no very long credit.” There 
 was one Octavius, who had it objected to him 
 that he was an African. One day when Cicero 
 was pleading, _ this man said he could not hear 
 him. “That is something strange,” said Cicero ; 
 “for you are not without a hole in your ear.”J 
 When Metellus Nepos told him that he had 
 ruined more as an evidence than he had saved 
 as an advocate : “ I grant it,” said Cicero, “for 
 I have more truth than eloquence.” A young 
 man, who lay under the imputation of having 
 given his father a poisoned cake, talking in an 
 insolent manner, and threatening that Cicero 
 should feel the weight of his reproaches, Cicero 
 answered, “ I had much rather have them than 
 your cake.” Publius Sestius had taken Cicero, 
 among others, for his advocate, in a cause of 
 some importance ; and yet he would suffer no 
 man to speak but himself. When it appeared 
 
 that he would be acquitted, and the judges were 
 giving their verdict, Cicero called to him, and 
 said, “ Sestius, make the best use of your time 
 to-day, for to-morrow you will be out of office.” * 
 Publius Cotta, who affected to be thought an 
 able lawyer, though he had neither learning nor 
 capacity, being called in as a witness in a certain 
 cause, declared he knew nothing of the matter. 
 “ Perhaps,” said Cicero, “you think I am asking 
 you some question in lav/.” Metellus Nepos, in 
 some difference with Cicero, often asking him, 
 “Who is your father?” he replied, “Your mother 
 has made it much more difficult for you to answer 
 that question.” For his mother had not the 
 niost unsullied reputation. This Metellus was 
 himself a man of a light unbalanced mind. He 
 suddenly quitted the tribunitial office, and sailed 
 to Pom’pey in Syria ; and when he was there, he 
 returned in a manner still more absurd. When 
 his preceptor Philagrus died, he buried him in 
 a pompous manner, and placed the figure of a 
 crow in marble on his monument, t “ This,” said 
 Cicero, “ was one of the wisest things you ever 
 did ; for your preceptor has taught you rather 
 to fly than to speak.” J Marcus Appius having 
 mentioned, in the introduction to one of his 
 pleadings, that his friend had desired him to 
 try every resource of care, eloquence, and fidelity 
 in his cause, Cicero said, “ What a hard-hearted 
 man you are, not to do any one thing that your 
 friend has desired of you I ” 
 
 It seems not foreign to the business of an 
 orator to use this cutting raillery against enemies 
 or opponents ; but his employing it indiscrimin- 
 ately, merely to raise a laugh, rendered him ex- 
 tremely obnoxious. To give a few instances : 
 He used to call Marcus Acquilius AdrasUis, be- 
 cause he had two sons-in-law who were both in 
 exile. § Lucius Cotta, a great lover of wine, was 
 censor when Cicero solicited the consulship. 
 Cicero, in the course of his canvass, happening 
 to be thirsty, called for water, and said to his 
 friends who stood round him as he drank, “ You 
 do well to conceal me, for you are afraid that the 
 censor will call me to account for drinking 
 water.” Meeting Voconius one day with three 
 daughters, who were very plain women, he cried 
 out : 
 
 On this conception Phoebus never smiled. H 
 
 Marcus Gellius, who was supposed to be of 
 servile extraction, happening to read some letters 
 in the s*enate with a loud and strong voice, “ Do 
 not be surprised at it,” said Cicero, “for there 
 have been public criers in his family.” Faustus, 
 the son of Sylla the dictator, who had proscribed 
 great numbers of Romans, having run deep in 
 
 * Probably Sestius, not being a professed ad- 
 vocate, would not be employed to speak for any- 
 body else ; and therefore Cicero meant that he 
 should indulge his vanity in speaking for himself. 
 
 f It was usual among the ancients to place 
 emblematic figures on the monuments of the dead ; 
 and these were either such instruments as repre- 
 sented the profession of the deceased, or such 
 animals as resembled them in disposition. _ 
 t Alluding to the celerity of his expeditions. 
 
 § Because Adrastus had married his daughters 
 to Eteocles and Polynices, who were exiled. 
 
 11 A verse of Sophocles, speaking of Laius the 
 father of QEdipus. 
 
 ^ '* Travra eivai rov (ro(pr}. The Greek (ro<po^ 
 signifies cunning, shrewd, prudent, as well as 
 wise ; and in any of the former acceptations the 
 stoic maxim was applicable to Crassus. Thus 
 frtigi, in Latin, is used indifferently either for 
 saving prudence, or for sober wisdom. 
 
 f An ill-mannered pun, which signifies either 
 that the young man was worthy of Crassus, or 
 that he was the son of Accius. 
 
 1 A mark of slavery amongst some nations ; 
 but the Africans wore pendants in their ears by 
 way of ornament. 
 
CICERO, 599 
 
 debt, and wasted great part of his estate, was 
 obliged to put up public bills for the sale of it. 
 Upon which Cicero said, -‘I like these bills 
 much better than his father’s.” 
 
 Many hated him for these keen sarcasms ; 
 v/hich encouraged Clodius and his faction to 
 form their schemes against him. ’nie occasion 
 was this : Clodius, who was of a noble family, 
 young and adventurous, entertained a passion 
 for Pompeia, the wife of Csesar. This induced 
 him to get privately into the house, which he did 
 in the habit of a female musician. The women 
 were offering in Caesar’s house that mysterious 
 sacrifice which is kept from the sight and know- 
 ledge of men. But, though no man is suffered to 
 assist in it, Clodius, who was very young, and 
 had his face yet smooth, hoped to pass through 
 the women to Pompeia undiscovered. As he 
 entered a great house in the night, he was puzzled 
 to find his way ; and one of the women belonging 
 to Aurelia, Caesar’s mother, seeing him w^andering 
 up and down, asked him his name. Being now 
 forced to speak, he said he was seeking Abra, 
 one of Pompeia’s maids. The woman, perceiving 
 it was not a female voice, shrieked out, and 
 called the matrons together. They immediately 
 made fast the doors, and, searching the whole 
 house, found Clodius skulking in the apartment 
 of the maid who introduced him. 
 
 As the affair made a great noise, Caesar di- 
 vorced Pompeia, and prosecuted Clodius for that 
 act of impiety. Cicero was at that time his 
 friend ; for, during the conspiracy of Catiline, he 
 had been ready to give him all the assistance in 
 his power ; and even attended as one of his 
 guards. Clodius insisted, in his defence, that he 
 was not then at Rome, but at a considerable dis- 
 tance in the country. But Cicero attested that 
 he came that very day to his house, and talked 
 with him about some particular business. _ This 
 was, indeed, matter of fact ; yet probably it was 
 not so much the influence of truth, as the neces- 
 sity of satisfying his wife Terentia, that induced 
 him to declare it. She hated Clodius on account 
 of his sister Clodia ; for she was persuaded that , 
 that lady wanted to get Cicero for her husband ; 
 and that she managed the design by one Tullus. 
 As Tullus was an intimate friend of Cicero’s, and 
 likewise constantly paid his court to Clodia, who 
 was his neighbour, that circumstance strengthened 
 her suspicions. Besides, Terentia was a woman 
 of an imperious temper, and, having an ascend- 
 ant over her husband, she put him upon giving 
 evidence against Clodius. Many other persons 
 of honour alleged against him the crimes of 
 perjury, of fraud, of bribing the people, and 
 corrupting the women. Nay, Lucullus brought i 
 his maid-servants to prove that Clodius had a ■ 
 criminal commerce with his own sister, who was | 
 the wife of that nobleman. This was the youngest ■ 
 of the sisters. Amd it was generally believed that 
 he had connections of the same kind with his 
 other sisters ; one of which, named Tertia, was 
 married to Martius Rex ; and the other, Clodia, 
 to Metellus Celer. The latter was called Qtiad- 
 rantaria^ because one of her lovers palmed ux>on 
 her a purse of small brass money, instead of 
 silver ; the smallest brass coin being called a 
 quadrans. It was on this sister’s account that 
 Clodius was most censured. As the people set 
 themselves both against the witnesses and the 
 prosecutors, the judges were so terrified that they 
 
 thought it necessary to place a guard about the 
 court ; and most of them confounded the letters 
 upon the tablets.* He seemed, however, to be 
 acquitted by the majority ; but it was said to be 
 through pecuniary applications. Hence Catulus, 
 when he met the judges, said, “ You were right 
 in desiring a guard for your defence ; for you 
 were afraid that somebody would take the money 
 ; from you.’^ And when Clodius told Cicero that 
 ; the judges did not give credit to his dep»osition ; 
 “Yes,” said he, “five and twenty of them be- 
 lieved me, for so many condemned you ; nor aid the 
 other thirty believe you, for they did not acquit 
 you till they had received your money.” As to 
 Caesar, when he was called upon, he gave no tes- 
 timony against Clodius ; nor did he affirm that he 
 was certain of any injury done to his bed. He 
 only said he had divorced Pompeia, because the 
 wife of Caesar ought not only to be clear of such 
 a crime, but of the very suspicion of it. 
 
 After Clodius had escaped this danger, and 
 was elected tribune of the people, he immediately 
 attacked Cicero, and left neither circumstance 
 nor person untried to ruin him. He gained the 
 people by laws that flattered their inclinations, 
 and the consuls by decreeing them large and 
 wealthy pro\dnces ; for Piso was to have Mace- 
 donia, and Gabinius Syria. He registered many 
 mean and indigent persons as citizens ; and : 
 armed a number of slaves for his constant attend- 
 ants. Of the great triumvirate, Crassus was an 
 avowed enemy to Cicero. Pompey indifferently 
 caressed both parties, and Cssar was going to 
 ! set out upon his expedition to Gaul. Though 
 the latter was not his friend, but rather suspected 
 of enmity since the affair of Catiline, it was to 
 him that he applied. The favour he asked of him 
 was, that he would take him as his lieutenant ; 
 and Caesar granted it.f Clodius perceiving that 
 Cicero would, by this means, get out of the reach 
 of his tribunitial power, pretended to be inchned 
 to a reconciliation. He threw most of the blame 
 of the late difference on Terentia ; and spoke 
 always of Cicero in terms of candoiu-, not like an 
 adversary vindictively inclined, but as one friend 
 might complain of another. 'This removed 
 Cicero’s fears so entirely J that he gave up the 
 lieutenancy which Caesar had indulged him with, 
 and began to attend to business as before. 
 
 Caesar was so much piqued at this proceeding, 
 that he encouraged Clodius against him, and drew 
 off Pompey entirely from his interest. He de- 
 clared, too, before the people, that Cicero, in his 
 opinion, had been guilty of a flagrant violation of 
 all justice and law, in putting Lentulus and Cc- 
 thegus to death, without any form of trial. This 
 was the charge which he was summoned to answer. 
 Cicero then put on mourning, let his hair grow, 
 and, with every token of distress, went about to 
 supplicate the people. Clodius took care to meet 
 him everywhere in the streets, with his audacious 
 and insolent crew, who insulted him on his change 
 of dress, and often disturbed his applications by 
 
 * See the note on the parallel passage in the 
 Life of Caesar. 
 
 t Cicero says that this lieutenancy was a volun- 
 tary offer of Caesar’s. Ep. ad A tt. 
 
 % It does not appear that Cicero was influenced 
 by this conduct of Clodius : he had always ex- 
 pressed an indifference to the lieutenancy that was 
 offered to him b^- Caesar. Ep. ad A tt. 1. ii. c. i8. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 600 
 
 pelting him with dirt and stones. However, 
 almost all the equestrian order went into mourn- 
 ing with him ; and no fewer than 20,000 young 
 men, of the best families, attended him with their 
 hair dishevelled, and entreated the people for 
 him. Afterwards the senate met, with an intent 
 to decree that the people should change their 
 habits, as in times of public mourning. But, as 
 the consuls opposed it, and Clodius beset the 
 house with his armed band of ruffians, many of 
 the senators ran out, rending their garments, and 
 exclaiming against the outrage. 
 
 But this spectacle excited neither compassion 
 nor shame ; and it appeared that Cicero must 
 either go into exile, or decide the dispute with 
 the sword. In this extremity he applied to Pom- 
 pey for assistance ; but he had purposely absented 
 himself, and remained at his Alban villa. Cicero 
 first sent his son-in-law Piso to him, and after- 
 wards went himself. When Pompey was in- 
 formed of his arrival, he could not bear to look 
 him in the face. He was confounded at the 
 thought of an interview with his injured friend, 
 who had fought such battles for him, and rendered 
 him so many services in the course of his adminis- 
 tration. But being now son-in-law to Caesar, he 
 sacrificed his former obligations to that connection, 
 and went out at a back door, to avoid his pre- 
 sence. 
 
 Cicero, thus betrayed and deserted, had re- 
 course to the consuls. Gabinius always treated 
 him rudely ; but Piso behaved with some civility. 
 He advised him to withdraw from the torrent of 
 Clodius’s rage ; to bear this change of the times 
 with patience ; and to be once more the saviour 
 of his country, which, for his sake, was in all this 
 trouble and commotion. 
 
 After this answer, Cicero consulted with his 
 friends. • Lucullus advised him to stay, and 
 assured him he would be victorious. Others 
 were of opinion that it was best to fly, because 
 the people would soon be desirous of his return, 
 when they were weary of the extravagance and 
 madness of Clodius. He approved of this last 
 advice ; and taking a statue of Minerva, which he 
 had long kept in his house with great devotion, 
 he carried it to the Capitol, and dedicated it 
 there, with this inscription : to minerva the 
 PROTECTRESS OF ROME. About midnight he 
 privately quitted the city ; and, with some friends 
 who attended to conduct him, took his route on 
 foot through Lucania, intending to pass from 
 thence to Sicily. 
 
 It was no sooner known that he was fled than 
 Clodius procured a decree of banishment against 
 him, which prohibited him fire and water, and 
 admission into any house within 500 miles of Italy. 
 But such was the veneration the people had for 
 Cicero, that in general there was no regard paid 
 to the decree. They showed him every sort of 
 civijity, and conducted him on his way with the 
 most cordial attention. Only at Hipponium, a 
 city of Lucania, now called Vibo, one Vibius, a 
 native of Sicily, who had particular obligations to 
 him, and, among other things, had an appoint- 
 ment under him, when consul, as surveyor of the 
 works, now refused to admit him into his house ; 
 but at the same time, acquainted him that he 
 would appoint a place in the country for his recep- 
 tion. And Caius Virginius,* the prsetor of Sicily, 
 
 * Some copies have it Virgilius. 
 
 though indebted to Cicero for considerable ser- 
 vices, wrote to forbid him entrance into that 
 island. 
 
 Discouraged at these, instances of ingratitude, 
 he repaired to Brundusium, where he embarked 
 for Dyrrhachium. At first he had a favourable 
 gale, but the next day the wind turned about, 
 and drove him back to port. He set sail, how- 
 ever, again, as soon as the wind was fair, It is 
 reported, that when he was going to land at 
 Dyrrhachium, there happened to be an earth- 
 quake, and the sea retired to a great distance 
 from the shore. The diviners inferred that his 
 exile would be of no long continuance, for these 
 were tokens of a sudden change. Great numbers 
 of people came to pay their respects to him ; and 
 the cities of Greece strove which should show him 
 the greatest civilities ; yet he continued dejected 
 and disconsolate. Like a passionate lover, he 
 often cast ^ a longing look towards Italy, and 
 behaved with a littleness . of spirit which could 
 not have been expected from a man that had 
 enjoyed such opportunities of cultivation from 
 letters and philosophy. Nay, he had often de- 
 sired his friends not to call him an orator, but a 
 philosopher, because he had made philosophy his 
 business, and rhetoric only the instrument of his 
 political operations. But opinion has great power 
 to efface the tinctures of philosophy, and infuse 
 the passions of the vulgar into the minds of 
 statesmen, who have a necessary connection and 
 commerce with the_ multitude ; unless they take 
 care so to engage in everything extrinsic as to 
 attend to the business only, without imbibing the 
 passions^ that are the common consequences of 
 that business. 
 
 ^ After Clodius had banished Cicero, he burned 
 his villas, and his house in Rome ; and on the 
 place where the latter stood, erected a temple to 
 Liberty. His goods he put up to auction, and 
 the crier gave notice of it everyday, but no buyer 
 appeared. By these means, he became formid- 
 able to the patricians ; and having drawn the 
 people with him into the most audacious insolence 
 and effrontery, he attacked Pompey, and called 
 in question some of his acts and ordinances in the 
 wars. As this exposed Pompey to some reflec- 
 tions, he blamed himself greatly for abandoning 
 Cicero ; and, entirely changing his plan, took 
 every means for effecting his return. As Clodius 
 constantly opposed them, the senate decreed 
 that no public business of any kind should be 
 despatched . by their body till Cicero was re- 
 called. 
 
 In the consulship of Lentulus the sedition in- 
 creased ; some of the tribunes were wounded in 
 forum; and Quintus, the brother of Cicero, 
 was left for dead among the slain. The people 
 began now to change their opinion ; and Annius 
 Milo, one of the tribunes, was the first who 
 ventured to call_ Clodius to answer for his viola- 
 tion of the public peace. Many of the people of 
 Rome, and of the neighbouring cities, joined 
 Pompey ; with whose assistance he drove Clodius 
 out of the fo 7 um; and then he summoned the 
 citizens to vote. It is said that nothing was ever 
 carried among the commons with so great una- 
 nimity ; and the senate, endeavouring to give still 
 higher proofs of their attachment to Cicero, 
 decreed that their thanks should be given the 
 cities which had treated him with kindness and 
 respect during his exile ; and that his town and 
 
CICERO. 6oi 
 
 country houses, which Clodius had demolished, 
 should be rebuilt at the public charge.* _ 
 
 Cicero returned sixteen months after his banish- 
 ment ; and such joy was expressed by the cities, 
 so much eagerness to meet him by all ranks of 
 people, that his own account of it is less than the 
 truth, though he said, that Italy had brought him 
 on her shoulders to Rome. Crassus, who was his 
 enemy before his exile, now readily went to meet 
 him, and was reconciled. In this, he said, he 
 was willing to oblige his son Publius, who was a 
 great admirer of Cicero. 
 
 Not long after his return, Cicero, taking his 
 opportunity when Clodius was absent,*}* went up 
 with a great company to the Capitol, and destroyed 
 the tribunitial tables, in which were recorded all 
 the acts in Clodius’s time. Clodius loudly com- 
 plained of this proceeding ; but Cicero answered, 
 that his appointment as tribune was irregular, 
 because he was of a patrician family, and con- 
 sequently all his acts were invalid. Cato was 
 displeased, and opposed Cicero in this assertion. 
 Not that he praised Clodius ; on the contrary, 
 he was extremely offended at his administration ; 
 but he represented, that it would be a violent 
 stretch of prerogative for the senate to annul so 
 many decrees and acts, among which were his 
 own commission and his regulations at Cyprus 
 and Byzantium. The difference which this pro- 
 duced between Cato and Cicero did not come to 
 an absolute rupture ; it only lessened the warmth 
 of their friendship. 
 
 After this, Milo killed Clodius ; and being 
 arraigned for the fact, he chose Cicero for his 
 advocate. The senate, fearing that the prosecu- 
 tion of a man of Milo’s spirit and reputation 
 might produce some tumult in the city, appointed 
 Pompey to preside at this and the other trials ; 
 and to provide both for the peace of the city and 
 the courts of justice. In consequence of which, 
 he posted a body of soldiers in the forum before 
 day, and secured every part of it. This made 
 Milo apprehensive that Cicero would be dis- 
 concerted at so unusual a sight, and less able 
 to plead. He therefore persuaded him to come 
 in a litter to the forum; and to repose himself 
 there till the judges were assembled, and the 
 court filled : for he was not only timid in war, 
 but he had his fears when he spoke in public ; 
 and in many causes he scarce left trembling even 
 in the height and vehemence of his eloquence. 
 When he undertook to assist in the defence of 
 Licinius Mur3ena,J; against the prosecution of 
 Cato, he was ambitious to outdo Hortensius, who 
 had already spoken with great applause ; for 
 which reason he sat up all night to prepare him- 
 self. But that watching and application hurt 
 him so much that he appeared inferior to his 
 rival. 
 
 When he came out of the litter to open the 
 cause of Milo, and saw Pompey seated on high. 
 
 as in a camp, and weapons glistering all around 
 the forum, he was so confounded that he could 
 scarce begin his oration. For he shook, and his 
 tongue faltered ; though Milo attended the trial 
 with great courage, and had disdained to let his 
 hair grow, or to put on mourning. These cir- 
 cumstances contributed not a little to his con- 
 demnation. As for Cicero, his trembling was 
 imputed rather to his anxiety for his friend than 
 to any particular timidity. 
 
 Cicero was appointed one of the priests called 
 Augurs, in the room of young Crassus, who was 
 killed in the Parthian war. Afterwards the pro- 
 vince of Cilicia was allotted to him ; and he sailed 
 thither with an army of 12,000 foot, and 2600 
 horse. He had it in charge to bring Cappadocia 
 to submit to king Ariobarzanes ; which he per- 
 formed to the satisfaction of all parties, without 
 having recourse to arms. And finding the Cilicia ns 
 elated on the miscarriage of the Romans in Par- 
 thia, and the commotions in Syria, he brought 
 them to order by the gentleness of his govern- 
 ment. He refused the presents which the neigh- 
 bouring princes offered him. He excused the 
 province from finding him a public table, and 
 daily entertained at his own charge persons of 
 honour and learning, not with magnificence in- 
 deed, but with elegance and propriety. He had 
 no porter at his gate, nor did any man ever find 
 him in bed ; for he rose early in the morning, and 
 kindly received those who came to pay their court 
 to him, either standing or walking before his door. 
 We are told, that he never caused any man to be 
 beaten with rods, or to have his garments rent ; * 
 never gave^ opprobrious language in his anger, 
 nor added insult to punishment. He recovered 
 the public money which had been embezzled ; 
 and enriched the cities with it. At the same 
 tinie he was satisfied, if those who had been 
 guilty of such frauds made restitution, and fixed 
 no mark of infamy upon them. 
 
 He had also a taste of war ; for he routed the 
 bands of robbers that had possessed themselves 
 of Mount Amanus, and was saluted by his army 
 hnperator on that account.*}* Csecilius,^ the 
 orator, having desired him to send him some 
 panthers from Cilicia for his games at Rome, in 
 his answer he could not forbear boasting of his 
 achievements. He said, there were no panthers 
 left in Cilicia : those animals, in their vexation 
 to find that they were the only objects of war, 
 while everything else was at peace, were fled into 
 Caria. 
 
 In his return from his province he stopped at 
 Rhodes, and afterwards made some stay at 
 Athens ; which he did with great pleasure, in 
 remembrance of the conversations he had formerly 
 
 * This mark of ignominy was of great antiquity. 
 “ Wherefore Hanun took David’s servants, and 
 shaved off one half of their beards, and cut off 
 their garments to the middle, even to their but- 
 tocks, and sent them away.” 2 Sa 7 n. x. 4. 
 
 f He not only received this mark of distinction, 
 but public thanksgivings were ordered at Rome 
 for his success; and the people went near to 
 decree him a triumph. His services, therefore, 
 must have been considerable, and Plutarch seems 
 to mention them too slightly. 
 
 J Not Caecilius, but Cailius. He was then 
 sedile, and wanted the panthers for his public 
 shows. 
 
 * The consuls decreed for rebuilding his house 
 in Rome near ^ii,ooo ; for his Tuscan villa near 
 ;^3ooo ; and for his Formian villa about half that 
 sum, which Cicero called a very scanty estimate. 
 
 *h Cicero had attempted this once before, when 
 Clodius was present ; but Caius, the brother of 
 Clodius, being praetor, by his means they were 
 rescued out of the hands of Cicero. 
 
 X Muraena had retained three advocates, Hor- 
 tensius, Marcus Crassus, and Cicero. 
 
602 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 had there. He had now the company of all that 
 were most famed for erudition ; and visited his 
 former friends and acquaintance. After he had 
 received all due honours and marks of esteem 
 from Greece, he passed on to Rome, where he 
 found the fire of dissension kindled, and every- 
 thing tending to a civil wai*. 
 
 When the senate decreed him a triumph, he 
 said he had rather follow Caesar’s chariot-wheels 
 in his triumph, if a reconciliation could be effected 
 between him and Pompey. And in private he 
 tried every healing and conciliating method, by 
 writing to Csesar, and entreating Pompey. After 
 it came to an open rupture, and Csesar was on 
 his march to Rome, Pompey did not choose to 
 wait for him, but retired, with numbers of the 
 principal citizens in his train. Cicero did not 
 attend him in his flight ; and therefore it was 
 believed that he would join Csesar. It is certain 
 that he fluctuated greatly in his opinion, and was 
 in the utmost anxiety. For he says in his epistles, 
 “Whither shall I turn? — Pompey has the more 
 honourable cause ; but Csesar manages his affairs 
 with the greatest address, and is most able to 
 save himself and his friends. In short, I know 
 whom to avoid, but not whom to seek.” At last, 
 one Trebatius, a friend of Csesar’s, signified to 
 him by letter, that Csesar thought he had reason 
 to reckon him of his side, and to consider him as 
 partner of his hopes. But if his age would not 
 permit it, he might retire into Greece, and live 
 there in tranquility, without any connection with 
 either party. Cicero was surprised that Csesar 
 did not write himself, and answered angrily, that 
 he would do nothing unworthy of his political 
 character. Such is the account we have of the 
 matter in his epistles. 
 
 However, upon Csesar’s marching for Spain, 
 he crossed the sea, and repaired to Pompey. His 
 arrival was agreeable to the generality ; but Cato 
 blamed him privately for taking this measure. 
 “As for me,” said he, “it would have been 
 wrong to leave that party which I embraced from 
 the beginning ; but you might have been much 
 more serviceable to your country and your 
 friends, if you had stayed at Rome, and ac- 
 commodated yourself to events ; whereas now, 
 without any reason or necessity, you have de- 
 clared yourself an enemy to Csesar, and are come 
 to share in the danger with which you had 
 nothing to do.” 
 
 These arguments made Cicero change his 
 opinion ; especially when he found that Pompey 
 did not employ him upon any considerable ser- 
 vice. It is true, no one was to be blamed for this 
 but himself ; for he made no secret of his repent- 
 ing. He disparaged Pompey’s preparations ; he 
 insinuated his dislike of his counsels, and never 
 spared his jests upon his allies. He was not, 
 indeed, inclined to laugh himself ; on the con- 
 trary, he walked about the camp with a very 
 solemn countenance ; but he often made others 
 laugh, though they were little inclined to it. 
 Perhaps it may not be amiss to give a few in- 
 stances. When Domitius advanced a man who 
 had no turn for war to the rank of captain, and 
 assigned for his reason, that he was an honest 
 and prudent man ; “ Why, then,” said Cicero, 
 “do you not keep him for governor to your 
 children ? ” When some were commending The- 
 opanes the Lesbian, who was director of the 
 board of works, for consoling the Rhodians on 
 
 the loss of their fleet, “ See,” said Cicero, “ what 
 it is to have a Grecian director ! ” When Csesar 
 was successful in almost every instance, and held 
 Pompey as it were besieged, Lentulus said he 
 was informed that Csesar’s friends looked very 
 sour. “You mean, I suppose,” said Cicero, 
 “ that they are out of humour with him?” One 
 Martius, newly arrived from Italy, told them a 
 report prevailed at Rome that Pompey was 
 blocked up in his camp : “ Then,” said Cicero, 
 “ you took a voyage on purpose to see it.” After 
 Pompey’s defeat, Nonnius said there was room 
 yet for hope, for there were seven eagles left in 
 the camp. Cicero answered, “ That would be good 
 encouragement, if we were to fight with jack- 
 daws.” When Labienus, on the strength of some 
 oracles, insisted that Pompey must be conqueror 
 at last : “ By this oracular generalship,” said 
 Cicero, “we have lost our camp.” 
 
 After the battle of Pharsalia (in which he was 
 not present, on account of his ill health), and 
 after the flight of Pompey, Cato, who had con- 
 siderable forces, and a great fleet at Dyrrha- 
 chium, desired Cicero to take the command, 
 because his consular dignity gave him a legal 
 title to it. Cicero, however, not only declined it, 
 but absolutely refused taking any farther share 
 in the war. Upon which, young Pompey and 
 his friends called him traitor, drew their swords, 
 and would certainly have despatched him, had 
 not Cato interposed, and conveyed him out of the 
 camp. 
 
 He got safe to Brundusium, and stayed there 
 some time in expectation of Caesar, who was 
 detained by his afitairs in Asia and Egypt._ When 
 he heard that the conqueror was arrived at 
 Tarentum, and designed to proceed from thence 
 by land to Brundusium, he set out to meet him ; 
 not without hope, nor yet without some shame 
 and reluctance at the thought of trying how he 
 stood in the opinion of a victorious enemy before 
 so many witnesses. He had im occasion, how- 
 ever, either to do or to say anything beneath his 
 dignity. Csesar no sooner beheld him, at some 
 considerable distance, advancing before the rest, 
 than he dismounted, and ran to embrace him ; 
 after which he went on discoursing with him 
 alone for many furlongs. He continued to treat 
 him with great kindness and respect : insomuch, 
 that when he had written an encomium on Cato, 
 which bore the name of that great man, Csesar, 
 in his answer, entitled Anticato, praised both 
 the eloquence and conduct of Cicero ; and said 
 he greatly resembled Pericles and Theramenes. 
 
 When Quintus Ligarius was prosecuted for 
 bearing arms against Csesar, and Cicero had 
 undertaken to plead his cause, Csesar is reported 
 to have said, “Why may we not give ourselves 
 a pleasure which we have not enjoyed so long, 
 that of hearing Cicero speak ; since ^ I have 
 already taken my resolution as to Ligarius, who 
 is clearly a bad man, as well as my enemy ? ” 
 But he was greatly moved when Cicero began ; 
 and his speech, as it proceeded, had such a 
 variety of pathos, so irresistible a charm, that his 
 colour often changed, and it was evident that 
 his mind was torn with conflicting passions. At 
 last, when the orator touched on the battle of 
 Pharsalia, he was so extremely affected, that his 
 whole frame trembled, and he let drop some 
 papers out of his hand. Thus, conquered by the 
 force of eloquence, he acquitted Ligarius. 
 
CICERO. 
 
 603 
 
 The commonwealth being changed into a 
 monarchy, Cicero withdrew from the scene of 
 public business, and bestowed his leisure on the 
 young men who were desirous to be instructed in 
 philosophy. As these were of the best families, 
 by his interest with them he once more obtained 
 great authority in Rome. He made it his busi- 
 ness to compose and translate philosophical 
 dialogues, and, to render the Greek terms of 
 logic and natural philosophy in the Roman 
 language. For' it is said that he first, or princi- 
 pally, at least, gave Latin terms for these Greek 
 words, pkantasia [imagination], syncatathesis 
 [assent], epoche [doubt], catalepsis [comprehen- 
 sion], atomos [atom], ameres [indivisible], kenon 
 [void], and many other such terms in science ; 
 contriving either by metr.phorical expression, or 
 strict translation, to make them intelligible and 
 familiar to the Romans. His ready turn for 
 poetry afforded him amusement ; for, we are 
 told, when he was intent upon it, he could make 
 500 verses in one night. As in this period he 
 spent most of his time at his Tusculan villa, he 
 wrote to his friends, that he led the Iffe of La- 
 ertes ; either by way of raillery, as his custom 
 was, or from an ambitious desire of public em- 
 ployment, and discontent in his present situation. 
 Be that as it may, he rarely went to Rome, and 
 then only to pay his court to Caesar. He was 
 always one of the first to vote him additional 
 honours, and forward to say something new of 
 him and his actions. Thus, when Caesar ordered 
 Pompey’s statues, which had been pulled down, 
 to be erected again, Cicero said, that by this act 
 of humanity in setting up Pompey’s statues, he 
 had established his own 
 
 It is reported that he had formed a design to 
 write the history of his own country, in which 
 he Avould have interwoven many of the Grecian 
 affairs, and inserted not only their speeches, but 
 fables.^ But he was prevented by many disagree- 
 able’ circumstances, both public and private, into 
 most of which he brought himself by his own 
 indiscretion. For, in the first place, he divorced 
 his wife Terentia. The reasons he assigned 
 were, that she had neglected him during the war, 
 and even sent him out without necessaries. Be- 
 sides, after his return to Italy, she behaved to 
 him_ with little regard, and did not wait on him 
 during his long stay at Brundusium. Nay, when 
 his daughter, at that time very young, took so 
 long a journey to see him, she allowed her but 
 an indifferent equipage, and insufficient supplies. 
 Indeed, according to his account, his house was 
 become naked and empty through the many 
 debts which she had contracted. These were the 
 most specious pretences for the divorce. Terentia, 
 however, denied all these charges ; and Cicero 
 himself made a full apology for her, by marrying 
 a younger woman not long after. Terentia said 
 he took her merely for her beauty ; but his freed- 
 man Tyro affirms that he married her for her 
 wealth, that it might enable him to pay his 
 debts. She_ was, indeed, very rich, and her 
 fortune was in the hands of Cicero, who was left 
 her guardian. As his debts were great, his 
 friends and relations persuaded him to marry the 
 young lady, notwithstanding the disparity of 
 years, and satisfy his creditors out of her for- 
 tune. 
 
 Antony, in his answer to the Philippics, taxes 
 him with repudiating a wife with whom he was 
 
 grown old ; * and rallies him on account of his 
 perpetually keeping at home, like a man unfit 
 either for business or war. Not long after this 
 match, his daughter Tullia, who, after the death 
 of Piso, had married Lentulus, died in childbed. 
 The philosophers came from all parts to comfort 
 him ; for his loss affected him extremely ; and he 
 even put away his new bride, because she seemed 
 to rejoice at the death of Tullia. In this posture 
 were Cicero’s domestic affairs. 
 
 As to those of the public, he had no share in 
 the conspiracy against Caesar, though he was one 
 of Brutus’s particular friends ; and no man was 
 more uneasy under the 'new establishment, or 
 more desirous of having the commonwealth re- 
 stored. Possibly they feared his natural deficiency 
 of courage, as well as his time of life, at which 
 the boldest begin to droop. After the work was 
 done by Brutus and Cassius, the friends of Caesar 
 assembled to revenge his death ; and it was ap- 
 prehended that Rome would again be plunged in 
 civil wars. Antony, who was consul, ordered a 
 meeting of the senate, and made a short speech 
 on the necessity of union. But Cicero expatiated 
 in a manner suitable to the occasion : and per- 
 suaded the senate, in imitation of the Athenians, 
 to pass a general amnesty as to all that had been 
 done against Csesar, and to decree provinces to 
 Brutus and Cassius. 
 
 None of these things, however, took effect : 
 for the people were inclined to pity on this event ; 
 and when they beheld the dead body of Csesar 
 carried^ into the forum, where Antony showed 
 them his robe stained with blood, and pierced on 
 all sides with swords, they broke^out into a trans- 
 port of rage. _ They sought all* over the forum 
 for the actors in that tragedy, and ran with lighted 
 torches to burn their houses. By their precaution 
 they escaped this ^ danger ; but as they saw 
 others, no less considerable, impending, they left 
 the citye 
 
 Antony, elated with this advantage, became 
 formidable to all the opposite party, who sup- 
 posed that he would aim at nothing less than 
 absolute power ; but Cicero had particular reason 
 to dread him. For being sensible that Cicero’s 
 weight in the administration was established 
 again, and of his strong attachment to Brutus, 
 Antony could hardly bear his presence. Besides, 
 there had long been some jealousy and dislike 
 between them on account of the dissimilarity of 
 their lives. Cicero, fearing the event, was in- 
 clined to go with Dolabella into Syria, as his 
 lieutenant. But afterwards Hirtius and Pansa, 
 who were to be consuls after Antony, persons of 
 great merit, and good friends to Cicero, desired 
 hirn not to leave them ; and promised, with his 
 assistance, to destroy Antony. Cicero, without 
 depending much on their scheme, gave up that 
 of going with Dolabella, and agreed with the 
 consuls elect to pass the summer in Athens, and 
 return when they entered upon their office. 
 
 Accordingly he embarked for that place with- 
 out taking any principal Roman along with him. 
 But his voyage being accidentally retarded, news 
 was brought from Rome (for he did not choose to 
 be without news), that there was a wonderful 
 change in Antony ; that he took all his steps 
 agrepbly to the sense of the senate ; and that 
 nothing but nis presence was wanting to bring 
 
 * Cicero was then sixty-two. 
 
6o4 FLUTARCH^S LIVES, 
 
 matters to the best establishment. He therefore 
 condemned his excessive caution, and returned to 
 Rome. 
 
 His first hopes were not disappointed. Such 
 crowds came out to meet him, that almost a 
 whole day was spent at the gates, and on his way 
 home, in compliments and congratulations. Next 
 day Antony convened the senate, and sent for 
 Cicero ; but he kept his bed, pretending that he 
 was indisposed with his journey. In_ reality he 
 seems to have been afraid of assassination, in 
 consequence of some hints he received by the 
 way. Antony was extremely incensed at these 
 suggestions, and ordered a party of soldiers either 
 to bring him, or to burn his house in case of 
 refusal. However, at the request of numbers 
 who interposed, he revoked that order, and bade 
 them only bring a pledge from his house. 
 
 After this, when they happened to meet, they 
 passed each other in silence, and lived in mutual 
 distrust. Meantime young Caesar, arriving from 
 Apollonia, put in his claim as heir to his uncle, 
 and sued Antony for 25,000,000 drachmas,* which 
 he detained of the estate. 
 
 Hereupon Philip, who had married the mother, 
 and Marcellus, who was husband to the sister of 
 Octavius, brought him to Cicero. It was agreed 
 between them, that Cicero should assist Caesar 
 with his eloquence and interest, both with the 
 senate and the people ; and that Caesar should 
 give Cicero all the protection that his wealth and 
 military influence could afford : for the young 
 man had already collected a considerable number 
 of the veterans who had served under his uncle. 
 
 Cicero received the offer of his friendship with 
 pleasure. For while Pompey and Caesar were 
 living, Cicero, it seems, had a dream, in which he 
 thought he called some boys, the sons of senators, 
 up to the Capitol, because Jupiter designed to 
 pitch upon one of them for sovereign of Rome. 
 The citizens ran with all the eagerness of ex- 
 pectation, and placed themselves about the 
 temple ; and the boys in their praetextae sat silent; 
 The doors suddenly opening, the boys rose up 
 one by one, and, in their order, passed round the 
 god, who reviewed them all, and sent them away 
 disappointed : but when Octavius approached, he 
 stretched out his hand to him, and said, “ Romans, 
 this is the person who, when he comes to be your 
 prince, will put an end to your civil wars.” This 
 vision, they tell us, made such an impression upon 
 Cicero, that he perfectly retained the figure and 
 countenance of the boy, though he did not yet 
 know him. Next day he went down to the 
 Campus Martius, when the boys were just 
 returning from their exercises ; and the first who 
 struck his eye was the lad in the very form that 
 he had seen in his dream. Astonished at the 
 discovery, Cicero asked him who were his parents ; 
 and he proved to be the son of Octavius, a person 
 not much distinguished in life, and of Attia, sister 
 to Caesar. As he was so near a relation, and 
 Caesar had no children of his own, he adopted 
 him, and, by will*, left him his estate. Cicero, 
 after his dream, v/henever he met young Octavius, 
 is said to have treated him with particular regard ; 
 and he received those marks of his friendship 
 with great satisfaction. Besides, he happened 
 
 * Plutarch is mistaken in the sum. It appears 
 from Paterculus and others, that it was seven 
 times as much. 
 
 to be born the same year that Cicero was 
 consul. 
 
 These were pretended to be the causes of their 
 present connection. But the leading motive with 
 Cicero was his hatred of Antony ; and the next 
 his natural avidity of glor5\ For he hoped to 
 throw the weight of Octavius into the scale of the 
 commonwealth ; and the latter behaved to him 
 with such a puerile deference, that he even called 
 him father. Hence Brutus, in his_ letters to 
 Atticus, expressed his indignation against Cicero, 
 and said, that, as through fear of Antony he paid 
 his court to young Caesar, it was plain that he 
 took not his measures for the liberty of his 
 country, but only to obtain a gentle master for 
 himself. Nevertheless, Brutus finding the son of 
 Cicero at Athens, where he was studying under 
 the philosophers, gave him a command, and 
 employed him upon many services which proved 
 successful. 
 
 Cicero’s power at this time was at its greatest 
 height ; he carried every point that he desired ; 
 insomuch that he expelled Antony, amd raised 
 such a spirit against him, that the consuls Hirtius 
 and Pansa were sent to give him battle ; and 
 Cicero likewise prevailed upon the senate to grant 
 Caesar the fasces with the dignity of praetor, as 
 one that was fighting for his country. 
 
 Antony, indeed, was beaten ; but both the 
 consuls falling m the action, the troops ranged 
 themselves under the banners of Caesar. The 
 senate now fearing the views of a young man 
 who was so much favoured by fortune, en- 
 deavoured by honours and gifts to draw his 
 forces from him and to diminish his power. They 
 alleged, that, as Antony was put to flight, there 
 was no need to keep such an army on foot. 
 Caesar, alarmed at these vigorous measures, 
 privately sent some friends to entreat and per- 
 suade Cicero to procure the consulship for them 
 both ; promising, at the same time, that he should 
 direct all affairs according to his better judgment, 
 and find him perfectly tractable, who was but a 
 youth, and had no ambition for anything but the 
 title and the honour. Cmsar himself acknow- 
 ledged afterwards, that, in his apprehensions of 
 being entirely ruined and deserted, he seasonably 
 availed himself of Cicero’s ambition, persuaded 
 him to stand for the consulship, and undertook to 
 support his application with his whole interest. 
 
 In this case particularly, Cicero, old as he was, 
 suffered himself to be imposed upon by this young 
 man, solicited the people for him, and brought 
 the senate into his interest. His friends blamed 
 him for it at the time ; and it was not long before 
 he was sensible that he had ruined himself, and 
 given, up the liberties of his country : for Csesar 
 was no sooner strengthened with the consular 
 authority, than he gave up Cicero ; * and recon- 
 ciling himself to Antony and Lepidus, he united 
 his power with theirs, and divided the empire 
 among them, as if it had been a private estate. 
 At the same time they proscribed about 200 
 persons whom they had pitched upon for a 
 sacrifice. The greatest difficulty and dispute was 
 about the proscription of Cicero : for Antony 
 would come to no terms till he was first taken off. 
 Lepidus agreed with Antony in this preliminary, 
 but Csesar opposed them both. They had a 
 
 * Instead of taking him for his colleague, he 
 chose Quintus Pedius. 
 
CICERO. 
 
 605 
 
 private congress for these purposes near the city 
 of Bononia which lasted three days. The place 
 where they met was_ over against their camps, 
 a little island in the river. Caesar is said to have 
 contended for Cicero the two first days ; but the 
 third he gave him up. The sacrifices on each 
 part were these : Caesar was to abandon Cicero to 
 his fate ; Lepidus, his brother Paulus ; and 
 Antony, Lucius Caesar, his uncle by the mother’s 
 side. Thus rage and rancour entirely stifled in 
 them all sentiments of humanity ; or, more 
 properly speaking, they showed that no beast is 
 more savage than man, when he is possessed of 
 power equal to his passion. 
 
 While his enemies were thus employed, Cicero 
 was at his Tusculan villa, and his brother Quintus 
 with him. When they were informed of the pro- 
 scription, they determined to remove to Astyra, a 
 country-house of Cicero’s near the sea ; where 
 they intended to take a ship, and repair to Brutus 
 in Macedonia : for it w'as reported, that he was 
 already very powerful in those parts. They were 
 carried in their separate litters, oppressed with 
 sorrow and despair ; and often joining their litters 
 on the road. Quintus was the more dejected, 
 because he was in want of necessaries ; for, as he 
 said, he_ had brought nothing from home with 
 him. Cicero, too, had but a slender provision. 
 They concluded, therefore, that it would be best 
 for Cicero to hasten his flight, and for Quintus to 
 return to his house, and get some supplies. This 
 resolution being fixed upon, they embraced each 
 other with every expression of sorrow, and then 
 parted. 
 
 A few days after, Quintus and his son were 
 betrayed by his servants to the assassins who 
 came in quest of them, and lost their lives. As 
 for Cicero, he was carried to Astyra ; where, find- 
 ing a vessel, he immediately went on board, and 
 coasted along to Circseum with a favourable wind. 
 The pilots were preparing immediately to sail 
 from thence ; but whether it was that he feared 
 the sea, or had not yet given up all his hopes in 
 Caesar, he disembarked, and travelled a hundred 
 furlongs on foot, as if Rome had been the place 
 of his destination. Repenting, however, after- 
 wards, he left that road, and made again for the 
 sea. He passed the night in the most perplexing 
 and horrid thoughts ; insomuch that he was some- 
 times inclined to go privately into Caesar’s house, 
 and s tab himself upon the altar of his domestic gods, 
 to bring the divine vengeance upon his betrayer. 
 But he was deterred from this by the fear of tor- 
 ture. Other alternatives, equally distressful, pre- 
 sented themselves. At last, he put himself in the 
 hands of his servants, and ordered them to carry 
 him by sea to Cajeta,* where he had a delightful 
 retreat in the summer, when the Etesian winds 
 set in. t There was a temple of Apollo on that 
 coast, from which a flight of crows came, with 
 great noise, towards Cicero’s vessel, as it was 
 making land. They perched on both sides the 
 sailyard, where some sat croaking and others 
 pecking the ends of the ropes. All looked upon 
 this as an ill omen ; yet Cicero went on shore, 
 and, entering his house, lay down to repose him- 
 self. In the mean time a number of the crows 
 
 According to Appian, Cicero was killed near 
 Capua ; but Valerius Maximus says, the scene of 
 that tragedy was at Cajeta. 
 t The north-east winds. 
 
 settled in the chamber-window, and croaked in 
 the most doleful manner. One of them even 
 entered in, and alighting on the bed, attempted 
 with its beak to draw off the clothes with which 
 he had covered his face. On sight of this, the 
 servants began to reproach themselves. “ Shall 
 we,” said they, “remain to be spectators of our 
 master’s murder? Shall we not protect him, so 
 innocent and so great a sufferer as he is, when the 
 brute creatures give him marks of their care and 
 attention ? ” Then, partly by entreaty, partly by 
 force, they got him into his litter, and carried him 
 towards the sea. 
 
 Meantime the assassins came up. They were 
 commanded by Herennius, a centurion, and Pom- 
 pilius, a tribune, whom Cicero had formerly de- 
 fended when under a prosecution for parricide. 
 The doors of the house being made fast, they 
 broke them open. Still Cicero did not appear, 
 and the servants \vho were left behind said they 
 knew nothing of him. But a young man, named 
 Philologus, his brother Quintus’s freedman, whom 
 Cicero had instructed in the liberal arts and 
 sciences, informed the tribune that they were 
 carrying the litter through deep shades to the 
 seaside. The tribune, taking a few soldiers with 
 him, ran to the end of the walk where he was to 
 come out. But Cicero perceiving that Herennius 
 was hastening after him, ordered his servants to 
 set the litter down ; and putting his left hand to 
 his chin, as it was his custom to do, he looked 
 steadfastly upon his murderers. Such an appear- 
 ance of misery in his face, overgrown with hair, 
 and wasted with anxiety, so much affected the 
 attendants of Herennius that they covered their 
 faces during the melancholy scene. That officer 
 despatched him, while he stretched his neck out 
 of the litter to receive the blow. Thus fell Cicero, 
 in the sixty-fourth year of his age. Herennius 
 cut off his head, and, by Antony’s command, his 
 hands too, with which he had written the Philij>- 
 pzcs. Such was the title he gave his orations 
 against Antony, and they retain it to this day. 
 
 When these parts of Cicero’s body were brought 
 to Rome, Antony happened' to be holding an 
 assembly for the election of magistrates. He no 
 sooner beheld them, than he cried out, “ Now let 
 there be an end of all proscriptions.” He ordered 
 the head and hands to be fastened up over the 
 rostra, a dreadful spectacle to the Roman people, 
 who thought they did not so much see the face of 
 Cicero, as a picture of Antony’s soul. Yet he did 
 one act of justice on this occasion, which was the 
 delivering up Philologus to Pompon ia the wife of 
 Quintus. When she was mistress of his fate, 
 beside other horrid punishments, she made him 
 cut off his own flesh by piecemeal, and roast and 
 eat it. This is the account some historians give 
 us ; but Tyro, Cicero’s freedman, makes no men- 
 tion of the treachery of Philologus. 
 
 I am informed, that a long time after, Csesar 
 going to see one of his grandsons, found him with 
 a book of Cicero’s in his hands. The boy, 
 alarmed at the accident, endeavoured to hide 
 the book under his robe ; which Caesar perceived, 
 and took it from him ; and after having run most 
 of it over as he stood, he returned it, and said, 
 
 “ My dear child, this was an eloquent man, and 
 a lover of his country.” 
 
 Being consul at the time when he conquered 
 Antony, he took the son of Cicero for his col- 
 league ; under whose auspices the senate took 
 
6o6 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIFTS. 
 
 down the statues of Antony, defaced all the monu- 
 ments of his honour, and decreed, that, for the 
 future, none of his family should bear the name of 
 
 Marcus. Thus the divine justice reserved the 
 completion of Antony’s punishment for the house 
 of Cicero. 
 
 DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO COMPARED. 
 
 These are the most memorable circumstances in 
 the lives of Demosthenes and Cicero that could 
 be collected from the historians which have come 
 to our knowledge. Though I shall not pretend 
 to compare their talents for speaking ; yet this, I 
 think, 1 ought to observe, that Demosthenes, by 
 the exertion of all his powers, both natural and 
 acquired, upon that object only, came to exceed 
 in energy and strength, the most celebrated 
 pleaders of his time ; in grandeur and magnifi- 
 cence of style, all that were eminent for the 
 sublime of declamation ; and in accuracy and art, 
 the most able professors of rhetoric. Cicero’s 
 studies were more general ; and, in his treasures 
 cf knowledge, he had a great variety. He has 
 left us a number of philosophical tracts, which 
 he composed upon the principles of the academy ; 
 and we see something of an ostentation of learn- 
 ing in the very orations which he wrote for the 
 fortim, and the bar. 
 
 Their different tempers are discernible in their 
 way of writing. That of Demosthenes, without 
 any embellishments of wit and humour, is always 
 grave and serious. Hor does it smell of the 
 lamp, as Pytheas tauntingly said, but of the 
 water-drinker, of the man of thought, of one 
 who was characterized by the austerities of life. 
 But Cicero, who loved to indulge his vein of 
 pleasantry, so much affected the wit, that he 
 sometimes sunk into the buffoon ; and by affect- 
 ing gaiety in the most serious things, to serve 
 his client, he had offended against the rules of 
 propriety and decorum. Thus, in his oration for 
 Cselius, he says, “Where is the absurdity, if a 
 man, with an affluent fortune at command, shall 
 indulge himself in pleasure? It would be mad- 
 ness not to enjoy what is in his power ; particu- 
 larly when some of the greatest philosophers 
 place man’s chief good in pleasure ? ” ^ 
 
 When Cato impeached Murena, Cicero, who 
 was then consul, undertook his defence ; and, 
 in his pleading, took occasion to ridicule several 
 paradoxes of the stoics, because Cato was of that 
 sect. He succeeded so far as to raise a laugh 
 in the assembly ; and even among the judges. 
 Upon which Cato smiled, and said to those who 
 sat by him, “ What a pleasant consul we have ! ” 
 Cicero, indeed, was naturally facetious ; and he 
 not only loved his jest, but his countenance was 
 gay and smiling. Whereas Demosthenes had a 
 care and thoughtfulness in his aspect, which he 
 seldom or never put off. Hence, his enemies, 
 as he confesses, called him a morose ill-natured 
 
 nia-n. . . 1 -r^ 
 
 It appears also from their writings, that De- 
 mosthenes, when he touches upon his own praise, 
 does it with an inoffensive delicacy. Indeed he 
 never gives in to it at all, but when he has some 
 great point in view ; and on all other occasions is 
 
 * Plutarch has not quoted this passage with 
 accuracy. Cicero apologizes for the excesses of 
 youth ; but does not defend or approve the pur- 
 suit of pleasure. 
 
 extremely modest. But Cicero, in his orations, 
 speaks in such high terms of himself, that it is 
 plain he had a most intemperate vanity. Thus 
 he cries out — 
 
 Let arms revere the robe, the warrior’s laurel 
 Yield to the palm of eloquence. 
 
 At length he came to commend not onlj?- his 
 own actions and operations in the comrnonwealth, 
 but his orations too, as well those which he had 
 only pronounced as those he had committed to 
 writing, as if, with a juvenile vanity, he were 
 vying with the rhetoricians Isocrates and Anaxi- 
 menes, instead of being inspired with the great 
 ambition of guiding the Roman people — 
 
 Fierce in the field, and dreadful to the foe. 
 
 It is necessary, indeed, for a statesman to have 
 the advantage of eloquence ^ but it is mean and 
 illiberal to rest in such a qualification, or to hunt 
 after praise in that quarter. In this respect De- 
 mosthenes behaved with more dignity, with a 
 superior elevation of soul. He said his ability 
 to explain himself was a mere acquisition ; and 
 not so perfect, but that it required great candour 
 and indulgence in the audience. He thought it 
 must be, as indeed it is, only a low and little 
 mind, that can value itself upon such attain- 
 ments. 
 
 They both, undoubtedly, had political abilities, 
 as well as powers to persuade. They had them 
 in such a degree, that men, who had armies at 
 their devotion, stood in need of their support. 
 Thus Chares, Diopithes, and Leosthenes availed 
 themselves of Demosthenes : Pompey and young 
 Csesar, of Cicero ; as Caesar himself acknowledges, 
 in his Commentaries addressed to Agrippa and 
 Maecenas. 
 
 It is an observation no less just than common, 
 that nothing makes so thorough a trial of a man’s 
 disposition, as power and authority : for they 
 awake every passion, and discover every latent 
 vice. Demosthenes never had an opportunity 
 for a trial of this kind. _ He never obtained any 
 eminent charge ; nor did he lead those armies 
 against Philip, which his eloquence had raised. 
 But Cicero went quaestor into Sicily, and pro- 
 consul into Cilicia and Cappadocia : at a time, 
 too, when avarice reigned without control ; when 
 the governors of provinces, thinking it beneath 
 them to take a clandestine advantage, fell to 
 open plunder ; when to take another’s property 
 was thought no great crime, and he who took 
 moderately passed for a man of character. Yet, 
 at such a time as this, Cicero gave many proofs 
 of his contempt of money ; many of his humanity 
 and goodness. At Rome, with the title only of 
 consul, he had an absolute and dictatorial power 
 against Catiline and his accomplices. On which 
 occasion he verified the prediction of Plato, that 
 every state will be delivered from its calamities, 
 when, by the favour of fortune, great power 
 unites with wisdom and justice in one person. 
 
 It is mentioned to the disgrace of Demos- 
 
DEMETRIUS. 
 
 thenes, that his eloquence was mercenary ; that 
 he privately composed orations both for Phormio 
 and Apollodorus, though adversaries in the same 
 cause. To which we may add, that he was 
 suspected of receiving money from the king of 
 Persia, and condemned for taking bribes of Har- 
 palus. Supposing some of these the calumnies 
 of those who wrote against him (and they are not 
 a few) ; yet it is impossible to affirm that he was 
 proof against the presents which were sent him 
 by princes, as marks of honour and respect. This 
 was too much to be expected from a man who 
 vested his money at interest upon ships, (^licero, 
 on the other hand, had magnificent presents sent 
 him by the Sicilians, when he was aedile ; by the 
 king of Cappadocia, when proconsul ; and his 
 friends pressed him to receive their benefactions, 
 when in exile yet, as we have already observed, 
 he refused them all. 
 
 The banishment of Demosthenes reflected in- 
 famy upon him ; for he was convicted of taking 
 bribes : that of Cicero, great honour ; because 
 he suffered for destroying traitors, who had vowed 
 the ruin of their country. The former, therefore, 
 departed without exciting pity or regret : for the 
 latter, the senate changed their habit, continued 
 in mourning, and could not be persuaded to pass 
 any act till the people had recalled him. Cicero, 
 indeed, spent the time of exile in an inactive 
 manner in Macedonia ; but with Demosthenes 
 it was^ a busy period in his political character. 
 Then it was (as we have mentioned above) that 
 
 607 
 
 he went to the several cities of Greece, strength- 
 ened the common interest, and defeated the'^de- 
 signs of the Macedonian ambassadors. In which 
 respect he discovered a much greater regard for 
 his country than Themistocles and Alcibiades, 
 when under the same misfortune. After his 
 return, he pursued his former plan of government, 
 and continued the war with Antipater and the 
 Macedonians. Whereas Laelius reproached Cicero 
 in full senate with sitting silent, when Caesar, 
 who was not yet come to years of maturity, 
 applied for the consulship contrary to law. And 
 Brutus, in one of his letters, charged him with 
 having reared a greater and more insupportable 
 tyranny than that which they had destroyed. 
 
 As to the manner of their death, we cannot 
 think of Cicero’s without a contemptuous kind of 
 pity. How deplorable to see an old man, for 
 want of proper resolution, suffering himself to be 
 carried about by his servants, endeavouring to 
 hide himself from death, which was a messenger 
 that nature would soon have sent him, and over- 
 taken notwithstanding and slaughtered by his 
 enemies ! The other, though he did discover 
 some fear, by taking sanctuary, is, nevertheless, 
 to be admired for the provision he had made of 
 poison, for the care with which he had preserved 
 it, and his noble manner of using it. So that, 
 when Neptune did not afford him an asylum, he 
 had recourse to a more inviolable altar, rescued 
 himself from the weapons of the guards, and 
 eluded the cruelty of Antipater. 
 
 DEMETRIUS. 
 
 Those who first thought that the arts might be 
 compared to the senses, in the perception of their 
 respective objects, appear to me to have well 
 understood the power by which that perception 
 was to be formed, the power of distinguishing 
 contrary qualities ; for this they have in common. 
 But in the mode of distinguishing, as well as in 
 the end of what is distinguished, they evidently 
 differ. The senses, for instance, have no connate 
 power of perceiving a white object more than a 
 black one ; what is sweet more than what is 
 bitter ; or what is soft and yielding, more than 
 what is hard and solid. Their office is to receive 
 impressions from such objects as strike upon 
 them, and to convey those impressions to the 
 mind. But the operation of the arts is more 
 rational. They are not, like the senses, passive 
 in their perceptions. They choose or reject what 
 is proper or improper. What is good they attend 
 to primarily and intentionally ; and what is evil, 
 only accidentally, in order to avoid it. Thus, the 
 art of medicine considers the nature of diseases ; 
 and music that of discordant sounds, in order to 
 produce their contraries. And the most excellent 
 of all arts, temperance, justice, and prudence, 
 teach us to judge not only of what is honourable, 
 just, and useful, but also of what is pernicious, 
 disgraceful, and unjust. These arts bestow no 
 praise on that innocence which boasts of an entire 
 ignorance of vice ; in their reckoning, it is rather 
 an absurd simplicity to be ignorant of those 
 things, which every man that is disposed to live 
 virtuously should make it his particular care to 
 know. Accordingly the ancient Spartans, at 
 
 their feasts, used to compel the helots to drink 
 an excessive quantity of wine, and then bring 
 them into the public halls where they dined, to 
 show the young men what drunkenness was. 
 
 We do not, indeed, think it agreeable, either 
 to humanity or good policy, to corrupt some of 
 the species, in order not to corrupt others. Yet, 
 perhaps, it may not be amiss to insert among the 
 rest of the lives, a few examples of those who 
 have abused their power to the purposes of licen- 
 tiousness, and whose elevation has only made 
 their vices greater and more conspicuous. Not 
 that we adduce them to give pleasure, or to 
 adorn our paintings with the graces of variety ; 
 but we do it from the same motive with Ismenias 
 the Theban musician, who presented his scholars 
 both with good and bad performers on the flute ; 
 and used to say, “ Thus you must play, and, 
 thus you must not play.” And Antigenidas 
 observed, that young men would hear able per- 
 formers with much greater pleasure, after they 
 had heard bad ones. In like manner, according 
 to my opinion, we shall behold and imitate the 
 viruous with greater attention, if we be not 
 entirely unacquainted with the characters of the 
 vicious and infamous. 
 
 We shall, therefore, now proceed to the lives 
 of Demetrius sumamed Poliorcetes, and of An- 
 tony the trhc77ivir : men who have most remark- 
 ably verified that observation of Plato, that great 
 parts produce great vices, as well as virtues. 
 They were equally addicted to wine and women ; 
 both excellent soldiers, and persons of great 
 munificence ; but, at the same time, prodigal and 
 
6o8 PLUTARCirS LIVES, 
 
 insolent. There was the same resemblance in 
 their fortune : for, in the course of their lives, 
 they met both with great success, and great dis- 
 appointments ; now, extending their conquests 
 with the utmost rapidity, and now losing all ; 
 now falling beyond all expectation ; and now 
 recovering themselves when there was as little 
 prospect of such a change. This similarity there 
 was in their lives ; and in the concluding scene 
 there was not much difference ; for the one was 
 taken by his enemies, and died in captivity, and 
 the other was near sharing the same fate. 
 
 Antigonus having two sons by Stratonice, the 
 daughter of Corrseus, called the one after his 
 brother Demetrius, and the other after his father, 
 Philip. So most historians say. But some affirm 
 that Demetrius was not the son of Antigonus, but 
 his nephew ; and that his father dying and leaving 
 him an infant, and his mother soon after marry- 
 ing Antigonus, he was, on that account, con- 
 ^sidered as his son. Philip, who was not many 
 years younger than Demetrius, died at an early 
 period. Demetrius, though tall, was not equal 
 in size to his father Antigonus. But his beauty 
 and mien were so inimitable that no statuary or 
 painter could hit off a likeness. His countenance 
 had a mixture of grace and dignity ; and was at 
 once amiable and awful ; and the unsubdued and 
 eager air of youth was blended with the majesty 
 of the hero and the king. There was the same 
 happy mixture in his behaviour, which inspired, 
 at the same time, both pleasure and awe. _ In his 
 hours of leisure, a most agreeable companion ; in 
 his table, and every species of entertainment, of 
 all princes the most delicate ; and yet, when 
 business called, nothing could equal his activity, 
 his diligence, and despatch. In which respect he 
 imitated Bacchus most of all the Gods ; since he 
 was not only terrible in war, but knew how to 
 terminate war with peace, and turn with the 
 happiest address to the joys and pleasures which 
 that inspires. 
 
 His affection for his father was remarkably 
 great ; and in the r espect he paid his nmther, his 
 love for his other parent was very discernible. 
 His duty was genuine, and not in the least in- 
 fluenced by the considerations of high station or 
 power. Demetrius happening to come from 
 hunting, when his father was giving audience to 
 some ambassadors, went up and saluted him, and 
 then sat down by him with his javelins in his 
 hand. After they had received their answer, and 
 were going away, Antigonus called out to them, 
 and said, “You may mention, too, the happy 
 terms upon which I am with my son,” By which 
 he gave them to understand, that the harmony 
 and confidence in which they lived, added 
 strength to the kingdom, and security to his 
 power. So incapable is regal authority of admit- 
 ting a partner, so liable to jealousy and hatred, 
 that the greatest and oldest of Alexander’s suc- 
 cessors rejoiced that he had no occasion to fear 
 his own son, but could freely let him approach 
 him with his weapons in his hand. Indeed, we 
 may venture to say, that this family alone, in the 
 course of many successions, was free from these 
 evils. Of all the descendants of Antigonus, Philip 
 was the only prince who put his son to death ; 
 whereas, in the families of other kings, nothing 
 is more common than the murders of sons, 
 mothers, and wives. As for the killing of 
 brothers, like a postulatum in geometry, it was 
 
 considered as indisputably necessary to the safety 
 of the reigning prince. 
 
 That Demetrius was originally well disposed 
 by nature to the offices of humanity and friend- 
 ship, the following is a proof. Mithridates, the 
 son of Ariobarzanes, was of the same age, and 
 his constant companion. He was likewise one of 
 the attendants of Antigonus, and bore an un- 
 blemished character. Yet Antigonus conceived 
 some suspicion of him from a dream. He thought 
 he entered a large and beautiful field, and sowed 
 it with filings of gold. This produced a crop of 
 the same precious metal ; but coming a little 
 after to visit it, he found it was cut, and nothing 
 left but the stalks. As he was in great distress 
 about his loss, he heard some people say, that 
 Mithridates had reaped the golden harvest, and 
 was gone with it towards the Euxine sea. 
 
 Disturbed at the dream, he communicated it to 
 his son, having first made him swear to keep it 
 secret, and, at' the same time, informed him of 
 his absolute determination to destroy Mithri- 
 dates. Demetrius was exceedingly concerned at 
 the affair ; but though his friend waited on him 
 as usual, that they might pursue their diversions 
 together, he durst not speak to him on the sub- 
 ject, because of his oath. By degrees, however, 
 he drew him aside from the rest of his com- 
 panions ; and when they were alone, he wrote on 
 the ground, with the bottom of his spear, “ Fly, 
 Mithridates.” The young man understanding 
 his danger, fled that night into Cappadocia ; and 
 fate soon accomplished the dream of Antigonus, 
 For Mithridates conquered a rich and extensive 
 country, and founded the family of the Pontic 
 kings, which continued through eight.successions, 
 and was at last destroyed by the Romans. This is 
 a sufficient evidence that Demetrius was naturally 
 well inclined to justice and humanity. 
 
 But as, according to Empedocles, love and 
 hatred are the sources of perpetual wars be- 
 tween the elements, particularly such as touch or 
 approach each other ; so among the successors of 
 Alexander there were continual wap ; and the 
 contentions were always the most violent when 
 inflamed by the opposition of interest, or vicinity 
 of place. This was the case of Antigonus and 
 Ptolemy. Antigonus, while he resided in Phry- 
 gia, received information that Ptolemy was gone 
 from Cyprus into Syria, where he_ was ravaging 
 the country, and reducing the cities either by 
 solicitation or force. Upon this he sent his son 
 Demetrius against him, though he was only 
 twenty-two years of age ; and in this first com- 
 mand had the greatest and most difficult affairs 
 to manage. But a young and inexperienced man 
 was unequally matched with a general from the 
 school of Alexander, who had distinguished him- 
 self in many important combats under that prince. 
 Accordingly, he was defeated near Gaza ; 5000 of 
 his men were killed, and 8000 taken prisoners. 
 He lost also his tents, his military chest, and his 
 whole equipage. But Ptolemy sent them back 
 to him, together with his friends; adding this 
 generous and obliging message, that they ought , 
 only to contend for glory and empire. When , 
 Demetrius received it, he begged of the gods, 
 that he might not long be Ptolemy’s debtor, but 
 soon have it in his power to return the favour. 
 Nor was he discpncerted, as most young men 
 would be, with such a miscarriage in his first 
 essay. On the contrary, like a complete general, 
 
DEMETRIUS, 
 
 609 
 
 accustomed^ to the vicissitudes of fortune, he 
 emploj’^ed himself in making new levies and pro- 
 viding arms ; he kept the cities to their duty, and 
 exercised the troops he had raised. 
 
 As soon as Antigonus was apprised how the 
 battle went, he said, “ Ptolemy has, indeed, beaten 
 boys, but he shall soon have to do with men.” 
 However, as he did not choose to repress the 
 spirit of his son, on his request, he gave him 
 permission to try his fortune again by himself. 
 Not long after this, Cilles, Ptolem/'s general, 
 undertook to drive Demetrius entirely out of 
 Syria : for which purpose he brought with him a 
 numerous army, though he held him in contempt 
 on account of his late defeat. But Demetrius, 
 by a sudden attack, struck his adversaries with 
 such a panic that both the camp and the general 
 fell into his hands, together with very considerable 
 treasures. Yet he did not consider the gain, but 
 the ability to give : nor so much valued the glory 
 and riches which this advantage brought him, as 
 its enabling him to requite the generosity of 
 Ptolemy. He was not, however, for proceeding 
 upon his own judgment ; he consulted his father ; 
 and, on his free permission to act as he thought 
 proper, loaded Cilles and his friends with his 
 favours, and sent them back to their master. 
 By this turn of affairs, Ptolemy lost his footing 
 in Syria ; and Antigonus marched down from 
 Calaenae, rejoicing in his son’s success, and im- 
 patient to embrace him. 
 
 Demetrius, after this, being sent to subdue the 
 Nabathaean Arabs, found himself in great dan- 
 ger, by falling into a desert country, which 
 afforded no water. But the barbarians, as- 
 tonished at his uncommon intrepidity, did not 
 venture to attack him ; and he retired with a con- 
 siderable booty, amongst which were 700 camels. 
 
 Antigonus had formerly taken Babylon from 
 Seleucus; but he had recovered it by his own 
 arms ; and was now marching with his main 
 army, to reduce the nations which bordered upon 
 India, and the provinces about Mount Caucasus. 
 Meantime Demetrius, hoping to find Mesopo- 
 tamia unguarded, suddenly passed the Euphra- 
 tes, and fell upon Babylon. There were two 
 strong castles in that city; but by this man- 
 oeuvre in the ^absence of Seleucus, he seized 
 one of them, dislodged the garrison, and placed 
 there 7000 of his own men. After thi.s, he 
 ordered the rest of his soldiers to plunder the 
 country for their own use, and then returned to 
 the sea coast. By these proceedings, he left 
 Seleucus better established in his dominions than 
 over ; for his laying waste the country, seemed 
 as if he had no farther claim to it. 
 
 In his return through Syria, he was informed 
 that Ptolemy was besieging Halicarnassus : upon 
 which he hastened to its relief, and obliged him 
 to retire. As this ambition to succour the dis- 
 tressed gained Antigonus and Demetrius great 
 reputation, they conceived a strong desire to 
 rescue all Greece from the slavery it was held in 
 by Cassander and Ptolemy. No prince ever 
 ^gaged in a more ju.st and honourable war. 
 For they employed the wealth which they had 
 gained by the conquest of the barbarians, for the 
 advantage of the Greeks ; solely with a view to 
 ^ such an enterprise promised. 
 
 . When^ ^ey had resolved to begin their opera- 
 tions with Athens, one of his friends advised 
 Antigonus, if he took the city, to keep it, as the 
 
 key to Greece ; but that prince would not listen 
 to him. He said the best and securest of all 
 keys was the friendship of the people ; and that 
 Athens was the watch tower of the world, from 
 whence the torch of his glory would blaze over 
 the earth. 
 
 In consequence of these resolutions, Deme- 
 trius sailed to Athens with 5000 talents of silver, 
 and a fleet of 250 ships. Demetrius, the Pha- 
 lerean, governed the city of Cassander, and had a 
 good garrison in the fort of Munychia. His 
 adversary, who managed the affair, both with 
 prudence and good fortune, made his appearance 
 before the Piraeus on the twenty-fifth of May.=^ 
 The town had no information of his approach ; 
 and when they saw his fleet coming in, they con- 
 cluded that it belonged to Ptolemy, and prepared 
 to receive it as such. ^ But at last the officers who 
 commanded in the city, being undeceived, ran to 
 oppose it. All the tumult and confusion followed, 
 which was natural when an enemy came unex- 
 pected, and was already landing. For Deme- 
 trius finding the mouth of the harbour open, ran 
 in with ease ; and the people could plainly dis- 
 tinguish him on the deck of his ship, whence he 
 made signs to them to compose themselves and 
 keep silence. They complied with his demand ; 
 and a herald was ordered to proclaim that his 
 father Antigonus, in a happy hour he hoped 
 for Athens, had sent him to reinstate them in 
 their liberties, by expelling the garrison, and to 
 restore their laws and ancient form of govern- 
 ment. 
 
 Upon this proclamation, the people threw down 
 their arms, and receiving the proposal with loud 
 acclamations, desired Demetrius to land, and 
 called him their benefactor and deliverer. De- 
 metrius, the Phalerean, and his partisans, thought 
 it necessary to receive a man who came with 
 such a superior force, though he should perform 
 none of his promises, and accordingly sent 
 deputies to make their submission. Demetrius 
 received them in an obliging manner, and sent 
 back with them Aristodemus the Milesian, a 
 friend of his father s. At the same time, he was 
 not unmindful of Demetrius the Phalerean, who, 
 in this revolution, was more afraid of the citizens 
 than of the enemy ; but out of regard to his 
 character and virtue, sent him with a strong 
 convoy to Thebes, agreeably to his request. He 
 likewise assured the Athenians, that however 
 desirous he might be to see their city, he would 
 deny himself that pleasure till he had set it 
 entirely free, by expelling the garrison. He 
 therefore surrounded the fortress of Munychia 
 with a ditch and rampart, to cut off its com- 
 munication with the rest of the city, and then 
 sailed to Megara, where Cassander had another 
 garrison. 
 
 On his arrival, he was informed, that Cratesi- 
 polis, the wife of Alexander, the son of Poly- 
 perchon, a celebrated beauty, was at Patrae, and 
 had a desire to see him. In con.sequence of 
 which he left his forces in the territory of Me- 
 gara, and with a few light horse took the road 
 to Patrae. When he was near the place, he drew 
 off from his men, and pitched his tent apart, that 
 Cratesipolis might not be perceived when she 
 came to pay her visit. But a party of the enemy 
 getting intelligence of this, fell suddenly upon 
 
 • Thargelion, 
 
6io PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 him. In his alarm, he had only time to throw 
 over him a mean cloak ; and, in that disguise, 
 saved himself by flight. So near an infamous 
 captivity had his intemperate love of beauty 
 brought him. As for his tent, the enemy took it, 
 with all the riches it contained. 
 
 After Megara was taken, the soldiers prepared 
 to plunder it ; but the Athenians interceded 
 strongly for that people, and prevailed. Deme- 
 trius was satisfied with expelling the garrison, 
 and declared the city free. Amidst these trans- 
 actions, he bethought himself of Stilpo, a philo- 
 sopher of great reputation, who sought only the 
 retirement and tranquility of a studious life. He 
 sent for him, and asked him, whether they had 
 taken anything from him. “ No,” said Stilpo, 
 
 “ I found none that wanted to steal any know- 
 ledge.” The soldiers, however, had clandestinely 
 carried off almost all the slaves. Therefore, when 
 Demetrius paid his respects to him again, on 
 leaving the place, he said, “ Stilpo, I leave you 
 entirely free.” “True,” answered Stilpo, “for 
 you have not left a slave among us.” 
 
 Demetrius then returned to the siege of Muny- 
 chia, dislodged the garrison, and demolished the 
 fortress. After which the Athenians pressed him 
 to enter the city, and he complied. Having 
 assembled the people, he re-established the com- 
 monwealth in its ancient form ; and, moreover, 
 promised them, in the name of his father, 150,000 
 measures * of wheat, and timber enough to build 
 100 galleys. Thus they recovered the democracy 
 fifteen years after it was dissolved. During the 
 interval, after the Lamian war, and the battle of 
 Cranon, the government was called an oligarchy, 
 but in fact, was monarchical ; for the power of 
 Demetrius, the Phalerean, met with no control. 
 
 Their deliverer appeared glorious in his ser- 
 vices to Athens ; but they rendered him ob- 
 noxious by the extravagant honours they decreed 
 him. For they were the first who gave him and 
 his father Antigonus the title of kings, which 
 they had hitherto relig ously avoided ; and which 
 was, indeed, the only thing left the descendants 
 of Philip and Alexander, uninvaded by their 
 generals. In the next place, they alone t 
 
 honoured them with the appellation of the gods’ 
 protectors ; and, instead of denominating the 
 year as formerly, from the archon, they abolished 
 his office, created annually in his room a priest 
 of those gods’ protectors, and prefixed his name 
 to all their public acts. They likewise ordered 
 that their portraits should be wrought in the 
 holy veil with those of the other gods.l: They 
 
 consecrated the place where their patron first 
 alighted from his chariot, and erected an altar 
 there to Demetrius Catabates. They added 
 two to the number of their tribes, and called 
 them Defnetrias and Antigonis ; in consequence 
 of which the senate, which before consisted of 
 500 members, was to consist of 600 ; for each 
 tribe supplied fifty. 
 
 Stratocles, of whose inventions these wise com- 
 pliments were, thought of a stroke still higher. 
 He procured a decree, that those who should be 
 sent upon public business from the commonwealth 
 of Athens to Antigonus and Demetrius, should 
 not be called ambassadors, but Theori, a title 
 which had been appropriated to those who, on 
 the solemn festivals, carried the customary sacri- 
 fices to Delphi and Olympia, in the name of the 
 Grecian states. This Stratocles was, in all re- 
 spects, a person of the most daring effrontery and 
 the most debauched life, insomuch that he seemed 
 to imitate the ancient Cleon in his scurrilous and 
 licentious behaviour to the people. He kept a 
 mistress called Phylacium ; and one day, when 
 she brought from the market some heads for 
 supper, he said, “ Why, how now ! you have pro- 
 vided us just such things to eat, as we statesmen 
 use for tennis-balls.” 
 
 When the Athenians were defeated in the sea- 
 fight near Amorgas, he arrived at Athens before 
 any account of the misfortune had been received, 
 and passing through the Ceramicus with a chaplet 
 on his head, told the people that they were vic- 
 torious. He then moved that sacrifices of thanks- 
 giving should be offered, and meat distributed 
 among the tribes for a public entertainment. 
 Two days after, the poor remains of the fleet 
 were brought home ; and the people, in great 
 anger, calling -him to answer for the imposition, 
 he made his appearance in the height of the 
 tumult, with the most consummate assurance, 
 and said, “What harm have I done you, in 
 making you merry for two days ? ” Such was 
 the impudence of Stratocles. 
 
 But there were other extravagances hotter 
 than fire itsefi as Aristophanes expresses it. 
 One flatterer outdid even Stratocles in servility, 
 by procuring a decree that Demetrius, whenever 
 he visited Athens, should be received with the 
 same honours that were paid to Ceres and 
 Bacchus ; and that whoever exceeded the rest 
 in the splendour and magnificence of the recep- 
 tion he gave that prince, should have money out 
 of the treasury, to enable him to set up some 
 pious memorial of his success. These instances 
 of adulation concluded with their changing the 
 name of the month Munychion to Demetrion^ 
 with calling the last day of every month De~ 
 metrias ; and the Dionysia, or feasts of Bacchus, 
 Demetria. 
 
 The gods soon showed how much they were 
 offended at these things. For the veil in which 
 were wrought the figures of Demetrius and Anti- 
 gonus, along with those of Jupiter and Minerva, 
 as they carried it through the Cera 7 Jtictis, was 
 rent asunder by a sudden storm of wind. Hem- 
 lock grew up in great quantities round the altars 
 of those princes, though it is a plant seldom 
 found in that country. On the day when the 
 Dionysia were to be celebrated, they were forced 
 
 Eleusius ; from whence it was brought back and 
 consecrated in the citadel. 
 
 * Medimni. 
 
 t No other people were found capable of such 
 vile adulation. Their servility showed how little 
 they deserved the liberty that was restored them. 
 
 X Every fifth year the Athenians celebrated 
 the Fanathenceay or festival of Minerva, and 
 carried in procession the Peplum^ or holy veil, in 
 which the defeat of the Titans, and the actions 
 of Minerva, were inwrought. In this veil, too, 
 they placed the figures of tho.se commanders who 
 had distinguished themselves by their victories ; 
 and from thence came the expression, that such 
 a one was worthy of the PepLu 7 n ; meaning that 
 he was a brave soldier. As to the form of the 
 Peplmn^ it was a large robe without sleeves. It 
 was drawn by land in a machine like a ship along 
 the Ceraynicus^ as far as the temple of Ceres at 
 
DEMETRIUS. 6 „ 
 
 to put a stop to the procession by the excessive 
 cold, which came entirely out of season ; and 
 there fell so strong a hoar frost, that it blasted 
 not only the vines and fig-trees, but great part 
 of the corn in the blade. Hence, Philippides, 
 who was an enemy to Stratocles, thus attacked 
 him in one of his comedies ; “ Who was the 
 
 wicked cause of our vines being blasted by the 
 frost, and of the sacred veil being rent asunder ? 
 He who transferred the honours of the gods to 
 rnen : it is^he, not comedy,* that is the ruin of 
 the people. Philippides enjoyed the friendship 
 
 of Lysimachus, and the Athenians received many 
 favours from that prince on his account. Nay, 
 whenever Lysimachus was waited on by this 
 poet, or happened to meet him, he considered it 
 as a good omen, and a happy time to enter upon 
 any great business or important expedition. 
 Beside.s, he was a man of excellent character, 
 never importunate, intriguing, or over officious, 
 like those who are bred in a court. One day 
 Lysimachus called to him in the most obliging 
 manner, and said, “What is there of mine that 
 you would share in?” “Anything,” said he, 
 
 but your secrets.” I have purposely contrasted 
 these characters, that the difference may be 
 obvious between the comic writer and the de- 
 magogue. 
 
 What exceeded all the rage of flattery we 
 have mentioned was the decree proposed by 
 Dromoclides the Sphettian ; according to which 
 they were to consult the oracle of Demetrius, as 
 to the manner in which they were to dedicate 
 certain shields at Delphi. It was conceived in 
 these terms : “ In a fortunate hour, be it decreed 
 by the people, that a citizen of Athens be ap- 
 pointed to go to the god protector, and, after due 
 .sacrifices offered, demand of Demetrius, the god 
 protector, what will be the most pious, the most 
 honourable and expeditious method of conse- 
 crating the intended offerings. And it is hereby 
 enacted, that the people cf Athens will follow the 
 method dictated by his oracle.” By this mockery 
 of incense to his vanity, who was scarcely in his 
 senses before, they rendered him perfectly in- 
 sane. 
 
 During his stay at Athens, he married Eui'ydice 
 a descendant of the ancient Miltiade.s, who was 
 the widow of Opheltas king of Gyrene, and had 
 returned to Athens after his death. The Athe- 
 nians reckoned this a particular favour and 
 honour to their city ; though Demetrius made no 
 sort of difficulty of marrying, and had many 
 wives at the same time. Of all his wives, he 
 paid most respect to Phila, because she was the 
 daughter of Antipater, and had been married to 
 Graterus, who, of all the successors of Alexander 
 was most regretted by the Macedonians. Deme- 
 mus was very young when his father persuaded 
 him to marry her, though she was advanced in 
 life, and on that account unfit for him. As he 
 was disinclined to the match, Antigonus is said 
 to have repeated to him that verse of Euripides 
 with a happy parody : * , 
 
 : When Fortune spreads her stores, we yield to 
 marriage 
 
 Against the bent of nature : 
 
 ^ly putting marriage instead of bondage. 
 However, the re.spect which Demetrius paid Phila 
 
 u ^ nature but 
 
 that he publicly entertained many mistresses, as 
 well slaves as free-born women, and was more 
 infamous for his excesses of that sort, than any 
 other prince of his time. 
 
 Meantime his father called him to take the 
 conduct of the war against Ptolemy; and he 
 found it necessary to obey him. But as it gave 
 undertaken for 
 
 the liberties of Greece, which was so much more 
 advantageous in point of glory, he sent to Gleori- 
 des, who commanded for Pompey in Sicyon and 
 Corinth, and offered him a pecuniary considera- 
 tion, on condition that he would set those cities 
 fr^c* Cleonides, not accepting the proposal 
 Demetrius immediately embarked his troops, and 
 Cyprus. There he had an engagement 
 with Menelaus, brother to Ptolemy, and defeated 
 him. Ptolemy himself soon after made his ap- 
 pearance with a great number of land forces, and 
 a considerable fleet. On which occasion, several 
 menacing and haughty messages passed between 
 them. Ptolemy bade Demetrius depart, before 
 he collected all his forces and trod him under 
 foot ; and Demetrius said, he would let Ptolemy 
 go, if he would promise to evacuate Sicyon and 
 Gonnth. 
 
 The approaching battle awaked the attention 
 Jiot only of the parties concerned, but of all other 
 princes ; for, beside the uncertainty of the event, 
 so much depended upon it that the conqueror 
 would not be master of Gvprus and Syria alone 
 but superior to all his rivals in power. Ptolemy 
 advanced with 150 ships, and he had ordered 
 Menelaus, with sixty more, to come out of the 
 harbour of Salamis, in the heat of the battle, and 
 put the enemy in disorder, by falling on his rear. 
 Against these sixty ships, Demetrius appointed a 
 guard of ten, for that number was sufficient to 
 block up the mouth of the harbour. His land 
 forces he ranged on the adjoining promontories 
 and then bore down upon his adversary with 180 
 ships. This he did with so much impetuosity 
 that Ptolemy could not stand the shock, but was 
 defeated, and fled with eight ships only, which 
 were all that he saved. I or seventy were taken 
 with their crews, and the rest were sunk in the 
 engagement. His numerous train, his servants, 
 friends, wives, arms, money, and machines, that 
 were stationed near the fleet in transports, all 
 fell into the hands of Demetrius, and he carried 
 them to his camp. 
 
 Among these was the celebrated Lamia, who at 
 first was only taken notice of for her performing 
 on the flute, which was by no means contemptible 
 but afterwards became famous as a courtesan! 
 By this time her beauty was in the wane, yet she 
 captivated Demetrius, though not near her age 
 and so effectually enslaved him by the peculiar 
 DOwer of her address, that, though other women 
 lad a passion for him, he could only think of 
 tier. 
 
 After the sea fight, Menelaus made no further 
 resistance, but surrendered Salamis with all the 
 ships, and the land forces,, which consisted of 
 [200 horse, and 12,000 foot. 
 
 * It is probable that Stratocles, and the other 
 persons of his character, inveighed against the 
 dramatic writers, on account of the liberties they 
 took with their vices. Though this was after i 
 AthenT^ middle comedy prevailed at « 
 
6I2 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 This victory, so great in itself, Demetrius ren- 
 dered still more glorious by generosity and hu- 
 manity, in giving the enemy’s dead an honourable 
 interment, and setting the prisoners free. He 
 selected 1200 complete suits of armour frorn the 
 spoils, and bestowed them on the Athenians. 
 Aristodemus, the Milesian, was the person he 
 sent to his father with an account of the victory. 
 Of all the courtiers, this man was the boldest 
 flatterer ; and, on the present occasion, he de- 
 signed to outdo himself. When he arrived on the 
 coast of Syria from Cyprus, he would not suffer 
 the ship to make land ; but ordering it to anch 9 r 
 at a distance, and all the company to remain m 
 it, he took the boat, and went on shore alone. 
 He advanced towards the palace of Antigonus, 
 who was watching for the event of this battle 
 with all the solicitude that is natural to a man 
 who has so great a concern at stake. As soon as 
 he was informed that the messenger was coming, 
 his anxiety increased to such a degree that he 
 could scarce keep within his palace. He sent his 
 officers and friends, one after another, to Aristo- 
 demus, to demand what intelligence he brought. 
 But, instead of giving any of them an answer, he 
 walked on with great silence and solemnity. 
 The king by this time much alarmed, and having 
 no longer patience, went to the door to meet him. 
 
 A great crowd was gathered about Aristodemus, 
 and people were running from all quarters to the 
 palace to hear the news. When he was near 
 enough to be heard, he stretched out his hand, 
 and cried aloud, “Hail to king Antigonus! we 
 have totally beaten Ptolemy at sea; we are 
 masters of Cyprus, and have made i6,8ocj 
 prisoners.” Antigonus answered, “ Hail to you 
 too, my good friend I but 1 will punish you for 
 torturing us so long; you shall wait long for 
 your reward.” , . 
 
 The people now, for the first time, proclaimed 
 Antigonus and Demetrius kings. Antigonus had 
 the diadem immediately put on by his friends. 
 He sent one to Demetrius ; and in the letter that 
 accompanied it, addressed him under the style of 
 king. The Egyptians, when they were apprised 
 of this circumstance, gave Ptolemy likewise the 
 title of king, that they might not appear to be 
 dispirited with their late defeat. The other suc- 
 cessors of Alexander caught eagerly at the oppor- 
 tunity to aggrandize themselves. _ Lysimachus 
 took the diadem ; and Seleucus did the same in 
 his transactions with the Greeks. The latter had 
 worn it some time, when he gave audience to the 
 barbarians. Cassander alone, while others wrote 
 to him, and saluted him as king, prefixed his 
 name to the letters in the same manner as for- 
 raerly. , . 
 
 This title proved not a mere addition to their 
 name and figure. It gave them higher notions. 
 It introduced a pompousness into their manners, 
 and self-importance into their discourse. Just as 
 tragedians, when they take the habit of kings, 
 change their gait, their voice, their whole deport- 
 ment, and manner of address. After this they 
 became more severe in their judicial capacity ; 
 for they laid aside that dissimulation with which 
 they had concealed their power, and which had 
 made them much milder and more favourable to 
 their subjects. So much could one word of a 
 flatterer do ! such a change did it effect in the 
 whole face of the world ! 
 
 Antigonus, elated with his son’s achievements 
 
 at Cyprus, immediately marched against Pto- 
 lemy ; commanding his land forces in person, 
 while Demetrius, with a powerful fleet attended 
 him along the coast. One of Antigonus’s friends, 
 named Medius, had the event of this expedition 
 communicated to him in a dream. He thought 
 that Antigonus and his whole army were running 
 a race. At first he seemed to run with great 
 swiftness and force ; but afterwards his strength 
 gradually abated ; and, on turning, he bee une 
 very weak, and drew his breath with such pain, 
 that he could scarce recover himself. Accord- 
 ingly, Antigonus met with many difficulties at 
 land, and Demetrius encountered such a storm at 
 sea, that he was in danger of being driven upon 
 an impracticable shore. In this storm he lost 
 many of his ships, and returned without effecting 
 anything. _ • j 
 
 Antigonus was now little short of eighty ; and 
 his great size and weight disqualified him for 
 war, still more than his age. _ He therefore left 
 the military department to his son, who by his 
 good fortune, as well as ability, managed it in 
 the happiest manner. Nor was Antigonus hurt 
 by his son’s debaucheries, his expensive appear- 
 ance, or his long carousals : for these were the 
 things in which Demetrius employed himself 
 in time of peace with the utmost licentiousness 
 and most unbounded avidity. But in war, no 
 man, however naturally temperate, exceeded him 
 in sobriety. 
 
 When the power that Lamia had over him was 
 evident to all the world, Demetrius came after 
 some expedition or other to salute his lather, and 
 kissed him so cordially that he laughed and^ said, 
 “ Surely, my son, you think you are kissing 
 Lamia.” Once when he had been spending many 
 days with his friends over the bottle, he excused 
 himself at his return to court by saying, that he 
 had been hindered by a defluxion. “ So I heard,” 
 said Antigonus ; “ but whether was the defluxion 
 from Thasos or from Chios?” Another time, 
 being informed that he was indisposed, he went 
 to see him ; and when he came to the door, he 
 met one of his favourites going out. He went 
 in, however, and sitting down by him, took hold 
 of his hand. Demetrius said his fever had now 
 left him. “I know it,” said AnUgonus, “for 
 I met it this moment at the door.” With such 
 mildness he treated his son’s faults, out of regard 
 to his excellent performances. It is the custom 
 of the Scythians in the midst of their carousals to 
 strike the strings of their bows, to recall, as it 
 were, their courage which is melting away m 
 pleasure. But Demetrius one while gave himself 
 up entirely to pleasure, and another^ while to 
 business ; he did not intermix them. His military 
 talents, therefore, did not suffer by his attentions 
 of a gayer kind. ^ ^ ^ , 
 
 Nay, he seemed to show greater abilities in his 
 preparations for war than in the use of them. He 
 was not content unless he had stores that were 
 more than sufficient. There was something 
 peculiarly great in the construction of his ships 
 and engines, and he took an unwearied pleasure 
 in the inventing of new ones. For he was in- 
 genious in the speculative part of mechanics ; and 
 he did not, like other princes, apply his taste and 
 knowledge of those arts to the purposes of diver- 
 sion, or to pursuits of no utility, such as playing 
 on the flute, painting, or turning. 
 iEropus, king of Macedon, spent his hours 
 
DEMETRIUS, 613 
 
 of leisure in making little tables and lamps. 
 Attains,* sumamed Philometer,f amused himself 
 with planting poisonous herbs, not only henbane 
 and hellebore, but hemlock, aconite, and doryc- 
 nium.J These he cultivated in the royal gardens, 
 and beside gathering them at their proper seasons, 
 made it his business to know the qualities of their 
 juices and fruit. And the kings of Parthia took 
 a pride in forging and sharpening heads for arrows. 
 But the meckamcs of Demetrius were of a princely 
 kind ; there was always something great in the 
 fabric. Together with a spirit of curiosity and 
 love of the arts, there appeared in all his works 
 a grandeur of design and dignity of invention, so 
 that they were not only worthy of the genius and 
 wealth but of the hand of a king. His friends 
 were astonished at their greatness, and his very 
 enemies were pleased with their beauty. Nor is 
 this description of him at all exaggerated. His 
 enemies used to stand upon the shore, looking 
 with admiration upon his galleys of ^teen or 
 sixteen banks of oars, as they sailed along ; and 
 his engines called helepoles, were a pleasing 
 spectacle to the very towns which he besieged. 
 This is evident from facts. Lysimachus, who of 
 all the princes of his time was the bitterest enemy 
 to Demetrius, when he came to compel him to 
 raise the siege of Soli in Cilicia, desired he would 
 show him his engines of war, and his manner of 
 navigating the galleys ; and he was so struck with 
 the sight that he immediately retired. And the 
 Rhodians, after they had stood a long siege, and 
 at last compromised the affair, requested him to 
 leave some of his engines, as monuments both of 
 his power and of their valour. 
 
 His war with the Rhodians was occasioned by 
 their alliance with Ptolemy ; and in the course of 
 it he brought the largest of his helepoles uo to 
 their walls. Its base was square ; each of its 
 sides at the bottom forty-eight cubits wide ; and 
 it was sixty-six cubits high. The sides of the 
 several divisions gradually lessened, so that the 
 top was much narrower than the bottom. The 
 inside was divided into several storeys or rooms, 
 one above another. The front which was turned 
 towards the enemy had a window in each storey, 
 through which missive weapons of various kinds 
 were thrown: for it was filled with men who 
 practised every method of fighting. It neither 
 shook nor veered the least in its motion, but 
 rolled on in a steady upright position. And as it 
 moved with a horrible noise, it at once pleased 
 and terrified the spectators. § 
 
 He had two coats of mail brought from Cjqirus, fl 
 
 for his use in this war, each of which weighed 
 forty mince. Zoilus the maker, to .show the 
 excellence of their temper, ordered a dart to 1^ 
 shot at one of them from an engine at the distance 
 of twenty-six paces; and it stood so firm that 
 there was no more mark upon it than what might 
 be niade with such a style as is used in writing. 
 This he took for himself, and gave the other to 
 Alcimus the Epirot, a man of the greatest bravery 
 and strength of any in his army. The Epirot’s 
 whole suit of armour weighed two talents, whereas 
 that of others weighed no more than one. He 
 fell in the siege of Rhodes, in an action near the 
 theatre. 
 
 ^ the Rhodians defended themselves with great 
 spirit, Demetrius was not able to do anything 
 considerable. There was one thing in their con- 
 duct which he particularly resented, and for that 
 reason he persisted in the siege. They had taken 
 the vessel in which were letters from his wife 
 Phila, together with some robes and pieces of 
 tapest^, and they sent it, as it was, to Ptolemy. 
 In which they were far from imitating the polite- 
 ness of the Athenians, who, when they were at 
 war with Philip, happening to take his couriers, 
 read all the other letters, but sent him that of 
 Olympias with the seal entire. 
 
 But Demetrius, though much incensed, did not 
 retaliate upon the Rhodians, though he soon had 
 an opportunity. Protogenes of Caunus was at 
 that time painting for them the history of Jaly- 
 sus,* and had almost finished it when Demetrius 
 seized it in one of the suburbs. The Rhodians 
 sent a herald to entreat him to spare the work, 
 and not suffer it to be destroyed. Upon which he 
 said, he would rather bum the pictures of his 
 father than hurt so laborious a piece of art. For 
 Protogenes is said to have been seven years in 
 finishing it. Apelles tells us, that when he first 
 saw it, he was so much astonished that he could 
 not speak ; and at last, when he recovered him- 
 
 of which armour was made even in the time of 
 the Trojan war ; and Agamemnon had a cuirass 
 sent him from Cyniras King of Cyprus. Hom. 
 I Had, xi. 
 
 * We have not met with the particular subject 
 of this famous painting. Jalysus was one of the 
 fabulous heroes, the son of Ochimus and grandson 
 of Apollo ; and there is a town in Rhodes called 
 Jalysus, which probably had its name from him. 
 It was in this picture that Protogenes, when he 
 had long laboured in vain to paint the foam of a 
 dog, happily hit it off, by throwing the brush in 
 anger at the dog’s mouth. iElian, as well as 
 Plutarch, says, that he was seven years in finish- 
 ing it. Pliny tells us, that he gave it four coats 
 of colours, that when one was effaced by time, 
 another might supply its place. He tells us, too, 
 that while Protogenes was at work, he was visited 
 by Demetrius, and when the latter asked him how 
 he could prosecute his work with so much calm- 
 ness under the rage of war, he answered, that 
 though Demetrius was at war with Rhodes, he 
 did not suppose he was at war with the Arts. 
 He is said to have lived on lupines during the 
 time he was employed on this painting, that his 
 judgment might not be clouded by luxurious diet. 
 The picture was brought to Rome by Cassius, and 
 placed in the Temple of Peace, where it remained 
 till the time of Commodus ; when, together with 
 the temple, it was consumed by fire. 
 
 * Plutarch does not do that honour to Attalus 
 which he deserves, when he mentions his employ- 
 ments as unworthy of a prince. He made many 
 experiments in natural philosophy, and wrote a 
 treatise on agriculture. Other kings, particularly 
 Hiero and Archelaus, did the same. 
 
 f This is a mistake in Plutarch. Philometer 
 was another prince, who made agriculture ^s 
 amusement. 
 
 1 Doryc7tium was a common poisonous plant, 
 which was so called from the points of spears 
 being tinged with its juices. 
 
 § Diodorus Siculus says, this machine had nine 
 stories ; and that it rolled on four large wheels, 
 each of which was sixteen feet high. 
 
 !! Pliny says, that the C3nprian adamant was 
 impregnable. C5rpru3 was famous for the metal 
 
6i4 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 self, he said, “ A masterpiece of labour ! A 
 wonderful performance ! But it wants those 
 graces which raise the fame of my paintings to 
 the skies,” This piece was afterwards carried to 
 Rome, and, being added to the number of those 
 collected there, was destroyed by fire. The 
 Rhodians now began to grow weary of the war. 
 Demetrius, too, wanted only a pretence to put an 
 end to it, and he found one. The Athenians 
 came and reconciled them on this condition, that 
 the Rhodians should assist Antigonus and Derne- 
 trius as allies, in all their wars except those with 
 Ptolemy. 
 
 At the same time the Athenians called him to 
 their succour against Cassander, who was be- 
 sieging their city. In consequence of which he 
 sailed thither with a fleet of 330 ships, and a 
 numerous body of land forces. With these he 
 not only drove Cassander out of Attica, but fol- 
 lowed him to Thermopylae, and entirely defeated 
 him there. Heraclea then voluntarily submitted, 
 and he received into his army 6000 Macedonians 
 who came over to him. In his return he restored 
 liberty to the Greeks within the straits of Ther- 
 mopylae, took the Boeotians into his alliance, and 
 made himself master of Cenchreae. He likewise 
 reduced Phyle and Panactus, the bulwarks of 
 Attica, which had been garrisoned by Cassander, 
 and put them in the hands of the Athenians again. 
 The Athenians, though they had lavished honours 
 upon him before in the most extravagant manner, 
 yet contrived on this occasion to appear new in 
 their flattery. They gave orders that he should 
 lodge in the back part of the Parthenon ; which 
 accordingly he did, and Minerva was said to have 
 received him as her guest ; a guest not very fit to 
 come under her roof, or suitable to her virgin purity. 
 
 In one of their expeditions his brother Philip 
 took up his quarters in a house where there were 
 three young women. His father Antigonus said 
 nothing to Philip, but called the quarter-master, 
 and said to him in his presence, “ Why do not you 
 remove my son out of this lodging, where he is so 
 much straitened for room ? ” And Demetrius, who 
 ought to have reverenced Minerva, if on no other 
 account, yet as his eldest sister (for so he affected 
 to call her), behaved in such a manner to persons 
 of both sexes who were above the condition of 
 slaves, and the citadel was so polluted with his 
 debaucheries, that it appeared to be kept sacred 
 in some degree, when he indulged himself only 
 with such prostitutes as Chrysis, Lamia, Demo, 
 and Anticyra. 
 
 Some things we choose to pass over out of 
 regard to the character of the city of Athens ; but 
 the virtue and chastity of Democles ought not .to 
 be left under the veil of silence. Democles was 
 very young ; and his beauty was no secret to 
 Demetrius. Indeed, his surname unhappily de- 
 clared it, for he was called Democles the Ha 7 td- 
 some. Demetrius, through his emissaries, left 
 nothing unattempted to gain him by great offers, 
 or to intimidate him by tnreats ; but neither could 
 prevail. He left the wrestling ring and all public 
 exercises, and made use only of a private bath. 
 Demetrius watched his opportunity, and surprised 
 him there alone. The boy seeing nobody near to 
 assist him, and the impossibility of resisting with 
 any effect, took off the cover of the caldron, and 
 jumped into the boiling water. It is true, he came 
 to an unworthy end, but his sentiments were 
 worthy of his country and of his personal merit. 
 
 Very different were those of Clesenetus the son 
 of Cleomedon. That youth having procured his 
 father the remission of a fine of fifty talents, 
 brought letters from Demetrius to the people, 
 signifying his pleasure in that respect. By which, 
 he not only dishonoured himself, but brought 
 great trouble upon the city. The people took off 
 the fine, but at the same time they made a decree, 
 that no citizen should for the future bring any 
 letter from Demetrius. Yet when they found that 
 Demetrius was disobliged at it, and expressed his 
 resentment in strong terms, they not only repealed 
 the act, but punished the persons who proposed 
 and supported it, some with death, and some 
 with banishment. They likewise passed a new 
 edict, importing that the people of Athens 
 had resolved, that whatsoever thing Demetrius 
 might command, should be accounted holy in 
 respect of the gods, and just in r.espect of men. 
 Some person of better principle on this occasion 
 happening to say, that Stratocles was mad in 
 proposing such decrees, Demochares the Leuco- 
 nian answered :* “ He would be mad, if he were 
 not mad.” Stratocles found his advantage in his 
 servility ; and for this saying Demochares was 
 prosecuted and banished the city. To such 
 meannesses were the Athenians brought, when 
 the garrison seemed to be removed out of their 
 city, and they pretended to be a free people ! 
 
 Demetrius afterwards passed into Peloponnesus, 
 where he found no resistance, for all his enemies 
 fled before him, or surrendered their cities. He 
 therefore reduced with ease that part of the 
 country called Acte, and all Arcadia, except 
 Mantinea. Argos, Sicyon, and Corinth, he set 
 free from their garrisons, by giving the com- 
 manding officers 100 talents to evacuate them. 
 About that time the feasts of Juno came on at 
 Argos, and Demetrius presided in the games and 
 other exhibitions. During these solemnities he 
 married Deidamia, the daughter of iEcides, king 
 of the Molossians, and sister of Pyrriius. He 
 told the Sicyonians that they lived out of their 
 city, and showing them a more advantageous 
 situation, persuaded them to build one where the 
 town now stands. Along with the situation he 
 likewise changed the name, calling the town 
 Demetrias, instead of Sicyon. 
 
 The states being assembled at the Isthmus, and 
 a prodigious number of people attending, he was 
 proclaimed general of all (Greece, as Philip and 
 Alexander had been before ; and in the elation of 
 power and success, he thought himself a much 
 greater man. Alexander robbed no other prince 
 of his title, nor did he ever declare himself king 
 of kings, though he raised many both to the style 
 and authority of kings. But Demetrius thought 
 no man worthy of that title, except his father and 
 himself. He even ridiculed those who made use 
 of it, and it was with pleasure^ he heard the 
 sycophants at his table drinking king Demetrius, 
 Seleucus commander of the elephants, Ptolemy 
 admiral, Lysimachus treasurer, and Agathocles 
 the Sicilian governor of the islands. The rest of 
 them only laughed at such extravagant instances 
 of vanity. Lysimachus alone was angry, because 
 Demetrius seemed to think him no better than a 
 eunuch. For the princes of the east had 
 generally eunuchs for their treasurers. Lysima- 
 chus, indeed, was the most violent enemy that he 
 
 * The nephew of Demosthenes. 
 
DEMETRIUS. 
 
 had ; and now taking an opportunity to disparage 
 him on account of his passion for Lamia, he said 
 this was the first time he had seen a whore act 
 in a tragedy.* Demetrius said in answer, “My 
 whore is an honester woman than his Penelope.” 
 When he was preparing to return to Athens, he 
 wrote to the republic, that on his arrival he 
 intended to be initiated, and to be immediately 
 admitted, not only to the less mysteries, but even 
 to those called intuitive. This urns unlawful and 
 unprecedented ; tor the less mysteries were 
 cele rated in February,! and the greater in 
 September ;!; and none were admitted to the 
 intuitive till a year at least after they had 
 attended the greater mysteries. § When the 
 letters were read, Pythodorus, the torch bearer, 
 was the only person who ventured to oppose the 
 demand ; and his opposition was entirely ineffec- 
 tual. Stratocles procured a decree that the 
 month of Munychion should be called and re- 
 puted the month of Afttkestenon, to give Deme- 
 trius an opportunity for his first initiation, which 
 was to be performed in the ward of Agra. After 
 which, Munychion was changed again into Roedro- 
 mion. By these means Demetrius was admitted 
 to the greater mysteries, and to immediate in- 
 spection. Hence those strokes of satire upon 
 Stratocles, from the poet Philippides : “ The man 
 who can contract the whole year into one month : ” 
 and with respect to Demetrius’s being lodged in 
 the Partke 7 ion : “ The man who turns the temples 
 into inns, and brings prostitutes into the company 
 of the virgin goddess.” 
 
 But amongst the rnany abuses and enormities 
 committed in their city, no one seems to have 
 ^ven the Athenians greater uneasiness than this. 
 He ordered them to raise 250 talents in a very 
 short time, and the sum was exacted with the 
 gi'eatest rigour. When the money was brought 
 in, and he saw it all together, he ordered it to be 
 given to Lamia and his other mistresses to buy 
 soap. Thus the disgrace hurt them more than 
 me loss, and the application more than the impost. 
 Some, however, say, that it was not to the 
 Athenians he behaved in this manner, but to 
 the people of Thessaly. Besides this disagreeable 
 tax. Lamia extorted money from many persons on 
 her own authority, to enable her to provide an 
 entertainment for the king. And the expense of 
 that supper was so remarkable, that Lynceus the 
 Samian took pains to give a description of it. 
 For the same reason, a comic poet of those times, 
 wth equal wit and truth, called Lamia an 
 Helepolis. And Demochares, the Solian, called 
 Demetrius Mutkos, that is, fable, because he too 
 had his Lamia. || 
 
 ! The great interest that Lamia had with Deme- 
 
 trius, m consequence of his passion for her, excited 
 ; a spirit of envy and aversion to her, not only in 
 me breasts of his wives, but of his friends. 
 Demetrius having sent ambassadors to Lysima- 
 chus, on some occasion or other, that prince 
 amused himself one day with showing them the 
 deep wounds he had received from a lion’s claws 
 in his arms and thighs, and gave them an account 
 of his being shut up with that wild beast by 
 Alexander the Great, and of the battle he had 
 with it.^ Upon which they laughed, i’nd said. 
 The king our master, too, bears on his ^leck the 
 marks of a dreadful wild beast called a Lamia.” 
 Indeed, it was strange that he should at first have 
 so great an objection against the disparity of years 
 between him and Phila, and afterwards fall into 
 such a lasting captivity to Lamia, though she had 
 passed her prime at their first acquaintance. One 
 evening when Lamia had been playing on the 
 flute at supper, Demetrius asked Demo, surnamed 
 Mania, t what she thought of her. “ I think her 
 an old woman, sir,” said Demo. Another time, 
 when there vvas an extraordinary dessert on the 
 table, he said to her, “You see what fine things 
 Lamia sends me.” “My mother will send you 
 finer, ’ answered Demo, “ if you will but lie with 
 her.” 
 
 . We shall mention only one story more of Lamia, 
 which relates to her censure of the celebrated 
 judgment of Bocchoris. In Egypt there was a 
 young man extremely desirous of the favours of 
 a courte.san named Thonis, but she set too high a 
 price upon them. Afterwards he fancied that he 
 enjoyed her in a dream, and his desire was satis- 
 fied. Thonis, upon this, commenced an action 
 against him for the money ; and Bocchoris having 
 heard both parties, ordered the man to tell the 
 golJ that she demanded into a bason, and shake 
 It about before her, that she might enjoy the 
 sight of it. “ For fancy,” said he, “ is no more 
 than the shadow of truth.” Lamia did not think 
 this a just sentence ; because the woman’s desire 
 of the gold was not removed by the appearance of 
 It ; whereas the dream cured the passion of her 
 lover. 
 
 i’ne change in the fortunes and actions of the 
 subject of our narrative now turns the comic 
 scene into tragedy : all the other kings having 
 united their forces against Antigonus, Demetrius 
 left Greece in order to join him ; and was greatly 
 anirnated to find his father preparing for war with 
 a spirit above his years. Had Antigonus abated 
 a little of his pretensions, and restrained his am- 
 bition to govern the world, he might have kept 
 the pre-eminence among the successors of Alex- 
 ander, not only for himsel , but for his son after 
 him. But being naturally arrogant, imperious, 
 and no less insolent in his expressions than in 
 his actions, he exasperated many young and 
 
 modem stage needs not be put to the 
 assertion in favour of the ancient ; 
 the reason of it was, that there were no women 
 actors. Men in female dresses performed their 
 parts. 
 
 t Antkesterion. 
 
 t Boedromion, 
 
 § Plutarch in this place seems to make a 
 difference between the intuitive and the greater 
 mysteries, though they are commonly understood 
 to be the same. Casaubon and Meursius think 
 the text corrupt ; but the manner in which they 
 would restore it, does not render it less perplexed. 
 
 11 rabulous history mentions a queen of Libya, 
 who, out of rage for the loss of her own children, 
 
 ordered those of other women to be brought to 
 her, and devoured them. From whence she was 
 called Lamia, from the Phoenician word lakaina, 
 to devour. Upon this account, Diodorus tells us" 
 that Lamia became a bugbear to children. And 
 this satisfies M. Dacier with regard to the ex- 
 planatiori of this passage in Plutarch. 
 
 * Justin and Pausanias mention this; but Q. 
 Curtius doubts the truth of it : and he probably is 
 in the right. 
 
 t In English, Miss Madcap, 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 powerful princes against him. He boasted that 
 he could break the present league, and disperse 
 the united armies with as nrach ease as a boy 
 does a flock of birds, by throwing a stone, or 
 making a slight noise. 
 
 He had an army of more than 70,000 foot, 
 10,000 horse, and 75 elephants. The enemy’s 
 intantry consisted of 64,000 men, their cavalry of 
 10,500; they had 400 elephants, and 120 armed 
 chariots. When the two armies were in sight, 
 there was a visible change in the mind of Anti- 
 gonus, but rather with respect to his hopes than 
 his resolution. In other engagements his spirits 
 used to be high, his port lofty, his voice loud, 
 and his expressions vaunting ; insomuch that he 
 would sometimes in the heat of the action let fall 
 some jocular expression, to show his unconcern 
 and his contempt of his adversary. But at this 
 time he was observed for the most part to be 
 thoughtful and silent ; and one day he presented 
 his son to the army, and recommended him as his 
 successor. What appeared still more_ extra- 
 ordinary, was, that he took him aside into his 
 tent, and discoursed with him there ; for he never 
 used to communicate his intentions to him in 
 private, or to consult him in the least, but to rely 
 entirely on his own judgment, and to give orders 
 for the execution of what he had resolved on by 
 himself. It is reported that Demetrius, when_ 
 very young, once asked him when they should 
 decamp, and that he answered angrily, “ Are you 
 afraid that you only shall not hear the trumpet ? ” 
 On this occasion, it is true, their spirits were 
 depressed by ill omens. Demetrius dreamed that 
 Alexander came to him in a magniflcent suit of 
 armour, and asked him what was to be the word 
 in the ensuing battle. Demetrius answered, 
 Jtipiter and victory ; upon which Alexander 
 said, “ I go then to your adversaries, for they are 
 ready to receive me.” When the army was put 
 in order of battle, Antigonus stumbled as he went 
 out of his tent, and falling on his face, received a 
 considerable hurt. After he had recovered him- 
 self, he stretched out his hands towards heaven, 
 and prayed either for victory, or that he might 
 die before he was sensible that the day was lost. 
 
 When the battle was begun, Demetrius, at the 
 head of his best cavalry, fell upon Antiochus the 
 son of Seleucus, and .ought with so much brave^ 
 that he put the enemy to flight ; but by a vain 
 and unseasonable ambition to go upon the pursuit, 
 he lost the victory. For he went so far that he 
 could not get back to join his infantry, the 
 enemy’s elephants having taken up the inter- 
 mediate space. Seleucus, now seeing his adver- 
 sary’s foot deprived of their horse, did not attack 
 them, but rode about them as if he was going 
 every moment to charge ; intending by this man- 
 oeuvre both to terrify them, and to give them 
 opportunity to change sides. The event answered 
 his expectation. Great part separated from 
 the main body, and voluntarily came over to him : 
 the rest were put to the rout. When great num- 
 bers were bearing dowm upon Antigonus, one of 
 those that were about him, said, “They are 
 coming against you, sir.” He answered, “ What 
 other object can they have ? But Demetrius will 
 come to my assistance.” In this hope he con- 
 tinued to the last, still looking about for his son, 
 till he fell under a shower of darts. His servants 
 and his very friends forsook him : only Thorax, 
 of Larissa remained by' the dead body. 
 
 The battle being thus decided, the kings Who 
 were victorious, dismembered the kingdom of 
 Antigonus and Demetrius, like some great body, 
 and each took a limb ; thus adding to their own 
 dominions the provinces which these two princes 
 were possessed of before. Demetrius fled with 
 5000 foot and 4000 horse. And as he reached 
 Ephesus in a short time, and was in want of 
 money, it was e.xpected that he would not spare 
 the temple. However, he not only spared it 
 himself,* but fearing that his soldmrs might be 
 tempted to violate it, he immediately leit the 
 place, and embarked for Greece. His principal 
 dependence was upon the Athenians ; for with 
 them he had left his ships, his money, and his 
 wife Deidamia ; and in t.iis distress he thought 
 he could have no safer asylum than their affection. 
 He therefore pursued his voyage with all possible 
 expedition ; but ambassadors from Athens met 
 him near the Cyclades, and entreated him not to 
 think of going thither, because the people had 
 declared by an edict that they would receive no 
 king into their city. As for Deidamia, they had 
 conducted her to Megara with a proper retinue, 
 and all the respect due to her rank. This so 
 enraged Demetrius, that he was no longer master 
 of himself; though he had hitherto borne his 
 misfortune with sutticient calmness, and discovered 
 no mean and ungenerous sentiment in the great 
 change of his affairs. But to be deceived, beyond 
 all his expectation, by the Athenians ; to find by 
 facts that their affection, so great in appearance, 
 was only false and counterfeit, was a thing that 
 cut him to the heart. Indeed, excessive honours 
 are a very indifferent proof of the regard of 
 the people for kings and princes. For all the 
 value of those honours rests in their being 
 freely given ; and there can be no certainty of 
 that, because the givers may be under the in- 
 fluence of fear. And fear and love often produce 
 the same public declarations. For the same 
 reason wise princes will not look upon statues, 
 pictures, or divine honours, but rather consider 
 their own actions and behaviour, and, in con- 
 sequence thereof, either believe those honours 
 real, or disregard them as the dictates of necessity. 
 Nothing more frequently happens than that the 
 people hate their sovereign the most, at the time 
 that he is receiving the most immoderate honours, 
 the tribute of unwilling minds. 
 
 Demetrius, though he severely felt this ill 
 treatment, was not in a condition to revenge it ; 
 he therefore, by his envoys, expostulated with the 
 Athenians in moderate terms, and only desired 
 them to send him his galleys, among which there 
 was one of thirteen banks of oars. As soon as he 
 had received them, he steered for the Isthmus, but 
 found his affairs there in a very bad situation. 
 The cities expelled his garrisons, and were all 
 revolting to his enemies. Leaving Pyrrhus in 
 Greece, he then sailed to the Chersonesus, and by 
 the ravages he committed in the country, dis- 
 tressed Lysimachus, as well as enriched and 
 secured the fidelity of his own forces, which now 
 began to gather strength, and improve into a 
 respectable army. The other kings paid no 
 regard to Lysimachus, who, at the same time that 
 he was much more formidable in his power than 
 
 * A striking proof that adversity is the parent 
 of virtue ! 
 
Demetrius, was not in the least more moderate 
 in his conduct. 
 
 Soon after this, Seleucus sent proposals of 
 marriage to Stratonice, the daughter of De- 
 metrius by Phila. He had, indeed, already a son 
 named Antiochiis, by Apama, a Persian lady ; 
 but he thought that his dominions were sufficient 
 for more heirs, and that he stood in need of 
 this new alliance, because he saw Lysimachus 
 marrying one of Ptolemy’s daughters himself, 
 and taking the other for his son Agathocles. A 
 connection with Seleucus was a happy and unex- 
 pected turn of fortune for Demetrius. 
 
 He took his daughter, and sailed with his 
 whole fleet to Syria. In the course of the voyage 
 he was several times under a necessity of 
 making land, and he touched in particular upon 
 the coast of Cilicia, which had been given to 
 Plistarchus, the brother of Cassander, as his 
 share, after the defeat of Antigonus. Plistarchus 
 thinking himself injured by the descent which 
 Dernetrius made upon his country, went im- 
 mediately to Cassander, to complain of Seleucus 
 for having reconciled himself to the common 
 enemy without the concurrence of the other 
 kings. Demetrius be ng informed of his de- 
 parture, left the sea and marched up to Quinda ; 
 where, finding 1200 talents, the remains of his 
 father’s treasures, he _ carried them off, em- 
 barked again without interruption, and set sail 
 with the utmost expedition, his wife Phila having 
 joined him by the way. 
 
 Seleucus met him at Orossus. Their in- 
 terview was conducted in a sincere and princely 
 nianner, without any marks of design or sus- 
 picion. Seleucus invited Demetrius first to his 
 pavilion ; and then Demetrius entertained him in 
 his galley of thirteen banks of oars. They con- 
 versed at their ease, and passed the time together 
 without guards or arms ; till Seleucus took 
 Stratonice, and carried her with great pomp to 
 Antioch. ^ ^ 
 
 Demetrius seized the province of Cilicia, and 
 sent Phila to her brother Cassander, to answer 
 the accusations brought against him by Plis- 
 tarchus. Meantime, Deidamia came to him from 
 Greece, but she had not spent any long time with 
 him before she sickened and died ; and Demetrius 
 having accommodated matters with Ptolemy 
 through Seleucus, it was agreed that he should 
 marry Ptolemius, the daughter of that prince. 
 
 Hitherto Seleucus had behaved with honour 
 and propriety ; but afterwards he demanded that 
 Demetrius should surrender Cilicia to him for a 
 sum of money, and on his refusal to do that, 
 angrily insisted on having Tyre and Sidon. This 
 behaviour appeared unjustifiable and cruel. 
 When he already commanded Asia from the 
 Indies to the Syrian sea, how sordid was it to 
 quarrel for two cities with a prince who was his 
 father-in-law, and who laboured under so painful 
 a reverse of fortune. A strong proof how true 
 the maxim of Plato is, that “The man who would 
 be truly happy should not study to enlarge his 
 estate, but to contract his desires.” For he who 
 does not restrain his avarice must for ever be 
 poor. 
 
 However, Demetrius, far from being intimi- 
 dated, said, “Though I had lost a thousand 
 battles as great as that of Ipsus, nothing should 
 bring me to buy the alliance of Seleucus ; ” and, 
 upon this principle, he garrisoned these cities in 
 
 the strongest manner. About this time having 
 intelligence that Athens was divided into frac- 
 tions, and that Lachares, taking advantage of 
 these, had_ seized the government, he expected to 
 take the city with ease, if he appeared suddenly 
 before it. Accordingly he set out with a con- 
 siderable fleet, and crossed the sea without dan- 
 ger ; but, on the coast of Attica he met with a 
 storm, in which he lost many ships and great 
 numbers of his men. He escaped, however, him- 
 self, and began hostilities against Athens, though 
 with no great vigour.^ As his operations answered 
 no end, he sent his lieutenants to collect another 
 fleet, and jn the mean time entered Peloponnesus, 
 and laid siege to Messene. In one of the assaults 
 he was in great danger ; for a dart which came 
 from an engine, pierced through his jaw, and 
 entered his mouth. But he recovered, and re- 
 duced some cities that had revolted. After this, 
 he invaded Attica again, took Eleusis and Rham- 
 nus, and ravaged the country. Happening to 
 take a ship loaded with wheat, which was bound 
 for Athens, he hanged both the merchant and the 
 pilot. Ihis alarmed other merchants so much 
 that they forbore attempting anything of that 
 kind, so that a famine ensued ; and, together with 
 the want of bread corn, the people were in want 
 of everything else. A bushel of salt was sold for 
 forty drachmas,'^ and a peck f of wheat for three 
 hundred. A fleet of 150 ships, which Ptolemy 
 sent to their relief, appeared before ^gina ; but 
 the encouragement it afforded them was of short 
 continuance. A great reinforcement of ships 
 came to Demetrius from Peloponnesus and Cy- 
 prus, so that he had not in all fewer than 300. 
 Ptolemy’s fleet, therefore, weighed anchor and 
 steered off. The tyrant Lachares at the same 
 time made his escape privately, and abandoned 
 the city. 
 
 The Athenians, though they had made a decree 
 that no man, under pain of death, should men- 
 tion peace or reconciliation with Demetrius, now 
 opened the gates nearest him, and sent ambas- 
 sadors to his camp. Not that they expected'any 
 favour from him, but they were forced to take 
 that step by the extremity of famine. In the 
 course of it many dreadful things happened, and 
 this is related among the rest. A father and his 
 son were sitting in the same room in the last 
 despair ; when a dead mouse happening to fall 
 from the roof of the house, they both started up 
 and fought for it. Epicurus the philosopher is 
 said at that time to have supported his friends 
 and disciples with beans, which he shared with 
 them, and counted out to them daily. 
 
 In such a miserable condition was the city, 
 when Demetrius entered it. He ordered all the 
 Athenians to assemble in the theatre, which he 
 surrounded with his troops ; and having planted 
 his guards on each side the stage, he came down 
 through the passage by which the tragedians 
 enter. The fears of the people on his appear- 
 ance increased, but they were entirely dissipated 
 when he began to speak; for neither the accent 
 of his voice was loud, nor his expressions severe. 
 He coniplained of them in soft and easy terms, 
 and taking them again into favour, made them a 
 
 * Medimnus. 
 
 t Modins. These measures were something 
 more, but we give only the round quantity. See 
 the Table. 
 
6i8 
 
 PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 present of 100,000 measures of wheat,* and re- 
 established such an administration as was most 
 agreeable to them. 
 
 The orator Dromoclides observed the variety of 
 acclamations amongst the people, and that in the 
 joy of their hearts they endeavoured to outdo the 
 encomiums of those that spoke from the rostrum. 
 He therefore proposed a decree that the Piroeus 
 and the fort of Munychia should be delivered up 
 to king Demetrius. After this bill was passed, 
 Demetrius, on his own authority, put a garrison 
 in the museum; lest, if there should be another 
 defection amongst the people, it might keep them 
 from other ente: prises. 
 
 The Athenians thus reduced, Demetrius im- 
 mediately lormed a design upon Lacedaemon. 
 King Archidamus met him at Mantinea, where 
 Demetrius defeated him in a pitched battle ; and, 
 after he had put him to flight, he entered La- 
 conia. There was another action almost in sight 
 of Sparta, in which he killed 200 of the enemy, 
 and made 500 prisoners ; so that he seemed almost 
 master of a town which hitherto had never been 
 taken. But surely fortune never displayed such 
 sudden and extraordinary vicissitudes in the life 
 of any other prince ; in no other scene of things 
 did she so often change from low to high, from a 
 glorious to an abject condition, or again repair 
 the ruins she had made. Hence he is said, in his 
 greatest adversity, to have addressed her in the 
 words of Aischylus — 
 
 Thou gavest me life and honour, and thy hand 
 
 Now Strikes me to the heart. 
 
 When his affairs seemed to be in so promising a 
 train for power and empire, news was brought 
 that Lysimachus, in the hrst place, had taken the 
 cities he had in Asia, that Ptolemy had dispos- 
 sessed him of all Cyprus, except the city of 
 Salamis, in which he had left his children and his 
 mother, and that this town was now actually 
 besieged. Fortune, however, like the woman in 
 Archilochus — 
 
 Whose right hand offered water, while the left 
 
 Bore hostile fire, — 
 
 though she drew him from Lacedaemon by these 
 alarming tidings, yet soon raised him a new scene 
 of light and hope. She availed herself of these 
 circumstances. 
 
 After the death of Cassander, his eldest son 
 Philip had but a short reign over the Macedo- 
 nians, for he died soon after his father. The two 
 remaining brothers were perpetually at variance. 
 One of them, named Antipater, having killed his 
 mother Thessalonica, Alexander the other bro- 
 ther called in the Greek princes to his assistance, 
 Pyrrhus from Epirus, and Demetrius from Pelo- 
 ponnesus. Pyrrhus arrived first, and seized a 
 considerable part of Macedonia, which he kept 
 for his reward, and by that means became a for- 
 midable neighbour to Alexander. Demetrius no 
 sooner received the letters than he marched his 
 forces thither likewise, and the young prince was 
 still more afraid of him on account of his great 
 name and dignity. He met him, however, at 
 Dium, and received him in the most respectful 
 manner, but told him at the same time that his 
 affairs did not now require his presence. Hence 
 mutual jealousies arose, and Demetrius, as he 
 
 * Medmmi. 
 
 was going to sup with Alexander upon his invita- 
 tion, was informed that there was a design 
 against his life, which was to be put in execu- 
 tion in the midst of the entertainment. Deme- 
 tiius was not in the least disconcerted ; he only 
 slackened his pace, and gave orders to his 
 generals to keep the troops under arms ; after 
 which he took his guards and the officers of his 
 household, who were much more numerous than 
 those of Alexander, and commanded them to 
 enter the banqueting room with him, and to 
 remain there till he rose from table. Alexander’s 
 people, intimidated by his train, durst not attack 
 Demetrius : and he, for his part, pretending that 
 he was not disposed to drink that evening, soon 
 withdrew. N ext day, he prepared to decamp ; 
 and, alleging that he was called off by some new 
 emergency, desired Alexander to excuse him if 
 he left him soon this time ; and assured him that 
 at some other opportunity he would make a 
 longer stay. Alexander rejoiced that he was 
 going away voluntarily, and without any hostile 
 intentions, and accompanied him as far as Thes- 
 saly. When they came to Larissa, they renewed 
 their invitations, but both with malignity in their 
 hearts. In consequence of these polite man- 
 oeuvres, Alexander fell into the snare of Deme- 
 trius. He would not go with a guard, lest he 
 should teach the other to do the same. He there- 
 fore suffered that which he was preparing for his 
 enemy, and which he only deferred lor the surer 
 and more convenient execution. He went to sup 
 with Demetrius ; and as his host rose up in the 
 midst of the feast, Alexander was terrified, and 
 rose up with him. Demetrius, when he was at 
 the door, said no more to his guards than this, 
 “ Kill the man that follows me and then went 
 out. Upon which, they cut Alexander in pieces, 
 and his friends who attempted to assist him. 
 One of these is reported to have said, as he was 
 dying, “Demetrius is but one day beforehand 
 with us.” 
 
 The night was, as might be expected, full of 
 terror and confusion. In the morning the Mace- 
 donians were greatly disturbed with the appre- 
 hension that Demetrius would fall upon them 
 with all his forces ; but when, instead of an ap- 
 pearance of hostilities, he sent a message desiring 
 to speak with them, and vindicate what was done, 
 they recovered their spirits, and resolved to re- 
 ceive him with civility : when he came, he found 
 it unnecessary to make long speeches. They 
 hated Antipater lor the murder of his mother, and 
 as they had no better prince at hand, they de- 
 clared Demetrius king, and conducted him into 
 Macedonia. The Macedonians who were at 
 home, proved not averse to the change ; for they 
 always remembered with horror Cassander’s base 
 behaviour to Alexander the Great ; and if they 
 had any regard left for the moderation of old 
 Antipater, it turned all in favour of Demetrius, 
 who had married his daughter Phila, and had a 
 son by her to succeed him in the throne, a youth 
 who was already grown up, and at this very time 
 bore arms under his father. 
 
 Immediately after this glorious turn of fortune, 
 Demetrius received news that Ptolemy had set 
 his wife and children at liberty, and dismissed 
 them with presents and other tokens of honour. 
 He was informed too, that his daughter, who had 
 been married to Seleucus, was now wife to An- 
 tiochus, the son of that prince, and declared 
 
DEMETRIUS, 
 
 619 
 
 queen of the barbarous nations in Upper Asia. 
 Antiochus was violently enamoured of the young 
 Stratonice, though she had a son by his father. 
 His condition was extremely unhappy. He made 
 the greatest efforts to conquer his passion, but 
 they were of no avail. At last, considering that 
 his desires were of the most extravagant kind, 
 that there was no prospect of satisfaction for 
 them, and that the succours of reason entirely 
 failed, he resolved in his despair to rid himself of 
 life, and bring it gradually to a period, by neglect- 
 ing all care of his person, and abstaining from 
 food ; for this purpose he made sickness his pre- 
 tence. His physician, Erasistratus, easily dis- 
 covered that his distemper was love ; but it was 
 difficult to conjecture who was the object. In 
 order to find it out, he spent whole days m his 
 chamber ; and whenever any beautiful person of 
 either sex entered it, he observed with great 
 attention, not only his looks, but every part and 
 motion of the body which corresponds the most 
 with the passions of the soul. When others 
 entered he was entirely unaffected, but when 
 Stratonice came in, as she often did, either alone 
 or with Seleucus, he showed all the symptoms 
 described by Sappho, the faltering voice, the 
 burning blush, the languid eye, the sudden sweat, 
 the tumultuous pulse ; and at length, the passion 
 overcoming his spirits, a deliquium and mortal 
 paleness. 
 
 Erasistratus concluded from these tokens that 
 the prince was in love with Stratonice, and per- 
 ceived that he intended to carry the secret wuth 
 him to the grave. He saw the difficulty of break- 
 ing the matter to Seleucus ; yet he depending 
 upon the affection which the king had for his son, 
 he ventured one day to tell him, that the young 
 man’s disorder was love, but love for which there 
 was no remedy. The king, quite astonished, said. 
 
 How ! love for which there is no remedy ! " 
 “ It is certainly so,” answered Erasistratus, “ for 
 he is in love with my wife.” “What! Erasis- 
 tratus ! said the king, “ would you, who are my 
 friend, refuse to give up your wife to my son, 
 when you see us in danger of losing our only 
 hope?” “Nay, would you do such a thing,” 
 answered the physician, “ though you are his 
 father, if he were in love with Stratonice?” 
 “ O my friend,” replied Seleucus, “ how happy 
 should I be, if either God or man could remove 
 his affections thither ! I would give up my king- 
 dom, so I could but keep Antiochus.” lie pro- 
 nounced these words with so much emotion, and 
 such a profusion of tears, that Erasistratus took 
 him by the hand, and said, “Then there is no 
 n^d of Erasistratus. You, sir, who are a father, 
 a husband, and a king, will be the best physician, 
 too, for your family.” 
 
 Upon this, Seleucus summoned the people to 
 meet m full assembly, and told them, it was his 
 will and pleasure that Antiochus should inter- 
 marry with Stratonice, and that they should be 
 declared king and queen of the Upper Provinces. 
 He believed, he said, that Antiochus, who w^as 
 such an obedient son, would not oppose his desire ; 
 and if the princess should oppose the marriage, as 
 an unprecedented thing, he hoped his friends 
 would persuade her to think, that what was 
 agre^ble to the king, and advantageous to the 
 kingdom, was both just and honourable. Such is 
 said to have been the cause of the marriage be- 
 tween Antiochus and Stratonice. 
 
 Demetrius was now master of Macedonia and 
 Thessaly ; and as he had great part of Pelopon- 
 nesus too, and the cities of Megara and Athens on 
 the other side the Isthmus, he wanted to reduce 
 the Boeotians, and threatened them with hostilities. 
 At first they proposed to come to an accommoda- 
 tion with him on reasonable conditions ; but Cleo- 
 nymus, the Spartan, having thrown himself in the 
 mean time into Thebes with his army, the Boeotians 
 were so much elated, that, at the instigation of 
 Pisis the Thespian, who was a leading man among 
 them, they broke off the treaty, Demetrius then 
 drew up his machines to the walls, and laid siege 
 to Thebes ; upon which Cleonymus, apprehending 
 the consequence, stole out ; and the Thebans 
 were so much intimidated, that they immediately 
 suirendered. Demetrius placed garrisons in their 
 cities, exacted large contributions, and left Hiero- 
 nymus, the historian, governor of Boeotia. He 
 appeared, however, to make a merciful use of his 
 victory, particularly in the case of Pisis ; for 
 though he took him prisoner, he did not offer him 
 any injury : on the contrary, he treated him with 
 great civility and politeness, and appointed him 
 polemarch of Thespiae, 
 
 Not long after this, Lysimachus being taken 
 prisoner by Dromichsetes, Demetrius marched 
 towards *lhrace^ with all possible expedition, 
 hoping to find it in a defenceless state. But, 
 while he was gone, the Boeotians revolted again, 
 and he had the mortification to hear on the road, 
 that Lysimachus was set at liberty. He, there- 
 fore, immediately turned back in great anger; 
 and finding, on his return, that the Boeotians were 
 already driven out of the field by his son Antigo- 
 nus, he laid siege again to Thebes. However, as 
 Pyrrhus had overrun all Thessaly, and was ad- 
 vanced as far as Thermopylae, Demetrius left the 
 conduct of the siege to his son Antigonus, and 
 marched against the warrior. 
 
 Pyrrhus immediately retiring, Demetrius placed 
 a guard of 10,000 foot, and 1000 horse in Thessaly, 
 and then returned to the siege. His first opera- 
 tion was to bring up his machine called hele- 
 poles ; but he proceeded in it with great labour, 
 and by slow degrees, by reason of its size and 
 weight ; he could scarce move it two furlongs in 
 two months.* As the Boeotians made a vigorous 
 resistance, and Demetrius often obliged his men 
 to renew the assault, rather out of a spirit of ani- 
 mosity, than the hope of any advantage, young 
 Antigonus was greatly concerned at seeing such 
 numbers fall, and said, “Why, sir, do we let 
 these brave fellows lose their lives without any" 
 necessity?” Demetrius, offended at the liberty 
 he took, made answer, “Why do you trouble 
 yourself about it ? Have you any provisions to 
 find for the dead?” To show, however, that he 
 was not prodigal of the lives of his troops only, 
 he took his share in the danger, and received a 
 wound from a lance, that pierced through his 
 neck. This gave him excessive pain, yet he con- 
 tinued the siege till he once more made himself 
 master of Thebes. He entered the city with 
 such an air of resentment and severity, that the 
 inhabitants expected to suffer the most dreadful 
 punishments ; yet he contented himself with 
 putting thirteen of them to death, and banishing 
 
 • A wonderful kind of motion this for a machine 
 that ran upon wheels ! about twelve inches in an 
 hour ! 
 
a few more. All the rest he pardoned. Thus 
 Thebes was taken twice within ten years after its 
 being rebuilt. 
 
 The Pythian games now approached, and De- 
 metrius on this occasion took a very extraordi- 
 nary step. As the yEtolians were in possession of 
 the passes to Delphi, he ordered the games to be 
 solemnized at Athens ; alleging, that they could 
 not pay their homage to Apollo in a rnore proper 
 place than that where the people considered him 
 as their patron and progenitor. 
 
 From thence he returned to Macedonia ; but 
 as he was naturally indisposed for a life of quiet 
 and inaction, and observeu besides that the 
 Macedonians were attentive and obedient to him 
 in time of war, though turbulent and seditious in 
 peace, he undertook an expedition against the 
 .(Etolians. After he had ravaged the country, he 
 left Pantauchus there with a respectable army, 
 and with the rest of his forces marched against 
 Pyrrhus. Pyrrhus was coming to seek him ; but 
 as they happened to take different roads, and 
 missed each other, Demetrius laid waste Epirus, 
 and Pyrrhus falling upon Pantauchus, obliged 
 him to stand on his defence. The two generals 
 met in the action, and both gave and received 
 wounds. Pyrrhus, however, defeated his adver- 
 sary, killed great numbers of his men, and made 
 5000 prisoners. 
 
 This battle was the principal cause of Deme- 
 trius’s ruin ; for Pyrrhus was not so much hated 
 by the Macedonians for the mischief he had done 
 them, as admired for his personal bravery ; and 
 the late battle in particular gained him great 
 honour : insomuch, that many of the Mace- 
 donians said that of all the kings, it was in Pyr- 
 rhus only that they saw a lively image of Alex- 
 ander’s valour ; whereas, the other princes, 
 especially Demetrius, imitated him only in a 
 theatrical manner, by affecting a lofty port and 
 majestic air. 
 
 Indeed, Demetrius did always appear like a 
 theatrical king. For he not only affected a super- 
 fluity of ornament in wearing a double diadem, 
 and a robe of purple, interwoven with gold, but 
 he had his shoes made of cloth of gold, with soles 
 of fine purple. There was a robe a long time in 
 weaving for him, of most sumptuous magnifi- 
 cence. The figure of the world and all the 
 heavenly bodies were to be represented upon it : 
 but it was left unfinished, on account of his 
 change of fortune. Nor did any of his successors 
 ever presume to wear it, though Macedon had 
 many pompous kings after him. 
 
 This ostentation of dress offended a people who 
 were unaccustomed to such sights ; but his lux- 
 urious and dissolute manner of life was a rnore 
 obnoxious circumstance : and what disobliged 
 them most of all was his difficulty of access. For 
 he either refused to see those who applied to 
 him, or behaved to them in a harsh and haughty 
 manner. Though he favoured the^ Athenians 
 more than the rest of the Greeks, their ambassa- 
 dors waited two years at his court for an answer. 
 The Lacedaemonians happening to seiid only 
 one ambassador to him, he considered it as an 
 affront, and said in great anger, “What! have 
 the Lacedaemonians sent no more than one arn- 
 bassador ? ” “ No,” said the Spartan, acutely in 
 
 his laconic way, “ one ambassador to one king.” 
 
 One day, when he seemed to come out in a 
 more obliging temper, and to be something less 
 
 inaccessible, he was presented with several pe- 
 titions, all which he received, and put them in 
 the skirt of his robe. The people of course 
 followed him with great joy : but no sooner was 
 he come to the bridge over the Axhis than he 
 opened his robe, and shook them all into the 
 river. This stung the Macedonians to the heart ; 
 when, looking for the protection of a king, they 
 found the insolence of a tyrant. And this treat- 
 ment appeared the harder to such as had seen, or 
 heard fi*om those who had seen, how kind the 
 behaviour of Philip was on such occasions. An 
 old woman was one day very troublesome to him 
 in the street, and begged with great importunity 
 to be heard ; He said he was not at leisure. 
 “Then,” cried the old woman, “you should not 
 be a king.” The king was struck with these 
 words ; and having considered the thing a mo- 
 ment, he returned to his palace ; where, post- 
 poning all other affairs, he gave audience for 
 several days to all who chose to apply to him, 
 beginning with the old woman. Indeed, nothing 
 becomes a king so much as the distribution of 
 justice. For “ Mars is a tyrant,” as Timotheus 
 expresses it ; but “ Justice,” according to Pindar, 
 “is the rightful sovereign of the world.” The 
 things, which Homer tells us, kings receive from 
 Jove, are not machines for taking towns, or ships 
 with brazen beaks, but law and justice :* these they 
 are to guard and cultivate. And it is not the 
 most warlike, the most violent and sanguinary, 
 but the justest of princes whom he calls the 
 disciple of Jupiter, t But Demetrius was pleased 
 with an appellation quite opposite to that which 
 is given the king of the gods. For Jupiter is 
 called Policus and Polhtchus, the_ patron and 
 guardian of cities; Demetrius is surnamed 
 Poliorcetes, the destroyer oj cities. Thus, in con- 
 sequence of the union of power and folly, vice is 
 substituted in the place of virtue, and the ideas 
 of glory and injustice are united too. 
 
 When Demetrius laid dangerously ill at Pella, 
 he was very near losing Macedonia ; for Pyrrhus, 
 by a sudden inroad, penetrated as far as Edessa : 
 but as soon as he recovered, he repulsed him 
 with ease, and afterwards^ he came to_ terms with 
 him ; for he was not willing to be hindered, by 
 skirmishing for posts with Pyrrhus, from _ the 
 pursuit of greater and more arduous enterprises. 
 His scheme was to recover all his father’s do- 
 minions ; and his preparations were suitable to 
 the greatness of the object. For he had raised 
 an army of 98,000 foot, and near 12,000 horse ; 
 and he was building 500 galleys in the ports of 
 Piraeus, Corinth, Chalcis, and Pella. He went 
 himself to all these places, to give directions to 
 the workmen, and assist in the construction. All 
 the world was surprised, not only at the number, 
 but at the greatness of his works. For no man 
 before his time, ever saw a galley of fifteen or 
 sixteen banks of oars. Afterwards, indeed, 
 Ptolemy Philopater built one of forty banks ; its 
 length was 280 cubits, and its height to the top 
 of the prow 48 cubits. Four hundred mariners 
 belonged to it, exclusive of the rowers, who were 
 no fewer than 4000 ; and the decks and^ the 
 several interstices were capable of containing 
 near 3000 soldiers. This, however, was mere 
 matter of curiosity; for it differed very little 
 from an immovable building, and was calculated 
 
 * II. 1. i. 23T. t Od. xix. 178. 
 
DEMETRIUS. 
 
 621 
 
 more for show than for use, as it could not be put 
 in motion without great difficulty and danger. 
 But the ships of Demetrius had their use as well 
 as beauty; with all their magnificence of con- 
 struction, they were equally fit for fighting ; and 
 though they were admirable for their size, they 
 lyere still more so for the swiftness of their mo- 
 tion. 
 
 Demetrius having provided such an armament 
 for the invasion of Asia as no man ever had 
 before him, except Alexander the Great; Se- 
 leucus, Ptolemy, and Lysimachus, united against 
 him. They likewise joined in an application to 
 Pyrrhus, desiring him to fall upon Macedonia ; 
 and not to look to himself as bound by the treaty 
 with Demetrius, since that prince had entered 
 into it, not with any regard to the advantage of 
 Pyrrhus, or in order to avoid future hostilities, 
 but merely for his own sake, that he might at 
 present be at liberty to turn his arms against 
 whom he pleased. As Pyrrhus accepted the pro- 
 posal, Demetrius, while he was preparing for his 
 voyage, found himself surrounded with war at 
 home. For, at one instant of time, Ptolemy 
 came with a great fleet to draw Greece off from 
 its present master ; Lysimachus invaded Mace- 
 donia from Thrace ; and Pyrrhus entering it 
 from a nearer quarter, joined in ravaging the 
 country. Demetrius, on this occasion, left his 
 son in Greece, and went himself to the relief of 
 Macedonia. _ His first operations were intended 
 against Lysimachus, but as he was upon his 
 march he received an account that Pyrrhus had 
 taken Beroea ; and the news soon spreading 
 among his Macedonians, he could do nothing 
 in an orderly manner : for nothing was to be 
 found in the whole army but lamentations, tears, 
 and expressions of resentment and reproach 
 against their king. They were even ready to 
 march off, under pretence of attending to their 
 domestic affairs, but in fact to join Lysimachus. 
 
 In this case Demetrius thought proper to get 
 at the greatest distance he could from Lysima- 
 chus, and turn his arms against Pyrrhus. Lysi- 
 machus was of their own nation, and many of 
 them knew him in the service of Alexander ; 
 whereas Pyrrhus was an entire stranger, and 
 therefore he thought the Macedonians would 
 never give him the preference. But he was 
 sadly mistaken in his conjecture ; and he soon 
 found it upon encamping near Pyrrhus. The 
 Macedonians always admired his distinguished 
 valour, and had of old been accustomed to think 
 the best man in the field the most worthy of a 
 crown. Besides, they received daily accounts 
 of the clemency with which he behaved to his 
 prisoners. Indeed, they were inclined to desert 
 to him or any other, so they could but get rid 
 of Demetrius. ^ They therefore began to go off 
 privately, and in small parties at first, but after- 
 wards there was nothing but open disorder and 
 mutiny in the camp. At last some of them had 
 the assurance to go to Demetrius, and bid him 
 provide for himself by flight, for the Macedonians 
 (they told him) were tired of fighting to maintain 
 ms luxury. These expressions appeared modest 
 m comparison of the rude behaviour of others. 
 He therefore entered his tent not like a real king, 
 but a theatrical one, and having quitted his royal 
 robe for a black one, privately withdrew. As 
 multitudes were pillaging his tent, who not only 
 tore It in pieces, but fought for the plunder. 
 
 Pyrrhus _ made his appearance ; upon which, the 
 tumult instantly ceased, and the whole army 
 submitted to him. Lysimachus and he then 
 divided Macedonia between them, which De- 
 metrius had held without disturbance for seven 
 years. 
 
 Demetrius, thus fallen from the pinnacle of 
 power, fled to Cassandria, where his wife Phila 
 was. ^ Nothing could equal her sorrow on this 
 occasion. She could not bear to see the unfortu- 
 nate Demetrius once more a private man and an 
 exile ! in her despair, therefore, and detestation 
 of Fortune, who was always more constant to him 
 in her visits of adversity than prosperity, she 
 took poison. 
 
 Demetrius,^ however, resolved to gather up the 
 remains of his wreck ; for which purpose he re- 
 paired to Greece, and collected such of his friends 
 and officers as he found there. Menelaus, in one 
 of the tragedies of Sophocles, gives this picture 
 of his own fortune — 
 
 I move on Fortune’s rapid wheel : my lot 
 For ever changing like the changeful moon. 
 
 That each night varies ; hardly now perceived ; 
 And now she shows her bright horn ; by degrees 
 She fills her orb with light ; but when she reigns 
 In all her pride, she then begins once more 
 To waste her glories, till dissolved and lost. 
 
 She sinks again to darkness. 
 
 But this picture is more applicable to Demetrius, 
 in his increase and wane, his splendour and ob- 
 scurity. _ His glory seemed now entirely eclipsed 
 and extinguished, and yet it broke out again, 
 and shone with new splendour. Fresh forces 
 came in, and gradually filled up the measure 
 of his hopes. This was the first time he addressed 
 the cities as a private man, and without any of 
 the ensigns of royalty. Somebody seeing him at 
 Thebes in this condition, applied to him, with 
 propriety enough, those verses of Euripides— 
 
 To Dirce’s fountain, and Ismenus’ shore 
 
 In mortal form he moves a God no more. 
 
 When he had got into the high road of hope 
 again, and had once more a respectable force 
 and form of royalty about him, he restored the 
 Thebans their ancient government and laws. At 
 the same time the Athenians abandoned his 
 interests, and rasing out of their registers the 
 name of Diphilus, who was then priest of the 
 gods’ protectors, ordered archons to be appointed 
 again, according to ancient custom. They like- 
 wise sent for Pyrrhus from Macedonia, because 
 they saw Demetrius grown stronger than they 
 ppected ; Demetrius, greatly enraged, marched 
 immediately to attack them, and laid strong siege 
 to the city. But Crates the philosopher, a man 
 of great reputation and authority, being sent out 
 to him by the people, partly by his entreaties for 
 the Athenians, and partly by representing to him 
 that his interest laid another way, prevailed on 
 Demetrius to raise the siege. After this, he 
 collected all his ships, embarked his army, which 
 consisted of_ 11,000 foot, beside cavahy, and 
 sailed to Asia, in hopes of drawing Caria and 
 Lydia over from Lysimachus. Eurydice, the 
 sister of Phila, received him at Miletus, having 
 brought with her Ptolemais, a daughter she had 
 by Ptolemy, who had formerly been promised 
 him upon the application of Seleucus. Demetrius 
 married her with the free consent of Eurydice, 
 
622 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 and soon after attempted the cities in that quarter ; 
 many of them opened their gates to him, and 
 many others he took by force. Among the latter 
 was Sardis. Some of the officers of Lysimachus 
 likewise deserted to him, and brought sufficient 
 appointments of money and troops with them. 
 But, as Agathocles the son of Lysimachus came 
 against him with a great army, he marched to 
 Phrygia, with an intention to seize Armenia, and 
 then to try Media and the Upper Provinces, 
 which might afford him many places of retreat 
 upon occasion. Agathocles followed him close, 
 and as he found Demetrius superior in all the 
 skirmishes that he ventured upon, he betook him- 
 self to cutting off his convoys. This distressed 
 him not a little ; and, what was another disagree- 
 able circumstance, his soldiers suspected that he 
 designed to lead them into Armenia and Media. 
 
 The famine increased every day ; and by mis- 
 taking the fords of the river Lycus he had a great 
 number of men swept away with the stream. Yet, 
 amidst all their distress, his troops were capable 
 of jesting. One of them wrote upon the door of 
 his tent the beginning of the tragedy of CEdipus 
 with a small alteration : 
 
 Thou offspring of the blind old king Antigonus, 
 Where dost thou lead us ? 
 
 Pestilence at last followed the famine, as it 
 commonly happens when people are under a 
 necessity of eating anything, however unwhole- 
 some, so that finding he had lost in all not less 
 than 8000 men, he turned back with the rest. 
 When he came down to Tarsus, he was desirous 
 of sparing the country, because it belonged to 
 Seleucus, and he did not think proper to give 
 him any pretence to declare against him. But 
 perceiving that it was impossible for his troops to 
 avoid taking something, when they were reduced 
 to such extremities, and that Agathocles had 
 fortified the passes of Mount Taurus, he wrote a 
 letter to Seleucus containing a long and moving 
 detail of his misfortune, and concluding with 
 strong entreaties that he would take compassion 
 on a prince who was allied to him, and^ whose 
 sufferings were such as even an enemy might be 
 affected with. 
 
 Seleucus was touched with pity, and sent orders 
 to his lieutenants in those parts to supply De- 
 metrius with everything suitable to the state of 
 a king, and his army with sufficient provisions. 
 But Patrocles, who was a man of understanding, 
 and a faithful friend to Seleucus, went to that 
 prince and represented to him, that the expense 
 of furnishing the troops of Demetrius with pro- 
 visions was a thing of small importance, in corn- 
 parison of suffering Demetrius himself to remain 
 in the country, who was always^ one of the most 
 violent and enterprising princes in the world, and 
 now was in such desperate circumstances as might 
 put even those of the mildest dispositions on bold 
 and unjust attempts. 
 
 Upon these representations Seleucus marched 
 into Cilicia with a great army. Demetrius, 
 astonished and terrified at the sudden change of 
 Seleucus, withdrew to the strongest posts he 
 could find upon Mount Taurus, and sent a 
 message to him, begging that he might be suffered 
 to make a conquest of some free nations of bar- 
 barians, and by settling amongst them as their 
 king, put a period to his wanderings. If this 
 could not be granted, he hoped Seleucus would 
 
 at least permit him to winter in that country, and 
 not, by driving him out naked and in want of 
 everything, expose him in that condition to his 
 enemies. 
 
 All these proposals having a suspicious appear- 
 ance to Seleucus, he made answer, that he might, 
 if he pleased, spend two months of the winter in 
 Cataonia, if he sent him his principal friends as 
 hostages. But at the same time he secured the 
 passes into Syria. Demetrius, thus surrounded 
 like a wild beast in the toils, was under a necessity 
 of having recour.se to violence. He therefore 
 ravaged the country, and had the advantage of 
 Seleucus whenever he attacked him. Seleucus 
 once beset him with his armed chariots, and yet 
 he broke through them, and put his enemy to the 
 rout. After this he di.slodged the corps that was 
 to defend the heights on the side of Syria, and 
 made himself master of the passages. 
 
 Elevated with this success, and finding the 
 courage of his men restored, he prepared to fight 
 a decisive battle with Seleucus. That prince was 
 now in great perplexity. He had rejected the 
 succours offered him by Lysimachus, for want of 
 confidence in his honour, and from an appre- 
 hension of his designs ; and he was loath to try 
 his strength with Demetrius, because he dreaded 
 his desperate courage, as well as his usual change 
 of fortune, which often raised him from great 
 misery to the summit of power. In the mean 
 time Demetrius was seized with a fit of sickness, 
 which greatly impaired his personal vigour, and 
 entirely ruined his affairs: for part of his men 
 went over to the enemy, and part left their colours 
 and dispersed. In forty days he recovered with 
 great difficulty ; and, getting under march with 
 the remains of his army, made a feint of moving 
 towards Cilicia. But afterwards in the night he 
 decamped without sound of trumpet, and taking 
 the contrary way, crossed Mount Amanus, and 
 ravaged the country on the other side as far as 
 Cyrrhestica. 
 
 Seleucus followed, and encamped very_ near 
 him. Demetrius then put his army in motion in 
 the night, in hopes of surprising him. Seleucus 
 was retired to rest ; and in all probability his 
 enemy would have succeeded, had not some 
 deserters informed him of his danger, just time 
 enough for him to put himself in a posture of 
 defence. Upon this he started up in great con- 
 sternation, and ordered the trumpets to sound an 
 alarm ; and as he put on his sandals, he said to 
 his friends, “What a terrible wild beast are we 
 engaged with ! ” Demetrius perceiving by the 
 tumult in the enemy’s camp that his scheme was 
 discovered, retired as fast as possible. 
 
 At break of day Seleucus offered him battle, 
 when Demetrius ordering one of his officers to 
 take care of one wing, put himself at the head of 
 the other, and made some impression upon the 
 enemy. Meantime Seleucus quitting his horse, 
 and laying aside his helmet, presented himself to 
 Demetrius’s hired troops with only his buckler m 
 his hand, exhorting them to come over to him, 
 and to be convinced at last that it was to spare 
 them, not Demetrius, that he had been so long 
 about the war. Upon which they all saluted him 
 king, and ranged themselves under his banner. 
 
 Demetrius, though of all the changes he had 
 experienced, he thought this the most terrible, 
 yet imagining that he might extricate himself 
 from this distress as well as the rest, fled to the 
 
passes of Mount Amanus, and gaining a thick 
 wood, waited there for the night, with a few 
 friends and attendants who followed his fortune. 
 His intention was, if possible, to take the way to 
 Caunus, where he hoped to find his fleet, and 
 from thence to make his escape by sea ; but 
 knowing he had not provisions even for that day 
 he sought for some other expedient. Afterwards 
 one of his friends, named Sosigenes, arrived with 
 400 pieces of gold in his purse ; with the assist- 
 ance of which money they hoped to reach the sea 
 Accordingly vvhen night came, they attempted to 
 pass the heights ; but finding a number of fires 
 lighted there by the enemy, they despaired of 
 succeeding that way; and returned to their 
 lormer retreat, but neither with their whole com- 
 pany (lor some had gone off), nor with- the same 
 spirits. One of them venturing to tell him, that 
 he thought it was best for him to surrender him- 
 selt to Seleucus, Demetrius drew his sword to 
 kill himself; but his friends interposed, and con- 
 soling him in the best manner they could, per- 
 suaded him to follow his advice : in consequence 
 of which he sent to Seleucus, and yielded himself 
 to his discretion. 
 
 , .Upon this news, Seleucus said to those about 
 him. It is not the good fortune of Demetrius, 
 but mine, that now saves him ; and that adds to 
 other favours, this opportunity of testifying my 
 u the officers^ of his 
 
 household, he ordered them to pitch a royal tent 
 and to provide everything else for his reception 
 and entertainment in the most magnificent manner. 
 As there happened to be in the service of Seleucus 
 ^e Apollomdes, who was an old acquaintance of 
 immediately sent that person to 
 th ease, and come 
 
 a friend confidence, as to a son-in-law and 
 
 disposition 
 
 of Seleucus towards him, at a first view, and 
 afterwards, a grea t number of the courtiers waited 
 
 the most respect ; for it was expected that his 
 interest with Seleucus would soon be the best in 
 the kingdom. But these compliments turned the 
 compassion vvhich his distress had excited into 
 gave occasion to the envious and 
 malevolent to divert the stream of the king’s 
 humanity from him, by alarming him with appre- 
 hensions of no insensible change, but of the 
 
 to Demetrius with 
 St others who followed to 
 
 ^^ought extraordinary accounts 
 
 ^1°^ to the number o"f 
 
 surrounded him, and drove away 
 AfSr inclined to favour his cause 
 
 After he had thus seized his person instead of 
 conducting him to the presenct of Sdeucuf he 
 
 DEMEl'RIUS. 
 
 623 
 
 walks worthy of a king ; his parks were well 
 Stored with game ; and such of his friends as had 
 
 atttnTMm^"^ sT permitted to 
 
 often to the complaisance 
 
 PrtP ^ people with kind and 
 
 encouraging messages, intimating, that as soon 
 as Antiochus and ^tratonice should arrive, terms 
 
 obfa“ito^^^ 
 
 Demetrius wrote to his 
 CorirTh Athens and 
 
 writm^’nl h-“® his hand- 
 
 Lh ° i ‘f he were dead 
 
 and to keep the cities and all his remaining estates 
 for Antigonus, When the young prnfce 
 informed 01 his fathers connnem®enl he vS 
 extremely concerned at it ; he put on mourmn? 
 and wrote not only to the other kings, but S 
 beltucus nimself ; ofi^ering, on condition that his 
 father were set free, to cede all the possSons 
 Manv deliver himself up as a hostage, 
 
 bur/vs princes joined in the requeft ; 
 
 but Lysimachus was not of the number. On the 
 contrary, he offered Seleucus a large sum of 
 induce him to put Demetrius to death. 
 
 fight befoTi“° indifferent 
 
 i gut before, abhorred him as a villain for h's 
 
 chus and Stratonice, to make them the compii- 
 m^t of restoring Demetrius to his liberty. ^ 
 wifhTfftfpnP ’ supported his misfortune 
 
 w th r.t H learned to submit to it 
 
 with a still better grace. For some time he took 
 the exercises of hunting and running ; but he left 
 them by degrees, and sunk into mdolence and 
 inactivity. Afterwards he took to drnikiS and 
 
 dF&aJion^^Wr'Jh 
 
 aissipation Whether it was to put off thp 
 Present condition, which h- could 
 fn Jb and to drown reflection 
 
 in the bowl ; or whether he was sensible at 
 that this was the sort of life, Ihich thoueh 
 originally the object of his desires, he ’had idiv 
 
 ambition. Perhaps he considered that he had 
 given hnnseli and others infinite trouble, by seek- 
 mg with fleets and armies that happiness^which 
 he found, when he least expected it, fn ease 
 indulgence, and repose. For what ither Sd 
 does the wretched vanity of kings propose to 
 Itself in all their wars and dangers, but to quit the 
 paths of virtue and honour for those of luxury aud 
 ‘'’f consequence of their know- 
 pleasure and true enjoyment are. 
 
 Pbpr years’ confinement in the 
 
 Chersonesus, fell into a distemper occasioned by 
 excess, which carried him off at the 
 fif^ty-Pour. Seleucus was severely censured 
 ^"^^rned himself, for his 
 , ^^^PJl^\ons of Demetrius ; whereas he 
 should have followed the example of Dromichaetes 
 who though a Thracian and barbarian hid 
 ti^eated Lysimachus, when his prisoner, with all 
 became a king. 
 
 There was something of a theatrical pomp even 
 m the funeral of Demetrius. For Antigonus 
 
 LTef ‘"o Gr«c^‘ his SheFs 
 
 whole flee?- ann’fiT ‘hem with his 
 
 il. them near the Isles of 
 
 ‘he “‘n, which was of 
 solid gold on board the admira galley The 
 cities at which they touched sent croOi adorn 
 
PLUTARCH^ S lives:, 
 
 the urn, and persons in mourning to assist at the 
 ■ funeral solemnity. , ^ 
 
 When the fleet approached Corinth, the urn 
 was seen in a conspicuous position upon the stern 
 of the vessel, adorned with a purple robe and a 
 diadem, and attended by a company of young 
 men well armed. Xenophantus, a most cele- 
 brated performer on the flute, sat by the urn, ana 
 played a solemn air. The oars kept time with 
 the notes, and accompanied them with a melan- 
 choly sound, like that of mourners in a funeriU 
 procession, beating their breasts in concert with 
 the music. But it was the mournful appearance 
 and the tears of Antigonus that excited the 
 greatest compassion among the people as they 
 passed. After the Corinthians had besto\yed 
 crowns and all due honours upon the remains, 
 Antigonus carried them to Demetrias and de- 
 posited them there. This was a city called after 
 
 the deceased, which he had peopled from the 
 little towns about Jolcos. 
 
 Demetrius left behind him several children ; 
 Antigonus and Stratonice, whom he had by his 
 w'ife Phila ; two sons of the name of Demetrius ; 
 one surnamed 'The Slender^ by an Illyrian 
 woman ; the other was by Ptolemais, and came 
 to be king of C>Tene. By Deidamia he had 
 Alexander, who took up. his residence in Egypt ; 
 and by his last wife Eurydice he is said to have 
 had a son named Corrhaebus. His posterity 
 enjoyed the throne in continued succession down 
 to Perseus* the last king of Macedon, in whose 
 time the Romans subdued that country. Thus 
 having gone through the Macedonian drama, it 
 is time that we bring the Roman upon the stage. 
 
 * About ii6 years. 
 
 ANTONY. 
 
 The grandfather of Mark Antony was Antony 
 the orator, who followed the faction of Sylla, and 
 was put to death by Marius.t His father was 
 Antony, surnamed the Cretan, a man of no figure 
 or consequence in the political world, 4. but dis- 
 tinguished for his integrity, benevolence, and 
 liberality ; of which the following little circum- 
 stance is a sufficient proof. His fortune was not 
 large; and his wife, therefore, very prudently 
 laid some restraint on his munificent disposition. 
 An acquaintance of his, who was under some 
 pecuniary difficulties, applied to him for assist- 
 ance. Antony, having no money at command 
 .ordered his boy to bring him a silver basin full 
 of water, under a pretence of shaving. After the 
 boy was dismissed, he gave the basin to his friend, 
 and bade him make what use of it he thought 
 proper. The disappearance of the basin occa- 
 sioned no small commotion in the family; and 
 Antony finding his wife prepared to take a severe 
 account of the servants, begged her pardon, and 
 told her the truth. 
 
 His wife’s name was Julia ; she was of the 
 family of the Caesars, and a woman of distin- 
 guished merit and modesty. Under her auspices 
 ISIark Antony received his education ; when, 
 after the death of his father, she married Cor- 
 nelius Lentulus, whom Cicero put to death for 
 engaging in the conspiracy of Catiline, xms 
 was tfie origin of that lasting enmity '>^ich sub- 
 sisted between Cicero and Antony. The latter 
 affirmed, that his mother Julia was even obliged 
 to beg the body of Cicero’s wife for interment. 
 But this is not true ; for none of those_ who 
 suffered on the same occasion, under Cicero, 
 were refused this privilege. Antony was engag- 
 ing in his person, and was unlortunate enough 
 to fall into the good graces and Iriendship of 
 Curio, a man who was devoted to every species 
 of licentiousness, and who, to render Antony the 
 more dependent on him, led him into all the 
 
 excesses of indulging in wine and women, and 
 all the expenses that such indulgences me at- 
 tended with. Of course, he was soon deeply 
 involved in debt, and owed at least 250 talents, 
 while he was a very young man. Curio vvas 
 bound for the payment of this money ; and his 
 father being informed of it, banished Antony 
 from his house. Thus dismissed, he attached 
 himself to Clodius, that pestilent and audacious 
 tribune, who threw the state into such dreadful 
 disorder ; till weary of his mad measures, and 
 fearful of his opponents, he passed into Creece, 
 where he employed himself in military e.xercises, 
 and the study of eloquence. The Asiatic style § 
 was then much in vogue, and Antony fell .i^^^ur- 
 ally into it; for it was correspondent with his 
 manners, which were vain, pompous, insolent, 
 and assuming. , • 
 
 In Greece he received an invitation from 
 Gabinius the proconsul, to make a campaign 
 with him in Syria.il This invitation he refused 
 to accept, as a private man ; but being appointed 
 to the command of the cavalry, he attended him. 
 His first operation was against Anstobulus, who 
 had excited the Jews to revolt. He was the first 
 who scaled the wall ; and this he did m the 
 highest part. He drove Anstobulus from all 
 his forts : and afterwards, with a handful of men, 
 defeated his numerous army m a pitched battle. 
 Most of the enemy were slam, and Anstobulus 
 and his son were taken prisoners. Upon the 
 conclusion of this war, Gabinius was solicited by 
 Ptolemy to carry his arms into Egypt, and restore 
 him to his kingdom.H The reward of this service 
 was to be 10,000 talents. Most of the officers 
 
 t Valerius Maximus says, that Antony the 
 orator was put to death by the joint or^r of 
 Cinna and Marius. But Cicero mentions Cinna 
 as the immediate cause. Cic. P hilip /. ^ 
 
 t Nevertheless, he conducted the war in Crete, 
 and from thence was called Cretensis, 
 
 § Cicero, in his Brutus, mentions two sorts of 
 style called the Astatic. U?ium sententiostmi et 
 arzuUcm, sejitentiis non tarn gravibus et sevens 
 Qtfam concinnis et venustis. A hud autem geuus 
 est non tarn sententiis freguentatum quam verbis 
 voluere, aique incitatum; quah nunc est Asia 
 tota nec Jlumine solum orationis, sed etiam 
 exornato et faceto genere verbonim. 
 
 11 Aulus Gabinius was consul m the year ot 
 Rome 695 ; and the year following he went into 
 Syria. 
 
 ^ Dion. 1 . xxxix. 
 
AJVTOJVK 
 
 disapproved of the expedition ; and Gabinius 
 himself did not readily enter into it, though the 
 money pleaded strongly in his behalf. Antony 
 however, ambitious of great enterprises, and vain 
 
 0 gratif^ng a suppliant king, used every means 
 to draw Gabinius into the service, and prevailed. 
 It was the general opinion, that the march to 
 
 1 elusiuin was more dangerous than the war that 
 was to follow. For they were to pass over a 
 sandy and un watered country, by the filthy 
 marsh of Serbonis, v/hose stagnant ooze the 
 ^gyptians call the exhalations of Typhon • 
 though It is probably no more than the drainin^^s 
 
 separated from 
 
 the Mediterranean only by a small neck of land. 
 
 Antony being ordered thither with the cavalry 
 not only seized the straits, but took the large city 
 of 1 elusium, and made the garrison prisoners. 
 ijy this operation he at once opened a secure 
 passage for the army, and a fair prospect of 
 victory for their general. The same love of 
 glory which was so serviceable to his own party 
 was, on this occasion, advantageous to the 
 enemy. For when Ptolemy entered Pelusium 
 in the rage of revenge, he would have put the 
 citizens to death, but Antony resolutely opposed 
 It, and prevented him from executing his horrid 
 purpose. In the several actions where he was 
 concerned, he gave distinguished proofs of his 
 conduct and valour, but especially in that man- 
 ffiuvre where, by wheeling about and attacking 
 the enemy m the rear, he enabled those who 
 charged in front to gam a complete victory. 
 tor this action he received suitable honours and 
 rewards. 
 
 His humane care of the body of Archelaus, 
 who fell m the battle, was taken notice of even 
 by the common men. He had been his intimate 
 triend, and connected with him in the rights of 
 hospitality ; and though he was obliged, by his 
 duty to oppose him in the field, he no sooner 
 heard that he was fallen, than he ordered search 
 to be made for his body, and interred it with 
 .regal magnificence. This conduct made him 
 ^spected in Alexandria, and admired by the 
 Komans. 
 
 Antony had a noble dignity of countenance, a 
 graceful length of beard, a large forehead, an 
 aquiline nose; and, upon the whole, the same 
 manly aspect that we see in the pictures and 
 statues of Hercules. There was, indeed, an 
 ancient tradition, that his family was descended 
 from Hercules, by a son of his called Anteon; 
 and It was no wonder if Antony sought to con- 
 hrm this opinion, by affecting to resemble him 
 in his air and his dress. Thus, when he appeared 
 in public, he wore his vest girt on the hips, a 
 large sword, and over all a coarse mantle. That 
 kind of conduct which would seem disagreeable 
 to others rendered him the darling of the army. 
 
 We talked with the soldiers in their own swagger- 
 ing and nbald strain — ate and drank with them 
 m public, and would stand to take his victuals at 
 their common table. He was pleasant on the 
 subject of his amours, ready in assisting the 
 intrigues of others, and easy under the raillery 
 to which he was subjected by his own. His 
 liberality to the soldiers and to his friends was 
 the first foundation of his advancement, and 
 continued to support him in that power which he 
 was otherwise weakening by a thousand irregu- 
 larities. One instance of his liberality I must 
 
 fThich^h,. P ordered 250,000 drachmas 
 
 if Me r ^ lieaes) to be given to one 
 
 of his fnends ; his steward, who wa? startled a1 
 ° '^‘<1 ‘he silver in a 
 
 heap, that he might see it as he passed. He 
 saw It, and inquired what it was for ; “ It is the 
 sum answered the steward, “ that you ordered 
 for a present. Antony perceived his envious 
 design, and, to m^ortify him still more, said coolly 
 
 1 really thought the sum would have made a 
 it be doubled.”* 
 
 ifiis, however, was in the latter part of his life. 
 
 Kome wp divided into two parties. Pompey 
 was with the senate. The people were for bring- 
 ng C^sar with his army out of Gaul. CuriS, 
 the friend of Antony, who had changed sides, 
 and joined C^sar, brought Antony likewise over 
 to his interest. Ihe influence he had obtained 
 in profusion of money 
 
 m which he was supported by Caesar, enabled him 
 to make Antony tribune of the people, and after- 
 wards augur. Antony was no sooner in power than 
 Caesar found the advantage of his services. In 
 the hrst place he opposed the consul Marcellus 
 whose design was to give- Pompey the command 
 ot the old legions, and at the same time to 
 empower him to raise new ones. On this occa- 
 sion he obtained a decree, that the forces then 
 
 FMbifhJl ^ ^tid join 
 
 Pibulus in carrying on the war against the 
 f"arthians; and that none should give in their 
 names to serve under Pompey. On another 
 occasion when the senate would neither receive 
 Caesar s letters, nor suffer them to be read, he 
 read them by virtue of his tribunitial authority • 
 and the requests of Caesar appearing moderate 
 and reasonable, by this means he got over many 
 to his interest. Two questions were at length 
 put in the senate ; one, whether Pompey should 
 dismiss his army; the other, whether C^sar 
 should give up his. There were but a few votes 
 for the former, a large majority for the latter. 
 
 ^ P“t the question, 
 
 whether both Caesar and Pompey should not 
 dismiss their armies. This motion was received 
 with great acclamations, and Antony was ap- 
 plauded, and desired to put it to the vote. This 
 being opposed by the consuls, the friends of 
 Caesar made other proposals, which seemed by 
 no means unreasonable. But they were over- 
 ruled by Cato,f and Antony commanded by 
 Centulus the consul to leave the house. He left 
 tfiem with bitter execrations ; and disguising 
 himself like _ a servant, accomp.mied only by 
 (Quintus Cassius, he hired a carriage, and went im- 
 mediately to Caesar. As soon as they arrived, they 
 exclaimed that nothing was conducted at Rome 
 according to order or law, that even the tribunes 
 were refused the privilege of speaking, and who- 
 ever would rise in defence of the rignt must be 
 expelled, and exposed to personal danger. 
 
 Caepr, upon this, marched his army into Italy 
 an^d hence it was observed by Cicero, in his 
 Philippics, that i^tony was no less the cause of 
 the civil war in Rome, than Helen had been of 
 
 The same story is told of Alexander 
 t Cicero asserts that Antony was the imme- 
 civil war; but if he could 
 have laid down his prejudice, he might have dis- 
 covered a more immediate cause in the impolitic 
 resentment of Cato. ^ ^ ^ 
 
626 
 
 PLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 the Trojan war.^' There is, however, but little 
 truth in this assertion. Csesar was not so much 
 a slave to the impulse of resentment as to miter 
 on so desperate a measure, if it had not been 
 premeditated. Nor would he have carried war 
 into the bowels of his country, merely because 
 he saw Antony and Cassius dying to mm in a 
 mean dress and a hired carriage. At the same 
 lime, these things might give some colour to the 
 commencement of these hostilities which had 
 been long determined. Caesar’s motive was the 
 same which had before driven Alexander and 
 Cyrus over the ruins of humankind, the insatiable 
 lust of empire, the frantic ambition of being the 
 first man upon earth, which he knew he could 
 not be while Pompey was yet alive. 
 
 As soon as he was arrived at Rome, and had 
 driven Pompey out of Italy, his first design was 
 to attack his legions in Spain, and having a fleet 
 in readiness, to go atterwards in pursuit of 
 Pompey himself, while, in the mean time, Rome 
 was lett to the government of Lepidus the praetor, 
 and Italy and the army to the command of 
 Antony the tribune. Antony, by the sociability 
 of his disposition, soon made himself agreeable 
 to the soldiers : for he ate and drank with them, 
 and made them presents to the utmost of his 
 ability. To others, his conduct was less ac- 
 ceptable. He was too indolent to attend to the 
 cause of the injured, too violent and too im- 
 patient when he was applied to on business, and 
 infamous for his adulteries. _ In short, though 
 there was nothing tyrannical in the government of 
 Csesar, it was rendered odious by the ill conduct 
 of his friends ; and as Antony had the greatest 
 share of the power, so he bore the greatest part 
 of the blame. Csesar, notwithstanding, on his 
 return from Spain, connived at his irregularities ; 
 and, indeed, in the military appointment he had 
 given him, he had not judged improperly; for 
 Antony was a brave, skilful, and active general. 
 
 Csesar embarked at Brundusium, sailed over 
 the Ionian sea with a small number of troops, 
 and sent back the fleet, with orders that Antony 
 and Gabinius should put the army on board, and 
 proceed as fast as possible to Macedonia. 
 Gabinius was afraid of the sea, fork was winter, 
 and the passage was dangerous. He therefore 
 marched his forces a long way round by land. 
 Antony, on the other hand, being apprehensive 
 that Csesar might be surrounded and overcome by 
 his enemies, beat off Libo, who lay at anchor in 
 the mouth of the haven of Brundusium. By 
 sending out several small vessels, he encompassed 
 Libo’s galleys separately, and obliged them to 
 retire. By this means he found an opportunity to 
 embark about 20,000 foot and 800 horse; and with 
 these he set sail. The enemy discovered and 
 made up to him ; but he escaped by favour of a 
 strong gale from the south, which made the sea 
 so rough, that the pursuers could not reach him. 
 The same wind, however, at first drove him upon 
 a rocky shore, on which the sea bore so hard that 
 there appeared no hope of escaping shipwreck 
 but after a little, it turned to the south-west, and, 
 blowing from land to the main sea, Antony sailed 
 in safety, with the satisfaction of seeing the 
 wrecks of the enemy’s fleet scattered along the 
 
 coast. The storm had driven their ships upon the 
 rocks and many of them went to pieces. Antony 
 made his advantage of this disaster ; for he took 
 several prisoners and a considerable booty. He 
 likewise made himself master of the town of 
 Lissus ; and, by the seasonable arrival of his 
 reinforcement, the affairs of Csesar wore a more 
 promising aspect. 
 
 Antony distinguished himself in every battle 
 
 nt was fought. Twice he stopped the army 
 
 * In the second Philippic. Ut Helena Tro- 
 jiiiiis, sic iste huic reipublicce causa belli I causa 
 pesiis atque exitii fuit. 
 
 that was lUUgUL. J. WIV.'- IIV- 
 
 in its flight, brought them back to the charge, 
 and gained the victory ; so that, in point of 
 military reputation, he was inferior only to Csesar. 
 What opinion Csesar had of his abilities appeared 
 in the last decisive battle at Pharsalia ; he led the 
 right wing himself, and gave the left to Antony, 
 as to the ablest of his officers. After this battle, 
 Csesar being appointed dictator, went in pursuit 
 of Pompey, and sent Antony to Rome in character 
 of general of the horse. This officer is next in 
 power to the dictator, and in his absence he 
 commands alone. For, after the election of a 
 dictator, all other magistrates, the tribunes only 
 excepted, are divested of their authority. 
 
 Dolabella, one of the tribunes, a young man 
 who was fond of innovations, proposed a law 
 for abolishing debts, and solicited his friend 
 Antony, who was ever ready to gratify the people, 
 to join him in this measure. On the other hand, 
 Asinius and Trebellius dissuaded him from it. 
 Antony happened, at this time to suspect a 
 criminal connection between Dolabella and his 
 wife, whom, on that account, he dismissed, 
 though she was his first cousin, and daughter to 
 Caius Antonius, who had been colleague with 
 Cicero. In consequence of this, he joined 
 Asinius and opposed Dolabella. The latter had 
 taken possession of the forum, with a design to 
 pass his law by force ; and Antony being ordered 
 by the senate to repel force with force, attacked 
 him, killed several of his men, and lost some of 
 his own. 
 
 By this action he forfeited the favour of the 
 people : but this was not the only thing tliat^ 
 rendered him obnoxious ; for men of sense and 
 virtue, as Cicero observes, could not but condemn 
 his nocturnal revels, his enormous extravagance, 
 his scandalous lewdness, his sleeping in the day, 
 his walks to carry off the qualms of debauchery, 
 and his entertainments on the marriages of 
 players and buffoons. It is said, that after 
 drinking all night at the wedding of Hippias the 
 player, he was summoned in the morning upon 
 business to the forum, when, through a little too 
 much repletion, he was unfortunate enough, in 
 the presence of the people, to return part of his 
 evening fare by the way it had entered ; and one of 
 his friends received it in his gown. Sergius the 
 player had the greatest interest with hirn ; and 
 Cytheris,* a lady of the same profession, had the 
 management of his heart. She attended him in 
 his excursions ; and her equipage was by rio means 
 inferior to his mother’s. The people were 
 offended at the pomp of his travelling plate, 
 which was more fit for the ornament of a triumph ; 
 at his erecting tents on the road by groves and 
 rivers, for the most luxurious dinners ; at his 
 chariots drawn by lions ; and at his lodging his . 
 ladies of pleasure and female musicians m the ‘ 
 houses of modest and sober people. This dissa- 
 
 ' Cic. Ep. ad A it. 1 . x. ep. 10. 
 
ANTONY, 
 
 tisfaction at the concJuct of Antony could not but 
 be increased by the comparative view of Caesar. 
 While the latter was supporting the fatigues of a 
 military life, the former was indulging himself in 
 all the dissipation of luxury ; and, by means of 
 his delegated power, insulting the citizens. 
 
 This conduct occasioned a variety of disturb- 
 ances in Rome, and gave the soldiers an oppor- 
 tunity to abuse and plunder the people. There- 
 ^re, when Caesar returned to Rome, he pardoned 
 Dolabella ; and being created consul the third 
 time, he took Lepidus, and not Antony, for his 
 colleague. Antony purchased Pompey’s house ; 
 but, when he was required to make the payment, 
 u- himself in very angry terms ; and 
 
 this he tells us was the reason why he would not 
 go with Caesar into Africa. His former services he 
 thought insufficiently repaid, Caesar, however, by 
 his disapprobation of Antony’s conduct, seems to 
 have thrown some restraint on his dissolute 
 manner of life. He now took it into his head to 
 inarry, and made choice of Fulvia, the widow of 
 the seditious Clodius, a woman by no means 
 adapted to domestic employments, nor even con- 
 tented with ruling her husband as a private man. 
 hulvias ambition was to govern those that 
 governed, and to command the leaders of armies. 
 It was to hulvia, therefore, that Cleopatra was 
 obliged for teaching Antony due submission to 
 female authority. He had gone through such a 
 course of discipline as made him perfectly 
 tr^table when he came into her hands. 
 
 He endeavoured, however, to amuse the violent 
 spirit of Fulvia by many whimsical and pleasant 
 follies. When Caesar, after his success in Spain, 
 was on his return to Rome, Antony, amongst 
 otners, went to meet him ; but a report pre- 
 vailing that Cssar was killed, and that the enemy 
 was marching into Italy, he returned immediately 
 to Rome, and, in the disguise of a slave, went to 
 his house by night, pretending that he had letters 
 ti'om Antony to Fulvia. He was introduced to 
 her with his head muffled up ; and, before she 
 received the letter, she asked, with impatience, if 
 Antony were well. He presented the letter to her 
 in silence ; and, while she was opening it, he 
 threw his arms around her neck and kissed her. 
 
 e rnention this as one instance out of many of 
 his pleasantries. 
 
 When Cmsar returned from Spain, most of the 
 principal citizens went some days’ journey to meet 
 him ; but Antony met with the most distinguished 
 reception, and had the honour to ride with Crnsar 
 in the same ^ariot. After them came Brutus 
 Albinus, and Octavius, the son of Cesar’s niece, 
 who was afterwards called Augustus Caesar, and 
 lor many yep was emperor of Rome. Caesar 
 being created consul for the fifth time, chose 
 ^uit his colleague ; but as he intended to 
 
 quit the consulship m favour of Dolabella, he 
 acquainted the. senate with his resolution. Antony 
 .opposed this measure, and 
 
 Doll! "''f reproaches. 
 
 Dolabella did not fail to return the abuse ; and 
 
 iTff indecent behaviour, put 
 
 ott the affair till another time. When it was 
 insisted that the omens 
 Thu<; against the measure.* 
 
 Ifius Casar was obliged to give up Dolabella, 
 
 ,627 
 
 who was not a little mortified by his disappoint- 
 ment. It appears, however, that Caesar had as 
 httle regard for Dolabella as he had for Antony : 
 tor when both were accu.sed of designs against 
 np, he said, contemptuously enough, “ It is not 
 fellows 1 am afraid of, but the pale 
 and the lean ; ” by which he meant Brutus and 
 Cassius, who afterwards put him to death. 
 Antony, without intending it, gave them a pre- 
 tence for that undertaking : When the Romans 
 were celebrating the Lupercalia, C^sar, in a 
 triumpp habit, sat on the rostrum to see the 
 race. On this occasion many of the young 
 nobility and the magistrac}’^, anointed with oil, 
 and having white thongs in*their hands, run about 
 and strike, as in sport, every one they meet : 
 Antony was of the nurnber, but regardless of the 
 ceremonies of the institution, he took a garland 
 ot laurel, and wreathing it in a diadem, run to 
 the rostrp, where, being lifted up by his com- 
 panions, he would have placed it on the head of 
 Caesp intimating, thereby, the conveyance of 
 Ppwer. Caesar, however, seemed to decline 
 the offer, and was therefore applauded by the 
 people. _ Antony persisted in his design ; and for 
 there was a contest between them, 
 wmp he that offered the diadem had the applause 
 oi his friends, and he that refused it, the acclama- 
 tiono of the^ multitude. Thus, what is singular 
 enougn, while the Romans endured everything 
 that regal power could impose, they dreaded the 
 name of king, as destructive of their liberty. 
 Caesar was much concerned at this transaction : 
 and, uncovering his neck, he offered his life to 
 any one that would take it. At length the diadem 
 was placed on one of his statues, but the tribunes 
 took It off ; * upon which the people followed 
 them home with great acclamations. Aft . rwards 
 however, Caesar showed that he resented this, by 
 turning those tribunes out of office. The enter- 
 prise ot Brutus and Cassius derived strength and 
 encouragement from these circumstances. To 
 the rest of their friends, whom they had selected 
 tor the purpose, they wanted to draw over 
 Antony. Trebonius only objected to him; he 
 mfornied them that in their journey to meet 
 Caesar, he had been generally wxth him ; that he 
 had sounded him on this business by hints, which 
 though cautious, were intelligible ; and that he 
 always expressed his disapprobation, though he 
 never betrayed the secret. Upon this it was 
 proposed, that Antony should fall at the same 
 time with Caesar ; but Brutus opposed it. An 
 action, undertaken in support of justice and the 
 laws, he very properly thought, should have 
 nothing unjust attending it. Oi Antony, however 
 they were afraid, both in respect of his personal 
 valour, and the influence of his office ; and it was 
 agreed, that when Cae.sar was in the house, and 
 they were on the point of executing their purpose, 
 Antony should be amused without by some pre- 
 tended discourse of business. 
 
 When, in consequence of these measures, 
 Caesar was slain, Antony absconded in the disguise 
 of a slave ; but after he found that the conspirators 
 
 augun* 0®'=® 
 
 Trib7ini plebis, Eptditis M aTcellus, ccesetius- 
 qne Flavus CO ^ 07ice fasciam detra/ii, kommemque 
 duct in vincula jussisseni, dolens seu paruni 
 prospere mo tarn regni mentionem, sive, ut 
 jerebcit^ ereptam sibi gloriam recusandi, tribunos 
 gravitcT ineTcpitos potestate Privcivit. Suet. 
 
\vere assembled in the Capitol, and had no further 
 designs of massacre, he invited them to come 
 down, and sent his son to them as a hostage. 
 That night Cassius supped with him, and Brutus 
 with Lepidus. The day following, he assembled 
 the senate, when he proposed that an act of 
 amnesty should be passed ; and that provides 
 should be assigned to Brutus and Cassius. i he 
 senate confirmed this, and, at the same time, 
 ratified the acts of Caesar. Thus Antony ac- 
 quitted himself in this difficult affair with the 
 highest reputation ; and, by saving Rome from a 
 civil war, he proved himself a very able and 
 valuable politician. §ut the intoxication of glory 
 drew him off from these wise and moderate 
 counsels ; and, from his influence with the people, 
 he felt that if Brutus were borne down, he should 
 be the first man in Rome. With this view, when 
 Caesar’s body was exposed in the forum, he 
 undertook the customary funeral oration ; and 
 when he found the people affected with his 
 encomiums on the deceased, he endeavoured still 
 more to excite their compassion, by all that ivas 
 pitiable or aggravating in the massacre. For this 
 purpose, in the close of his oration, he took the 
 robe from the dead body, and held it up to then^ 
 bloody as it w.:s, and pierced through with 
 weapons ; nor did he hesitate, at the same time, 
 to call the perpetrators of the deed, villains and 
 murderers. T. is had such an effect upon t^he 
 people that they immediately tore up the benches 
 and the tables in the forum, to make a pile for 
 the body. After they had duly discharged the 
 funeral rites, they snatched the burning brands 
 from the pile, and went to attack the houses of 
 the conspirators. 
 
 Brutus and his party now left the city, and 
 Caesar's friends joined Antony. Calphurnia, the 
 relict of Caesar, entrusted him with her treasure, 
 which amounted to 4000 talents. All Caesar s 
 papers, which contained a particular account of 
 his designs, were likewise delivered up to him. 
 Of these he made a very ingenious use ; for, by 
 inserting in them what names he thought proper , 
 he made some of his friends magistrates, and 
 others senators ; some he recalled from exile, and 
 others he dismissed from prison, on pretence mat 
 all these things were so ordered by Caesar. The 
 people that were thus favoured, the Romans 
 called Charomtes because, to support their 
 title, they had recourse to the registers of the 
 dead. The power of Antony, in short, was 
 absolute : he was consul himself, his brother Caius 
 was praetor, and his brother Lucius tribune of the 
 people. . , • 
 
 Such was the state of affairs when Octavius, 
 who was the son or Caesar’s niece, and appointed 
 his heir by will, arrived at Rome from Apollonm, 
 where he resided when his uncle was killed. He 
 fir.st visited Antony as the friend of his uncle, and 
 spoke to him concerning the money in his hands, 
 and the legacy of seventy-five drachmas left to 
 every Roman citizen. Antony paid little regard 
 to him at first ; and told him, it would be madness 
 for an inexperienced young man, without friends, 
 to take upon him so important an office as that of 
 being executor to Caesar. 
 
 Octavius, however, was not thus repulsed : he 
 
 * The slaves who were enfranchised by the last 
 will of their masters, were likewise called 
 i Charonites. 
 
 still insisted on the money ; and Antony, on the 
 other hand, did everything to mortify and affront 
 him. He opposed him in his application for the 
 tribuneship \ and when he made use of the golden 
 chair, which had been granted by the senate to 
 his uncle,* he threatened, that unless he desisted 
 to solicit the people, he would commit him to 
 prison. But when Octavius joined Cicero and 
 the rest of Antony’s enemies, and by their 
 means obtained an interest in the senate ; when 
 he continued to pay his court to the people, and 
 drew the veteran soldiers from their quarters, 
 Antony thought it was time to accornmodate ; 
 and for this purpose gave him a meeting in the 
 Capitol. ^ . 
 
 An accommodation took place, but it was soon 
 destroyed, for that night Antony dreamed that 
 his right hand was thunderstruck ; and, in^ a 
 few days after he was informed that Octavius 
 had a design on his life. The latter would have 
 justified himself, but was not believed ; so that, 
 of course, the breach became as wide as ever. 
 They now went immediately over Italy, and 
 endeavoured to be beforehand with each other, in 
 securing, by rewards and promises, the old troops 
 that were in different quarters, and such legions 
 as were still on foot. , , . ri 
 
 Cicero, who had then considerable influence in 
 the city, incensed the people against Antony, and 
 prevailed on the senate to declare him a public 
 enemy \ to send the rods and the rest of the prse- 
 torial ensigns to young Csesar, and to commission 
 Hirtius and Pansa, the consuls, to drive Antony 
 out of Italy. The two armies engaged near 
 Modena : and Caesar was present at the battle. 
 Both the consuls were slain ; but Antony was 
 defeated ; in his flight he was reduced to great 
 extremities, particularly by famine. Distress, 
 however, was to him a school of moral improve- 
 ment ; and Antony, in adversity, was almost a 
 man of virtue. Indeed it is common for men 
 under misfortunes to have a clear idea of their 
 duty ; but a change of conduct is not always the 
 consequence. On such occasions they too often 
 fall back into their former manners, through the 
 inactivity of reason, and infirmity of mind. But 
 Antony was even a pattern for his soldiers. From 
 all the varieties of luxurious living, he came with 
 readiness to drink a little stinking water, and to 
 feed on the wild fruits and roots of the desert. 
 Nay, it is said, that they ate the very bark of 
 the trees ; and that, in passing the Alps, they fed 
 on creatures that had never been accounted 
 human food. . _ . , , 
 
 Antony’s design was to join Lepidus, who 
 commanded the army on the other side of the 
 Alps ; and he had a reasonable prospect of ms 
 friendship, from the good offices he had done him 
 with Julius Csesar. When he came within _ a 
 small distance of him he encamped ; but receiv- 
 ing no encouragement, he resolved to hazard all 
 upon a single cast. His hair was uncombed, and 
 his beard, which he had not shaven since his 
 defeat, was long. In this forlorn figure, with a 
 mourning mantle thrown over him, he came to 
 the camp of Lepidus, and addressed himselt io 
 the soldiers. While some were affected with his 
 
 * The senate had decreed to Csesar the privi- 
 lege of using a golden chair, adorned '^hh a 
 crown of gold and precious stones, in all the 
 theatres. Dion. 1 . xliv. 
 
ANTON-y. 
 
 appearance, and others with his eloquence, 
 Lepidus, afraid of the consequence, ordered the 
 trumpets to sound, that he might no longer be 
 , heard. This, however, contributed to heighten 
 the pmpassion of the soldiers ; so that they sent 
 Lselius and Clodius in the dress of those ladies 
 who hired out their favours to the army, to assure 
 Antony, that if he had resolution enough to 
 attack the camp of Lepidus, he would meet with 
 many who were not only ready to receive him, 
 but, if he should desire it, to kill Lepidus. An- 
 tony would not suffer any violence to be offered 
 to Lepidus ; but the day following, at the head of 
 his troops, he crossed the river which lay be- 
 tween the two camps, and had the satisfaction 
 to see Lepidus’s soldiers all the while stretching 
 out their hands to him, and making way through 
 the entrenchments. 
 
 When he had possessed himself of the camp of 
 Lepidus, he treated him with great humanity. 
 He saluted hini by the name of father ; and 
 though, in reality, everything was in his own 
 power, he secured to him the title and the 
 honours of general. This conduct brought over 
 Munatms Plancus, who was at the head of a 
 considerable force at no great distance. Thus 
 Antony was once more very powerful, and re- 
 turned into Italy with seventeen entire legions of 
 foot, and 10,000 horse. Besides these, he left six 
 legions as a garrison in Gaul, under the command 
 of V arius, one of his convivial companions, whom 
 they called Cotylon.^ 
 
 Octavius, when he found that Cicero’s object 
 was to restore the liberties of the commonwealth, 
 soon abandoned him, and came to an accommo- 
 dation with Antony. They met, together with 
 Lepidus, in a small river island, f where the con- 
 ference lasted three days. The empire of the 
 world was divided amongst them like a paternal 
 inheritance ; and this they found no difficulty in 
 settling. But whom they should kill, and whom 
 they should spare, it was not so easj’- to adjust, 
 while each was for saving his respective friends, 
 and putting to death his enemies. At length 
 their resentment against the latter overcame their 
 kindness for the former. Octavius gave up 
 Cicero to Antony; and Antony sacrificed his 
 unde Lucius Caesar to Octavius ; while Lepidus 
 had the privilege of putting to death his own 
 brother Paulus. Though others say that Lepidus 
 gave up Paulus to them.J though they had re- 
 quired him to put him to death himself. I 
 believe there never was anything so atrocious, or 
 so execrably savage as this commerce of murder ; 
 for while a friend was given up for an enemv 
 received, the same action murdered at once the 
 friend and the enemy ; and the destruction of the 
 former was still more horrible, because it had not 
 even resentment for its apology. 
 
 When this confederacy had taken place, the 
 army desired it might be confirmed by some 
 alliance ; and Caesar, therefore, was to marry 
 Claudia, the daughter of Fulvia, Antony’s wife. 
 
 As soon as this was determined, they marked 
 
 629 
 
 From a half-pint bumper ; a Greek measure 
 so called. 
 
 I Rhine, not far from Bologna. 
 
 + The former English translator ought not to 
 have omitted this ; because it somewhat softens 
 at least tne character of Lepidus, who was cer- 
 tamly the least e.xecrable villain of the three. 
 
 down such as they intended to put to death : 
 me number of which amounted to 300. When 
 Cicero was slain, Antony ordered his head, and 
 the hand with which he wrote his Philippics to 
 be cut off; and when they were presented him, 
 he laughed, and exulted at the sight. After he 
 was satiated with looking upon them, he ordered 
 mera to be placed on the r^^sira in the /or7im. 
 hut this insult on the dead was, in fact, an abuse 
 of his ovvn good fortune, and of the power it had 
 placed in his hands.* When his uncle Lucius 
 Cmsar was pursued by his murderers, he fled for 
 refuge to his sister ; and when the pursuers had 
 broken into the house, and were forcing their 
 way into his chamber, she placed herself at the 
 door, and, stretching forth her hands, she cried, 
 £ f *^bt kill Lucius Caesar till you have 
 first killed me, the mother of your general.” By 
 this means she saved her brother. 
 
 This triumvirate was very odious to the Ro- 
 mans ; but Antony bore the greater blame ; for 
 he was not only older than Caesar, and more 
 powerful tnan Lepidus, but, when he was no 
 longer under difficulties, he fell back into the 
 former irregularities of his life. His abandoned 
 and dissolute manners were the more obnoxious 
 to the pe^le by his living in the house of Pom- 
 pey the Great, a man no less distinguished by 
 his temperance and modesty, than by the honour 
 of three triumphs. ^ They were mortified to see 
 tnese doors shut with insolence against ma°^is- 
 trates, generals, and ambassadors ; while they 
 w&VQ open to players, jugglers, and sottish syco- 
 imants, on whom he spent the greatest part of 
 those treasures he had amassed by rapine. In- 
 deed the triumvirate were by no means scrupTi- 
 lous about the manner in which they procured 
 their wealth. They seized and sold the estates 
 01 those who had been proscribed, and, by false 
 ^cusations, defrauded their widows and orphans. 
 They burdened the people with insupportable 
 impositions ; and being informed that large sums 
 of money, the property both of strangers and 
 citizens, were deposited in the hands of the 
 vestals, they took them away by violence. When 
 Csesar found that Antony’s covetousness was as 
 boundless as his prodigality, he demanded a 
 division of the treasure. The army, too, was 
 divided. Antony and Csesar went into Mace- 
 donia against Brutus and Cassius; and the 
 government of Rome was left to Lepidus 
 
 When they had encamped in sight of the 
 en^y, Antony opposite to Cassius, and Csesar 
 to Brutus, Csesar effected nothing extraordinary* 
 but Antony’s efforts were still successful. In the 
 first engagement Csesar was defeated by Brutus ; 
 his camp was taken ; and he narrowly escaped 
 by flight; though, in his Commentaries, he tells 
 us, that, on account of a dream that happened to 
 one of his friends, he had withdrawn before the 
 battle.f Cassius was defeated by Antony ; and 
 yet there are those, too, who say, that Antony 
 was not present at the battle, but only joined in 
 the pursuit afterwards. As Cassius knew nothin*^ 
 of the success of Brutus, he was killed at his own 
 
 * Were there any circumstance in Antony’s 
 fife that could be esteemed an instance of true 
 rnagnanimity, the total want of that virtue in 
 this case would prove that such a circumstance 
 was merely accidental, 
 i* See the Life of Brutus. 
 
630 
 
 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 earnest entreaty, by his freedman Pindarus. 
 Another battle was fought soon after, in which 
 Brutus was defeated ; and, in consequence of that 
 slew himself. Caesar happened, at that time, to 
 be sick, and the honour of this victory, likewise, 
 of course fell to Antony. As he stood over the 
 body of Brutus, he slightly reproached him for 
 the death of his brother Cams, whom, in revenge 
 for the death of Cicero, Brutus had slain in Mace- 
 donia. It appeared, however, that Antony did 
 not impute the death of Caius so much to Brutus 
 as to Hortensius ; for he ordered the latter to be 
 slain upon his brothers tomb. He threw his 
 purple robe over the body of Brutus, and ordered 
 one of his freedmen to do the honours of his 
 funeral. When he was afterwards informed, that 
 he had not burned the robe with the body, and 
 that he had retained part of the money which 
 was to be expended on the ceremony, he com- 
 manded him to be slain. After this victory, 
 Caesar was conveyed to Rome ; and it was ex- 
 pected that his distemper would put an end to 
 his life. Antony having traversed some of the 
 provinces of Asia for the purpose of raising 
 money, passed with a large army into Greece. 
 Contributions, indeed, were absolutely necessary, 
 when a gratuity of 5000 drachmas had been pro- 
 mised to every private man. 
 
 Antony’s behaviour was at first very acceptable 
 to the Grecians. He attended the disputes of 
 their logicians, their public diversions, and re- 
 ligious ceremonies. He was mild in the admini- 
 stration of justice, and affected to be called the 
 friend of Greece ; but particularly the friend of 
 Athens, to which he made considerable presents. 
 The Megarensians, vying with the Athenians in 
 exhibiting something curious, invited him to see 
 their senate-house ; and when they asked him 
 how he liked it, he told them it was little and 
 ruinous. He took the dimensions of the temple 
 of'Apollo Pythius, as if he had intended to repair 
 it ; and, indeed, he promised as much to the 
 senate. 
 
 But when, leaving Lucius Censorinusin Greece, 
 he once more passed into Asia ; when he had 
 enriched himself with the wealth of the country ; 
 when his house was the resort of obsequious 
 kings, and queens contended for his favour by 
 their beauty and munificence ; then, whilst Csesar 
 was harassed with seditions at Rome, Antony 
 once more gave up his soul to luxury, and fell 
 into all the dissipations of his former life. _ The 
 Anaxenores and the Zuthi, the harpers and pipers, 
 Metrodorus the dancer, the whole corps of the 
 Asiatic drama, who far outdid in buffoonery the 
 poor wretches of Italy ; these were the people 
 of the court, the folks that carried all before 
 them. In short, all was riot and disorder. And 
 Asia, in some measure, resembled the city men- 
 tioned by Sophocles,* that was at once filled 
 with the perfumes of sacrifices, songs, and groans. 
 
 When Antony entered Ephesus, the women in 
 the dress of Bacchanals, and men and boys 
 habited like Pan and the satyrs, marched before 
 him. Nothing was to be seen through the whole 
 city but ivy crowns, and spears wreathed with 
 ivy, harps, flutes, and pipes, while Antony was 
 hailed by the name of Bacchus — 
 
 Bacchus ! ever kind and free ! 
 
 * Sophocles, Qtd. Sc. i. 
 
 And such, indeed, he was to some ; but to 
 others he was savage and severe. He deprived 
 many noble families of their fortunes, and be- 
 stowed them on sycophants and parasites. Many 
 were represented to be dead, who were still living j 
 and commissions were given to his knaves for 
 seizing their estates. He gave his cook the estate 
 of a Magnesian citizen for dressing one supper to 
 his taste; but when he laid a double impost on 
 Asia, Hybrias, the agent for the people, told him, 
 with a pleasantry that was agreeable to his 
 humour, that, if he doubled the taxes, he ought 
 to double the seasons too, and supply the people 
 with two summers and two winters. He added, 
 at the same time, with a little more asperity, that, 
 as Asia had already raised 200,000 talents, if he 
 had not received it, he should demand it of those 
 who had ; “but,” said he, “if you received it, and 
 yet have it not, we are undone.” This touched 
 him sensibly ; for he was ignorant of many things 
 that were transacted under his authority ; not 
 that he was indolent, but unsuspecting. He had 
 a simplicity in his nature without much penetra- 
 tion. But when he found that faults bad been 
 committed, he expressed the greatest concern and 
 acknowledgment to the sufferers. He was pro- 
 digal in his rewards, and severe in his punish- 
 ments ; but the excess was rather in the former 
 than in the latter. The insulting raillery of his 
 conversation carried its remedy along with it ; for 
 he was perfectly liberal in allowing the retort, and 
 gave and took with the same good humour. TMs, 
 however, had a bad effect on his affairs. He 
 imagined that those who treated him \vith free- 
 dom in conversation would not be_ insincere m 
 business. He did not perceive that his sycophants 
 were artful in their freedom ; that they used it as 
 a kind of poignant sauce to prevent the satiety of 
 flattery ; and that, by taking these liberties with 
 him at table, they knew well, that when they 
 complied with his opinions in business, he would 
 not think it the effect of complaisance, but a con- 
 viction of his superior judgment.. 
 
 Such was the frail, the flexible Antony, when 
 the love of Cleopatra came in to the completion 
 of his ruin. This awakened every dormant vice, 
 inflamed every guilty passion, and totally ex- 
 tinguished the gleams of remaining virtue. It 
 began in this manner : when he first set out on 
 his expedition against the Parthians, ^ he sent 
 orders to Cleopatra to meet him in Cilicia, that 
 she might answer some accusations which had 
 been laid against her of assisting Cassius in the 
 war. Dellius, who went on this message, no 
 sooner observed the beauty and adoress of 
 Cleopatra, than he concluded that such a woman, 
 far from having anything to apprehend from the 
 resentment of Antony, would certainly have great 
 influence over him. He therefore paid his court 
 to the amiable Egyptian, and solicited her to go, 
 as Homer says, “in her best attire, into 
 Cilicia ; assuring her, that she had nothing to 
 fear from Antony, who was the most courtly 
 o-eneral in the world. Induced by his irmtation, 
 and in the confidence of that beauty which had 
 before touched the hearts of Cmsar and young 
 Pompey she entertained no doubt of the conquest 
 of Antony. ' When Csesar an d Pompey had her 
 
 * Horn. II. xiv. 1 . 162. It is thus that Juno 
 proposes to meet Jupiter, when she has a par- 
 ticular design of inspiring him with love. 
 
ANTONY. 
 
 favours, she was young and inexperienced ; but 
 she was to meet Antony at an age when beauty 
 i)i its full perfection, called in the maturity of the 
 understanding to its aid. Prepared, therefore, 
 with such treasures, ornamenrs, and presents, as 
 were suitable to the dignity and affluence of her 
 kingdom, but chiefly relying on her personal 
 charms, she set off for Cilicia. 
 
 1 hough she had received many pressing letters 
 of invitation from Antony and his friends, she held 
 him in such contempt that she by no means took 
 the most expeditious method of travelling. She 
 sailed along the river Cydnus in a most magnifi- 
 stern was covered with gold, 
 the sails were of pu^le, and the oars were silver. 
 Ihese, in their motion, kept time to the music of 
 flutes, and pipes, and harps. The queen in the 
 dress and character of Venus, lay under a canopy 
 embroidered with gold, of the most exquisite 
 workmanship ; while boys, like painted Cupids, 
 stood fanning her on each side of the sofa. Her 
 maids were of the most distinguished beauty, and, 
 habited like the Nereids and the Graces, assisted 
 m the steerage and conduct of the vessel. The 
 fragrance of burnirig incense was diffused along 
 the shore^ which were covered with multitudes of 
 people. Some followed the procession, and such 
 numbers went down from the city to see it, that 
 Antony was at la.st left alone on the tribunal, A 
 rumour was soon spread, that Venus was come to 
 least with Bacchus, for the benefit of Asia. An- 
 tony sent to invite her to supper : but she thought 
 it his duty to wait upon her, and to show his 
 politeness on her arrival, he complied. He was 
 astonished at the magnificence of the preparations • 
 but particularly at that multitude of lights, which 
 were raised or let down together, and disposed in 
 such a variety of square and circular figures, that 
 afforded one of the most pleasing spectacles 
 that has been recorded in history. The day 
 following Antony invited her to sup with him, and 
 was ambitious to outdo her in the elegance and 
 magnificence of the entertainment. But he was 
 soon convinced that he came short of her in both, 
 and was the first to ridicule the meanness and 
 vulgarity of his treat. As she found that Antony’s 
 humour favoured more of the camp than of the 
 court, she fell into the same coarse vein, and 
 played upon him without the least reserve. Such 
 was the variety of her powers in conversation : 
 her beauty, it is pid, was neither astonishing nor 
 inimitable ; but it derived a force from her wit, 
 and her fascinating manner, which was absolutely 
 irresistible. Her voice was delightfully melodious, 
 and had the same variety of modulation as an 
 instrument of many strings. She spoke most 
 languages ; and there were but few of the foreign 
 ambassaemrs whom she answered by an inter- 
 preter. She gave audience herself to the Ethio- 
 pians, the Iroglodites, the Hebrews, Arabs, 
 Syrians, Medes, and Parthians. Nor were these 
 all the languages she understood, though the 
 kings of Egypt, her predecessors, could hardly 
 ever attain to the Egyptian ; and some of them 
 forgot even their original Macedonian, 
 fi, » so wholly engrossed with her charms 
 
 tnat while his wife Fulvia was maintaining his 
 mterest at Rome against Caesar, and the Parthian 
 forces, assembled under the conduct of Labienus 
 m Mesopotamia, were ready to enter Syria, she 
 Thilf captive in triumph to Alexandria. 
 
 Ihere the veteran warrior fell into every idle 
 
 631 
 
 excess of puerile amusement, and offered at the 
 shrine of luxury, what Antipho calls the greatest 
 nf i sacrifice of time. This mode 
 
 They visited 
 
 fnSnn f alternately every day ; and the pro- 
 fusion of their entertainments is almost incredible. 
 J^hiiotas, a physician of Amphissa, who was at 
 that time pursuing his studies in Alexandria, told 
 my grandfather Lamprias, that, being acquainted 
 with one of Antony's cooks, he was invited to see the 
 preparations for supper. When he came into the 
 kitchen, beside an infinite variety of other pro- 
 visions, he observed eight wild boars roasting 
 whole ; and expressed his surprise at the number 
 ot the company for whom this enormous provision 
 ^3^ve been made. 'The cook laughed, and 
 said, that the company did not exceed twelve ; 
 but that, as every dish was to be roasted to a 
 single turn ; and as Antony was uncertain as to 
 the time when he would sup, particularly if an 
 extraordinary bottle, or an extraordinary vein of 
 conversation was going round, it was necessary to 
 hqve a succession of suppers. Philotas added, 
 that being afterwards in the sendee of Antony’s 
 eldest son by Fulvia, he was admitted to sup with 
 him, when he did not sup with his father ; and it 
 once happened that, when another physician at 
 table had tired the company with his noise and im- 
 pertinence he silenced him with the following so- 
 ph.sm: 1 here are .some degrees of a fever in which 
 
 cola water IS good for a man ; every man who has a 
 lever, has it in some degree ; and, therefore, cold 
 water is good for every man in a fever.” The 
 impertinent was struck dumb with this syllogism * 
 and Antony s son who laughed at his distress, to 
 
 reward Philotas for his good offices, pointing to a 
 magnificent sideboard of plate, said, “ All that 
 Philotas, is yours .' ” Philotas acknowledged thi 
 kind offer ; but thought it too much for such a 
 boy to give. And, afterwards, when a servant 
 brought the plate to him in a chest, that he might 
 put his seal upon it, he refused, and, indeed, was 
 "^hich the servant said, 
 hat are you afraid of? Do not you consider 
 that this is a present from the son of Antony who 
 could easily give you its weight in gold ? How- 
 ever, I would recommend it to you to take the 
 value of It in money. In this plate there may be 
 some curious pieces of ancient workmanship that 
 Antony may set a value on.” Such are the anec- 
 dotes which my grandfather told me he had from 
 Philotas. 
 
 Qeopatra was not limited to Plato’s four kinds 
 ?o-u infinite variety of it. 
 
 U hether Antony were in the gay, or the serious 
 humour, still she had something ready for his 
 amusement. She was wdth him night and day • 
 she gamed, she drank, she hunted, she reviewed 
 with him. In his night rambles, when he was 
 reconnoitring the doors and windows of the citi- 
 zens, and throwing out his jests upon them, she 
 attended him in the habit of a servant, which he 
 also, on such occasions, affected to wear. From 
 these expeditions he frequently returned a suf- 
 ferer both in person and character. But though 
 some of the Alexandrians where displeased with 
 his whimsical humour, others enjoyed it, and said 
 that Antony presented his comic parts in Alex- 
 andria, and reserved the tragic for Rome. To 
 mention all his follies would be too trifling ; but 
 
 * Plato, Gorgius. 
 
632 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 his fishing story must not be omitted. He was 
 fishing one day with Cleopatra, and had ill-success, 
 which, in the presence of his mistress, he looked 
 upon as a disgrace j he, therefore, ordered one of 
 the assistants to dive and put on his hook such as 
 had been taken before. This scheme he put m 
 practice three or four times, and Cleopatra per- 
 ceived it. She aff ected, however, to be surprised 
 at his success ; expressed her wonder to the people 
 about her ; and, the day following, invited them 
 to see fresh proofs of it. When the day following 
 came, the vessel was crowded with people ; and 
 as soon as Antony had let down his line, she 
 ordered one of her divers immediately to put a 
 salt fish on his hook. When Antony found he 
 had caught his fish, hedrew up his line ; and this, 
 as may be supposed, occasioned no small^^mirth 
 amongst the spectators. “ Go, general,” said 
 Cleopatra, “ leave fishing to us petty princes of 
 Pharus and Canopus ; your game is cities, king- 
 doms, and provinces,” ^ 
 
 In the midst of these scenes of festivity and 
 dissipation, Antony received two unfavourable 
 messages : one from Rome, that his wife F ul^ia, 
 and his brother Lucius, after long dissensions 
 between themselves, had joined to oppose Caesar, 
 but were overpowered, and obliged to fly out of 
 Italy. The other informed him, that Labienus 
 and the Parthians had reduced Asia, from Syria 
 and the Euphrates to Lydia and Ionia. It was 
 with difficulty that even this roused him from his 
 lethargy : but waking at length, and, literally, 
 waking from a fit of intoxication, he set out 
 against the Parthians, and proceeded as far as 
 Phoenicia. However, upon the receipt of some 
 very moving letters from Fulvia, he turned his 
 course towards Italy with 200 ships. Such of his 
 friends as had fled from thence, he received ; and 
 from these he learned, that Fulvia had^ been the 
 principal cause of the disturbances in Rome. 
 Her disposition had a natural tendency to violence 
 and discord ; and, on this occasion, it was abetted 
 by jealousy ; for she expected that the disorders 
 of Italy would call Antony from the arms of Cleo- 
 patra. That unhappy woman died at Sycion, in 
 her progress to meet her husband. 
 
 This event opened an opportunity for a recon- 
 ciliation with Csesar. For when Antony came to 
 Italy, and Csesar expressed no resentment against 
 him, but threw the whole blame on Fulvia ; their 
 respective friends interfered, and brought them to 
 an accommodation. The east, within the boun- 
 daries of the Ionian sea, was given to Antony ; 
 the western provinces to Csesar ; and Lepidus had 
 Africa. When they did not accept of the consul- 
 ship themselves, they were to dispose of it as they 
 thought proper, in their turns. 
 
 After these matters were settled, they thought 
 of means to secure this union which fortune had 
 set on foot. Caesar had a sister older than himself 
 named Octavia, but they had different mothers. 
 The mother of Octavia was Ancaria. Caesar’s 
 mother was Attia. He had a great affection for 
 this sister ; for she was a woman of extraordinary 
 merit. She had been already married to_ Caius 
 Marcellus ; but a little before this had buried her 
 
 husband ; and, as Antony had lost his wife, there 
 was an opening for a fresh union. His connection 
 with Cleopatra he did not affect to deny ; but he 
 absolutely denied that he was married to her ; 
 and, in this circumstance, indeed, his prudence 
 prevailed over his love. His marriage with Oc- 
 tavia was universally wished. It was the general 
 hope, that a woman of her beauty and dis- 
 tinguished virtues would acquire such an in- 
 fluence over Antony, as might, in the end, be 
 salutary to the state. Conditions being mutually 
 agreed upon, they proceeded to solemnize the 
 nuptials at Rome : and the law which permits no 
 widow to marry till the expiration of ten months 
 after the decease of her husband was dispensed 
 with by the senate. 
 
 Sextus, the son of Pompey, who was then in 
 possession of Sicily, had not only made great 
 ravages in Italy, but had covered the sea with 
 such a number of piratical vessels, under the 
 command of Menas and Menecrates, that it was 
 no longer safe for other ships to pass. He had 
 been favourable, notwithstanding, to Antony ; 
 for he had given a kind reception to his mother 
 and his wife Fulvia, when they were obliged to fly 
 from Rome. It was judged proper, therefore, to 
 accommodate matters with him ; and, for this 
 purpose, a meeting was held at the promontory of 
 Misenum by the mole that runs into the sea. 
 Pompey was attended by his fleet Antony and 
 Csesar by an army of foot. At this interview it 
 was settled, that Pompey should keep Sicily and 
 Sardinia, on condition that he should clear the sea 
 of pirates, and send a certain quantity of corn to 
 Rome. When these things were determined, 
 they mutually invited each other to supper ; but 
 it. fell to the lot of Pompey to give the first 
 entertainment. When Antony asked him where 
 they should sup ; “There, ” said he, pointing to 
 the admiral-galley of six oars, “ that is the only 
 patrimonial mansion-house that is left to Pom- 
 pey ; ” and it implied, at the same time, a sar- 
 casm on Antony, who was then in possession of 
 his father’s house. However, he entertained 
 them very politely, after conducting them over a 
 bridge from the promontory to the ship that rode 
 at anchor. During the entertainment, while the 
 raillery ran briskly on Antony and. Cleopatra, 
 Menas came to Pompey, and told him secretly, 
 that, if he would permit him to cut the cable, he 
 would not only make him master of Sicily and 
 Sardinia, but of the whole Roman empire. Pom- 
 pey, after a moment’s deliberation, answered, that 
 he should have done it without consulting him. 
 “We must now let it alone,” said he, “for I 
 cannot break my oath of treaty.” The compli- 
 ment of the entertainment was returned by his 
 guests, and he then retired to Sicily. 
 
 Antony, after the accommodation, sent Venti- 
 dius into Asia, to stop the progress of the Par- 
 thians. All matters of public administration 
 were conducted with the greatest harrnony be- 
 tween him and Octavius ; and, in compliment to 
 the latter, he took upon himself the office of high- 
 priest to Csesar the dictator. But, alas ! in their 
 contests at play, Csesar was generally superior, 
 and Antony was mortified. He had in his house 
 a fortune-telling gipsy, who was skilled in the 
 calculation of nativities. This man, either to 
 oblige Cleopatra, or following the investigation 
 of truth, told Antony, that the star of his fortune, 
 however glorious in itself, was eclipsed and ob- 
 
 * This expression of Cleopatra’s has something 
 of the same turn with that passage in Virgil — 
 
 Excudent alii spirantia mollius aera ! 
 
 Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento. 
 
ANTONY. 
 
 633 
 
 scured by Caesar’s, and advised him, by all 
 means, to keep at the greatest distance from that 
 young man. ‘‘ The genius of your life, ” said he, 
 “ IS afraid of his : when it is alone, its port is erect 
 and fearless ; when his approaches, it is dejected 
 and depressed.” Indeed, there were many cir- 
 cumstances that seemed to justify the conjurer’s 
 doctrine : for in every kind of play, whether they 
 cast lots, or cast the die, Antony was still the 
 loser. In their cock-fights and quail-fights, it was 
 still Caesar s cock and Caesar’s quail. These 
 things, co-operating with the conjurer’s observa- 
 tions, had such an effect on Antony that he gave 
 up the management of his domestic affairs to 
 Caesar, and left Italy. Octavda, who had by this 
 time brought him a daughter, he took with him 
 into Greece. He wintered in Athens, and there 
 he learned that his affairs in Asia, under Venti- 
 dius, were successful ; that the Parthians were 
 routed, and that Labienus and Pharnapates, the 
 ablest generals of Orodes, fell in the battle. In 
 honour of this victory he gave an entertainment to 
 the Greeks, and treated the Athenians with an 
 exhibition of the gymnastic games, in which he 
 took the master’s part himself. The robes and 
 ensigns of the general^ were laid aside ; the rods, 
 the cloak, and the slippers of the Gymnasiarch 
 were assumed ; and when the combatants had 
 fought sufficiently, he parted them himself. 
 
 When he went to the war, he took with him a 
 crown of the sacred olive ; and, by the direction 
 of some oracle or other, a vessel of water filled out 
 of the Clepsydra.* In the mean time, Pacorus, 
 son of the king of Parthia, made an incursion 
 into Syria, but was routed by Ventidius in Cyr- 
 rhestica, and, with the greatest part of his army, 
 fell in the battle. This celebrated victory made 
 ample amends for the defeat of Crassus. The 
 Parthians had now been thrice conquered, and 
 were confined within the bounds of Media and 
 Mesopotamia. Ventidius would not pursue the 
 Parthians any farther, for fear of exciting the 
 envy of Antony ; he therefore, turned his arms 
 against the revolters, and brought them back to 
 their duty. Amongst these was Antiochus, the 
 king of Commagene, whom he besieged in the 
 city of Samosata. That prince, at first, offered to 
 pay 1000 talents, and to submit himself to the 
 Roman empire ; upon which Ventidius told 
 him, that he must send proposals to Antony ; for 
 he was then at no great distance ; and he had not 
 commissioned Ventidius to make peace with 
 Antiochus, that something at least might be done 
 by himself. But while the siege was thus pro- 
 longed, and the people of Samosata despaired of 
 obtaining terms, that despair produced a degree 
 of courage which defeated every effort of the 
 besiegers ; and Antony was at last reduced to the 
 disgraceful necessity of accepting 300 talents. 
 
 After he had done some little towards settling 
 the affairs of Syria, he returned to Athens, and 
 sent Ventidius to Rome, to enjoy the reward of 
 his merit in a triumph. He was the only general 
 that ever triumphed over the Parthians. His 
 birth was obscure, but his connections with 
 Antony brought him into great appointments; 
 and, by making the best use of them, he con- 
 firmed what was said of Antony and Octavius 
 
 * j Clepsydra was a fountain belonging to 
 the citadel at Athens ; so called, because it was 
 sometimes full of water, and sometimes empty. 
 
 Csesar, that they were more successful by their 
 heutenants, than when they commanded in person. 
 This observation, with regard to Antony in par- 
 Ucular, might be justified by the success of 
 bossius and Canidius. The former had done 
 peat things in Syria ; and the latter, whom he 
 left in Armenia, reduced the whole country ; and 
 after defeating the kings of Iberia and Albania' 
 penetrated as far as Mount Caucasus, and spread 
 the terror of Antony’s name and power through 
 those barbarous nations. 
 
 Soon after this, upon hearing some disagreeable 
 ^ports concerning the designs or the conduct of 
 Cssar, he sailed from Italy with a fleet of 300 
 ships ; and, being refused the harbour of Brun- 
 dusium, he made for Tarentum. There he was 
 pevailed on by his wife Octavia, who accompanied 
 mm, and was then pregnant a third time, to send 
 her to her brother ; and she was fortunate enough 
 p meet him on her journey, attended by his two 
 friends,^ Marcenas and Agrippa. In con.erence 
 with him, she entreated him to consider the 
 peculiarity of her situation, and not to make 
 me happiest woman in the w'orld the most un- 
 fortunate. “The eyes of all,” said she, “are 
 necessarily turned on me, v/ho am the wife of 
 Antony, and the sister of Csesar ; and should 
 these chips of the empire, misled by hasty 
 counsels, involve the whole in war, whatever 
 may be the event, it will be unhappy for me.” 
 Csesar was softened by the entreaties of his sister,’ 
 proceeded with peaceable views to Tarentum. 
 His prival afforded a general satisfaction to the 
 people. They were pleased to see such an army 
 sliore, and such, a fleet in the harbour, in 
 the mutual disposition for peace ; and nothing 
 but compliments and expressions of kindness 
 passing between the generals. Antony first in- 
 vited Caesar to sup with him, and, in compliment 
 to Octavia, he accepted the invitation. At length 
 It was agreed, that Caesar should give up to 
 Antony two legions for- the Parthian service; 
 and that Antony, in return, should leave 100 
 armed galleys with Caesar. Octavia, moreover, 
 engaged Antony to give up twenty light ships 
 to Caesar, and procured from her brother 1000 
 foot for her husband. Matters being thus accom- 
 modated, Caesar went to war with Pompey for 
 the recovery of Sicily ; and Antony, leaving under 
 his protection his wife and his children, both by 
 the present and the former marriage, sailed for 
 Asia, 
 
 Upon his approach to Syria, the love of Cleo- 
 patra, which had so long been dormant in his 
 heart, and which better counsels seemed totally 
 to have suppressed, revived again, and took 
 possession of his soul. The unruly steed, to 
 which Plato* compares certain passions, once 
 more broke loose, and in spite of honour, interest, 
 and prudence, Antony sent Fonteius Capito to 
 conduct Cleopatra into Syria. 
 
 Upon her arrival he made her the most mag- 
 nificent presents. He gave her the provinces 
 
 * Plutarch here alludes to that passage in 
 Plato, where he compares the soul to a winged 
 chariot, with two horses and a charioteer. One 
 of these horses is mi.schievous and unruly : the 
 other gentle and tractable. The charioteer is 
 Reason : the unruly horse denotes the concupis- 
 cent, and the tractable horse the irascible part 
 Plato, Pkced. 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 634 
 
 of Phoenicia, C^losyria, Cyprus, great part of 
 Cilicia, that district of Judsea which produces 
 the balm, and that part of Arabia Nabathea 
 which lies upon the ocean. These extravagant 
 gilts were disagreeable to the Romans : for, 
 though he had often conferred on private persons 
 considerable governments and kingdoms ; though 
 he had deprived many princes of their dominions, 
 and beheaded Antigonus of Judaea, the first king 
 that ever suffered in such a manner ; * yet nothing 
 so much disturbed the Romans as his enormous 
 profusion in favour of that woman. Nor were 
 they less offended at his giving the surnames of 
 the sun and moon to the twins he had by her. ^ 
 
 But Antony knew well how to give a fair 
 appearance to the most disreputable actions. The 
 greatness of the Roman empire, he said, appeared 
 more in giving than in receiving kingdoms ; and 
 that it was proper for persons of high birth and 
 station to extend and secure their nobility, by 
 leaving children and successors born of difterent 
 princes ; that his ancestor Hercules trusted not 
 to the fertility of one woman, as if he had feared 
 the penalties annexed to the law of Solon ; but, 
 by various connections with the sex, became the 
 founder of many families. 
 
 After Orodes was slain by his son Phraates,f 
 who took possession of the kingdom, many of the 
 Parthian chiefs fled to Antony ; and amongst 
 the rest, Monesus, a man of great dignity and 
 power. Antony thinking that Monesus, in his 
 fortune, resembled Themistocles, and comparing 
 his own wealth and magnificence to_ that of the 
 kings of Persia, gave him three cities, Larissa, 
 Arethusa, and Hierampolis, which was before 
 called Bombyce. But when Phraates sent Mone- 
 sus assurances of his safety, he readily dismissed 
 him. On this occasion he formed a scheme to 
 deceive Phraates : he pretended- a disposition 
 for peace, and required only that the Roman 
 standards and ensigns which had been taken at 
 the defeat of Crassus, and such of the prisoners 
 as still survived, might be restored. He sent 
 Cleopatra into Egypt ; after which he marched 
 through Arabia and Armenia, where, as soon as 
 his own troops were joined by the allies, he 
 reviewed his army. He had several princes in 
 alliance with him, but Artavasdes, king of Ar- 
 menia, was the most powerful ; for he furnished 
 6000 horse, and 7000 foot. At this review there 
 appeared 60,000 Roman foot, and 10,000 horse, 
 who, though chiefly Gauls and Spaniards, were 
 reckoned as Romans. The number of the allies, 
 including the light armed and the cavalry, 
 amounted to 30,000. 
 
 This formidable armament, which struck terror 
 into the Indians beyond Bactria, and alarmed all 
 Asia, his attachment to Cleopatra rendered per- 
 fectly useless. His impatience to return and 
 spend the winter in her arms, made him take the 
 field too early in the season, and precipitated all 
 his measures. As a man who is under the power 
 of enchantment can only act as the impulse of 
 the magic directs him, his eye was continually 
 drawn to Cleopatra, and to return to her was a 
 ' greater object than to conquer the world. He 
 
 * Dion tells us that Antigonus was first tied 
 to a stake and whipped ; and that afterwards his 
 throat was cut. 
 
 t The same Phraates that Horace mentions. 
 Redditum Cyri solio Phraatem. Lib. iii. ode 2. 
 
 ought certainly to have wintered in Armenia, 
 that he might give a proper respite and refresh- 
 ment to his men, after a march of 1000 miles. In 
 the early part of the spring, he should have made 
 himself master of Media, before the Parthian 
 troops were drawn out of garrison ; but his im- 
 patience put him upon the march, and leaving 
 Armenia on the left, he passed through <the 
 province of Atropatene, and laid waste the 
 country. In his haste, he left behind him the 
 battering engines, amongst which was a ram 
 eighty feet long, and these followed the camp on 
 300 carriages ; had any damage ^ happened to 
 these, it would have been impossible to repair 
 them in this upper part of Asia, where there is 
 no timber of height or strength sufficient for the 
 purpose. However, they were brought after him 
 under the conduct of Statianus ; and, in the 
 mean time, he laid siege to the large city of 
 Phraata, the residence of the king of Media’s 
 wives and children. Here he perceived his error 
 in leaving the engines behind : for want of which 
 he was obliged to throw up a mount against the 
 wall, and that required considerable time and 
 labour. 
 
 In the mean time, Phraates came up with a 
 numerous army, and being informed that Antony 
 had left behind him his machines, he sent a large 
 detachment to intercept them. This party fell 
 upon Statianus, who, with 10,000 of his men, 
 was slain upon the spot. Many were taken 
 prisoners, among whom was king Polemo ; and 
 the machines were seized by the enemy, and 
 destroyed. 
 
 This miscarriage greatly discouraged the army ; 
 and Artavasdes, though he had been the pro- 
 moter of the war, withdrew his forces in despair. 
 The Parthians, on the other hand, encouraged by 
 their success, came up with the Romans while 
 they were employed in the siege, and treated 
 them with the most insolent menaces and con- 
 tempt. Antony, who knew that despair and 
 timidity would be the consequence of inaction, 
 led out ten legions, three praetorian cohorts 
 heavy armed, and the whole body of cavalry, on 
 the business of foraging. He was persuaded, at 
 the same time, that this was the only method of 
 drawing the enemy after him, and bringing them 
 to a battle. After one day’s progress, he ob- 
 served the enemy in motion, and watching an 
 opportunity to fall upon him in his march. 
 Hereupon he put up in his camp the signal for 
 battle ; but, at the same time, struck his tents, 
 as if his intention was not to fight, but to retire. 
 Accordingly he passed the army of the bar- 
 barians, which was drawn up in form of a cres- 
 cent : but he had previously given orders to the 
 horse to charge the enemy, full speed, as soon as 
 their ranks were within reach of the- legionary 
 troops. The Parthians were struck with astonish- 
 ment at the order of the Roman army, when 
 they observed them pass at _ regular intervals 
 without confusion, and brandish their pikes m 
 
 silence. . r 1 1 -l 
 
 When the signal was given for battle, the 
 horse turned short, and fell with loud shouts on 
 the enemy. The Parthians received the attack 
 with firmness, though they were too close in with 
 them for the use of their bows. But when the 
 infantry came to the charge, their shouts, and 
 the clashing of their arms, so frightened the 
 enemy’s horses, that they were no longer manage- 
 
AArroJvv. 
 
 able ; and the Parthians fled without once en^ 
 gaging. Antony pursued them closely, in hopes 
 that this action would, in a great measure, ter- 
 minate the war. But when the infantry had 
 followed them fifty furlongs, and the cavalry at 
 least 150, he found that he had not slain above 
 eighty of the enemy, and that thirty only were 
 taken prisoners. Thus, the little ad va stage of 
 their victories, and the heavy loss of their defeats, 
 as in the recent instance of the carriages, was a 
 fresh discouragement of the Romans. 
 
 The day following they returned with their 
 baggage to the camp before Phraata. In their 
 march they met with some straggling troops of 
 the enemy, afterwards with greater parties, and 
 at last with the whole body, which having easily 
 rallied, appeared like a fresh army, and harassed 
 them in such a manner, that it was with difficulty 
 they reached their camp. 
 
 The Median garrison, in the absence of Antony, 
 had made a sally ; and those who were left to 
 defend the mount, had quitted their post, and 
 fled. Antony, at his return, punished the fugi- 
 tives by decimation. That is, he divided them 
 into tens; and, in each division, put one to 
 death, on whom the lot happened to fall. Those 
 that escaped had their allowance in barley instead 
 of wheat. 
 
 Both parties now found their difficulties in the 
 war. Antony had the dread of famine before 
 him, for he could not forage without a terrible 
 slaughter of his men ; and Phraates, v/ho knew 
 the temper of the Parthians, was apprehensive, 
 that, if the Romans persisted in carrying on the 
 siege, as soon as^ the autumnal equinox was 
 passed, and the winter set in, he should be de- 
 serted by his army, which would not at that time 
 endure the open field. To prevent this, he had 
 recourse to stratagem. He ordered his officers 
 not to pursue the Romans too close when they 
 were foraging, but to permit them to carry off 
 provisions. He commanded them, at the same 
 time, to compliment them on their valour : and to 
 express his high opinion of the Roman bravery. 
 They were instructed, likewise, as opportunity 
 might offer, to blame the obstinacy of Antony, 
 \vhich exposed so many brave men to the severi- 
 ties of famine and a winter campaign, who must 
 suffer of course, notwithstanding all the Parthians 
 could do for them, while Phraates sought for 
 nothing more than peace, though he was still 
 defeated in his benevolent intentions. 
 
 Antony, on these reports, began to conceive 
 hopes ; but he would not offer any terms before 
 he was satisfied whether they came originally 
 from the king. The enemy assured him that 
 such were the sentiments of Phraates ; and, being 
 induced to believe them, he sent some of his 
 fi lends to demand the standards and the prisoners 
 ^at came into their hands on the defeat of 
 Crassus ; for he thought, if he demanded nothing. 
 
 It might appear that he was pleased with the 
 privilege of retreating. The Parthian answered, 
 that the standards and prisoners could not be 
 restored ; but that Antony, if he thought proper, 
 was at liberty to retreat in safety. ’ . 
 
 After some few days had been spent in making ; 
 up the baggage, he began his march. On tins ( 
 occasion, though he had the happiest eloquence I 
 in addressing his soldiers, and reconciling them i 
 to every situation and event ; yet, whether it was ( 
 through shame, or sorrow, or both, he left that l 
 
 - office to Domitius ^nobarbus. Some of them 
 ; were offended at this as an act of contempt • 
 • but the greater part understood the cause, and’ 
 . pitymg their general, paid him still greater at- 
 : tention. 
 
 : Antony had determined to take his route through 
 
 : a plain and open country ; but a certain Mardian, 
 who was well acquainted with the practices of 
 the 1 arthians, and had approved his faith to the 
 Romans at the battle when the machines were 
 lost, a.^ vised him to take the mountains on his 
 nght, and not to expose his heavy-armed troops 
 m an open country to the attacks of the Parthian 
 bowmen and cavalry. Phraates, he said, amused 
 him with fair promises, merely to draw him off 
 from the siege ; but if he would take him for his 
 guide, he would conduct him by a way that was 
 nearer, and better furnished with necessaries. 
 Antony deliberated some time upon this. He 
 would not appear to doubt the honour of the 
 1 arthians after the truce they had agreed to • 
 and yet, he could not but approve of a way which 
 was nearer, and which lay through an inhabited 
 country. At last, he required the necessary 
 of the Mardian s faith, which he gave in 
 suffering himself to be bound till he should have 
 conducted the army into Armenia. In this con- 
 dition he led the Romans peaceably along for 
 two days ; but on the third, when Antony ex- 
 pecting nothing less than the Parthians,’ was 
 marching forward in disorderly security the 
 Mardian, observing the mounds of a river broken 
 down, and the waters let out into the plain where 
 they were to pass, concluded that the Parthians 
 bad done this to retard their march, and advised 
 Antony to be on his guard ; for the enemy he 
 said, was at no great distance. Whilst Antony 
 was drawing up his men, and preparing such of 
 them as were armed with darts and slings to 
 make a sally against the enemy, the Parthians 
 came upon him, and, by surrounding his army 
 harassed it on every part. The light-armed 
 Romans, indeed, made an incursion upon them 
 and, galling them with their missive weapons’ 
 obliged them to retreat ; but they soon return-d 
 to the charge, till a band of the Gaulish cavalry 
 attacked and dispersed them ; so that they ap- 
 peared no more that day. 
 
 Antony, upon this, found what measures he 
 was to take ; and, covering both wings and the 
 rear with such troops as were armed with missive 
 weapons, his army marched in the. form of a 
 square. The cavalry had orders to repel the 
 attacks of the enemy, but not to pursue them to 
 any great distance. The Parthians, of course 
 when in four successive days they could make no 
 considerable impression, and found themselves 
 equally annoyed in their turn, grew more remiss, 
 and, finding an excuse in the winter season’, 
 began to think of a retreat. On the fifth day 
 Havius Gallus, a general officer of great courage 
 and valour, requested Antony, that he would 
 indulge him with a number of light-armed troops 
 from the rear, together with a few horse from the 
 front ; and with these he proposed to perform 
 some considerable exploit. These he obtained 
 and in repelling the attacks of the Parthians, he 
 did not, like the rest, retreat by degrees towards 
 :he body of the army, but maintained his ground 
 ind fought rather on the offensive than on the 
 i^f^nsive. When the officers of the rear observed 
 -hat he was separated from the rest, they sent | 
 
6;,6 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 to recall him, but he did not obey the summons. 
 
 It is said, however, that Titius the quaestor 
 turned back the standard, and inveighed against 
 Gallus for leading so many brave men to de- 
 struction. Callus, on the other hand, returned 
 his reproaches, and commanding those who were 
 about him to stand, he made his retreat alone. 
 Gallus had no sooner made an impression on the 
 enemy’s front than he was surrounded, in this 
 distress he sent for assistance; and here the 
 general officers, and Canidius, the^ favourite of 
 Antony, amongst the rest, committed a most 
 capital error. Instead of leading the whole army 
 against the Parthians, as soon as one detachment 
 was overpowered, they sent another to its sup- 
 port ; and thus, by degrees, they would have 
 sacrificed great part of the troops, had not Antoi^ 
 come hastily from the front with the heavy-arined, 
 and urging on the third legion through the midst 
 of the fugitives, stopped the enemy s pursuit. ^ 
 
 In this action no fewer than 3000 were slain, 
 and 5000 brought back wounded to the camp. 
 Amongst the last was Gallus, who had four 
 arrows shot through his body, and soon after died 
 of his wounds. Antony visited all that had 
 suffered on this unhappy occasion, and consoled 
 them with tears of real grief and affection : while 
 the wounded soldiers, embracing the hand 01 
 their general, entreated him not to attend to their 
 sufferings, but to his own health and quiet. 
 
 “ While our general is safe, all, said 
 well.” It is certain that there was not in those 
 days a braver or a finer army. The men were 
 tall, stout, able and willing to endure the greatest 
 toils. Their respect and ready obedience to their 
 general was wonderful. Not a man in the army, 
 from the first officer to the meanest soldier, but 
 would have preferred the favour of Antony to his 
 own life and safety. In all these respects they 
 were at least equal to the armies of ancient 
 Rome. A variety of causes, as we have observed, 
 concurred to produce this ; Antony s noble birth 
 his eloquence, his candour, his liberality and 
 magnificence, and the familiar pleasantry of his 
 conversation. These were the general cause of 
 the affection he found in his army ; and, on this 
 particular occasion, his sympathising with the 
 wounded, and attending to their wants, made 
 them totally forget their sufferings. 
 
 The Parthians, who had before begun to lam 
 o-uish in their operations, were so much elevated 
 with this advantage, and held the Roinans in 
 such contempt, that they even spent the night by 
 their camp, in hopes of seizing the baggage while 
 they deserted their tents. At break of day num- 
 bers more came up, to the amount, as it is said, 
 of 40,000 horse : for the Parthian king had sent 
 even his body-guard, so confident was he 01 
 arsolute victoVy ; as to himself, he never was 
 present at any engagement. 
 
 Antony being now to address his soldiers, 
 for mourning apparel, that his speech might be 
 more affecting ; but as his friends would not per- 
 mit this, he appeared in his generals robe. 
 Those that had been victorious he praised, those 
 who had fled he reproached ; the former en- 
 couraged him by every testimony of their zeal ; 
 the latter, offering themselves either to decimation 
 or any other kind of punishment that he 
 think proper to inflict upon them, entreated him 
 to forego his sorrow and concern. Upon tins ne 
 raised his hands to heaven, and prayed to the gods. 
 
 that if his happier fortune was to be followed by 
 future evil, it might affect only himself, and that 
 his army might be safe and victorious. ^ 
 
 The day following they marched out in better 
 and firmer order, and the Parthians, who thought 
 they had nothing to do but to plunder, when they 
 saw their enemy in fresh spirits and in a capacity 
 for renewing the engagement, were extremely 
 disconcerted. However, they fell upon the 
 Romans from the adjacent declivities, and galled 
 them with their arrows as they were inarching 
 slowly forward. Against these attacks the light- 
 armed troops were covered by the legionaries, 
 who placing one knee upon the ground, received 
 the arrows on their shields. The rank that was 
 behind covered that which was before in a regular 
 gradation ; so that this curious fortification, which 
 defended them from the arrows of the enemy, 
 resembled the roof of a house. 
 
 The Parthians, who thought that the Romans 
 rested on their knees only through weariness and 
 fatigue, threw away their bows, and came to close 
 engagement with their spears. Upon this the 
 Romans leaped up with a loud shout, cut to pieces 
 those who came first to the attack, and put all 
 the rest to flight. This method of attack and 
 defence, being repeated every day, made 
 
 but little progress in their march, and were, 
 besides, distressed for want of provisions ; they 
 could not forage without fighting ; the corn they 
 could get was but little, and even that they had 
 not instruments to grind. The greatest part of 
 them had been left behind ; for many of their 
 beasts of burden were dead, and many were 
 employed in carrying the sick and wounded, it 
 is said that a bushel of wheat, Attic measure, was 
 sold for fifty drachmas, and a barley loaf for its 
 weight in silver. Those who sought for roots 
 and pot herbs found few that they had been ac- 
 customed to eat, and in tasting unknown herbs 
 they met with one that brought on madnep and 
 death. He that had eaten of it immediately lost 
 all memory and knowledge ; but, at the same 
 time, would busy himself in turning and moving 
 every stone he met with, as if he was upon some 
 very important pursuit. The camp was full of 
 unhappy men bending to the ground, and thus 
 digging up and removing stones, till at last they 
 wire carried off by a bilious vomiting ; when 
 wine,* the only remedy,f was not to be had. 
 Thus, while numbers perished, and the Parthians 
 still continued to harass them, Antony is said 
 frequently to have cried out, O ^e ten thou- 
 sand !” alluding to the army that Xenophon led 
 from Babylon, both a longer way,! and through 
 more numerous conflicts, and yet led in safe y. 
 
 The Parthians, when they found that they 
 could not break through the Roman ranks, nor 
 throw them into disorder, but were frequently 
 beaten in their attacks, began once more to treat 
 their foragers in a peaceable manner. Ihey 
 
 * The ancients held wine to be a principal 
 remedy against vomiting. Pr^^Urea vomitioues 
 sistit. Plin. Nat. hist. 1 . xxiii. c. 1 . ^ 
 
 *|- it was likewise esteemed good against many 
 kinds of poison. Merum est contra czeutum, 
 Aconita et omnia quce refrigerant remedium. 
 
 ^^t^ivhen Plutarch says that Xenophon led his 
 ten thousand a longer way, he must mean to 
 terminate Antony’s march with Armenia. 
 
ANTONK 
 
 showed them their bows unstrung, and informed 
 them that they had given up the pursuit, and 
 were going to depart. A few Medes, they said, 
 might continue tne route a day cr two longer, but 
 they would give the Romans no trouble, as their 
 only purpose was to protect some of the remoter 
 villages. These professions were accompanied 
 with many kind salutations ; insomuch that the 
 Romans conceived fresh hopes and spirits ; and, 
 because the way over the mountains was said to 
 be destitute of water, Antony once more was 
 desirous of taking his route through the plains. 
 When he was going to put this scheme in execu- 
 tion, one Mithridates, cousin to that Moneses 
 who had formerly sought his protection, and being 
 presented by him with three cities, came from the 
 enemy's camp, and desired he might be permitted 
 to speak witn some person that understood the 
 Syrian or the Parthian Janguage. Alexander of 
 Antioch, a friend of Antony’s, went out to him, 
 and a. ter the Parthian had informed him who he 
 was, and attributed his coming to the kindness of 
 Moneses, he asked him, whetner he did not see 
 at a great distance before him a range of high 
 hills. “Under those hills," said he, “ the whole 
 Parthian army lies in ambuscade for you ; for at 
 the foot of the mountains there is a spacious plain, 
 and there, when deluded by their artifices, you 
 have left the way over the heights, they expect 
 to find you. In the mountain roads, indeed, you 
 have thirst and toil to contend with as usual ; but, 
 should Antony take the plains, he must expect 
 the fate of Crass us.” 
 
 After he had given this information he departed, 
 and Antony on the occasion assembled a council, 
 and amongst the rest his Mardian guide, who 
 concurred with the directions of the Parthian. 
 The way over the plains, he said, was hardly 
 practicable ; were there no enemy to contend 
 with, the windings were long and tedious, and 
 difficult to be made out. The rugged way over 
 the mountains, on the contrary, had no other 
 difficulty in it than to endure thirst for one day. 
 ^tony, therefore, changed his mind, and order- 
 ing each man to take water along with him, took 
 the mountain road by night. As there was not a 
 sufficient number of vessels, some conveyed their 
 water in helmets, and others in bladders. 
 
 ^ The Parthians were informed of Antony's mo- 
 tions, and, contrary to custom, pursued him in 
 the night. About sunrise they came up with the 
 rear, weary as it was with toil and watching ; for 
 that night they had travelled thirty miles. In 
 this condition they had to contend with an un- 
 expected enemy, and, being at once obliged to 
 figat and continue their march, their thirst be- 
 came still more insupportable. At last the front 
 came up to a river, the water of which was cool 
 and clear, but being salt and acrimonious, it 
 occasioned a pain in the stomach and bowels that 
 had been heated and inflamed with thirst. The 
 Mardian guide had, indeed, forewarned them of 
 this, but the poor fellows, rejecting the informa- 
 tion that was brought them,, drank eagerly of the 
 stream. Antony, running amongst the ranks, 
 entreated them to forbear but a little. He told 
 them that there was another river at no great 
 distance, the water of which might be drank with 
 safety ; and that the way was so extremely rocky 
 and uneven, that it was impossible for the enemy's 
 cavalry to pursue. At the same time he sounded 
 a retreat to call off such as v/ere engaged with 
 
 637 
 
 the enemy, and gave the signal for pitching their 
 tents, that they might at least have the convenience 
 of shade. 
 
 While their tents were fixing, and the Par- 
 thians, as usual, retiring from the pursuit, Mith- 
 ridates came again, and Alexander being sent out 
 to him, he advised that the Romans, after a little 
 rest, should rise and make for the river, because 
 the Parthians did not propose to carry their pur- 
 suit beyond it. Alexander reported this to An- 
 tony, and Mithridates being presented with as 
 many phials and cups of gold as he could conceal 
 in his garments, once more left the camp. An- 
 tony, while it was yet day, struck his tents, and 
 marched, unmolested by the enemy. But Sfj 
 dreadful a night as followed he had never passed. 
 Those who were known to be possessed of gold 
 or silver were slain and plundered, and the 
 money that was conveyed in the baggage was 
 made a prey of. Last of all, Antony’s baggage 
 was seized, and the richest bowls and tables were 
 cut asunder and divided amongst the plunderers. 
 The greatest terror and distraction ran through 
 the whole army, for it was concluded that the 
 inroads of the enemy had occasioned this flight 
 and confusion. Antony sent for one of his freed- 
 men called Rhamnus, and made him swear that 
 he would st3.b hicn a.nd cut off his hes^dj whenever 
 he should command him, that he might neither 
 fall alive into the hands of the enemy, nor be 
 known when deEd. While his friends were weep- 
 ing around him, the Mardian guide gave him 
 some encouragement, by telling him that the 
 river was at hand, as he could perceive by the 
 cool freshness of the air that issued from it, and 
 that, of course, the troubles of his journey would 
 soon be at an end, as the night nearly was. At 
 the same time he was informed that all these dis- 
 orders had been occasioned by the avarice of the 
 soldiers, and he therefore ordered the signal for 
 encamping, that he might rectify his disordered 
 army.* 
 
 It was now daylight, and as soon as the troops 
 were brought to a little order, the Parthians once 
 more began to harass the rear. The signal was 
 therefore given to the light troops to engage, and 
 the heavy armed received the arrows under a 
 roof of shields as before. The Parthians, how- 
 ever, durst not come any more to close engage- 
 ment, and when the front had advanced a little 
 farther, the river was in sight. Antony first 
 drew up the cavalry on the bank to carry over 
 the weak and wounded. The combat was now 
 over, and the thirsty could enjoy their water in 
 quiet. At sight of the river the Parthians un- 
 strung their bows, and, with the highest enco- 
 
 * Plutarch does not in this place appear to be 
 sufficiently informed. The cause of this tumult 
 in the army could not be the avarice of the 
 soldiers only, s.nce that might have operated long 
 before, and at a time when they were capable ol" 
 enjoying money. Their object now was the pre- 
 servation of life ; and it was not wealth but 
 water that they wanted. We must look for the 
 cause of this disorder then in some other circum- 
 stance and that probably was the report of their 
 general’s despair, or possibly of his death ; for 
 otherwise, they would hardly have plundered his 
 baggage. The ^fidelity and affection they had 
 shown him in all their distresses, afford a suffi- 
 cient argument on this behalf. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 miums on their bravery, bade their enemies pass 
 over in peace. They did so, and after the neces- 
 sary refreshments, proceeded on their march, 
 without much confidence in the Parthian praise or 
 professions. Within six days from the last battle 
 they arrived at the river Araxes, which divides 
 Media from Armenia. This river, on account of 
 the depth and strength of its current, seemed 
 difficult to pass, and a rumour, moreover, ran 
 through the army that the enemy was there in 
 ambuscade, to attack them^ as they forded it. 
 However, they passed over in safety, and when 
 they set foot in Armenia, with the avidity of 
 mariners when they first come on shore, they 
 kissed the ground in adoration, and embraced 
 each other with a pleasure that could only ex- 
 press itself in tears. The ill consequences of their 
 former extremities, however, discovered them- 
 selves even here ; for as they now passed through 
 a country of plenty and profusion, their too great 
 indulgences threw them into the dropsy and the 
 colic. Antony, on reviewing his army, found 
 that he had lost 20,000 foot and 4000 horse, more 
 than half of which had not died in battle, but by 
 sickness. They had been twenty-seven days in 
 their return from Phraatae, and had beaten the 
 Parthians in eighteen engagements ; but these 
 victories were by no means complete, because 
 they could not prosecute their advantages by 
 pursuit. 
 
 Hence it is evident that Artavasdes deprived 
 Antony of the fruits of his Parthian expedition ; 
 for had he been assisted by the 16,000 horse 
 which he took with him out of Media (who were 
 armed 'like the Parthians, and accustomed to 
 fight with them, after the Romans had beaten 
 them in set battles), this cavalry might have taken 
 up the pursuit, and harassed them in such a 
 manner, that they could not so often have rallied 
 and returned to the charge. All, therefore, were 
 exciting Antony to revenge himself on Artavas- 
 des. But he followed better counsels, and in his 
 present weak and indigent condition, he did not 
 think proper to withhold the usual respect and 
 honours he had paid him. But when he came 
 into Armenia on another occasion, after having 
 drawn him to a meeting by fair promises and 
 invitations, he seized and carried him bound to 
 Alexandria, where he led him in triumphal pro- 
 cession. The Romans were offended at this 
 triumph and at Antony, who had thus transferred 
 the principal honours of their country to Egypt, 
 for the gratification of Cleopatra. _ These things, 
 however, happened in a later period of Antony’s 
 life. 
 
 The severity of the winter and perpetual snovvs 
 were so destructive to the troops, that in his 
 march, he lost 8000 men. Accompanied by a 
 small party he went down to the sea coast, and in 
 a fort between Berytus and Sidon, called the 
 White Hair^ he waited for Cleopatra. To divert 
 his impatience on her delay, he had recourse to 
 festivity and intoxication ; and he would fre- 
 quently, over his cups, start up from his seat, and 
 run leaping and dancing to look out for her ap- 
 proach. At length she came, and brought with 
 her a large quantity of money and clothing for 
 the army. Some, however, have asserted, that 
 she brought nothing but the clothes, and that 
 Antony supplied the money, though he gave her 
 the credit of it. 
 
 There happened at this time a quarrel between 
 
 Phraates and the king of the Medes, occasioned, 
 as it is said, by the division of the Roman spoils, 
 and the latter was apprehensive of losing his 
 kingdom. He therefore sent to Antony an offer 
 of his assistance against the Parthians. Antony, 
 who concluded that he had failed of conquering 
 the Parthians only through want of cavalry and 
 bowmen, and would here seem rather to confer 
 than to receive a favour, determined once more 
 to return to Armenia, and, after joining the king 
 of the Medes at the river Araxares, to renew the 
 war. 
 
 Octavia, who was still at Rome, now expressed 
 a desire of visiting Antony, and Caesar gave her 
 his permission, not according to the general 
 opinion, merely to oblige her, but that the ill 
 treatment and neglect which he concluded she. 
 should meet with might give him a pretence for 
 renewing the war. When she arrived at Athens, 
 she received letters from Antony, commanding 
 her to continue there, and acquainting her with 
 his new expedition. These letters mortified her, 
 for she suspected the expedition to be nothing 
 more than a pretence ; however, she wrote to him, 
 and desired he would send his commands where 
 she should leave the presents she had brought. 
 These presents consisted of clothing for the army, 
 beasts of burden, money, and gifts for his officers 
 and friends. Besides these, she had brought 
 2000 picked men, fully equipped and armed lor 
 the general’s cohort. Octavia sent this letter by 
 Niger, a friend of Antony’s, who did not fail to 
 pay her the compliments she deserved, but repre- 
 sented her to Antony in the most agreeable light. 
 
 Cleopatra dreaded her rival. She was appre- 
 hensive that if she came to Antony, the respectable 
 gravity of her manners, added to the authority 
 and interest of Caesar, would carry off her 
 husband. She therefore pretended to be dying 
 for the love of Antony, and to give a colour to 
 her pretence, she emaciated herself by abstinence. 
 At his approach she taught her eye to express an 
 agreeable surprise, and when he left her, she put 
 on the look of languishment and dejection. 
 Sometimes she would endeavour to weep, and 
 then, as if she wished to hide the tprs from her 
 tender Antony, she affected to wipe it off unseen. 
 
 Antony was, ail this while, preparing for his 
 Median expedition, and Cleopatra’s creatures and 
 dependents did not fail to reproach his unfeeling 
 heart, which could suffer the woman whose life 
 was wrapped up in his, to die for his sake. 
 Octavia’s marriage, they said, was a mere political 
 convenience, and it was enough for her that she 
 had the honour of being called his wife. Poor 
 Cleopatra, though queen of a mighty nation, was 
 called nothing more than his mistress ; yet even 
 with this, for the sake of his society, she could be 
 content ; but of that society, whenever she should 
 be deprived, it would deprive her of life. Phese 
 insinuations so totally unmanned him, that, 
 through fear of Cleopatra’s putting an end to her 
 life, he returned to Egypt, and put off the Mede 
 till summer, though at that time the Parthian 
 affairs were said to be in a seditious and disorderly 
 situation. At length, however, he went into 
 Armenia, and after entering into an alliance with 
 the Mede, and betrothing one of Cleopatra’s sons 
 to a daughter of his who was very young, returned, 
 that he might attend to the civil war. 
 
 When Octavia returned from Athens,^ Csesar 
 looked upon the treatment she had met with as a 
 
ANTONY, 
 
 mark of the greatest contempt, and he therefore 
 ordered her to retire and live alone. However, 
 she refused to quit her husband’s house, and 
 moreover entreated Caesar by no means to have 
 recourse to arms merely on her account. It 
 would be infamous, she said, for the two chiefs of 
 the Roman empire to involve the people in a civil 
 war, one for the love of a woman, and the other 
 out of jealousy. By her own conduct she added 
 weight to her expostulations. She kept up the 
 dignity of Antony’s house, and took the same 
 care of his children, as well those that he had by 
 Fulvia as her own, that she could possibly have 
 taken, had he been present. Antony’s friends 
 who were sent to Rome to solicit honours or 
 transact business, she kindly entertained, and 
 used her best offices with Caesar to obtain what 
 they requested. Yet even by this conduct she 
 was hurting Antony, contrary to her inclination. 
 His injurious treatment of such a woman excited 
 a general indignation ; and the distribution he 
 had made to his children in Alexandria, carried 
 with it something so imperious and so disparaging 
 to the Romans, that it increased that indignation 
 not a little. The manner of doing it was ex- 
 tremely obnoxious._ He summoned the people to 
 the place of public exercise, and ordering two 
 golden chairs to be placed on a tribunal of silver, 
 one for himself, and the other for Cleopatra, 
 beside lower seats for the children, he announced 
 her queen of Egypt, Cyprus, Africa, and Coelo- 
 syria, and nominated Cassario, her son by Caesar 
 the dictator, her colleague. The sons she had by 
 mm he entitled kings of kings, and to Alexander 
 he gave Armenia and Media, together with 
 Parthia, when it should be conquered. To 
 Ptolemy he gave Phoenicia, Syria, and Cilicia. 
 At the same time the children made their appear- 
 ance, Alexander in a Median dress, with the 
 turban and tiara ; and Ptolemy in the long cloak 
 ^d slippers, with a bonnet encircled hy a diadem. 
 The latter was dressed like the successors of 
 Alexander; the former like the Median and 
 Armenian kings. When the children saluted 
 their parents, one was attended by Armenian, the 
 other by Macedonian guards. Cleopatra on this, 
 and on other public occasions wore the sacred 
 robe of Isis,* and affected to give audience to the 
 people in the character and name of the New 
 Isis. 
 
 Csesar expatiated on these things in the senate, 
 and by frequent accusations, incensed the people 
 against Antony. Antony did not fail to re- 
 criminate by his deputies. In the first place he 
 charged Csesar with wresting Sicily out of the 
 ^nds of Pompey, and not dividing it with him. 
 His next charge was, that Caesar had never 
 u *■ r had borrowed of him ; a 
 
 third, that after reducing his colleague Lepidus to 
 the condition of a private man, he had taken to 
 himself his army, his province, and his tributes ; 
 lastly, that he had distributed almost all the lands 
 m Italy among his own soldiers, and had left 
 nothing for his. To these Caesar made answer, 
 that Lepidus was reduced from an incapacity of 
 sustaining his government ; that what he had 
 acquired by war he was ready to divide with 
 Antony, and at the same time he expected to 
 
 639 
 
 * 1 his robe was of all colours, to signify the 
 universality of the goddess’s influence. The robe 
 ot Usiris was of one colour only. 
 
 share Armenia with him ; that his soldiers had no 
 right to lands in Italy, because Media and 
 Armenia, which by their bravery they had added 
 to the Roman empire, had been allotted to them. 
 
 Antony ^ being^ informed of these things in 
 Armenia, immediately sent Canidius to the sea- 
 coast with sixteen legions. In the mean time he 
 went to Ephesus attended by Cleopatra. There 
 he assembled his fleet, which consisted of 800 ships 
 of burden, whereof Cleopatra furnished 200, be- 
 side 20,000 talents, and provisions for the whole 
 army. Antony, by the advice of Domitius and 
 some other friends, ordered Cleopatra to return to 
 Egypt? and there to wait the event of the war. 
 But the queen, apprehensive that a reconciliation 
 mighty take place, through the mediation of 
 Octavia, by means of large bribes drew over 
 Canidius to her interest. She prevailed on him 
 to represent to Antony, that it was unreasonable 
 to refuse so powerful an auxiliary the privilege of 
 being present at the war ; that her presence was 
 even necessary to animate and encourage the 
 Egyptians, who made so considerable a part of 
 his naval^ force ; nor was Cleopatra, in point of 
 abilities, inferior to any of the princes his allies ; 
 since she had not only been a long time at the 
 head of a considerable kingdom, but by her 
 intercourse with him had learned the administration 
 of the greatest affairs. These remonstrances, as 
 the F ates had decreed everything for Caesar, had 
 the desired effect, and they sailed together for 
 Samos, where they indulged in every species of 
 luxury. For at the same time that the kings, 
 governors, states, and provinces, between Syria, 
 the Moeotis, Armenia, and Lauria,'^ were com- 
 manded to send their contributions to the war, 
 the whole tribe of players and musicians were 
 ordered to repair to Samos ; and while almost the 
 whole world beside was venting its anguish in 
 groans and tears, that island alone was piping 
 and dancing. ^ The several cities sent oxen for 
 sacrifice, and kings contended in the magnificence 
 of their presents and entertainments ; so that it 
 was natural to say, “What kind of figure will 
 these people make in their triumph, when their 
 very preparations for war are so splendid ! ” 
 
 When these things were over, he gave Priene 
 for the residence of the players and musicians, 
 and sailed for Athens, where he once more 
 renewed the farce of public entertainments. The 
 Athenians had treated Octavia, when she was at 
 Athens, with the highest respect ; and Cleopatra, 
 jealous of the honours she had received, en- 
 deavoured to court the people by every mark of 
 favour. The people in return decreed her public 
 honours, and sent a deputation to wait on her 
 with the decree. At the head of this deputation 
 was Anton}’- himself, in character of a citizen of 
 Athens, and he was prolocutor on the occasion. 
 
 In the mean time he sent some of his people to 
 turn Octavia out of his house at Rome. When 
 she left it, it is said she took with her all his 
 children (except the eldest by P'ulvia, who 
 attended him), and deplored the severity of her 
 fate with tears, under the apprehension that she 
 
 * As a mountain of no note in Attica does not 
 seem proper to be mentioned with great kingdoms 
 and provinces, it is supposed that we ought to 
 read Illyria^ instead of Lauria. Illyria is after- 
 wards mentioned as the boundary of Antony’s 
 dominions on that side. 
 
640 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIFTS. 
 
 would be looked upon as one of the causes of the 
 civil war. The Romans pitied her sufferings, but 
 still more the folly of Antony, particularly such 
 as had seen Cleopatra ; for she was by no means 
 preferable to Octavia, either on account of her 
 youth or beauty. 
 
 When Crnsar was informed of the celerity and 
 magnificence of Antony’s preparations, he was 
 afraid of being forced into the war that summer. 
 This would have been very inconvenient for him, 
 as he was in want of almost everything, and the 
 levies of money occasioned a general dissatis- 
 faction. The whole body of the people were 
 taxed one-fourth of their income, and the sons of 
 freedmen one-eight. This occasioned the greatest 
 clamour and confusion in Italy, and Antony cer- 
 tainly committed a very great oversight in neglect- 
 ing the advantage. By his unaccountable delays 
 he gave Caesar an opportunity both to complete 
 his preparations, and appease the minds of the 
 people. When the money was demanded, they 
 murmured and mutinied ; but after it was once 
 paid, they thought of it no longer. 
 
 Titius and Plancus, men of consular dignity, 
 and Antony’s principal friends, being ill-used by 
 Cleopatra, on account of their opposing her stay 
 in the army, abandoned him and went over to 
 Caesar. As they knew the contents of Antony’s 
 will, they presently made him acquainted with 
 them. This will was lodged in the hands of the 
 vestals ; and when Caesar demanded it, they 
 refused to send it ; adding, that if he was deter- 
 mined to have it, he must come and take it him- 
 self. Accordingly he went and took it. First of 
 all he read it over to himself, and remarked such 
 passages as were most liable to censure. After- 
 wards he read it in the senate, and this gave a 
 general offence.* It seemed to the greatest part 
 an absurd and unprecedented, thing that a man 
 should suffer in his life, for what he had ordered 
 to be done after his death. Caesar dwelt par- 
 ticularly on the orders he had given concerning 
 his funeral ; for in case he died at Rome, he had 
 directed his body to be carried in procession 
 through the foric 7 ny and afterwards conveyed to 
 Alexandria to Cleopatra. Calvisius, a retainer of 
 Caesar’s, also accused him of having given to 
 Cleopatra the Pergamenian library, which con- 
 sisted of 200,000 volumes ; and added, that once, 
 when they supped in public, Antony rose and 
 trode on Cleopatra’s foot hy way of signal for 
 some rendezvous. He asserted, moreover, that 
 he suffered the Ephesians in his presence to call 
 Cleopatra sovereign ; and that when he was pre- 
 siding at the administration of public affairs, 
 attended by several tetrarchs and kings, he re- 
 ceived love-letters from her enclosed in onyx and 
 crystal, and there perused them. Besides, when 
 Furnius, a man of great dignity, and one of the 
 ablest of the Roman orators, was speaking in 
 public, Cleopatra was carried through the fortim 
 in a litter ; upon which Antony immediately 
 started up, and no longer paying his attention to 
 the cause, accompanied her, leaning on the litter 
 as he walked. 
 
 The veracity of Calvisius, in these accusations, 
 was, nevertheless, suspected. The friends of 
 Antony solicited the people in his behalf, and 
 
 * This was an act of most injurious violence. 
 Nothing could be more sacred than a will de- 
 posited in the hands of the vestals. 
 
 despatched Geminius, one of their nuniber, to 
 put him on his guard against the abrogation of 
 his power, and his being declared an enemy to 
 the Roman people. Geminius sailed into Greece, 
 and, on his arrival, was suspected by Cleopatra 
 as an agent of Octavius’s. On this account he 
 was contemptuously treated, and the lowest seats 
 were assigned him at the public suppers. This, 
 however, he bore for some time with patience, in 
 hopes of obtaining an interview with Antony : 
 but being publicly called upon to declare the 
 cause of his coming, he answered, that one part 
 of the cause would require to be communicated 
 at a sober hour, but the other part could not be 
 mistaken, whether a man were drunk or sober ; 
 for it was clear that all things would go well, if 
 Cleopatra retired into Egypt. Antony was ex- 
 tremely chagrined; and Cleopatra said, “You 
 have done very well, Geminius, to confess with- 
 out being put to the torture.” Geminius soon 
 after withdrew, and returned to Rome. Many 
 more of Antony’s friends were driven off by the 
 creatures of Cleopatra, v.'hen they could no longer 
 endure .their insolence and scurrility. Amongst 
 the rest were Marcus Silanus, and Delius the 
 historian. The latter informs us, that Cleopatra 
 had a design upon his life, as he was told by 
 Glaucus the physician ; because he had once 
 affronted her at supper, hy saying, that while 
 Sarmeritus was drinking Falernian at Rome, 
 they were obliged. to take up with vinegar. Sar- 
 mentus was a boy of Caesar’s, one of those 
 creatures whom the Romans call Delicice.^ 
 
 When Caesar had made his preparations, it 
 was decreed that war should be declared against 
 Cleopatra ; for that Antony could not be said to 
 possess that power which he had already given 
 up to a woman. Caesar observed, that he was 
 like a man under enchantment, who has no longer 
 any power over himself. It was not he, with 
 whom they were going to war, but Mardion the 
 eunuch, and Pothinus ; Iris, Cleopatra’s woman, 
 and Charmion ; for these had the principal 
 direction of affairs. Several prodigies are said 
 to have happened previous to this war. Pisau- 
 rum, a colony of Antony’s on the Adriatic, was 
 swallowed up by an earthquake. Antony’s statue 
 in Alba was covered with sweat for many days, 
 which returned though it was frequently wiped off. 
 While he was at Patrse, the temple of Hercules 
 was set on fire by lightning : and at Athens the 
 statue of Bacchus was carried by a whirlwind 
 from the Gigantomachia into the theatre. These 
 things concerned Antony the more nearly, as he 
 affected to be a descendant of Hercules, and an 
 imitator of Bacchus, insomuch that he was called 
 the younger Bacchus. The same wind threw down 
 the colossal statues of Eumenes and Attains, 
 called the Antonii, while the rest were unmoved. 
 And in Cleopatra’s royal galley, which was called 
 Antonias, a terrible phenomenon appeared. 
 Some swallows had built their nests in the stern, 
 and others drove them away and destroyed their 
 young. 
 
 Upon the commencement of the war, Antony 
 had no fewer than 500 armed yessels, magnifi- 
 cently adorned, and furnished with eight or ten 
 banks of oars. He had, however, 100,000 foot, 
 and 12,000 horse. The auxiliary kings, who 
 fought under his banners, were Bqcchus of Africa, 
 Tarcondemus of the Upper Cilicia, Archelaus of 
 Cappadocia, Philadelphus of Paphlagonia, Mithri- 
 
ANTONY. 
 
 641 
 
 dates of Commageiie, and Adallas of Thrace. 
 Those who did not attend in person, but sent 
 supplies, were Polemo of Pontus, Malchus of 
 Arabia, Herod of Judea, and Amyntas king of 
 Lycaonia and Galatia. Beside these he had 
 supplies also from the king of the Medes. Caesar 
 had 250 men of war, 80,000 foot, and an equal 
 number of horse with the enemy. Antony’s 
 dominions lay from the Euphrates and Armenia, 
 to the Ionian sea and Illyria : Caesar’s extended 
 from Illyria to the western ocean, and from 
 that again to the Tuscan and Sicilian sea. He 
 had likewise all that part of Africa which lies 
 opposite to Italy, Gaul and Spain, as far as the 
 pillars of Hercules. The rest of that country, 
 Irom Cyrene to Ethiopia, was in the possession 
 of Antony. 
 
 But such a slave was he to the will of a woman, 
 that though much superior at land, to gratify her, 
 he put his whole confidence in the navy : notwith- 
 standing that the ships had not half their comple- 
 ment of men, and the officers were obliged to 
 press and pick up in Greece, vagrants, ass drivers, 
 reapers, and boys. Nor could they make up 
 their numbers even with these, but many of the 
 ships were still almost empty. Caesar’s ships, 
 which were not high-built or splendidly set off for 
 show, but tight good sailors, well-manned and 
 equipped, continued in the harbours of Tarentum 
 and Ilrundusium. From thence he sent to Antony, 
 desiring he would meet him with his forces, that 
 no time might be lost : offering at the same time 
 to leave the ports and harbours free for his land- 
 ing, and to withdraw his army a day’s journey on 
 horseback, that he might make good his encamp- 
 ment. To this Antony returned a haughty an- 
 swer, and though he was the older man, chal- 
 lenged Caesar to single combat ; or if he should 
 decline this, he might meet him at Pharsalia, and 
 decide it where Caesar and Pompey had done 
 before. Caesar prevented this ; for while Antony 
 made for Actium, which is now called Nicopolis, he 
 crossed the Ionian, and seized on Tor3me, a place 
 in Epirus. Antony was distressed on finding this, 
 because he was without his infantry ; but Cleo- 
 patra made a jest of it, and asked him if it was so 
 very dreadful a thing that Caesar was got into the 
 Ladle* 
 
 Antony, as soon as it was daylight, perceived 
 the enemy making up to him ; and fearing that 
 his ill-manned vessels would be unable to stand 
 the attack, he armed the rowers, and placed them 
 on the decks to make a show : with the oars sus- 
 pended on each side of the vessels, he proceeded 
 in this mock form of battle towards Actium. Caesar 
 was deceived by the stratagem and retired. The 
 water about Caesar’s camp was both scarce and 
 bad, and Antony had the address to cut off the 
 little that they had. 
 
 It was much about this time, that contrary to 
 the inclination of Cleopatra, he acted so generous 
 a part by Domitius. The latter, even when he 
 had a fever upon him, took a small boat and went 
 over to Caesar : Antony, though he could not but 
 resent this, sent after him his baggage, his friends, 
 and servants ; and Domitius, as if it had been for 
 grief that his treachery was discovered, died 
 very soon after. f Amyntas and Deiotarus like- 
 wise went over to Caesar. 
 
 * In Greek Toryne. 
 
 t Plutarch seems to be ill-informed about thi^ 
 
 Antony’s fleet Was so very unsuccessful, and so 
 unfit for service, that he was obliged at last to 
 think of his land forces ; and Canidius, who had 
 been retained in the interest of Cleopatra, now 
 changing his mind, thought it necessary that she 
 should be sent away, and that Antony should 
 retire into Thrace and Macedonia to decide it in 
 the field. These places were thought of the 
 rather, because Dicomes, king of the Getse, had 
 offered to assist Antony with a large arm}^ To 
 give up the sea to Csesai*, who, in his Sicilian 
 wars, had acquired so much experience upon it, 
 he said, would be no disgrace ; but to give up the 
 advantage which so able a general as himself 
 might make of his land forces, and waste the 
 strength of so many legions in useless draughts 
 for the sea service, would be infinitely absurd. 
 Cleopatra, however, prevailed for the decision by 
 sea ; though her motive was not the superior 
 chance of victorjq but, in case of being van- 
 quished, the better opportunity to escape. 
 
 There was a neck of land that lay betv/een 
 Antony’s camp and his fleet, along which he used 
 to go frequently from one to the other. Caesar 
 was informed by a domestic how easy it might be 
 to seize Antony m this passage, and he sent a 
 party to lie in wait for that purpose. They were 
 so near carrying their point that they seized the 
 person who went before Antony, and had they 
 not been too hast^q he must have fallen into their 
 hands, for it was with the greatest difficulty that 
 he made his escape by flight. 
 
 After it was determined to decide the affair by 
 sea, they set fire to all the Egyptian vessels except 
 sixty. The best and largest ships from three 
 ranks of oars to ten were selected, and these had 
 their proper complement of men, for they were 
 supplied with 20,000 foot and 2000 archers. Upon 
 this a veteran warrior, an experienced officer in 
 the infantry, who had often fought under An- 
 tony, and whose body was covered with scars, 
 cried, pointing to those scars, “ Why will you, 
 general, distrust these honest wounds, and rest 
 your hopes on those villainous wooden bottoms ? 
 Let the Eg^^pdans and the Phoenicians skirmish 
 at sea ; but give us at least the land ; for there it 
 is we have learned to conquer or to die.” Antony 
 made no answer, but seemed to encourage him by 
 the motions of his hand and head ; though, at the 
 same time, he had no great confidence himself ; 
 for when the pilots would have left the sails be- 
 hind, he ordered them to take them all on board, 
 pretending, indeed, that it should be done to pursue 
 the enemy’s flight, not to facilitate his own. 
 
 On that and the three following days the sea 
 ran too high for an engagement ; but on the fifth 
 the weather was fine and~ the sea calm. Antony 
 and Poplicola led the right wing, Coelius the left, 
 and Marcus Octavius and Marcus Justeius com- 
 manded the centre. Caesar had given his left 
 wing to Agrippa, and led the right himself. An- 
 tony’s land forces were commanded by Canidius, 
 and Caesar’s remained quiet on the shore, under 
 the command of Taurus. As to the generals 
 
 matter. It is most probable that Domitius, one 
 of the firmest friends of Antony, was delirious 
 when he went over to Caesar, and that Antony 
 was sensible of this when he sent his attendants 
 after him. It is possible, at the same time, that, 
 when he returned to himself, the sense of his 
 desertion might occasion his death. 
 
642 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 themselves, Antony was rowed about in a light 
 vessel, ordering his men on account of the weight 
 of their vessels to keep their ground and fight as 
 steadily as if thej'^ vrere at land. He ordered his 
 pilots to stand as firm as if they were at anchor, 
 in that position to receive the attacks of the 
 enemy, and by all means to avoid the disad- 
 vantage of the straits. Caesar, when he left his 
 tent before day, to review his fleet, met a man 
 who was driving an ass. Upon asking his name, 
 the man answered, my name is Eutychus, and the 
 name of my ass is Nicon. '^' The place where he 
 met him was afterwards adorned with trophies of 
 the beaks of ships, and there he placed the statue 
 of the ass and his driver in brass. After having 
 reviewed the whole fleet, and taken his post in 
 the right wing, he attended to the fleet of the 
 enemy, which he was surprised to find steady and 
 motionless as if it lay at anchor. F or some time 
 he was of opinion that it was so, and for that 
 reason he kept back his fleet at the distance of 
 eight furlongs. About noon there was a brisk 
 gale from the sea, and Antony’s forces being im- 
 patient for the combat, and trusting to the height 
 and bulk of their vessels, wnich they thought 
 would render them invincible, put the left wing in 
 motion. Csesar rejoiced at the sight of this, and 
 kept back his right wing, that he might the more 
 eftectually draw them out to the open sea, where 
 his light galleys could easily surround the heavy 
 half manned vessels of the enemy. 
 
 The attack was not made with any violence or 
 impetuosity : for Antony’s ships were too heavy 
 for that kind of rapid impression, which, hov/ever, 
 is very necessary for the breach of the enemy’s 
 vessel. On the other hand, Caesar’s ships durst 
 neither encounter head to head with Antony’s, on 
 account of the strength and roughness of their 
 beaks, nor yet attack them on the sides, since by 
 means of their weight they would easily have 
 broken their beaks, which were made of large 
 square pieces of timber fastened to each other with 
 iron cramps. The engagement, therefore, was 
 like a battle at land, rather than a sea-fight, or, 
 more properly, like the storming of a town : for 
 there were generally three or more ships of 
 Caesar’s about one of Antony’s, assaulting it with 
 pikes, javelins, and fire-brands, while Antony’s 
 men, out of their wooden towers,*}* threw weapons 
 of various kinds from engines. Agrippa opened 
 his left wing, with a design to surround the 
 enemy, and Poplicola, in his endeavour to prevent 
 him, was separated from the main body, v/hich 
 threw in into disorder, while at the same time it 
 was attacked with great vigour^ by Arruntius.J 
 When things were in this situation, and nothing 
 decisive was yet effected, Cleopatra’s sixty ships 
 on a sudden hoisted their sails, and fairly took to 
 flight through the midst of the combatants ; for 
 they were placed in theTear of the large vessels, 
 and by breaking their way through them they 
 occasioned no small confusion. The enemy saw 
 them with astonishment making their way with a 
 fair wind for the Peloponnesus. Antony, on this 
 occasion, forgot both the general and the man ; 
 
 * Good Fortune and Victory, 
 t His ships are so called on account of their 
 tallness. 
 
 t Arruntius must have commanded Ctesar’s 
 centre, though that circumstance is not men- 
 tioned. 
 
 and as some author has pleasantly observed, tr.at 
 “A lover’s soul lives in the body of his mistress,” so, 
 as if he had been absolutely incorporated with her, 
 he suffered her to carry him soul and body away. 
 No sooner did he see her vessel hoisting sail, than 
 forgetting every other object, forgetting those 
 brave friends that were shedding their blood in 
 his cause, he took a five-oared galley, and accom- 
 panied only by Alexander the Syrian, and Scellius, 
 followed her w'ho was the first cause, and now the 
 accomplisher of his ruin. Her own destruction 
 was certain, and he voluntarily involved himself 
 in her fate. 
 
 When she saw him coming, she put up a signal 
 in her vessel, on which he soon went aboard : 
 neither of them could look each other in the face, 
 and Antony sat down at the head of the ship, 
 where he remained in sombre silence, holding his 
 head between his hands. In the mean time 
 Caesar’s light ships that w*ere in pursuit of An- 
 tony, came in sight. Upon this he ordered his 
 pilot to tack about and meet them ; but they all 
 declined the. engagement and made off, except 
 Eurycles the Lacedaemonian, who shook his lance 
 at him in a menacing manner on the deck. An- 
 tony standing at the head of his galley, cried, 
 “Who ai*t thou that thus pursuest Antony?” 
 He answered, “ I am Eurycles the son of La- 
 chares, and follow the fortunes of Caesar to 
 revenge my father’s death.” This Lachares 
 Antonj'- had beheaded for a robbery. Eurycles, 
 however, did not attack Antony’s vessel, but fell 
 upon the other admiral gallej^ (for there were two 
 of that rank) and by the shock turned her round. 
 He took that vessel and another which contained 
 Anton^^’s most valuable plate and furniture. 
 When Eurycles was gone, Antony returned to the 
 same pensive posture ; and continuing thus for 
 three days, during which, either through shame 
 or resentment, he refused to see Cleopatra, he 
 arrived at Tsenarus. There the women who 
 attended them, first brought them to speak to 
 each other, then to dine together, and not long 
 after, as it may be supposed, to sleep together. 
 At last, several of his transports, and some of his 
 friends who had escaped from the defeat, came up 
 with him, and informed him that his fleet w*as 
 totally destroyed, but that his land forces were 
 yet unhurt. Hereupon he sent orders to Canidius 
 immediately to march his army through Mace- 
 donia into Asia. As for himself, he determined 
 to sail from Tsenarus into Africa, and dividing one 
 ship load of treasure amongst his friends, he 
 desired them to provide for their own safety. 
 They refused the treasure, and expressed their 
 sorrow in tears ; while Antony, with the kindest 
 and most humane consolations, entreated them to 
 accept it, and dismissed them with letters of 
 recommendation to his agent at Corinth, whom he 
 ordered to give them refuge till they could be 
 reconciled to Csesar. This agent was Theophilus 
 the father of Hipparchus, who had great interest 
 with Antony ; but was the first of his freedmen 
 that went over to Csesar. He afterwards settled 
 at Corinth. 
 
 In this posture were the affairs of Antony. 
 After his fleet at Actium had long struggled with 
 Csesar ’s, a hard gale which blew right a-head of 
 the ships, obliged them to give out about four in 
 the afternoon. About 5000 men were slain in the 
 action, and Csesar, according to his own account, 
 took 300 ships. Antony’s flight was observed by 
 
ANTONY. 
 
 643 
 
 few, and to those who had not seen it, it was at first 
 incredible. They could not possibly believe that 
 a general, who had nineteen legions and 12,000 
 horse, a general to whom vicissitude of fortune 
 was nothing new, would so basely desert them. 
 His soldiers had an inexpressible desire to see 
 him, and still expecting that he would appear in 
 sorne part or other, gave the strongest testimony of 
 their courage and fidelity. Nay, when they were 
 even convinced that he was irrecoverably fled, 
 they continued embodied for seven days, and 
 would not listen to the ambassadors of Caesar. 
 At last, however, when Canidius who commanded 
 them fled from the camp by night, and when they 
 were abandoned by their principal officers, they 
 surrendered to Caesar. 
 
 After this great success, Caesar sailed for 
 Athens. The cities of Greece he found in ex- 
 treme poverty ; for they had been plundered of 
 their cattle and everything else before the war. 
 He, therefore, not only admitted them to favour, 
 but made a distribution amongst them of the 
 remainder of the corn which had been provided 
 for the war. My great grandfather Nicarchus 
 used to relate, that, as the inhabitants of Chae- 
 ronea had no horses, they were compelled to carry 
 a certain quantity of corn on their shoulders to 
 the sea-coast as far as Anticyra, and were driven 
 by soldiers with stripes like so many beasts of 
 burden. This, however, was done but once ; for 
 when the corn was measured a second time, and 
 they were preparing to carry it, news came of 
 Antony’s defeat, and this saved the city from 
 further hardships ; for the commissaries and 
 soldiers immediately took to flight, and left the 
 poor inhabitants to share the com amongst them- 
 selves. 
 
 When Antony arrived in Libya, he sent Cleo- 
 patra from Paraetonium into Egypt, and retired 
 to a melancholy desert, where he wandered up 
 and down, with only two attendants. One of 
 these was Aristocrates the Greek rhetorician ; the 
 other was Lucilius, concerning whom it has been 
 mentioned in another place, that, to favour the 
 escape of Bmtus at the battle of Philippi, he 
 assumed his name, and sufiered himself to be 
 taken. Antony saved him, and he was so grateful 
 that he attended him to the last. 
 
 When Antony was informed that he who com- 
 manded his troops in Lybia was gone over to the 
 enemj^ he attempted to lay violent hands on him- 
 self ; but he was prevented by his friends, who 
 conveyed him to Alexandria, where he found 
 Cleopatra engaged in a very>‘ bold enterprise. 
 
 ^ Between the Red Sea and the Egyptian, there 
 which divides Asia from Africa, and 
 which, in the narrowest part, is about 300 fur- 
 longs in breadth. Cleopatra had formed a design 
 of drawing her galleys over this part into the 
 Red Sea, and purposed with all her wealth and 
 forces to seek some remote country, where she 
 might neither be reduced to slavery, nor involved 
 in \yar. Hoyv^ever the first galleys that were 
 ^rried over, being burned by the Arabians of 
 Petra,* and Antony not knowing that his land 
 forces were dispersed, she gave up this enterprise, 
 and began to fortify the avenues of her kingdom. 
 
 * us, that the vessels which were 
 
 burned were not those that were drawn over the 
 isthmus, but some that had been built on that 
 side. Lib. 51. 
 
 Antony in the mean time forsook the city and the 
 society of his friends, and retired to a small house 
 which he had built himself near Pharos, on a 
 mound he had cast up in the sea. In this place, 
 sequestered from all commerce with mankind, he 
 affected to live like Timon, because there was a 
 resemblance in their fortunes. He had been 
 deserted by his friends, and their ingratitude had 
 put him out of humour with his own species. 
 
 This Timon was a citixen of Athens, and lived 
 about the time of the Peloponnesian war, as 
 appears from^ the comedies of Aristophanes and 
 Plato, in which he is exposed as the hater of 
 mankind. Yet, though he hated mankind in 
 general, he caressed the bold and impudent boy 
 Alcibiades, and being asked the reason of this by 
 Apemantus, who expressed some surprise at it, he 
 answered, it was because he foresaw that he 
 would plague the people of Athens. Apemantus 
 was the only one he admitted to his society, and 
 he was his friend in point of principle." At the 
 feast of sacrifices for the dead, these two dined by 
 themselves, and when Apemantus observed that 
 the feast was excellent, Timon answered, It 
 would be so if you were not here.” Once in an 
 assembly of the people, he mounted the rostrum, 
 and the novelty of the thing occasioned a uni- 
 versal silence and expectation, at length he said, 
 “ People of Athens, there is a fig-tree in my yard, 
 on which many worthy citizens have hanged 
 themselves ; and as I have determined to build 
 upon the spot, I thought it necessary to give this 
 public notice, that such as choose to have re- 
 course to this tree for the aforesaid purpose may 
 repair to it before it is cut down.” He was buried 
 at Halse near the sea, and the water surrounded 
 his tomb in such a manner, that he was even 
 then inaccessible to mankind. The following 
 epitaph is inscribed on his monument ; — 
 
 At last, I’ve bid the kna.ves farewell ; 
 
 Ask not my name, — but go — to hell. 
 
 It is said that he wrote this epitaph himself. 
 That which is commonly repeated, was written 
 by Callimachus. 
 
 INIy name is Timon : knaves, begone ! 
 
 Curse me, but come not near my stone ! 
 
 These are some of the many anecdotes we have 
 concerning Timon. 
 
 Canidius himself brought Antony news of the 
 defection of his army. Soon after he heard that 
 Herod of Judea was gone over to Csesar with 
 some legions and cohorts, that several other 
 powers had deserted his interest, and, in short, 
 that he had no foreign assistance to depend upon. 
 None of these things, however, disturbed him ; 
 for, at once abandoning his hopes and his cares, 
 he left his Timonian retreat, and returned to 
 Alexandria ; where, in the palace of Cleopatra, 
 he once more entertained the citizens with his 
 usual festivity and munificence. He gave the 
 toga virilis to Antjdlus, his son by P'ulvia, and 
 admitted Cleopatra’s son by Caesar into the order 
 of young men. The entertainments on this 
 occasion were infinitely pompous and magnifi- 
 cent, and lasted many da^^s. 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra had before established a 
 society called the Inimitable Livers^ of which 
 they were members ; but they now instituted 
 another by no means inferior in splendour or 
 
644 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 luxury, called The Co7?iJ>anions in Death. Their 
 friends were admitted into this, and the time 
 passed in mutual treats and diversions. Cleo- 
 patra, at the same time, was making a collection 
 of poisonous drugs, and being desirous to know 
 which was least painful in the operation, she 
 tried them on the capital convicts. Such poisons 
 as were quick in their operation, she found to be 
 attended with violent pain and convulsions ; such 
 as were milder were slow in their effect : she, 
 therefore, applied herself to the examination of 
 venomous creatures, and caused different kinds 
 of them to be applied to different persons 
 under her own inspection. These experiments 
 she repeated daily, and at length she found that 
 the bite of the asp was the most eligible kind of 
 death; for it brought on a gradual kind of 
 lethargy, in which the face was covered with a 
 gentle sweat, and the senses sunk easily into 
 stupefaction : and those who were thus affected 
 showed the same uneasiness at being disturbed or 
 awaked, that people do in the profoundest 
 natural sleep.* 
 
 They both sent ambassadors to Caesar in Asia. 
 Cleopatra requested Egypt for her children, and 
 Antony only petitioned that he might be permitted 
 to live as a private man in Egypt, or if that were 
 too much, that he might retire to Athens. De- 
 serted as they were by almost all their friends, 
 and hardly knowing in whom to confide, they 
 were forced to send Euphronius, their children’s 
 tutor, on this embassy. Alexis of Laodicea, 
 who, by means of Timogenes, became acquainted 
 with Antony at Rome, a man of great skill in the 
 Greek learning, and one of Cleopatra’s chief 
 agents in keeping Antony from Octavia, he had 
 before despatched to Judea to detain Herod in his 
 interest. ^This man gave up Antony, and relying 
 on Herod’s interest, had the confidence to appear 
 before Caesar. _ The interest of Herod, hov/ever, 
 did not save him ; for he was immediately carried 
 in chains into his own country, and there put to 
 death.^ Thus Antony had, at least, the satisfaction 
 of seeing him punished for his perfidy. 
 
 Caesar absolutely rejected Antony’s petition ; 
 but he answered Cleopatra, that she might expect 
 every favour from him, provided she either 
 took off Antony, or banished him her dominions. 
 At the same time he sent Thyreusf to her, who 
 was one of his freedmen, and whose address was 
 not unlikely to carry his point, particularly as he 
 came from a young conqueror to the court of a 
 vain and ambitious queen, who had still the 
 highest opinion of her personal charms. J As 
 
 this ambassador was indulged with audiences 
 longer and more frequent than usual, Antony 
 grew jealous, and having first ordered him to be 
 whipped, he sent him back to Caesar with letters, 
 wherein he informed him that he. had been 
 provoked by the insolence of his freedman at a 
 time when his misfortunes made him but too 
 prone to anger. “However,” added he, “you 
 have a freedman of mine, Hipparchus, in your 
 power, and if it will be any satisfaction to you, 
 use him in the same manner.” Cleopatra, that 
 she might make some amends for her in- 
 discretion, behaved to him afterwards with great 
 tenderness and respect. She kept her birthday 
 in a manner suitable to their unhappy circum- 
 stances ; but his was celebrated with such mag- 
 nificence, tnat many of the guests who came 
 poor, returned wealthy. 
 
 After Antony’s overthrow, Agrippa wrote 
 several letters to Caesar, to inform him that his 
 presence was necessary at Rome. This put off 
 the war for some time ; but as soon as the winter 
 was over, Csesar marched against Antony by the 
 route of Syria, and sent his lieutenants on the same 
 business into Africa. When Pelusium was taken. 
 It was rumoured that Seleucus had delivered up 
 the place with the connivance or consent of Cleo- 
 patra ; whereupon the queen, in order to justify 
 herself, gave up the wife and children of Seleucus 
 into the hands of Antony. Cleopatra had erected 
 near the temple of Isis some monuments of extraor- 
 dinary size and magnificence. To these she 
 removed her treasure, her gold, silver, emeralds, 
 pearls, ebony, ivory, and cinnamon, together with 
 a large quantity of flax, and a number of torches. 
 Csesar was under some apprehensions about this 
 immense wealth, lest, upon some sudden emer- 
 gency, she should set fire to the whole. For this 
 reason he was continually sending messengers to 
 her with the assurances of gentle and honourable 
 treatment, _ while in the mean time he hastened to 
 the city with his army. 
 
 When he. arrived he encamped near the Hippo- 
 drome ; upon which Antony made a brisk salty, 
 routed the cavalry, drove them back into their 
 trenches, and returned to the city with the com- 
 placency of a conqueror. As he was going to the 
 palace he met Cleopatra, whom, armed as he was, 
 he kissed without ceremony, and at the same 
 time he recommended to her flavour a brave 
 soldier, who had distinguished himself in the 
 engagement. She presented the soldier with a 
 cuirass and helmet of gold, which he took, and 
 the same night went over to Csesar. After this, 
 Antony challenged Csesar to fight him in single 
 combat, but Csesar only answered, that Antony 
 might think of many other v/ays to end his life. 
 Antony, therefore, concluding that he could not 
 die more honourably than in battle, determined 
 to attack Csesar at the same time both by sea and 
 land. The night preceding the execution of this 
 design, he ordered his servants at supper to 
 render him their best services that evening, and 
 fill the wine round plentifully ; for the day 
 following they might belong to another master, 
 whilst he lay extended on the ground, no 
 longer of consequence either to them or to him- 
 self. His friends were affected, and wept to hear 
 him talk thus ; which when he perceived, he 
 
 * Aspis so7nniculosa. Sisen. 
 
 t Dion calls him Thrysus. Antony and Cleo- 
 patra sent other ambassadors to Caesar with 
 offers of considerable treasures, and last of all 
 Antony sent his son Antyllus with large sums of 
 gold. Caesar, with that meanness which made a 
 part of his character, took the gold, but granted 
 him none of his requests. Fearing, however, 
 that despair might put Antony upon the resolution 
 of carrying the war into Spain or Gaul, or pro- 
 voke him to burn the wealth that Cleopatra had 
 been amassing, he sent this Thyreus to Alex- 
 andria. 
 
 + Dion says, that Thyreus was instructed to 
 make use of the softest address, and to insinuate 
 that Caesar was captivated with her beauty. The 
 object of this measure was to prevail on her to 
 
 take off Antony,^ while she was flattered with the 
 prospect of obtaining the conqueror. 
 
ANTOIVY. 
 
 encouraged them by assurances, that his ex- 
 pectations of a glorious victory were at least 
 equal to those of an honourable death. At the 
 dead of night, when universal silence reigned 
 through the city, a silence that was deepened by 
 the awful thought of the ensuing day, on a sudden 
 was heard the sound of musical instruments, and 
 a noise which resembled the exclamations of 
 Bacchanals. This tumultuous procession seemed 
 to pass through the whole city, and to go out at 
 the gate which led to the enemy’s camp. Those 
 who reflected on this prodigy, concluded that 
 Bacchus, the god whom Antony affected to 
 imitate, had then forsaken him. 
 
 As soon as it was light, he led his infantry out 
 of the city, and posted them on a rising ground, 
 from whence he saw his fleet advance towards the 
 enemy. There he stood waiting for the event ; 
 but as soon as the two fleets met, they hailed 
 each other with their oars in a very friendly 
 manner (Antony’s fleet making the first advances), 
 and sailed together peaceably towards the city. 
 This, was no sooner done, than the cavalry de- 
 serted him in the same manner, and surrendered 
 to Csesar. His infantry were routed ; and as he 
 retired to the city, he exclaimed that Cleopatra 
 had betrayed him to those with whom he was 
 fighting only for her sake. 
 
 The unhappy queen, dreading the effects of his 
 anger, fled to her monument, and having secured 
 it as much as possible with bars and bolts, she 
 gave orders that Antony should be informed she 
 was dead. Believing the information to be true, 
 he cried, “ Antony, why dost thou delay ? What 
 is life to thee, when it is taken from her, for whom 
 alone thou couldst wish to live ? ” He then went 
 to his chamber, and opening his coat of mail, he 
 said, “ I am not distressed, Cleopatra, that thou 
 art gone before me, for I shall soon be with thee ; 
 but I grieve to think that I, who have been so 
 distinguished a general, should be inferior in 
 magnanimity to a woman.” He was then at- 
 tended by a faithful servant, whose narne was 
 Eros. He had engaged this servant to kill him 
 whenever he should think it necessary, and he 
 now demanded that service. _ Eros drew his 
 sword, as if he designed to kill him ; but, suddenly 
 turning about, he slew himself, and fell at his 
 master’s feet ! “This, Eros, was greatly done,” 
 said Antony ; “ thy heart would not permit thee 
 to kill thy master, but thou hast taught him what 
 to do by thy example.” He then plunged his 
 sword into his bowels, and threw himself on a 
 couch that stood by. The wound, however, was 
 not so deep as to cause immediate death ; and the 
 blood stopping as he lay on the couch, he came 
 to himself, and entreated those who stood by to 
 put him out of his pain. They all fled neverthe- 
 less, and left him to his cries and torments, till 
 Diomedes, secretary to Cleopatra, came with her 
 request, that he would come to her in the monu- 
 ment. When Antony found that she was still 
 living, it gave him fresh spirits, and he ordered 
 his servants to take him up. Accordingly they 
 carried him in their arms to the door of the 
 monument. Cleopatra would not suffer the door 
 to be opened, but a cord being let down from a 
 window, Antony was fastened to it, and she, with 
 her two women, all that were admitted into the 
 monument, drew him up. Nothing, as they who 
 were present observ’ed, could possibly be more 
 affecting than that spectacle, Antony, covered 
 
 64s 
 
 with blood, and in the agonies of death, hoisted 
 up by the rope, and stretching out his hands to 
 Cleopatra, while he was suspended for a consider- 
 able time, in the air ! For it was with the greatest 
 difficulty they drew him up, though Cleopatra 
 herself exerted all her strength, straining every 
 nerve, and distorting every feature with the 
 violence of the effort ; while those who stood 
 below endeavoured to animate and encourage 
 her, and seemed to partake in all the toil, and all 
 the emotions that she felt. When she had drawn 
 him up, and laid him on a bed, as she stood over 
 him, she rent her clothes, beat and wounded her 
 breast, and wiping the blood from his disfigured 
 countenance, she called him her lord, her em- 
 peror, her husband ! Her soul was absorbed in 
 his misfortunes ; and she seemed totally to have 
 forgot that she had any miseries of her own. 
 Antony endeavoured to soothe her as well as he 
 was able, and called for wine ; either because he 
 was thirsty, or because he thought it might sooner 
 put him out of his pain. When he had drank, 
 he advised her to consult her own affairs and her 
 safety, so far as might be consistent with honour, 
 and to place her confidence in Proculeius rather 
 than in the other friends of Csesar. As to himself, 
 he said that she ought rather to rejoice in the 
 remembrance of his past happiness than to bewail 
 his present misfortunes ; since in his life he had 
 been illustrious, and was not inglorious in his 
 death. He had conquered like a Roman, and it 
 was only by a Roman that he was conquered. A 
 little before he expired, Proculeius arrived from 
 Csesar : for after Antony had stabbed himself, 
 and was conveyed to Cleopatra, Dercetseus, one 
 of his guards, privately carried off his bloody 
 sword, and showed it to Csesar. When Csesar 
 beheld this token of Antony’s death, he retired 
 to the inner part of his tent, and shed some tears 
 in remembrance of a man who had been his 
 relation, his colleague in government, and his 
 associate in so many battles and important 
 affairs.* He then called his friends together, 
 and read the letters which had pass*ed between 
 him and Antony, wherein it appeared that, though 
 Csesar had still written in a rational and equitable 
 manner, the answers of Antony were insolent and 
 contemptuous. After this, he despatched Pro- 
 culeius with orders to take Cleopatra alive, if it 
 were possible, for he was extremely solicitous to 
 save the treasures in the monument, which would 
 so greatly add to the glory of his triumph. 
 However, she refu.sed to admit him into the 
 monument, and would only speak to him through 
 the bolted gate. The substance of this con- 
 ference was, that Cleopatra made a requisition of 
 the kingdom for her children, while Proculeius, 
 on the other hand, encouraged her to trust every- 
 thing to Csesar. 
 
 After he had reconnoitred the place, he sent an 
 account of it to Caesar ; upon whch Callus was 
 despatched to confer with Cleopatra. The thing 
 was thus concerted : Callus went up to the gate 
 
 * This retirement of Csesar was certainly an 
 affectation of concern. The death of Antony had 
 been an invariable object with him. He was too 
 cowardly to think himself safe while he lived ; 
 and to expose his weakness by reading his letters 
 the moment he was informed of his death, was 
 certainly no proof that he felt even then any 
 tenderness for his memory. 
 
PLUT ARCHES LIVES, 
 
 646 
 
 of the monument, and drew Cleopatra into con- 
 versation, while, in the mean time, Proculeius 
 applied a ladder to the window, where the women 
 had taken in Antony ; and having got in with 
 two servants, he immediately made for the place 
 where Cleopatra was in conference with Callus. 
 One of her”^ women discovered him, and imme- 
 diately screamed aloud, “Wretched Cleopatra, 
 you are taken alive.” She turned about, and, 
 seeing Proculeius, the same instant attempted to 
 stab herself ; for to this intent she always carried 
 a dagger about with her. Proculeius, however, 
 prevented her, and, expostulating with her, as he 
 held her in his arms, he entreated her not to be 
 so injurious to herself or to Ca:;sar : that she 
 would not deprive so humane a prince of the glory 
 of his clemency, or expose him by her distrust to 
 the imputation of treachery or cruelty. At the 
 same time he took the dagger from her, and shook 
 her clothes, lest she should have poison concealed 
 about her. Csesar also sent his freedman Epa- 
 phroditus with orders to treat her with the 
 greatest politeness, but, by all means, to bring 
 her alive. 
 
 Csesar entered Alexandria conversing with Arius 
 the philosopher; and that he might do him 
 honour before the people, he led him by the hand. 
 When he entered the Gymnasium, he ascended a 
 tribunal which had been erected for him, and 
 gave assurances to the citizens, who prostrated 
 themselves before him, that the city should not 
 be hurt. He told them he had different motives 
 for this. In the first place, it was built by Alex- 
 ander ; in the next place, he admired it for its 
 beauty and magnitude ; and, lastly, he would 
 spare it, were it but for the sake of his friend Arius, 
 who was born there. Csesar gave him the high 
 honour of this appellation, and pardoned many at 
 his request. Amongst these was Philostratus, 
 one of the most acute and eloquent sophists of 
 his time. This man, without any right, pretended 
 to be a follower of the academics ; and Csesar, 
 from a bad opinion of his morals, rejected his 
 petition : upon which the sophist followed Arius 
 up and down in a mourning cloak, with a long 
 white beard, crying constantly — 
 
 The wdse, if really such, will save the wise. 
 
 Csesar heard and pardoned him, not so much out 
 of favour, as to save Arius from the impertinence 
 and em'y he might incur on his account. 
 
 Antyllus, the eldest son of Antony by Fulvia, 
 was betrayed by his tutor Theodorus and put to 
 death. While the soldiers were beheading him, 
 the tutor stole a jewel of considerable value, 
 which he wore about his neck, and concealed it 
 in his girdle. When he was charged with it, he 
 denied the fact ; but the jewel was found upon 
 him, and he was crucified. Csesar appointed a 
 guard over Cleopatra’s children and their gover- 
 nors, and allowed them an honourable support. 
 Csesario, the reputed son of Csesar the dictator, 
 had been sent by his mother, with a considerable 
 sum of money, through Ethiopia into India. 
 But, Rhodon, his governor, a man of the same 
 principles with Theodoru.s, persuading him that 
 Csesar would certainly make him king of Egypt, 
 prevailed on him to turn back. While Csesar was 
 deliberating how he should dispose of him, Arius 
 is said to have observed, that there ought not, by 
 any means, to be too many Csesars. However, 
 soon after the death of Cleopatra, he was slain. 
 
 Many considerable princes begged the body of 
 Antony, that they might have the honour of 
 giving it burial ; but Csesar would not take it 
 from Cleopatra, who interred it with her own 
 hands, and performed the funeral rites with 
 great magnificence; for she was allowed _ to 
 expend what she thought proper on the occasion. 
 The excess of her affliction, and the inflamma- 
 tion of her breast, which was wounded by the 
 blows she had given it in her anguish, threw her 
 into a fever. She was pleased to find an excuse 
 in this for abstaining from food, and hoped, by 
 this means, to die w'ithoiit interruption. The 
 physician, in whom she placed her principal con- 
 fidence, was Ol^'-mpus ; and, according to his 
 short account of these transactions, she made use 
 of his advice in the accomplishment of her de- 
 sign. Csesar, however, suspected it ; and that he 
 might prevail on her to take the necessary food 
 and physic, he threatened to treat her children 
 with severity. This had the desired effect, and 
 her resolution wrns overborne.* 
 
 A few days after, Csesar himself made her a 
 visit of condolence and consolation. She was 
 then in an undress, and lying negligently on a 
 couch; but when the conqueror entered the 
 apartment, though she had nothing on, but a 
 single bedgown, she arose and threw herself at 
 his feet. Her face was out of figure, her hair in 
 disorder, her voice trembling, her eyes sunk, and 
 her bosom bore the marks of the injuries she had 
 done it. In short, her person gave you the 
 image of her mind ; yet, in this deplorable con- 
 dition, there were some remains of that grace, 
 that spirit and vivacity which had so peculiarly 
 animated her former charms, and still some 
 gleams of her native elegance might be seen to 
 wander over her melancholy countenance.! 
 
 When Csesar had replaced her on her couch, 
 and seated himself by her, she endeavoured to 
 justify the part she took against him in the war, 
 alleging the necessity she was under, and her 
 fear of Antony. But when she found that these 
 apologies had no weight with Csesar, she had 
 recourse to prayers and entreaties, as if she had 
 been really desirous of life ; and, at the same 
 time, she put into his hands an inventory of her 
 treasure. Seleucus, one of her treasurers, who 
 was present, accused her of suppressing some 
 articles in the account ; upon which she started 
 up from her couch, caught him by the hair, and 
 gave him several blows on the face. Csesar 
 smiled at this spirited resentment, and endea- 
 voured to pacify her : ‘ ‘ But how is it to be 
 
 * Cleopatra certainly possessed the virtues of 
 fidelity and natural afection in a very eminent 
 degree. She had several opportunities of betray- 
 ing Antony, could she have been induced to it 
 either by fear or ambition. Her tenderness for 
 her children is always superior to her self-love ; 
 and she had a greatness of soul which Csesar 
 never knew. 
 
 t Dion gives a more pompous account of her 
 reception of Csesar. She received him, he tells 
 us, in a magnificent apartment, lying on a 
 splendid bed, in a mourning habit, which pecu- 
 liarly became her ; that she had several pictures 
 of Julius Csesar placed near her; and some letters 
 she had received from him in her bosom. The 
 conversation turned on the same subject ; and her 
 speech on the occasion is recorded. Dion. 1 . 54. 
 
ANTONY, 
 
 647 
 
 borne,” said she, Cssar, if, while even you 
 honour me with a visit in my wretched situation, 
 
 I must be affronted by one of my own servants ! 
 Supposing that I have reserved a few trinkets, 
 they were by no means intended as ornaments tor 
 my own person in these miserable fortunes, but 
 as little presents for Octavia and Livia, by whose 
 good offices I might hope to find favour with you. 
 Caesar was not displeased to hear this, because 
 he flattered himself that she was willing to live. 
 He, therefore, assured her, that, whatever she 
 had reserved she might dispose of at her plea- 
 sure; and that she might, in every respect, 
 depend on the most honourable treatment. 
 this he took his leave, in confidence that he had 
 brought her to his purpose : but she deceived 
 him. , 
 
 There was in Caesar’s tram a young nobleman, 
 whose name was Cornelius Dolabella. He was 
 smitten with the charms of Cleopatra, and having 
 engaged to communicate to her everything that 
 passed, he sent her private notice that C^sar was 
 about to return into Syria, and that, within three 
 days, she would be sent away with her children. 
 When she was informed of this, she requested of 
 Caesar permission to make her last oblations to 
 Antony. This being granted she was conveyed 
 to the place where he was buried ; and kneeling 
 at his tomb, with her women, she thus addressed 
 the manes of the dead : “ It is not long, my 
 Antony, since with these hands I buried thee. 
 Alas ! they then were free ; but thy Cleopatra is 
 now a prisoner, attended by a guard, lest in me 
 transports of her grief, she should disfigure this 
 captive body, which is reserved to adorn the 
 triumph over thee. These are the last offerings, 
 the last honours she can pay thee ; for slm is now 
 to be conveyed to a distant country. Nothing 
 could part us while we lived; but in death we 
 are to be divided. Thou, though a Roman, best 
 buried in Egypt; and I, an Egyptian must be 
 interred in Italy, the only favour I shall receive 
 from thy country. Yet, if the gods of Rome 
 have power or mercy left (for surely those of 
 Egypt have forsaken us),* let them not suffer me 
 to be led in living triumph to thy disgrace ! No ! 
 hide me, hide me with thee in the grave ; tor 
 life, since thou hast left it, has been misery to 
 
 ^^Thus the unhappy queen bewailed her mis- 
 fortunes ; and, after she had crowned the tomb 
 with flowers, and kissed it, she ordered her batn 
 to be prepared. When she had bathed, she 
 sat down to a magnificent supper ; soon after 
 which, a peasant came to the gate with a small 
 basket. The guards inquired what it contained ; 
 and the man who brought it, putting by the 
 leaves which lay uppermost, showed them a 
 parcel of figs. As they admired their size and 
 beauty, he smiled and bade them take some ; 
 but they refused, and not suspecting that the 
 basket contained anything else, it was carried in. 
 After supper Cleopatra sent a letter to Caesar, 
 and, ordering everybody out of the monument, 
 
 ■■ It was the opinion of the ancients, that the 
 gods forsook the vanquished. T.hus Vtrgill 
 
 Excesserc omnes, adytis arisque relictis, _ 
 
 Dii, quibus imperium hoc steterat. u. 
 
 And Tacitus— 
 
 Alieni jam imperii deos. 
 
 except her two women, she made fast the door. 
 When Caesar opened the letter, the plaintive style 
 in which it was written, and the strong request 
 that she might be buried in the same tomb with 
 Antony, made him suspect her design. At first 
 he was for hastening to her himself, but he 
 changed his mind and despatched others.* Her 
 death, however, was so sudden, that though they 
 who were sent ran the whole way, alarmed the 
 guards with their apprehensions, and imme- 
 diately broke open the doors, they found her 
 quite deadji* lying on her golden bed, and dressed 
 in all her royal ornament.s. Iras, one of her 
 women, lay dead at her feet, and Charmion, 
 hardly able to support herself, was adjusting her 
 mistress’s diadem. One of Caesar’s messengers 
 said angrily, “ Charmion, was this well done ? ” 
 “Perfectly well,” said .she, “and worthy a 
 descendant of the kings of Egypt.” She had no 
 sooner said this, than she fell down dead. 
 
 It is related by some that an asp was brought 
 in amongst the figs, and hid under the leaves ; 
 and that Cleopatra had ordered it so that .she 
 might be bit without seeing it ; that, however, 
 upon removing the leave.s, she perceived it, and 
 said, “ This is what I wanted.” Upon which she 
 immediately held out her arm to it. Others say, 
 that the asp was kept in_a water vessel, and that 
 she vexed and pricked it with a golden spindle 
 till it seized her arm. Nothing of this, however, 
 could be ascertained ; for it was reported like- 
 wise that she carried about with her a certain 
 poison in a hollow bodkin that she wore in tier 
 hair ; yet there was neither any mark of poison 
 on her body, nor was there any serpent found in 
 the monument, though the track of a reptile was 
 said to have been discovered on the sea sands 
 opposite to the windows of Cleopatra’s apart- 
 ment. Others, again, have affirmed, that she 
 had two small punctures on her arm, apparently 
 occasioned by the sting of the a.sp j and it is 
 clear that Csesar gave credit to this; for her 
 effigy, which he carried in triumph, had an asp 
 onthearm.J 
 
 Such are the accounts we have of the death of 
 Cleopatra; and though Csesar was much dis- 
 appointed by it, he admired her fortitude, and 
 ordered her to be buried in the tomb of Antony, 
 with all the magnificence due to her quality. 
 Her women, too, were, by his orders, interred 
 with great funeral pomp. Cleopatra died at the 
 age of thirty-nine, after having reigned twenty- 
 two years, the fourteen last in conjunction with 
 Antony. Antony was fifty-three, some say fifty- 
 si.x, when he died. His statues were all de- 
 molished, but Cleopatra’s remain untouched ; for 
 Archibius, a friend of hers, gave Csesar 1000 
 talents for their redemption. 
 
 Antony left by his three wives seven children, § 
 
 * This is another instance of his personal 
 cowardice. 
 
 t Dion says, that Csesar ordered her to be 
 .sucked by the Psylli, that the poison might be 
 drawn out ; but it was too late. 
 
 J This may be a matter of doubt. There 
 would, of course, be an asp on the diadem of 
 the effigy, because it was peculiar to the kings of 
 Egypt ; and this might give rise to the report of 
 an asp being on the arm. 
 
 § By Fulvia, he had Antyllus and Antony ; 
 by Cleopatra, he had Cleopatra, Ptolemy, and 
 
64S 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 whereof Antyllus, the eldest, only- was put to 
 death. Octavia took the rest, and educated them 
 as her own. Cleopatra, his daughter by Cleo- 
 patra, was married to Juba, one of the politest 
 princes of his time ; and Octavia made Antony, 
 his son by Fulvia, so considerable with Caesar, 
 that, after Agrippa and the sons of Livia, he was 
 generally allowed to hold the first place in his 
 favour. Octavia, by her first husband Marcellus, 
 had two daughters and a son named Marcellus. 
 One of these daughters she married to Agrippa ; 
 and the son married a daughter of Caesar’s. But 
 as he died soon after, and Octavia observing that 
 her brother was at a loss whom he should adopt 
 in his place, she prevailed on him to give his 
 daughter Julia to Agrippa, though her own 
 daughter must necessarily be divorced to make 
 
 Alexander ; and by Octavia^ Antonia, major and 
 minor. 
 
 way for her. Caesar and Agrippa having agreed 
 on this point, she took back her daughter and 
 married her to Antony. Of the two daughters 
 that Octavia had by Antony, one was married to 
 Domitius .^nobarbus, and the other, Antonia, 
 so much celebrated for her beauty and virtue, 
 married Drusus, the son of Livia, and son-in-law 
 to Csesar. Of this line came Germanicus and 
 Claudius. Claudius was afterwards emperor ; 
 and so likewise was Caius the son of Germanicus, 
 who, after a short but infamous reign, was put 
 to death, together with his wife and daughter. 
 Agrippina, who had Lucius Domitius by vEno- 
 barbus, was afterwards married to Claudius 
 Csesar. He adopted Domitius, whom he named 
 Nero Germanicus. This Nero, who was emperor 
 in our times, put his own mother to death, and, 
 b}^ the madness of his conduct, went near to ruin 
 the Roman empire. He was the fifth in descent 
 from Antony, 
 
 DEMETRIUS AND ANTONY COMPARED. 
 
 As Demetrius and Antony both passed through 
 a variety of fortune, we shall consider, in the 
 first place, their respective power and celebrity. 
 These were hereditary to Demetrius ; for Anti- 
 gonus, the most powerful of Alexander’s suc- 
 cessors, had reduced all Asia during his son’s 
 minority. On the other hand, the father of 
 Antony was, indeed, a man of character, but not 
 of a _ military character ; yet though he had no 
 public influence or reputation to bequeath to his 
 son, that son did not hesitate to aspire to the 
 empire of Csesar ; and, without any title either 
 from consanguinity or alliance, he effectually 
 invested himself with all that he had acquired : 
 at least, by his own peculiar weight, after he had 
 divided the world into two parts, he took the 
 better for himself. By his lieutenants he con- 
 quered the Parthians, and drove back the bar- 
 barous nations about Caucasus, as far as the 
 Caspian sea. Even the less reputable parts of 
 his conduct are so many testimonies of his great- 
 ness. The father of Demetrius thought it an 
 honour to marry him to Phila the daughter of 
 Antipater, though there was a disparity in their 
 years ; while Antony’s connection with Cleopatra 
 was considered as a degrading circumstance ; 
 though Cleopatra, in wealth and magnificence, 
 was superior to all the princes of her time, 
 Arsaces excepted. Thus he had raised himself 
 to such a pitch of grandeur, that the world in 
 general thought him entitled even to more than 
 he w.shed. 
 
 In Demetrius’s acquisition of empire there was 
 nothing reprehensible. He extended it only to 
 nations inured to slavery, and desirous of being 
 governed. But the arbitrary power of Antony 
 grew on the execrable policy of a tyrant, who 
 once more reduced to slavery a people that had 
 shaken off the yoke. Consequently the greatest 
 of his actions, his conquest of Brutus and Cassius, 
 is darkened with the inglorious motive of wresting 
 its liberty from Rome. Demetrius, during his 
 better fortunes, consulted the liberties of Greece, 
 and removed the garrisons from the cities ; while 
 Antony made it his boast, that he had destroyed 
 the assertors of his country’s freedom in Mace- 
 donia. 
 
 Antony is praised for his liberality and munifi- 
 cence ; in which, however, Demetrius is so far 
 his superior that Jie gave more to his enemies 
 than the former did to his friends. Antony was 
 honoured for allowing a magnificent funeral to 
 Brutus ; but Demetrius buried every enemy he 
 had slain, and sent back his prisoners to Ptolemy, 
 not only with their own property, but with pre- 
 sents. 
 
 Both were insolent in prosperity, and fell with 
 too much ease into luxury and indulgence. But 
 we never find Demetrius neglecting his affairs for 
 his pleasures. In his hours of leisure, indeed, he 
 had his Lamia, whose office it was, like the fairy 
 in the fable, to lull him to sleep, or amuse him in 
 his play. When he went to war, his spear was 
 not bound about with ivy ; his helmet did not 
 smell of perfume ; he did not come in the foppery 
 of dress out of the chambers of the women ; the 
 riots of Bacchus and his train were hushed ; and 
 he became, as Euripides says, the minister of 
 Mars. In short, he.never lost battle through the 
 indulgence of luxury. ^ This could not be said of 
 Antony : as in the pictures of Hercules we see 
 Omphale stealing his club and his lion’s skin, 
 so Cleopatra frequently disarmed Antony, and, 
 while he should have been prosecuting the most 
 necessary expeditions, led him to dancing and 
 dalliance on the shores of Canopus and Tapho- 
 siris.* So, likewise, as Paris came from battle 
 to the bosom of Helen; and even from the loss of 
 victory to her bed, Antony threw victory itself 
 out of his hands to follow Cleopatra. 
 
 Demetrius being under no prohibition of the 
 laws, but following the examples of Philip and 
 Alexander, Lysimachus and Ptolemy, married 
 several wives, and treated them all with the 
 greatest honour. Antony, though it was a thing 
 unheard of amongst the Romans, had two wives 
 at the same time. Besides, he banished her who 
 was properly his wife, and z. citizen, from his 
 house, to indulge a foreigner with whom he could 
 have no legal connection. From their marriages. 
 
 * Strabo mentions this as a romantic place 
 near the sea, full of rocks, where the yoiing went 
 1 to amuse themselves. Lib. xvii. 
 
DION. 
 
 649 
 
 of course, one of them found no_ inconvenience ; 
 the other suffered the greatest evils. 
 
 In respect to their amours, Antony was com- 
 paratively pardonable and modest. Historians 
 tell us, that the Athenians turned the dogs out 
 of the citadel, because they had their procreative 
 intercourse in public. But Demetrius had his 
 courtesans, and dishonoured the matrons of 
 Athens even in the temple of Minerva. Nay, 
 though cruelty seems to be inconsistent with 
 sensual gratifications, he scrupled not to drive 
 the most beautiful and virtuous youth in the city 
 to the extremity of death, to avoid his brutal 
 designs. In short, Antony, by his amorous in- 
 dulgences, hurt only himself ; Demetrius injured 
 others. 
 
 With regard to their behaviour to their parents 
 and relations, that of Demetrius is irreproach- 
 able ; but Antony sacrificed his uncle to the 
 sword of Csesar, that he might be empowered in 
 his turn to cut off Cicero. A crime the latter 
 was, which never could be made pardonable, had 
 Antony even saved and not sacrificed an uncle by 
 the means ! They are both accused of perfidy, 
 in that one of them threw Artabazus in prison ; 
 and the other killed Alexander. Antony, how- 
 
 ever, has some apology in this case : for he had 
 been abandoned and betrayed by Artabazus in 
 Media. But Demetrius was suspected of laying 
 a false accusation against Alexander, and of 
 punishing, not the offender, but the injured. 
 
 There is this difference, too, in their military 
 operations, that Demetrius gained every victory 
 himself, and many of Antony’s laurels were won 
 by his lieutenants. 
 
 Both lost their empire by their own fault, but 
 by different means. The former was abandoned 
 by his people ; the latter deserted his, even 
 whilst they were fighting for him. The fault of 
 Demetrius was, that, by his conduct, he lost the 
 affection of his army : the fault of Antony, his 
 desertion and neglect of that affection. Neither 
 of them can be approved in their death ; but 
 Demetrius much less than Antony ; for he suf- 
 fered himself to fall into the hands of the enemy, 
 and, with a spirit that was truly bestial, endured 
 an imprisonment of three years for nothing but 
 the low indulgences of appetite. ^ There was a 
 deplorable weakness, and many disgraceful cir- 
 cumstances attending the death of Antony ; but 
 he effected it at last without falling into the 
 enemy’s hands. 
 
 DION. 
 
 As we learn from Simonides, my dear Senecio, 
 that the Trojans were by no means offended at 
 the Corinthians for joining the confederates in 
 the Grecian war, because the family of Glaucus, 
 their own ally, was originally of Corinth, so 
 neither the Greeks nor the Romans have reason 
 to complain of the academy, which has been 
 equally favourable to both. This will appear 
 from the lives of Brutus and Dion ; for, as one 
 was the scholar of Plato, and the other educated 
 in his principles, they came like_ wrestlers from 
 the same Palaestra, to engage in the _ greatest 
 conflicts. Both by their conduct, in which there 
 was a great similarity, confirmed that observation 
 of their master, that “ Power and fortune must 
 concur with prudence and justice, to effect any- 
 thing great in a political capacity but as Hippo- 
 machus, the wrestler, said, that he could distinguish 
 his scholars at a distance, though they were only 
 carrying meat from the market ; so the sentiments 
 of those who have had a polite education, must 
 have a similar influence on their manners, and 
 give a peculiar grace and propriety to their con- 
 duct. 
 
 ^ Accident, however, rather than design, gave a 
 similarity to the lives of these two men ; and both 
 were cut off by an untimely death, before they 
 could carry the purposes, which they had pursued 
 with so much labour, into execution. The most 
 singular circumstance attending their death was, 
 that both had a divine warning of it, in the ap- 
 pearance of a frightful spectre. There are those, 
 indeed, who say, that no man in his senses ever 
 saw a spectre ; that these are the delusive visions 
 of women and children ; or of men whose in- 
 tellects are affected by some infirmity of the body : 
 and who believe that their absurd imaginations 
 are of divine inspiration. But if Dion and Brutus, 
 men of firm and philosophic minds, whose under- 
 standings were not affected by any constitutional 
 
 infirmity if such men could pay so much credit 
 to the appearance of spectres, as to give an 
 account of them to their friends, I see no reason 
 why we should depart from the opiriion of the 
 ancients, that men had their evil genii, who dis- 
 turbed them with fears, and distressed their virtue, 
 lest by a steady and uniform pursuit of it, they 
 should hereafter obtain a happier allotment than 
 themselves.* These things, however, I must 
 refer to another occasion ; and shall now give 
 the parallel lives of Dion and Brutus, beginning 
 with the more ancient. 
 
 After Dionysius the elder had seized the govern- 
 ment of Sicily, he married the daughter of 
 Hermocrates, a Syracusan. But as the monarchic 
 power was yet but ill established,^ she had the 
 misfortune to be so much abused in her person 
 by an outrageous faction, that she put an end to 
 her life. When Dionysius was confirmed in his 
 government, he married two wives at the same 
 time. One was Doris, a native of Locris ; the 
 other Aristomache, the daughter of Hipparinus, 
 who was a principal person in Syracuse^ and 
 colleague with Dionysius, when he was first ap- 
 pointed general of the Sicilian forces. It is said 
 that he married these wives on the same day. It 
 is not certain which he enjoyed first, but he was 
 impartial in his kindness to them ; for both 
 attended him at his table, and alternately partook 
 of his bed. As Doris had the disadvantage of 
 being a foreigner, the Syracusans sought every 
 means of obtaining the preference for their 
 countrywoman ; but it was more than equivalent 
 
 ♦ This is perfectly agreeable to the Platonic 
 doctrine of the different orders and dispositions 
 of the genii. And as Dion and Brutus were both 
 great enthusiasts in Platonism, the strength of 
 their faith brought their spectres before them. 
 
Cso PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 ■to this disadvantage, that she had the honour 
 of giving Dionysius his eldest son. Aristomache, 
 on the contrary, was a long time barren, though 
 the king was extremely desirous of having children 
 by her ; and put to death the mother of Doris, 
 upon a supposition that she had prevented her 
 conceptions by potions. 
 
 Dion, the brother of Aristomache, was well 
 received at court ; not only on her account, but 
 from the regard which Dionysius had for his 
 merit and abilities : and that prince gave his 
 treasurer an order to supply him with whatever 
 money he wanted ; but, at the same time, to keep 
 an account of what he received. 
 
 But whatever the talents and the virtues of 
 Dion might be originally, it is certain that they 
 received the happiest improvement under the 
 auspices of Plato. Surely the gods, in mercy to 
 mankind, sent that divine philosopher from Italy 
 to Syracuse, that through the humane influence 
 of his doctrine, the spirit of liberty might once 
 more revive, and the inhabitants of that country 
 be rescued from tyranny.* 
 
 _Dion soon became the most distinguished of 
 his scholars. To the fertility of his genius, and 
 the excellence _ of his disposition, Plato himself 
 has given testimony,! and he did the greatest 
 honour to that testimony in his life. For though 
 he had been educated in servile principles under 
 a tyrant ; though he had been familiarized to 
 dependence on the one hand, and to the indulgence 
 of pomp and luxury, as the greatest happiness, 
 on the other ; yet he was no sooner acquainted 
 with that philosophy which points out the road 
 to virtue, than his whole soul caught the en- 
 thusiasm ; and, with the simplicity of a young 
 man, who judges of the dispositions of others by 
 his own, he concluded that Plato’s lectures would 
 have the same effect on Dionysius : for this 
 reason he solicited, and at length persuaded, the 
 tyrant to hear him. When Plato was admitted, 
 the discourse turned on virtue in general. After- 
 wards they came to fortitude in particular ; and 
 Plato made it appear, that tyrants have, of all 
 men, the least pretence to that virtue. Justice 
 was the next topic ; and when Plato asserted the 
 happiness of the just, and the wretched condition 
 of the unjust, the Jyrant was stung; and being 
 unable to answer his arguments, he expressed his 
 resentrnent against those who seemed to listen to 
 him with pleasure. At last he was extremely 
 exasperated, and asked the philosopher what 
 business he had in Sicily. Plato answered, that 
 he came to seek an honest man. “And so, then,” 
 replied the tyrant, “ it seems you have lost your 
 labouf.” Dion was in hopes that his anger would 
 have ended here ; but while Plato was hasting to 
 be gone, he conveyed him on board a galley, in 
 which Ppllis, the Lacedaemonian, was returning 
 to Greece. Dionysius urged Pollis either to put 
 Plato to death in his passage, or, at least, to sell 
 him as a slave ; for according to his own maxim,” 
 said he, “this man cannot be unhappy; a just 
 man, he says, must be happy in a state of slavery, 
 as well as in a state of freedom.” Pollis, there- 
 
 fore, carried him to iEgina, and sold him there.* 
 For the people of that place, being at war with 
 the Athenians, had made a decree, that whatever 
 Athenian was taken on their coast, he should be 
 sold. Dion, notwithstanding, retained his interest 
 with Dionysius, had considerable employments, 
 and was sent ambassador to Carthage. Dionysius 
 had a high esteem for him, and he, therefore, 
 permitted him to speak his sentiments with free- 
 dom. An instance of this we have in the retort 
 he made on the tyrant’s ridiculing the government 
 of Gelo : “ Gelo,” said Dionysius, “is (Gelos) the 
 laughing-stock of Sicily.”^ While others admired 
 and applauded this witticism, Dion answered, 
 “You obtained the crown by being trusted 
 on Gelo’s account, who reigned with great 
 humanity ; but you have reigned in such a 
 manner, that, for j^our sake, no man will be 
 trusted hereafter. Gelo made monarchy appear 
 the best of governments ; but you have convinced 
 us_ that it is the worst.” Dionysius had three 
 children by Doris, and four by Aristomache, 
 whereof two v>^re daughters, Sophrosyne and 
 Arete. The former of these was married to his 
 eldest son, Dionysius; the latter to his brother. 
 Thearides; and after his death, to her uncle* 
 Dion. In the last illness of Dionysius, Dion 
 would have applied to him in behalf of the 
 children of Aristomache, but the physicians were 
 beforehand with hirn. They wanted to ingratiate 
 themselves with his successor ; and when he 
 asked for a sleeping dose, Timaeus tells us, they 
 gave him so effectual a one that he awaked no 
 more. 
 
 When his son Dionysius came to the throne, 
 in the first council that he held, Dion spoke with 
 so much propriety on the present state of affairs, 
 and on the measures which ought to be taken, 
 that the rest appeared to be mere children in 
 understanding. By the freedom of his counsels, 
 he exposed in a strong light, the slavish principles 
 of those, who, through a timorous disingenuity, 
 advised such rneasures as they thought would 
 please their prince, rather than such as might 
 advance his interest. But what alarmed them 
 most, was the steps he proposed to take with 
 regard to the impending war with Carthage ; for 
 he offered either to go in person to Carthage, and 
 settle an honourable peace with the Carthaginians, 
 or, if the king were rather inclined for war, to fit 
 out and maintain fifty galleys at his own expense. 
 
 Dionysius was pleased with the magnificence 
 of his spirit ; but the courtfirs felt that it made 
 them appear little. They agreed that, at all 
 events, Dion was to be crushed, and they spa ed 
 no calumny that malice could suggest. They 
 represented to the king, that he certainly meant 
 to make himself master by sea, and by that means 
 to obtain the kingdom for his sister’s children. 
 There was, moreover, another and an obvious 
 cause of their hatred to him, in the reserve of his 
 manners, and of the sobriety of his life. They 
 led the young and ill-educated king through every 
 species of debauchery, the shameless panders to 
 his wrong directed passions. Yet while folly 
 rioted, tyranny slept : its rage was dissolved in 
 the ardour of youthful indulgences, as iron is i 
 softened in the fire ; and that lenity which the 
 Sicilians could not expect from the virtue of their 
 prince, they found in his weakness. Thus the 
 
 * Plato, in his seventh letter, says, “ When I 
 explained the principles of philosophy and 
 humanity to Dion, I little thought that I was 
 insensibly opening a way to the subversion of 
 t5n-anny ! ” 
 t Plato, ibid. 
 
 * For twenty pounds. 
 
DION. 
 
 651 
 
 reins of that monarchic which Dionysius vainly 
 called adamantine, fell gradually from the loose 
 and dissolute hand that held them. This young 
 prince, it is said, would continue the scene of 
 intoxication for ninety days without intermission ; 
 during which time no sober person was admitted 
 to his court, where all^ was drunkenness and 
 buffoonery, revelry and riot. 
 
 Their enmity to Dion, who had no taste for 
 these enjoyments, was a thing of course. And, 
 as he refused to partake with them in their vices, 
 they resolved to strip him of his virtues. To these 
 they gave the names of such vices as are supposed 
 in some degree to resemble them. ^ His gravity 
 of manners, they called pride ; his^ freedom of 
 speech, insolence ; his declining to join in their 
 licentiousness, contempt. It is true, there was 
 a natural haughtiness in his deportment ; and 
 an asperity that was unsociable and difficult of 
 access : so that it is not to be wondered if he 
 found no ready admission to the ears of a young 
 king, already spoiled by flattery. Many, even 
 of his own particular friends, who adrnired the 
 integrity and generosity of his heart, could not 
 but condemn those forbidding manners, \yhich 
 Avere so ill-adapted to social and political inter- 
 course : and Plato himself, when he wrote to him 
 some time after, warned him, as it were by the 
 spirit of prophecy, to guard against that austerity 
 which is the companion of solitude.* However, 
 the necessity of the times, and the feeble state 
 of the monarchy, rendered it necessary for the 
 king, though contrary to his inclination, to re- 
 tain him in the highest appointments ; and this 
 Dion himself very well knew. 
 
 As he was willing to impute the irregularities 
 of Dionysius to ignorance and a bad education, 
 he endeavoured to engage him in a course of 
 liberal studies, and to give him a taste for those 
 sciences which have a tendency to moral im- 
 provement. By this means he hoped that he 
 should induce him to think of virtue without 
 disgust, and at length to embrace its precepts 
 with pleasure. The young Dionysius was not 
 naturally the worst of princes ; but his father 
 being apprehensive that if his mind were ipa- 
 proved by science and the conversation of wise 
 and virtuous men, he might some time or other 
 think of depriving him of his kingdom, kept him 
 in close confinement; where, through ignorance 
 and want of other employment, he amused him- 
 self with making little chariots, candlesticks, 
 wooden chairs, and tables. His father, indeed, 
 was so suspicious of all mankind, and so wretchedly 
 timorous, that he would not suffer a barber to 
 shave him ; but had his hair singed off with a 
 live coal by one of his own attendants. Neither 
 his brother nor his son were admitted into his 
 chamber in their own clothes, but were first 
 stripped and examined by the sentinels, and 
 after that were obliged to put on such clothes 
 as were provided for them. When his brother 
 Leptines was once describing the situation of 
 a place, he took a spear from one of the guards 
 
 * >] 6e av6a6eia apti/jua $vvoiKo^. Literally, 
 “ Haughtiness lives under the same roof with 
 solitude.” This is towards the end of Plato’s 
 fourth letter. It is preceded by a fine political 
 precept, viz. that the complaisance which pro- 
 duces popularity is the source of the greatest 
 operations in government. 
 
 to trace the plan, upon which Dionysius was 
 extremely offended, and caused the soldier who 
 had given up his spear, to be put to death. He 
 was afraid, he said, of the sense and sagacity of 
 his friends ; because he knew they must think it 
 more eligible to govern than to obey. He slew 
 Marsyas, whom he had advanced to a consider- 
 able military command, merely because Marsyas 
 dreamed that he killed him ; for he concluded, 
 that this dream by night was occasioned by some 
 similar suggestion of the day. Yet even this 
 timorous and suspicious wretch was offended 
 with Plato, because he would not allow him to 
 be the most valiant man in the world ! 
 
 When Dion, as we have before observed, con- 
 sidered that the irregularities of young Dionysius 
 were chiefly owing to his want of education, he 
 exhorted him earnestly to apply himself to study ; 
 and by all means to send for Plato, the prince of 
 philosophers, into Sicily. “ When he comes,” 
 said he, “apply to him without Ipss of time. 
 Conformed by his precepts to that divine exemplar 
 of beauty and perfection, which called the uni- 
 verse from confusion into order, you will at once 
 secure your own happiness, and the happiness of 
 your people. The obedience they now render you 
 through fear, by your justice and moderation you 
 will improve to a principle of filial duty ; and of 
 a tyrant, you will become a king. Fear and 
 force, and fleets and armies, are not, as_ your 
 father called them, the adamantine chains of 
 government ; but that attention, that affection, 
 that respect, which justice and goodness for ever 
 draw after them. These are the milder,^ but the 
 stronger bonds of empire. Besides, it is surely 
 a disgrace for a prince, who in all the circum- 
 stances of figure and appearance is distinguished 
 from the people, not to rise above them at the 
 same time, in the superiority of his conversation, 
 and the cultivation of his mind,” 
 
 As Dion frequently solicited the king on this 
 subject, and occasionally repeated some of Plato’s 
 arguments, he conceived at length a violent in- 
 clination to hear him discourse. He therefore 
 sent several letters of invitation to him at Athens, 
 which were seconded by the entreaties of Dion. 
 The Pythagorean philosophers in Italy requested 
 at the same time, that he would undertake the 
 direction of this young prince, Avhose mind was 
 misguided by power, and reclaim him by the 
 solid counsels of philosophy. Plato, as he owns 
 himself, was ashamed to be a philosopher in 
 theory, and not in practice ; and flattering him- 
 self that if he could rectify the mind of the 
 prince, he might hy the same means remedy the 
 disorders of the kingdom, he yielded to their 
 request. 
 
 The enemies of Dion, now fearing an alteration 
 in Dionysius, advised him to recall from exile one 
 Philistus, who was indeed a man of learning, * 
 but employed his talents in defence of the de- 
 spotic policy ; and this man they intended to set 
 in opposition to Plato and his philosophy. Phi- 
 listus, from the beginning, had been a principal 
 instrument in promoting the monarchic govern- 
 ment, and kept the citadel, of which he was 
 governor, a long time for that party. It is said 
 that he had a private commerce with the mother 
 
 ♦ He wrote the histories of Egypt, Sicily, and 
 the reign of Dionysius. Cicero calls him the 
 petty Thucydide.s ; Pt(siilus Thncidi:L's. 
 
6S2 
 
 PLUTARCH’S IHVES. 
 
 of the elder Dionysius, and that the tyrant him- 
 self was not ignorant of it. Be this as it may, 
 Leptines, who had two daughters by a married 
 woman whom lie had debauched, gave one_ of 
 them in marriage to Philistus ; but this being 
 done without consulting Dionysius, he was 
 offended, imprisoned Leptines’s mistress,^ and 
 banished Philistus. The latter fled to his friends 
 at Adria, where, it is probable, he composed the 
 greatest part of his history ; for he did not return 
 to Sicily during the reign of that Dionysius. 
 After his death, as we have observed, Dion’s 
 enemies occasioned him to be recalled. His ar- 
 bitrary principles were suitable for their purpose, 
 and he began to exercise them immediately on 
 his return. 
 
 At the same time calumnies and impeachments 
 against Dion were, as usual, brought to the king. 
 He was accused of holding a private correspond- 
 ence with Theodoses and Heraclides, for the 
 subversion of the monarchy; and indeed it is 
 probable that he entertained some hopes from the 
 arrival of Plato, of lessening the excessive power of 
 Dionysius, or, at least, of making him moderate 
 and equitable in the use of it. Besides, if he 
 continued obstinate, and were not to be reclaimed, 
 he was determined to depose him, and restore 
 the commonwealth to the Syracusans ; for he 
 preferred even the popular form of government 
 to an absolute monarchy, where a well regulated 
 aristocracy could not be procured. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs when Plato came 
 into Sicily. At first he was received with the 
 greatest appearance of kindness, and he was con- 
 veyed from the coast in one of the king’s most 
 splendid chariots. Even Dionysius himself sacri- 
 ficed to the gods in acknowledgment of his safe 
 arrival, and of the honour and happiness they 
 had by that means conferred on his kingdom. 
 The people had the greatest hopes of a speedy 
 reformation. They observed an unusual decorum 
 in the entertainments at court, and a sobriety in 
 the conduct of the courtiers ; while the king 
 answered all to whom he gave audience in a very 
 obliging manner. The desire of learning, and the 
 study of philosophy were become general ; and 
 the several apartments of the royal palace were 
 like so many schools of geometricians, full of the 
 dust in which the students describe their mathe- 
 matical figures. Not long after this, at a solemn 
 sacrifice in the citadel, when the herald prayed 
 as usual for the long continuance of the govern- 
 ment, Dionysius is said to have cried, ‘‘How 
 long will you continue to curse me ? ” This was 
 an inexpressible mortification to Philistus and 
 his party: “if Plato,” said they, “has already 
 made such a change in the king, his influence in 
 time will be irresistible.” 
 
 They now no longer made their attacks on 
 Dion separately, or in private. They united in 
 exclaiming against him, that he had fascinated 
 the king with the delusions of eloquence and 
 philosophy, in order to obtain the kingdom for 
 his sister’s children. They represented it as a 
 matter of the greatest indignity, that after the 
 whole force of the Athenians had vainly invaded 
 Sicily, and were vanquished and destroyed, with- 
 out so much as being able to take Syracuse, they 
 should now, by means of one sophist, overturn 
 the empire of Dionysius. It was with indigna- 
 tion they beheld the deluded monarch prevailed 
 on by his insinuations to part with his guard of 
 
 10,000 spearmen, to give up a navy of 400 galleys, 
 to disband an army of 10,000 horse, and many 
 times that number of foot, in order that he might 
 pursue an ideal happiness in the academy, and 
 amuse himself with theorems of geometry, wliile 
 the substantial enjoyments of wealth and power 
 were left to Dion and the children of Aristo- 
 mache. 
 
 By means of these suggestions Dion first in- 
 curred the suspicion, and soon after the open 
 displeasure of Dionysius. K letter of his was 
 likewise intercepted, and privately carried to the 
 king. It was addressed to the Carthaginian 
 agents, and directed them not to have their 
 audience of the king concerning the conclusion 
 of the peace, unless he were present, and then 
 everything should be settled as they wished. 
 Timaeus informs us, that after Dionysius had 
 showed this letter to Philistus, and consulted him 
 upon it, he over-reached Dion by a pretence of 
 reconciliation, and told him, that he was desirous 
 their good understanding might be renewed. 
 After this, as he was one day walking alone with 
 him by the wall of the castle, near the sea, 
 he showed him the letter, and accused him of 
 conspiring with the Carthaginians against him. 
 When Dion attempted to speak in his own de- 
 fence, Dionysius refused to hear him : and having 
 forced him on board a vessel which lay there for 
 the purpose, commanded the sailors to set him 
 ashore in Italy. 
 
 When this was publicly known, it was gene- 
 rally condemned as tyrannical and cruel. The 
 court was in distress for the ladies of Dion’s 
 family ; but the citizens received fresh courage 
 from the event ; for they were in hopes that the 
 odium which it would bring upon Dionysius, and 
 the general discontent that his government oc- 
 casioned, might contribute to bring about a revo- 
 lution. Dionysius perceived this with some 
 anxiety, and thinking it necessary to pacify the 
 women and the rest of Dion’s friends, he told 
 them that he was not gone into exile, but only 
 sent out of the way for a time, that his obstinacy- 
 might not draw upon him a heavier punishment. 
 He also allowed his friends two ships, that they 
 might convey to him, in Peloponnesus, as much 
 of his treasure, and as many of his servants as 
 they should think fit : for Dion was a. man of 
 considerable property, and little inferior to the 
 king in wealth or magnificence. The most valu- 
 able part of his effects, together with presents 
 from the ladies and others of his acquaintance, 
 his friends conveyed to him ; and the splendour 
 of his fortune gained him great respect among 
 the Greeks. At the same time they conceived a 
 high idea of the power of the tyrant, when an 
 exile from his kingdom could make such an ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 Dionysius now removed Plato into the citadel, 
 under colour of kindness; but in reality to set a 
 guard upon him, lest he should follow Dion, and 
 proclaim to the world how injuriously he had 
 been treated. 
 
 As wild beasts become tame and tractable by 
 use, so the tyrant, by frequent conversation with 
 the philosopher, began at last to conceive an 
 affection for him; yet even that affection had 
 something of the tyrant in it ; for he required of 
 Plato, in return, that he should exclusively con- 
 fine his -regard and admiration to him. _ On con- 
 dition that he would prefer his friendship to that 
 
DION, 
 
 of Dion, he was willing to give up the whole ad- 
 ministration into his hands. This extravagant 
 affection gave Plato no small trouble : for it was 
 accompanied with petulance and jealousy, as the 
 love which subsists between the different sexes 
 has its quarrels and reconciliations. He ex- 
 pressed the strongest desire to become Plato’s 
 scholar, and to proceed in the study of philoso- 
 phy ; but he expressed it with reluctance in the 
 presence of those who wanted to divert him from 
 his purpose, and seemed as if he was in pursuit of 
 something he ought to be ashamed of. 
 
 As a war broke out about this time, he found it 
 necessary to dismiss Plato ; but he promised him, 
 before his departure, to recall Dion the ensuing 
 summer ; however, he did not keep his promise, 
 but made the war he was engaged in his axiology, 
 and remitted to him the produce of his estate. 
 At the same time he desired Plato to acquiesce in 
 his apology, assuring him that he would send for 
 Dion on the commencement of the peace ; and 
 he entreated, in the meanwhile, that Dion would 
 be x>eaceable, and not say or do anything that 
 might hurt his character among the Greeks. 
 This Plato endeavoured to effect, by keeping 
 Dion in the academy in pursuit of philosophy. 
 
 At Athens Dion lived with an acquaintance 
 whose name was Cailippus. But a piece of 
 pleasure ground which he purchased, he gave, on 
 hLs departure, to Speusippus, with whom he had 
 most usually conversed. Speusippus, as Timon, 
 in his poems called Syllis, informs us, was a 
 facetious companion, and had a turn for raillery ; 
 and Plato was desirous that Dion’s severity of 
 manners might be softened by the plea^ntry 
 of his conversation. When Plato exhibited a 
 chorus of boys at Athens,"* Dion took upon 
 himself the management, and defrayed the ex- 
 pense. Plato was desirous that this munificence 
 might procure him popularity, and on that 
 account he readily gave up the honour of con- 
 ducting the affair himself. 
 
 Dion likewise visited other cities, and conversed 
 with the principal statesmen, by whom he w'as 
 publicly entertained. In his manners there was 
 now no longer anything pompous or affected ; 
 there was nothing that savoured of the dissolute 
 luxury of a tyrant’s court ; his behaviour was 
 modest, discreet, and manly ; and his philosophical 
 discourses were learned and ingenious. This 
 procured him popular favour and public honours ; 
 and the Lacedaemonians, without regard to the 
 resentment of Dionysius, though at the very time 
 they had received succours from him against the 
 Thebans, made him free of their city. _ We are 
 told that Dion accepted an invitation from 
 Ptoeodorus the Megarensian, who was a man of 
 considerable power and fortune ; and when he 
 found his door crowded with people on business, 
 and that it was difficult to have acce.ss to him, he 
 said to his friends, who expressed their dissatis- 
 faction on the occasion, “\\^y should this affiont 
 us ? we did this, and more than this, at Syracuse.” 
 
 Dion’s popularity in Greece soon excited the 
 jealousy of Dionysius, who therefore stopped his 
 remittances, and put his estate in the hands of 
 his own stewards. However, that his reputation 
 might not suffer, through Plato’s means, amongst 
 
 * This was a dramatic entertainment, exhibited 
 with great expense and magnificence on the feast 
 of Bacchus. 
 
 the philosophers, he retained a number of learned 
 men in his court ; and being desirous to outshine 
 them all in disputation, he frequently was under a 
 necessity of introducing, without the least pro- 
 priety, the arguments he had learned from Plato. 
 He now wished for that philosopher again, and 
 repented that he had so ill availed himself of his 
 instructions. Like a tyrant, therefore, whose 
 desires, however extravagant, are immediately to 
 be complied with, he was violently bent on 
 recalling him. To affect thi.s, he thought of every 
 expedient, and at length prevailed on Archytas, 
 and the rest of the Pythagorean philosophers, to 
 pledge themselvfes for the performance of his 
 promi.ses, and to persuade him to return to Sicily ; 
 for it was Plato that first introduced those 
 philosophers to Dionysius. 
 
 On their part, they sent Archidamus to Plato, 
 and Dionysius, at the same time, sent some galleys, 
 with several of his friends, to join in their request. 
 The tyrant likewise wTote to him, and told him, 
 in plain terms, that Dion must expect no favour 
 from him, if Plato .should not come into Sicily ; 
 but, upon his arrival, he might depend on every 
 thing he desired. Dion was also solicited by his 
 sister and wife to prevail with Plato to gratify the 
 tyrant, that he might no longer have an apology 
 for the severity of his treatment. Plato, therefore, 
 as he says himself, set sail the third time for 
 Sicily — 
 
 To brave Charybdis’ dreadful gulf once more !* 
 
 HLs arrival was not only a ^tisfaction to 
 Dionysiu.s, but to all Sicily ; the inhabitants of 
 which did not fail to implore the gods, that Plato 
 might overcome Philistus, and that the tyranny 
 might expire under the influence of his philosophy. 
 Plato was in high favour with the women in 
 particular, and with Dionysius he had such credit 
 as no other person could boast ; for he was 
 allowed to come to him without being searched. 
 When Aristippus, the Cyrenean, observed, that 
 the king frequently offered Plato money, and 
 that Plato as constantly refund it : he said, 
 that Dionysius was liberal without danger of 
 exhausting his treasury ; for to those who wanted, 
 and would take money, he was sparing in his 
 offers; but profuse where he knew it v/ould be 
 refused. 
 
 After the first civilities were over, Plato took 
 an opportunity to mention Dion ; but the tyrant 
 put him off, till, at last, expostulations and 
 animo.sities took place. ’ILese, however, Dionysius 
 was industrious to conceal, and endeavoured to 
 bring over Plato from the interest of Dion by 
 repeated favours and studied civilities. The 
 philosopher, on the other hand, did not imme- 
 diately publish his perfidy, but dissembled his 
 resentment. While things were thus circum- 
 stanced, Helicon of Cyzicus, one of Plato’s 
 followers, foretold an eclipse of the sun ; and as 
 it happened, according to his prediction, the king, 
 in admiration of his learning, rewarded him with 
 a talent of silver. Upon this Aristippu.s, jesting 
 among the rest of the philosophers, told them, he 
 had something extraordinary likewise to prog- 
 nosticate. Being entreated to make it known, 
 “ I foresee,” said he, “ that in a short time there 
 will be a quarrel between Dionysius and Plato.” 
 Soon after this, Dionysius sold Dion’s e^te, and 
 
 • Odyss. 1. xii. 
 
FLU-714 J^CH’S LIVES, 
 
 654 
 
 converted the money to his own use. Plato was 
 removed from his apartment in the palace-gardens, 
 and placed within the purlieus of the guards, who 
 had long hated, and even sought to kill liim, on a 
 supposition that he advised the tyrant to lay down 
 his government and disband his army. 
 
 Archytas, who had engaged for Plato’s safety, 
 when he understood his danger, sent a galley to 
 demand him ; and the tyrant to palliate his 
 enmity, previous to his .departure, made pompous 
 entertainments. At one of them, however, he 
 could not help saying, “I suppose, Plato, when 
 you return to 3^our companions in the academy, 
 my faults will often be the subject of your con- 
 versation.” “I hope,” answered Plato, “we 
 shall never be so much at a loss for subjects in the 
 academy, as to talk of you.” Such are the 
 circumstances which have been mentioned con- 
 cerning Plato’s departure, but they are not 
 perfectly consistent with Plato’s own account. 
 
 Dion being offended, not only with these things, 
 but at some intelligence he had before received 
 concerning his wife, which is alluded to in Plato’s 
 letter to Dionysius, openly declared himself his 
 enemy. The affair was this : Plato, on his return 
 to Greece,^ was desired by Dionysius privately to 
 consult Dion, whether he would be averse to his 
 wife’s marrying another man; for there was a 
 report, whether true, or the invention of his 
 enemies, that _ his matrimonial state was not 
 agreeable to him, and that there was a coolness 
 betwixt him and Arete. After Plato had con- 
 sulted Dion on the affair, he wrote to Dionysius, 
 and though he spoke in plain terms of other 
 matters, he mentioned this in a manner that could 
 only be intelligible to_ the king. He told him, 
 that he had talked with Dion on the business, 
 and that he would certainly resent it if any such 
 attempt were made. 
 
 While any prospect of an accommodation re- 
 mained, Dionysius took no further steps in the 
 affair ; but when that prospect was gone, and 
 Plato once more had left Sicily in displeasure, he 
 compelled Arete to marry Timocrates ; and, in 
 this instance, he fell short even of the justice and 
 lenity of his father. When Philoxenus, who had 
 married his sister Theste, was declared his enemy, 
 and fled through fear out of Sicily, Dionysius sent 
 for his sister, and reproached her with being privy 
 to her husband’s escape, without letting him know 
 it. Theste answered, without fear or hesitation, 
 “Do you think me, Dionysius, so bad a wife, or 
 so weak^ a woman, that if I had known of my 
 husband’s flight, I would not have accom.panied 
 him, and shared in the worst of his fortunes? 
 Indeed I was ignorant of it. And I assure you, 
 that I should esteem it a higher honour to be 
 called the wife of Philoxenus the exile, than the 
 sister of Dionysius the tyrant.” The king, it is 
 said, admired her spirited answer : and the Syra- 
 cusans honoured her so much that she retained 
 her princely retinue after the dissolution of the 
 tyranny; and the citizens, by public decree, 
 attended the solemnity of her funeral. This is a 
 digression, but it may have its use. 
 
 Dion now thought of nothing but war. Plato, 
 however, was against it ; partly on account of the 
 hospitable favours he had received from Diony- 
 ^ partly because of the advanced age of 
 ^lon. Speusippus, and the rest of his friends, on 
 tiie other hand, encouraged him to rescue from 
 slavery his native Sicily, that stretched forth her 
 
 hands towards him, and would certainly receive 
 him with every expression of joy. Speusippus, 
 when he attended Plato into Sicily, had mixed 
 more with the people, and learned their sentiments 
 with regard to the government. At first, indeed, 
 they were reserved, and suspected him for an 
 emissary of the tyrant’s : but by degrees, he 
 obtained their confidence. In short, it was the 
 voice, the prayer of the people, that Dion would 
 corne, though without either army or navy, to 
 their relief, and lend them only his name and his 
 presence a^inst the tyrant. Dion was en- 
 couraged by these representations ; and, the 
 more effectually to conceal his intentions, he 
 raised what forces he was able by means of his 
 friends. He was assisted in this by many states- 
 men and philosophers, amongst whom was En- 
 demus, the Cyprian (on occasion of whose death 
 Aristotle wrote his dialogue on the soul), and 
 Timonides, the Leucadian. These engaged in 
 his interest ^ Miltas the Thessalian, who was 
 skilled in divination, and had been his fellow 
 academician. But of all those whom the tyrant 
 had banished, which were no fewer than looo, no 
 more than twenty-five gave in their names for the 
 service. ^ The rest, for want of spirit, would not 
 ei^gage in the cause. The general rendezvous 
 was in the island of Zacynthus ; and here, when 
 the little army was assembled, it did not amount 
 to 800 men.* But they were men who had signal- 
 ized themselves in the greatest engagements ; 
 they were _ in perfect discipline, and inured to 
 hardship ; in courage and conduct they had no 
 superiors in the army ; in short, they were such 
 men as were likely to serve the cause of Dion, in 
 animating, by their example, those who came to 
 his standard in Sicily. 
 
 Yet these men, when they understood that they 
 were to be -led against Dionysius, were' dis- 
 heartened, and condemned the rash resentment 
 of Dion ; the consequence of which they looked 
 upon as certain ruin. N or were they less offended 
 with their commanders, and those who had en- 
 listed them, because they had concealed the 
 design of the service. But when Dion, in a 
 public speech, after showing them the feeble state 
 of Dionysius’s government, told them, that he 
 considered them rather as so many officers whom 
 he carried to head the people of Sicily, already 
 prepared to revolt, than as private men ;— and 
 when Alcimenes, who, in birth and reputation, 
 was the principal man in Achaia, had concurred 
 in the address of Dion, and joined in the ex- 
 pedition, they then were satisfied. 
 
 It was novv about midsummer, the Etesian 
 winds t prevailed at sea, and the moon was at the 
 
 Diodorus enlarges with great propriety on the 
 extraordinary spirit and success of this enterprise. 
 Lib. xvi. 
 
 t These winds blew regularly at a certain 
 season of the year. Strabo sometimes calls them 
 east, and sometimes north winds ; but to convey 
 Dion from Zacynthus to Pachynus, they must 
 have^ blown from the east. Pliny makes the 
 Etesian winds the same as the north-east wind. 
 Aguilo in eestate media mutat nomeit, et Etesias 
 vacatur. Hist. Nat. 1 . xviii. cap. 34. He tells 
 us, when the winds begin, xviii. Calend. Au- 
 gusti, Egypto aguilo occidit fnaiutino, Etesia- 
 rumgue Prodromi Flatus incipiunt, ibid. 1 . xviii. 
 cap. 28. And when they end ; Decimo Sexto 
 
 J 
 
DION. 
 
 full, when Dion prepared a^ magnificent sacrifice 
 to Apollo, and marched in procession to the 
 temple, with his men under arms. After the 
 sacrifice, he gave them a feast in the race ground 
 of the Zacynthians. They were astonished at the 
 quantity of gold and silver plate that was ex- 
 hibited on this occasion, so far above the ordinary 
 fortunes of a private man ; and they concluded, 
 that a person of such opulence would not, at a late 
 period of life, expose himself to dangers, without 
 a fair prospect of success, and the certain support 
 of friends. After the usual prayers and libations 
 the moon was eclipsed. This was nothing strange 
 to Dion, who knew the variations of the ecliptic, 
 and that this defection of the moon’s light was 
 caused by the interposition of the earth between 
 her and the sun. But as the soldiers were 
 troubled about it, Miltas, the diviner, took upon 
 him to give it a proper turn, and assured them, 
 that it portended the sudden obscurity of some- 
 thing that was at present glorious ; that this 
 glorious object could be no other than Dionysius, 
 whose lustre would be extinguished on their 
 arrival in Sicil}’'. This interpretation he com- 
 municated in as public a manner as possible : but 
 from the prodigy of bees,* * a swarm of which 
 settled on the stern of Dion’s ship, he intimated 
 to his friends his apprehensions that the great 
 affairs, which Dion was then prosecuting, after 
 flourishing a while, would come to nothing. 
 Dionysius too, they said, had many prodigies on 
 this occasion. An eagle snatched a javelin from 
 one of his guards, and, after flying aloft with it, 
 dropped it in the sea. The waters of the sea, at 
 the foot of the citadel, were fresh for one whole 
 day, as plainly appeared to every one that tasted 
 them. He had pigs farrowed perfect in all their 
 other parts, but without ears. The diviners 
 interpreted this as an omen of rebellion and 
 revolt : the people, they said, would no longer 
 give ear to the mandates of the tyrant. The 
 freshness of the sea water imported, that the 
 Syracusans, after their harsh and severe treat- 
 ment, would enjoy milder and better times. The 
 eagle was the minister of Jove, and the javelin an 
 ensign of power and government : thus the father 
 of the gods had destined the overthrow and 
 abolition of the t3’-ranny. These things we have 
 from Theopompus. 
 
 Dion’s soldiers were conveyed in two transports. 
 These were accompanied by another smaller ves- 
 sel, and two more of thirty oars. Beside the arms 
 of those who attended him, he took with him 2000 
 shields, a large quantity of darts and javelins, and 
 a considerable supply of provisions, that nothing 
 might be wanting in the expedition ; for they put 
 off to the main sea, because they did not think it 
 safe to coast it along, being informed that Philis- 
 tus was stationed off Japygia to watch their mo- 
 tions. Having sailed with a gentle wind about 
 
 Calend. Octob. /Egypto Spica, qnaiJi tenet virgo, 
 exoritur matutino, Etesitz que desimint. ibid. 1 . 
 xviii. cap. 31. Thus it seems, that they last 
 about two months (Pliny in another place says 
 forty days, 1. ii. chap. 47), and the relief of such 
 gales in that season is plainly providential. 
 Aristotle accounts for them from the convexity of 
 the earth. 
 
 * This superstition prevailed no less amongst 
 the Romans than amongst the Greeks. See the 
 Life of Brutus. 
 
 655 
 
 twelve days, on the thirteenth they arrived at 
 Pachynus, a promontory in Sicily. There the 
 pilot advised Dion to land his men immediately ; 
 for if they once doubled the cape, they might con- 
 tinue at sea a long time before they could have a 
 gale from the ^outh at that season of the year. 
 But Dion, who was afraid of making a descent too 
 near the enemy, and chose rather to make good 
 his landing in some remoter part of the island, 
 doubled the cape notwithstanding. They had not 
 sailed far before a strong gale from the north and 
 a high sea drove them quite off Sicily. At the 
 same time there was a violent storm of thunder 
 and lightning ; for it was about the rising of Arc- 
 turus ; and it was accompanied with such dreadful 
 rains, and the weather was, in every respect, so 
 tempestuous, that the affrighted sailors knew not 
 where they were, till they found themselves driven 
 by the violence of the storm to Cercina on the 
 coast of Africa. This craggy island was sur- 
 rounded with such dangerous rocks, that they 
 narrowly escaped being dashed to jneces ; but by 
 working hard with their poles they kept clear with 
 much difficult}'-, till the storm abated. They were 
 then informed by a vessel, w'hich accidentally 
 came up with them, that they were at the head of 
 what is called the Great Syrtis.* In this horrible 
 situation they were further disheartened by find- 
 ing themselves becalmed ; but, after beating about 
 for some time, a gale sprung up suddenly from 
 the south. On this unexpected change, as the 
 wind increased upon them, the}’- made all their 
 sail, and, imploring the assistance of the gods, 
 once more put off to sea in quest of Sicily. After 
 an easy passage of five days, they arrived at 
 Minoa, a small town in Sicily,! belonging to the 
 Carthaginians. Synalus,J a friend of Dion’s, was 
 then governor of the place, and as he knew not 
 that this little fleet belonged to Dion, he attempted 
 to prevent the landing of his men. The soldiers 
 leaped out of the vessels in arms, but killed none 
 that opposed them ; for Dion, on account of his 
 friendship w'ith Synalus, had forbidden them. 
 However, they ran in one body with the fugitives 
 into the town, and thus made themselves masters 
 of it. When Dion and the governor met, mutual 
 salutations passed between them, and the former 
 restored him to his town unhurt. Synalus, in 
 return, entertained his soldiers, and supplied him 
 with necessaries. 
 
 It happened that Dionysius, a little before this, 
 had sailed with eighty ships for Italy, and this 
 absence of his gave them no small encouragement. 
 Insomuch that when Dion invited his men to re- 
 fresh themselves for some time after their fatigues 
 at sea, they thought of nothing but making a proper 
 use of the present moment, and called upon him, 
 with one voice, to lead tliem to Syracuse: he, there- 
 fore, left his useless arms and baggage with Sy- 
 nalus, and, having engaged him to transmit them 
 to him at a proper opportunity, marched for Syra- 
 cuse. Two hundred of the Agrigentine cavalry, 
 who inhabited the country about Ecnomus, im- 
 mediately revolted, and joined him in his march, 
 and these w'ere followed by the inhabitants of 
 Gela. 
 
 The new's of his arrival soon reaching Syracuse ; 
 Timocrates, who had married Dion’s wife, and 
 
 * Not far from Tripoli, 
 t On the south coast, 
 j Diodorus calls him Pyralus. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 656 
 
 was appointed regent in the absence of Dionysius, 
 immediately despatched letters to acquaint him 
 with the event. In the meanwhile he applied 
 himself to prevent all tumults in the city, for the 
 people were greatly animated on the report of 
 Dion’s arrival, though the uncertainty they were 
 under as yet kept them quiet. A singular acci- 
 dent happened to the courier who was despatched 
 with letters for Dionysius. As he was passing 
 through the territory of Rhegium to Caulonia, 
 where the tyrant then was, he met an acquaint- 
 ance of his returning home with a newly offered 
 sacrifice, and having taken a little of the flesh for 
 his own use,* he made the best of his way. At 
 night, however, he found it necessary to take a 
 little rest, and retired to sleep in a wood by the 
 side of the road. A wolf, allured by the smell of 
 the flesh, came up while he was asleep, and carried 
 it off, together with the bag of letters to which it 
 was fastened. When the courier _ awaked, he 
 sought a long time to no purpose for his despatches, 
 and being determined not to face Dionysius with- 
 out them, he absconded. Thus it was a consider- 
 able time after, and from other hands, that Dio- 
 nysius was informed of Dion’s arrival in Sicily. 
 
 Dion, in his march, was joined by the Camari- 
 nseans, and many revolters from the territory of 
 Syracuse. The Leontines and Campanians, who, 
 with Timocrates, guarded the Epipolae, being mis- 
 led by a report designedly propagated by Dion, 
 that he intended to attack their cities first, quitted 
 their present station, and went to take care of 
 their own concerns. Dion being informed of this, 
 while he lay near Acrse, decamped in the night, 
 and came to the river Anapus, which is at the 
 distance of ten furlongs from the city. There he 
 halted, and sacrificed by the river, addressing his 
 prayers to the rising sun. The diviners informed 
 him that the gods gave a promise of victory, and 
 as he had him-self assumed a garland at the sacri- 
 fice, all that w'ere present immediately did the 
 same. He was now joined by about 5000, who 
 were, indeed, ill-furnished with arms ; but their 
 courage supplied that deficiency.! When he gave 
 orders to march. Liberty was the word, and they 
 rushed forward with the highest acclamations of 
 joy. The most considerable citizens of Syracuse, 
 dressed all in white, met him at the gates. The 
 populace fell with great fury on Dionysius’s party ; 
 but in particular they seized his spies, a set of 
 wretches hated by gods and men, who went about 
 the city to collect the sentiments of the inhabit- 
 ants, in order to communicate them to the tyrant. 
 These were the first that suffered, being knocked 
 down wherever they were met. When Timo- 
 crates found that he could not join the garrison in 
 the citadel, he fled on horseback out of the city, 
 and spread a general terror and dismay where he 
 passed : magnifying all the while the forces of 
 Dion, that it might not appear a slight effort, 
 against which he was unable to defend the place. 
 
 Dion now made his public entry into the town : 
 he was dressed in a magnificent suit of armour, 
 his brother Megacles marching on the right hand, 
 and Calippus the Athenian on the left, with gar- 
 
 * To carry home part of the victim, and to give 
 part of it to any person that the bearer met, were 
 acts of religion. 
 
 t Diodorus says he was soon joined by 20,000, 
 and that when he reached Syracuse, he had not 
 fewer than 50,000. 
 
 lands on their heads. He Was followed by 100 
 foreign soldiers, who were his body guard ; 
 and after these marched the rest of the army 
 in proper order, under the conduct of their 
 respective officers. The Syracusans looked upon 
 this procession as sacred. They considered it as 
 the triumphal entry of Liberty, which would once 
 more estaljlish the popular government, after a 
 suppression of forty-eight years. 
 
 ^ When Dion entered at the Menitidian gate, 
 silence was commanded by sound of trumpet, and 
 he ordered freedom to be proclaimed to the 
 Syracusans and the rest of the Sicilians, in the 
 name of Dion and Megacles, who came to abolish 
 tyranny. Being desirous to address the people 
 in a speech, he marched up to the Acradina. As 
 he passed through the streets, the people pre- 
 pared their victims on tables placed before their 
 doors, scattered flowers on his head, and offered 
 up their prayers to him as to their tutelar deity. 
 At the foot of the citadel, under the pentapylas, 
 there was a lofty sundial,’*' which had been placed 
 there by Dionysius. From the eminence of this 
 building he addressed the citizens, and exhorted 
 them earnestly to assert their liberties. The 
 people, in their turn, nominated Dion and his 
 brother praetors of the city, and, at their request, 
 appointed them twenty colleagues, half of whom 
 were of those who returned with Dion from exile. 
 
 At first it was considered by the soothsayers as 
 a good omen, that Dion, when he addressed the 
 people, had under his feet the stately edifice 
 which Dionysius had erected ; but upon reflection 
 that this edifice, on which he had been declared 
 general, was a sundial, they were apprehensive 
 that his present power and grandeur might be 
 subject to decline. 
 
 Dion, in the next place, took the castle of 
 Epipolse, released the prisoners who were con- 
 fined there, and invested it with a strong wall. 
 Seven days after this event, Dionysius arrived 
 from Italy, and entered the citadel from the sea. 
 Dion, at the same time, received from Synalus 
 the arms and ammunition he had left with him. 
 These he distributed amongst the citizens, as far 
 as they would go ; the rest armed themselves as 
 well as they were able ; and all expressed the 
 utmost alacrity for the service. Dionysius, at 
 first sent agents in a private manner to Dion, to 
 try what terms might be made with them. Dion 
 refused to hear any overtures in private. The 
 Syracusans, he told them, were now a free 
 people ; and what they had to offer must be ad- 
 dressed to them in public. Upon this they made 
 specious proposals to the citizens, promised them 
 an abatement of their taxes, and an exemption 
 from serving in the wars, even though those wars 
 should be undertaken by their own approbation. 
 The Syracusans held these proposals in derision ; 
 and Dion answered, that it would be in vain for 
 Dionysius to speak of terms without resigning, ip 
 the first place, the regal government ; and that if 
 he took this measure, he might depend on all the 
 good offices so near a relation might be inclined 
 to do him ; at least in everything that was just 
 and reasonable. Dionysius seemed to consent to 
 
 * Pherecydes was the first who invented dials 
 to mark the hour of the day, about 300 years 
 after the time of Homer. But before his time the 
 Phoenicians had contrived a dial in the isle of 
 Scyros, which described the solstices. 
 
DION. . 657 
 
 these terms ; and again sent his agents to desire 
 that a deputation of the Syracusans would attend 
 him in the citadel, in order to settle articles for 
 the public tranquility. He assured them that he 
 had such to offer them as they could not but 
 accept ; and that, on the other hand, he was 
 equally willing to come into such as they had to 
 offer him. Dion, therefore, selected a number of 
 the citizens for this deputation ; and the general 
 report from the citadel was, that Dionysius would 
 resign his authority in a voluntary manner. 
 
 This, however, was no more than a stratagem 
 to amuse the Syracusans. The deputies no sooner 
 arrived than they were imprisoned ; and early 
 next morning, after he had plied the merce- 
 naries with wine, he ordered them to sally out 
 and attack the wall which had been built by 
 Dion. This unexpected assault was carried on 
 with great vigour by the barbarians. They broke 
 through the works, and falling with great im- 
 petuosity, and loud shouts, on the Syracusans, 
 .soon put them to flight. Dion’s foreign troops 
 took the alarm, and hastened to their relief; 
 but the precipitate flight of the citizens disordered 
 their ranks, and rendered it difficult for them to 
 give any effectual assistance. Dion perceiving 
 that in this tumult, his orders could not be heard, 
 instructed them by his example, and charged the 
 thickest of the enemy. The battle, where he 
 fought in person, was fierce and bloody. He was 
 known to the enemy as well as to his own party ; 
 and they rushed with the utmost violence to the 
 quarter where he fought. His age, indeed, 
 rendered him unfit for such an engagement, but 
 he maintained the fight with great vigour, and 
 cut in pieces many of the enemy that attacked 
 him. At length he was wounded in the head with 
 a lance ; his shield was pierced through in many 
 places with the darts and spears that were levelled 
 against him ; and his armour no longer resisting 
 the blows he received in this close engagement, 
 he fell to the ground. He was immediately 
 carried off by his soldiers, and leaving the com- 
 mand to Timonides, he rode about the city to 
 rally the fugitives. Soon after, he brought a 
 detachment of foreign soldiers, which he had left 
 to guard the Acradina, as a fresh reserve against 
 the enemy. This, hov/ever, was unnecessary. 
 They had placed their whole hopes of retaking 
 the city in their first sally, and finding so power- 
 ful a resistance, fatigued with the action, they 
 retreated into the citadel. As soon as they began 
 to fall back, the Greek soldiers bore hard upon 
 them, and pursued them to the walls. Dion lost 
 seventy-four men, and a very great number of 
 the enemy fell in this action. The victory was so 
 important that the Syracusans rewarded each of 
 the foreign soldiers with 100 minse, and Dion was 
 presented by his army with a crown of gold. 
 
 Soon after this, messengers came from Diony- 
 sius with letters to Dion from the women of his 
 family. Besides these, there was one inscribed 
 “ Hipparinus to his father Dion.” For this was 
 the name of Dion’s son. Timaeus says, indeed, 
 that he was called Aretaeus, from his mother 
 Arete ; but I think credit is rather to be given to 
 Timonides, who was his friend and fellow soldier. 
 The rest of the letters, which were read openly 
 before the Syracusans, contained various solici- 
 tations and entreaties from the women. The 
 letter which appeared to come from Hipparinus, 
 the people, out of respect to the father, would 
 
 not have suffered to be opened in public ; but 
 Dion insisted that it should be so. It proved to 
 be a letter from Dionysius himself, directed 
 indeed to Dion, but in reality addressed to the 
 people of Syracuse ; for though it carried the air 
 of request and apology, it* had an obvious ten- 
 dency to render Dion obnoxious to the citizens. 
 He reminded him of the zeal he had formerly 
 shown for hi.s service ; he threatened him through 
 his dearest connections, his sister, his son, and his 
 wife ; and his menaces were followed by the most 
 passionate entreaties, and the most abject lamen- 
 tations. But the most trying part of his address 
 was that where he entreated Dion not to destroy 
 the government, and give that freedom to his 
 inveterate enemies by means of which they would 
 prosecute him to death, but to retain the regal 
 power himself, for the protection of his family 
 and friends. 
 
 This letter did not produce those sentiments in 
 the people which it should naturally have done. 
 Instead of exciting admiration of that noble 
 firmness and magnanimity, which could prefer the 
 public utility to the tenderest private connections, 
 it occasioned jealousies and fears. The people 
 saw, or thought they saw, that Dion was under 
 an absolute necessity of being favourable to 
 Dionysius. They already began to wish for 
 another general, and it was with peculiar satis- 
 faction they heard of the arrival of Heraclides. 
 This Heraclides who had been banished by the 
 tyrant, had once a distinguished command in the 
 army, and was a man of considerable military abili- 
 ties, but irresolute, inconstant, and particularly 
 unsteady when he had a colleague in command. 
 He had, some time before, had a difference with 
 Dion in Peloponnesus, and therefore resolved on 
 his own strength to make war on Dionysius. 
 When he arrived at Syracuse, he found the tyrant 
 close besieged, and the Syracusans elated with 
 their success. His first object, therefore, was to 
 court the people, and for this purpose he had all 
 the necessary talents ; an insinuating address, 
 and that kind of flattery which is so grateful to 
 the multitude. This business was the more easy 
 to him, as the forbidding gravity of Dion was 
 thought too haughty for a popular state : besides, 
 the Syracusans, already insolent with success, 
 assumed the spirit of a free people, though they 
 had not, in reality, their freedom. Thus they 
 convened themselves without any summons, and 
 appointed Heraclides their admiral : indeed, 
 
 when Dion remonstrated against that proceed- 
 ing, and showed them that by thus constituting 
 Heraclides admiral, they superseded the office 
 of general, which they had before conferred 
 on him, with some reluctance they deprived 
 Heraclides of the commission they had given 
 him. When this affair was settled, Dion in- 
 vited Heraclides to his house, and gently expos- 
 tulated with him on the impropriety of attending 
 to a punctilio of honour, at a time when the least 
 inattention to the common cause might be the 
 ruin of the whole. He then called an assembly, 
 appointed Heraclides admiral, and prevailed wit.h 
 the citizens to allow him such a guard as they had 
 before granted to himself. Heraclides treated 
 Dion with all the appearance of respect, acknow- 
 ledged his obligations to him, and seemed 
 attentive to his commands ; but in private he 
 corrupted the people, and encouraged a spirit of 
 mutiny and dissatisfaction ; so that Dion was 
 
 2 U 
 
658 
 
 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 
 
 involved in continual disturbances and disquiet. 
 If he advised that Dionysius should be permitted 
 to make his retreat in safety, he was censured as 
 designing to favour and protect him ; if, to avoid 
 those suspicions, he was for continuing the sief:e, 
 he was accused of protracting the war, that he 
 might the longer retain his command, and keep 
 the citizens in subjection. 
 
 There was in the city one Sosis, infamous for 
 his insolence and villainy, who thought the per- 
 fection of liberty was the licentiousness of speech. 
 This fellow openly attacked Dion, and told the 
 people in public assembly, that they had only 
 changed the inattention of a drunken and dis- 
 solute tyrant, for the crafty vigilance of a sober 
 master. Immediately after this, he left the as- 
 sembly, and next day was running naked through 
 the streets, as if from somebody that pursued 
 him, with his head and face covered with blood. 
 In this condition he ran into the market-place, 
 and told the people that'he had been assaulted by 
 Dion’s foreign soldiers ; at the same time showing 
 them a wound in his head, which, he said, they 
 had given him. Dion, upon this, was generally 
 condemned, and accused of silencing the people 
 by sanguinary methods : he came, however, before 
 this irregular and tumultuous assembly in his own 
 vindication, and made it appear, that this Sosis was 
 brother to one of Dionysius’s guards, and that he 
 had been engaged by him to raise a tumult in the 
 city ; the only resource the tyrant had now left, 
 being that of exciting dissensions amongst the 
 people. The surgeons also, who examined the 
 wound, found that it was not occasioned by any 
 violent blow. The wounds made by weapons are 
 generally deepest in the middle ; but this was 
 both superficial, and of an equal depth from one 
 end to the other ; besides, being discontinuous, it 
 did not appear to be the effect of one incision, 
 but to have been made at different times, probably 
 as he was best able to endure the pain. At the 
 same time there were some who deposed, that 
 having seen Sosis running naked and wounded, 
 and being informed by him, that he was flying 
 from the pursuit of Dion’s foreign soldiers, who 
 had just then wounded him, they hasted to take 
 the pursuers ; that, however, they could meet 
 with no such persons, but found a razor lying 
 under a hollow stone near the place from whence 
 they had observed him come. All these circum- 
 stances made strongly against him : but when his 
 own servants gave evidence, that he went out of 
 his house alone before daylight, with a razor in 
 his hand, Dion’s accusers withdrew.^ The people, 
 by a general vote, condemned Sosis to die, and 
 were once more reconciled to Dion. 
 
 Nevertheless their jealousy of his soldiers re- 
 mained. And as the war was now principally 
 carried on by sea, Philistus being come to the 
 support of Dionysius, with a considerable _ fleet 
 from Japygia, they did not see the necessity of 
 retaining in their service those Greeks who were 
 no seamen, and must_ depend for protection on 
 the naval force. Their confidence in their own 
 strength was likewise greatly increased by an 
 advantage they had gained at sea against Phi- 
 listus, whom they used in a very barbarous 
 manner. Ephorus relates, that, after^ his ship 
 was taken, he slew himself. But Timonides, who 
 attended Dion from the beginning of the war, 
 writing to Speusippus the philosopher, gives 
 the story thus. Philistus’s galley having run 
 
 aground, he was taken prisoner alive ; and after 
 being disarmed and stripped, was exposed naked, 
 though an old man, to every kind of insult. 
 They afterwards cut off his head, and ordered 
 their children to drag his body through the 
 Acradina, and throw it into the quarry. Timseus 
 represents the indignity offered his remains to be 
 still greater. The boys, he says, tied a rope 
 about his lame leg, and so dragged him through 
 the city, the Syracusans, in the meanwhile, in- 
 sulting over his carcase, when they saw kzm tied 
 by the leg who had said, “It would ill become 
 Dionysius to fly from his throne by the swiftness 
 of his horse, which he ought never to quit till he 
 was dragged from it by^ the heels.’’ Philistus, 
 however, tells us, that this was not said to Diony- 
 sius by himself, but by another. It is plain, at 
 the same time, that Timseus takes every occa- 
 sion, from Philistus’s known adherence to arbi- 
 trary power, to load him with the keenest re- 
 proaches. Those whom he injured are in some 
 degree excusable, if, in their resentment, they 
 treated him with indignities after death. But 
 wherefore should his biographers, whom he never 
 injured, and who have had the benefit of his 
 works ; wherefore should they exhibit him with 
 all the exaggerations of scurrility, in those scenes 
 of distress to which fortune sometimes reduces 
 the best of men ? On the other hand, Ephorus is 
 no less extravagant in his encomiums on Philis- 
 tus. He knows well how to throw into shades 
 the foibles of the human character, and to give 
 an air of plausibility to the most indefensible 
 conduct ; but, with all his eloquence, with all his 
 art, he cannot rescue Philistus from the imputa- 
 tion of being the most strenuous assertor of arbi- 
 trary power, of being the fondest follower and 
 admirer of the luxury, the magnificence, the 
 alliance of tyrants. Upon the whole, he who 
 neither defends the principles of Philistus, nor 
 insults over his misfortunes, will best discharge 
 the duty of the historian. 
 
 After the death of Philistus, Dionysius offered 
 to surrender the citadel to Dion, together with 
 the arms, provisions, and soldiers, and an ad- 
 vance of five months’ pay, on condition that 
 he might be permitted to retire into Italy, and 
 there enjoy the revenue of Gyata, a fruitful tract 
 of country in the territory of Syracuse, reaching 
 from the sea to the middle of the country. Dion 
 refusing to negotiate on his own account, referred 
 the ambassadors to the Syracusans ; and as they 
 expected that Dionysius would shortly come 
 alive into their hands, they were dismissed with- 
 out audience. Upon this, the tyrant, leaving his 
 eldest son Apollocrates to defend the citadel, em- 
 barked with his most valuable treasures and a 
 few select friends, and, sailing with a fair wind, 
 escaped Heraclides the admiral. 
 
 The tyrant’s escape, greatly exasperated the 
 people against Heraclides ; and, in order to 
 appease them, he proposed by Hippo, one of the 
 orators, that there should be an equal division of 
 lands j alleging, that equality was the first foun- 
 dation of civil liberty, and that poverty and 
 slavery were sj^nonymous terms. At the same 
 time that he supported Hippo in the promotion of 
 this scheme, he encouraged the faction against 
 Dion, who opposed it. At length he prevailed 
 with the people not only to pass this law, but 
 to make a decree, that the pay of the foreign 
 soliers should be stopped, and new commanders 
 
DION. 6^g 
 
 chosen, that they might no longer be subject tc 
 the_ severe discipline of Dion. Thus, like the 
 patient, who, after a lingering sickness, makes 
 too rash a use of the first returns of health, and 
 rejects the sober and gradual regimen of his phy- 
 sician, the citizens, who had long laboured under 
 the yoke of slavery, took too precipitate steps to 
 freedom, and refused the salutary counsels and 
 conduct of their deliverer. 
 
 It was about the midst of summer when the 
 assembly was summoned for the election of new 
 officers ; and, for the space of fifteen days, there 
 were the most dreadful thunders, and the most 
 alarming prodigies. The religious fears that 
 these prodigies excited made these people decline 
 the choosing of officers. When the weather grew 
 more serene, the orators again exhorted them to 
 proceed to the business ; but no sooner had they 
 begun, than a draught ox, which had neither 
 received any provocation from the driver, nor 
 could be terrified by the crowds and noise to 
 which he had been accustomed, suddenly broke 
 from his yoke, and running furiously into the 
 assembly, drove the people in great disorder 
 before him : from thence, throwing down all that 
 stood in his way, he ran over that part of the city 
 which afterwards fell into the enemy’s hands. 
 The Syracusans, however, regardless of these 
 things, elected five and twenty officers, among 
 whom was Heraclides. At the same time they 
 privately endeavoured to draw off Dion’s men ; 
 promising, if they would desert him, to make 
 them citizens of Syracuse. But the soldiers were 
 faithful to their general, and placing him in the 
 middle of a battalion, marched out of the city. 
 They did not, on this occasion, offer any violence 
 to the inhabitants, but they severely reproached 
 them for their baseness and ingratitude. The 
 smallness of their number, and their declining to 
 act offensively, put the citizens on the view of 
 cutting them off before they escaped out of the 
 city ; and with this design they fell upon their 
 rear, Dion was here in a great dilemma : he was 
 under the necessity either of fighting against his 
 countrymen, or of suffering himself and his faith- 
 ful soldiers to be cut in pieces. He therefore 
 entreated the Syracusans to desist : he stcetched 
 forth his hands to them, and pointed to the citadel 
 full of soldiers, who were happy in being spec- 
 tators of these dissensions amongst their enemies. 
 But the torrent of the populace, agitated and 
 driven forwards by the seditious breath of the 
 orators, was not to be stopped by persuasion. 
 Ble, therefore, commanded his men to advance 
 with shouts and clashing of arms, but not to 
 attack them. The Syracusans, upon this, fled 
 immediately through the streets, though no one 
 pursued them, for Dion retreated with his men 
 into the territories of the Leontines. 
 
 The very women laughed at the new officers 
 for this cowardly flight ; and the latter, to recover 
 their reputation, ordered the citizens to arms, 
 pursued Dion, and came up with him as he was 
 passing a river. A skirmish began between the 
 cavalry; but when they found Dion no longer 
 disposed to bear these indignities with his usual 
 paternal patience ; when they observed him draw- 
 ing up his men for battle, with all the eagerness 
 of strong resentment, they once more turned 
 their backs, and, with the loss of some few men, 
 fled to the city in a more disgraceful and more 
 cowardly manner than before. 
 
 * , Leontines received Dion in a very honour- 
 
 ; able manner, gave money to his soldiers, and 
 ‘ made them free of their city. They also sent 
 messengers^ to Syracuse with requisitions, that 
 his men might have justice done them, and re- 
 ceive their pay. The Syracusans, in return, sent 
 other messengers, with impeachments against 
 Dion but when the matter was debated at 
 Leontium, in full assembly of the allies, they 
 evidently appeared to be in fault. They refused, 
 nevertheless, to stand to the award of this as- 
 sembly ; for the recent recovery of their liberties 
 had. made them insolent, and the popular power 
 was without control ; their very commanders 
 being no more than servile dependents on the 
 multitude. 
 
 About this time, Dionysius sent a fleet under 
 Nypsius, the Neapolitan, with provisions and pay 
 for the garrison in the citadel. The Syracusans 
 overcame him, and took four of his ships ; but 
 they made an ill use of their success. Destitute 
 of all discipline, they celebrated the victory with 
 the most riotous extravagance ; and at a time 
 when they thought themselves secure of taking 
 the citadel, they lost the city. Nypsius observing 
 their disorder, their night revels and debauches, 
 in which their commanders, either from inclina- 
 tion, or through fear of offending them, were as 
 deeply engaged as themselves, took advantage 
 of this opportunity, broke through their walls, 
 and exposed the city to the violence and depre- 
 dation of his soldiers. 
 
 The Syracusans at once perceived their folly 
 and their misfortune : but the latter, in their 
 present confusion, was not easy to be redressed. 
 The soldiers made dreadful havoc in the city : 
 they demolished the fortifications, put the men 
 to the sword, and dragged the women and 
 children shrieking to the citadel. The Syracusan 
 officers being unable to separate the citizens from 
 the enemy, or to draw them up in any order, 
 gave up all for lost. In this situation, while the 
 Acradina itself was in danger of being taken, 
 they naturally turned their thoughts on Dion : 
 but none had the courage to mention a man 
 whom all had injured. In this emergency a 
 voice was heard from the cavalry of the allies, 
 crying, “ Send for Dion and his Peloponnesians 
 from Leontium.” His name was no sooner 
 mentioned than the people shouted for joy. 
 With tears they implored that he might once 
 more be at their head : they remembered his 
 intrepidity in the most tr>ung dangers : they 
 remembered the courage that he showed himself, 
 and the confidence with which he inspired them, 
 when he led them against the enemy. Archo- 
 nides and Telesides from the auxiliaries, and 
 Hellanicus, with four more from the cavalry, 
 were immediately despatched to Leontium, 
 where, making the best of their way, they ar- 
 rived in the close of the evening. They instantly 
 threw themselves at the feet of Dion, and related, 
 with tears, the deplorable condition of the Syra- 
 cusans. The Leontines and Peloponnesians soon 
 gathered about them, conjecturing from their 
 haste, and the manner of their address, that their 
 business had something extraordinary in it. 
 
 Dion immediately summoned an assembly, and 
 the people being soon collected, Archonides and 
 Hellanicus briefly related the distress of the 
 Syracusans, entreated the foreign soldiers to 
 forget the injuries they had done them, and once 
 
66o 
 
 PLUTARCH LI VPS, 
 
 more to assist that unfortunate people, who had 
 already suffered more for their ingratitude than 
 even they whom they had injured would have 
 inflicted upon them* When they had thus 
 spoken, a profound silence ensued ; upon which 
 Dion arose, and attempted to speak, but was 
 prevented by his tears. His soldiers, who were 
 greatly affected with their general’s sorrow, 
 entreated him to moderate his grief, and proceed. 
 After he had recovered himself a little, he spoke 
 to the following purpose : “ Peloponnesians and 
 confederates, I have called you together, that 
 you may consult on your respective affairs. My 
 measures are taken : I cannot hesitate what to 
 do when Syracuse is perishing. If I cannot save 
 it, I will, at least, hasten thither, and fall beneath 
 the ruins of my country. For you, if you can 
 yet persuade yourselves to assist the most un- 
 fortunate and inconsiderate of men, it may be in 
 your power to save from destruction a city which 
 was the work of your own hands.* But if your 
 pity for the Syracusans be sacrificed to your 
 resentment, may the gods reward your fidelity, 
 your kindness to Dion ! and remember, that as 
 he would not desert you, when you were injured, 
 so neither could he abandon his falling country ! ” 
 
 He had hardly ended, when the soldiers sig- 
 nified their readiness for the service by loud 
 acclamations, and called upon him to march 
 directly to the relief of Syracuse. The mes- 
 sengers embraced them, and entreated the gods 
 to shower their blessings on Dion and the Pelo- 
 ponnesians. When the noise subsided, Dion 
 gave orders that the men should repair to their 
 quarters, and, after the necessary refreshments, 
 assemble in the same place completely armed ; 
 for he intended to march that very night. 
 
 The soldiers of Dionysius, after ravaging the 
 city during the whole day, retired at night, with 
 the loss of a few men, into' the citadel. This 
 small respite once more encouraged the dema- 
 gogues of the city, who presuming that the enemy 
 would not repeat their hostilities, dissuaded the 
 people from admitting Dion and his foreign 
 soldiers. They advised them not to give up the 
 honour of saving the city to strangers, but to 
 defend their liberty themselves. Upon this the 
 generals sent other messengers to Dion to 
 countermand his march ; while, on the^ other 
 hand, the cavalry and many of the principal 
 citizens sent their requests that he would hasten 
 it. Thus invited by one party, and rejected by 
 another, he came forward but slowly ; and, at 
 night, the faction that opposed him set a guard 
 upon the gates to prevent his entering. 
 
 Nypsius now made a fresh sally from the 
 citadel, with still greater numbers and greater 
 fury than before. After totally demolishing the 
 remaining part of the fortification, he fell to 
 ravaging the city. The slaughter was dreadful ; 
 men, women, and children fell indiscriminately 
 by the sword ; for the object of the enemy was 
 not so much plunder as destruction. Dionysius 
 despaired of regaining his lost empire, and, in his 
 mortal hatred of the Syracusans, he determined 
 to bury it in the ruins of their city. It was 
 resolved, therefore, that, before Dion’s succours 
 
 * Strabo says, that Syracuse was built in the 
 second year of the eleventh olympiad, by 
 Archias, one of the Heraclidae, who came from 
 Corinth to Syracuse. 
 
 could arrive, they should destroy it the quickest 
 way by laying it in ashes. Accordingly they set 
 fire to those parts that were at hand by brands 
 and torches ; and to the remoter parts by shoot- 
 ing flaming arrows. The citizens, in the utmost 
 consternation, fled everywhere before them. 
 Those who, to avoid the fire, had fled from their 
 houses, were put to the sword in the streets ; and 
 they who sought for refuge in their houses, were 
 again driven out by the flames ; many were 
 burned to death, and many perished beneath the 
 ruins of the houses. 
 
 This terrible distress, by universal consent, 
 opened the gates for Dion. After being informed 
 that the enemy had retreated into the citadel he 
 made no great haste. But early in the morning 
 some horsemen carried him the news of a fresh 
 assault. These were followed by some, even of 
 those who had recently opposed his coming, but 
 who now implored him to fly to their relief. 
 As the conflagration and destruction increased, 
 Heraclides despatched his brother, and after him 
 his uncle Theodotes, to entreat the assistance of 
 Dion ; for they were now no longer in a capacity 
 of opposing the enemy ; he was wounded him- 
 self, and great part of the city was laid in ashes. 
 
 ^ When Dion received this news he was about 
 sixty furlongs from the city. After he had ac- 
 .quainted his soldiers with the dreadful exigency, 
 and exhorted them to behave with resolution, 
 they no longer marched, but ran ; and in their 
 way they were met by numbers, who entreated 
 them, if possible, to go still faster. By the eager 
 and vigorous speed of the soldiers, Dion quickly 
 arrived at the city ; and, entering by the part 
 called Hecatompedon, he ordered his light troops 
 immediately to charge the enemy, that the Syra- 
 cusans might take courage at the sight of them. 
 In the meanwhile he drew up his heavy-armed 
 men, with such of the citizens as had joined him, 
 and divided them into several small bodies, of 
 greater depth than breadth, that he might in- 
 timidate the enemy by attacking them in several 
 quarters at once. He advanced to the engage- 
 ment at the head of his men, amidst a confused 
 noise of shouts, plaudits, prayers, and vows, 
 which tlie Syracusans offered up for their de- 
 liverer, their tutelary deity, for so they termed 
 him now ; and his foreign soldiers they called 
 their brethren and fellow-citizens. At this time, 
 perhaps, there was not one wretch so selfishly 
 fond of life that he did not hold Dion’s safety 
 dearer than his own, or that of his fellow-citizens, 
 while they saw him advancing first in the front of 
 danger, through blood and fire, and over heaps 
 of the slain. 
 
 There was, indeed, something terrible in the 
 appearance of the enemy, who, animated by rage 
 and despair, had posted themselves in the ruins 
 of the ramparts, so that it was extremely dan- 
 gerous and difficult to approach them. But the 
 apprehensions of fire discouraged Dion’s men 
 the most, and distressed them in their march. 
 They were surrounded by flames that raged on 
 every side, and while they walked over burning 
 ruins, through clouds of ashes and smoke, they 
 were every moment in danger of being burned 
 beneath the fall of half-consumed buildings. In 
 all these difficulties they took infinite pains to 
 keep close together, and maintain their ranks. 
 When they came up to the enemy, a few only 
 could engage at a time, on account of the narrow- 
 
DION. 
 
 66i 
 
 ness and inequality of the ground. They fought, 
 however, with great bravery, and, encouraged by 
 the acclamations of the citizens, at length they 
 routed Nypsius, and most of his men escaped 
 into the citadel, which was near at hand. Such 
 of them as were dispersed and could not get in, 
 were pursued and put to the sword. The present 
 deplorable state of the city afforded neither time 
 nor propriety for that joy and those congratula- 
 tions which usually follow victory. All were 
 busy in saving the remains of the conflagrations ; 
 and though they laboured hard during the whole 
 night, it was with great difficulty that the fire 
 was extinguished. 
 
 Not one orator of the popular faction durst 
 any longer remain in the city. By their flight 
 they at once confessed their guilt and avoided 
 punishment. Heraclides, however, and Theo- 
 dotes, surrendered themselves to Dion. They 
 acknowledged their error, and entreated that he 
 would not imitate them in the cruel treatment 
 they had shown him. They forgot not to add 
 how much it would be_ for his honour, who was 
 unequalled in other virtues, to restrain his re- 
 sentments ; and, by forgiving the ungrateful, to 
 testify that superiority of spirit for which they 
 had contended with him. His friends, however, 
 advised him by no means to pardon these factious 
 and invidious men, but to give them up to his 
 soldiers, and to rid the commonwealth of the 
 ambition of demagogues, no less destructive than 
 that of tyrants. Dion, on the other hand, en- 
 deavoured to mitigate their resentments. ‘‘ Other 
 generals,” said he, “ employ themselves chiefly in 
 military studies ; but, by being long conversant 
 in the academy, I have learned to subdue my 
 passions, and to restrain the impulses of enmity 
 and anger. To prove that I have really gained 
 such a victory over myself, it is not sufficient 
 merely to be kind to men of virtue, but to be 
 indulgent and reconcilable to the injurious. If 
 I have excelled Heraclides in military and 
 political abilities, I am resolved not to be inferior 
 to him in justice and clemency ; since to have 
 the advantage in those is the first degree of 
 excellence. The honours of conquest are never 
 wholly our own ; for though the conqueror may 
 stand unrivalled. Fortune will claim her share in 
 his success. . Heraclides may be treacherous, in- 
 vidious, and malicious ; but must Dion, therefore, 
 sully his glories by the indulgence of resentment? 
 The laws, indeed, allow the revenge of an injury 
 to be more justifiable than the commission of it ; 
 but both proceed originally from the infirmity of 
 human nature. Besides, there is hardly any 
 malignity so inveterate, that it may not be over- 
 come by kindness, and softened by repeated 
 favours.” Agreeably to these sentiments, Dion 
 pardoned Heraclides and dismissed him. 
 
 His first object was to repair the wall, which 
 he had formerly erected around the citadel ; and, 
 for this purpose, he ordered each of the citizens 
 to furnish a palisado, and bring it to the works. 
 When they had done this, he sent them to their 
 repose, and employed his own men the whole 
 night in drawing a line of circumvallation around 
 the citadel, which both the enemy and the citizens 
 were astonished to find completed in the morning. 
 
 After the dead were buried, and the prisoners, 
 to the amount of 2000, ransomed, he summoned 
 an assembly. Heraclides moved, that Dion 
 should be declared commander in chief both at 
 
 sea and land. This motion was approved by the 
 nobility, and the commons were desired to con- 
 firm it ; but the sailors and artificers opposed it 
 in a tumultuous manner. They were unwilling 
 that Heraclides should lose his command at sea ; 
 for though they had no good opinion of his prin- 
 ciples, they knew that he would be more indulgent 
 than Dion, and more ready to gratify their in- 
 clinations. Dion therefore gave up his point, 
 and agreed that Heraclides should continue 
 admiral. But when the equal distribution of 
 lands was moved for, he opposed it, and repealed 
 all the decrees which had formerly passed on the 
 measure, by which means he once more incurred 
 the displeasure of the people. Heraclides again 
 made his advantage of this, and harangued 
 the soldiers and sailors at IVIassana, accusing 
 Dion of a design to make himself absolute. At 
 the same time he privately corresponded with 
 Dionysius, by means of Pharax, a Spartan. 
 When the nobility got intelligence of this, there 
 was a sedition in the army, and the city was 
 greatly distressed by want of provisions. Dion 
 was now at a loss what measures to pursue ; and 
 all his friends condemned him for strengthening 
 the hands of so perverse and invidious a wretch 
 as Heraclides. 
 
 Pharax was encamped at Neopolis, in the 
 territory of Agrigentum ; and Dion drew out the 
 Syracusans, but not with an intent to engage 
 him till he found a convenient opportunity. ^ This 
 gave Heraclides and his seamen an occasion of 
 exclaiming, that he delayed fighting only that he 
 might the longer continue in command. He was 
 forced to action, therefore, contrary to his in- 
 clination, and was beaten. His loss, indeed, was 
 small, and his defeat was owing more to a mis- 
 understanding in his own army, than to the 
 superior courage of the enemy ; he therefore 
 resolved to renew the engagement, and, after 
 animating and encouraging his men to redeem 
 their lost credit, he drew them up in form of 
 battle. In the evening, however, he received 
 intelligence, that Heraclides was sailing for Syra- 
 cuse, with intent to possess himself of the city, 
 and to shut him out. Upon this he made a 
 draught of the bravest and most active of the 
 cavalry, and rode with such expedition that he 
 reached the city by nine in the morning, after 
 a march of 700 furlongs. Heraclides, though he 
 made all the sail he could, was too late, and he 
 therefore tacked about and stood out to sea. 
 While he was undetermined what course to steer, 
 he met Gsesilus the Spartan, who informed him, 
 that he was sent to command in chief in Sicily, 
 as Gylippus had done before. Heraclides imme- 
 diately accepted him, and boasted to his allies that 
 he had found in this Spartan an antidote to the 
 power of Dion. At the same time he sent a 
 herald to Syracuse, ordering the citizens to re- 
 ceive Gaesilus for their general. Dion answered, 
 that the Syracusans had already a sufficient 
 number of generals ; and that, if it were necessary 
 for them to have a Spartan, he was himself a 
 citizen of Sparta. 
 
 Gaesilus having now no hopes of the command, 
 waited upon Dion, and, by his mediation, recon- 
 ciled him to Heraclides. This reconciliation was 
 confirmed by the most solemn oaths, and Gaesilus 
 himself was guarantee of the treaty, and under- 
 took to punish Heraclides, in case of any future 
 breach of faith. The Syracusans upon this dis- 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 662 
 
 charged their iia\-y, as they found no advantage 
 from it equal to the expense of keeping it on foot, 
 and to those inconveniences it brought upon them, 
 by being a continual source of seditions. At the 
 same time they continued the siege, and invested 
 the city with another wall. As the besieged were 
 cut off from further supplies, when provisions 
 failed, the soldiers began to mutiny, so that 
 Apollocrates found himself under a necessity of 
 coming to terms with Dion, and offered to deliver 
 up the citadel to him, with all the arms and stores, 
 on condition that he might have five galleys, and 
 be permitted to retire in safety with his mother 
 and sisters. Dion granted his request, and with 
 these he sailed to Dionysius. He was no sooner 
 under sail than the whole city of Syracuse as- 
 sembled to behold the joyful sight. Their hearts 
 were so full of this interestuig event, that they 
 even expressed their anger against those who 
 were absent, and could not be witnesses with 
 what glory the sun that day rose upon Syracuse, 
 delivered at last from the chains of slavery. As 
 this flight of Dionysius was one of the most 
 memorable vicissitudes of fortune that is recorded 
 in history, and as no tyranny w'as ever more 
 effectually established than his, how great must 
 their joy and their self-complacency have been, 
 after they had destroyed it by such inconsiderable 
 means ! 
 
 When Apollocrates was gone, and Dion went 
 to take possession of the citadel, the women could 
 not wait till he entered, but ran to meet him at 
 the gate. Aristomache came first, leading Dion’s 
 son, and Arete followed her in tears, fearful and 
 apprehensive of meeting her husband, after she 
 had been so long in the possession of another. 
 Dion first embraced his sister, then his son ; after 
 which Aristomache presented Arete to him, vdth 
 this address : “Your banishment, Dion, made us 
 all equally miserable. Your return and your 
 success have made us all happy, except her whom 
 I had the misfortune to see, by cruel compulsion, 
 given to another, while you were yet alive. We 
 are now entirely in your disposal ; but how will 
 you determine concerning this unhappy woman ? 
 And how must she salute you ? As her uncle, or 
 as her husband?” Dion was affected by this 
 tender intercession and wept. He embraced 
 Arete with great affection, put his son into her 
 hands, and desired her to retire to his own house, 
 where he pmposed to reside ; for the city he 
 immediately delivered to the Syracusans. 
 
 All things had now succeeded to his wish : but 
 he, by no means, sought to reap the first advan- 
 tages of his good fortune. His first object was to 
 gratify his friends, to reward his allies, and to 
 give his fellow-citizens and foreign soldiers proper 
 marks of his favour, in which his munificence 
 even exceeded his abilities. As to himself, he 
 lived in a plain and frugal manner, which, on this 
 occasion, in particular, was universally admired. 
 For while the fame of his actions and the reputa- 
 tion of his valour was spread through Sicily and 
 Greece, he seemed rather to live with Plato on 
 the sparing^ simplicity of the academic life, than 
 among soldiers, who look upon every species of 
 luxury as a compensation for the toils and dangers 
 of war. Though Plato himself wrote to him, that 
 the eyes of the whole world were upon him, he 
 seems not to have carried his attentions beyond 
 one particular part of^ one city, the academy. 
 His judges in that society, he knew, would not 
 
 so much regard the greatness of his performances, 
 his courage, or his victories, as that temper of 
 mind with which he bore prosperity, and that 
 moderation with which he sustained his happier 
 fortunes. He did not in the least relax the 
 severity of his manners ; he kept the same reserve 
 to the people, though condescension was, at this 
 time, politically necessary ; and though Plato, as 
 we have already observed, had expostulated with 
 him on this account, and told him, that amterity 
 was the co7nJ>anion of soliUcde. He had certainly 
 a natural antipathy to complaisance ; and he had 
 moreover a design, by his own example, to reform 
 the manners of the Syracusans, which were be- 
 come vain, dissolute, and immodest. Heraclides 
 once more began to oppose him. Dion sent for 
 him to attend at the council ; and he made 
 answer, that he would not attend in any other 
 capacity than as a private citizen, at a public 
 assembly. Soon after this he impeached Dion of 
 declining to demolish the citadel, and of prevent- 
 ing the people from opening the tomb of Diony- 
 sius, and dragging out the body. He accused 
 him likewise of sending for counsellors and 
 ministers to Corinth, in contempt of his fellow- 
 citizens. And it is true that he bad engaged 
 some Corinthians to assist him in settling his 
 plan of government. His intention was to restrain 
 the unlimited power of the popular administration 
 (which cannot properly be called a government, 
 but, as Plato terms it, a warehouse of govern- 
 ments),* and to establish the constitution on the 
 Lacedaemonian and Cretan plan. This was a 
 mixture of the regal and popular governments, or 
 rather an aristocracy. Dion knew that the 
 Corinthians were governed chiefly by the nobility, 
 and that the influence of the people rather inter- 
 fered. He foresaw that Heraclides would be no 
 inconsiderable impediment to his scheme. Pie 
 knew him to be factious, turbulent, and incon- 
 stant ; and he therefore gave him up to those 
 who advised to kill him, though he had before 
 saved him out of their hands. Accordingly they 
 broke into his house, and murdered him. His 
 death was at first resented by the citizens ; but 
 when Dion gave him a magnificent funeral, at- 
 tended the dead body with hiS soldiers, and pro- 
 nounced an oration to the people, their resentment 
 went off. Indeed, they were sensible that the 
 city would never be at peace whilst the com- 
 petitions of Dion and Heraclides subsisted. 
 
 .Dion had a friend named Callippus, an Athe- 
 nian, with whom he first became acquainted, not 
 °n account of his literary merit, but, according 
 to Plato, because he happened to be introduced 
 by him to some religious mysteries. He had 
 always attended him in the army, and was in 
 great esteem. He was the first of his friends 
 who marched along with him into Syracuse with 
 a garland on his head, and he had distinguished 
 himself in every action. This man, finding that 
 Dion’s chief friends had fallen in the war ; that, 
 since the death of Heraclides the popular party 
 was without a leader, and that he himself stood 
 in great favour with the army, formed an exe- 
 crable design against the life of his benefactor. 
 His object \vas certainly the supreme command 
 in Sicily, though some say he was bribed to it 
 with twenty talents. For this purpose he drew 
 several of the soldiers into a conspiracy against 
 
 * Repub. 1. viii. 
 
DION. 
 
 663 
 
 Dion, and his plot was conducted in a most artful 
 manner. He constantly informed Dion of what 
 he heard, or pretended to hear, said against him 
 in the army. By this means he obtained such 
 confidence, that he was allowed to converse 
 privately with whom he thought proper, and 
 to speak with the utmost freedom against Dion, 
 that he might discover his secret enemies. Thus, 
 in a short time, he drew about him all the 
 seditious and discontented citizens ; and if any 
 one of different principles informed Dion that 
 his integrity had been tried, he gave himself 
 no concern about it, as that point had already 
 been settled with Callippus. 
 
 While this conspiracy was on foot, Dion had a 
 monstrous and dreadful apparition. As he was 
 meditating one evening alone in the portico be- 
 fore his house, he heard a sudden noise, and, 
 turning about, perceived (for it was not yet dark; 
 a woman of gigantic size at the end of the portico, 
 in the form of one of the furies,^ as they are 
 represented on the theatre, sweeping the floor 
 with a broom. In his terror and_ amazement he 
 sent for some of his friends, and, informing them 
 of this prodigy, desired they would stay with him 
 during the night. His mind \yas in the utmost dis- 
 order, and he was apprehensive, that, if they left 
 him, the spectre would appear again ; but he saw 
 it no more. Soon after this, his only son, who 
 was now almost grown up to manhood, upon 
 some childish displeasure, or frivolous affront, 
 threw himself from the top of the house, and was 
 killed upon the spot. 
 
 ' While Dion was in this distress, Callippus was 
 ripening the conspiracy ; and, for this purpose, 
 he propagated a report in Syracuse, that Dion, 
 being now childless, had determined to adopt 
 Apollocrates, the son of Dionysius, ^yho^ was 
 nephew to his wife, and grandson to his sister. 
 The plot, however, was now suspected both by 
 Dion, his wife, and sister. Dion, who had stained 
 his honour, and tarnished his glories, by the 
 murder of Heraclides, had, as we may suppose, 
 his anxieties on that account ; and he would 
 frequently declare, that rather than live, not only 
 in fear of his enemies, but in suspicion of his 
 friends, he would die a thousand deaths, and 
 freely open his bosom to the assassin. 
 
 When Callippus found the women inquisitive 
 and suspicious, he was afraid of the consequence, 
 and asserted, with tears, his own integrity, offer- 
 ing to give them any pledge of his fidelity they 
 might desire. They required that he would take 
 the great oath ; the form of which is as follows : 
 The person v/ho takes it goes down into the 
 temple of the Thesmophori, where, after the per- 
 formance of some religious ceremonies, he puts 
 on the purple robe of Proserpine, and, holding a 
 flaming torch in his hand, proceeds on the oath. 
 All this Callippus did without hesitation ; and to 
 show with what contempt he held the goddess, ' 
 he appointed the execution of his conspiracy on 
 the day of her festival. Indeed, he could hardly 
 think that even this would enhance his guilt, or 
 render him more obnoxious to the goddess, \yhen 
 he was the very person who had before initiated 
 Dion in her sacred mysteries. 
 
 The conspiracy was now supported by numbers ; 
 and as Dion was surrounded by his friends, in 
 the apartment where he usually entertained them. 
 
 the conspirators inv^ested the house, some secur- 
 ing the doors, and others the windows. The 
 assassins, who were Zacynthians, came in un- 
 armed, in their ordinary dress. Those who re- 
 mained without made fast the doors. The 
 Zacynthians fell upon Dion, and endeavoured 
 to strangle him ; but not succeeding in this, they 
 called for a sword. No one, however, durst open 
 the door, for Dion had many friends about him : 
 yet they had, in eflfect, nothing to fear from these ; 
 for each concluded, that, by giving up Dion, he 
 should consult his own safety. When they had 
 waited some time, Lycon, a Syracusan, put a 
 short sword through the window into the hands 
 of a Zacynthian, who fell upon Dion, already 
 stunned and senseless, and cut his throat like 
 a victim at the altar. His sister, and his wife, 
 who was pregnant, they imprisoned. In this 
 unhappy situation she fell in labour, and was 
 delivered of a son, whom they ventured to pre- 
 serve : for Callippus was too much embroiled by 
 his own affairs to attend to them, and the keepers 
 of the prison were prevailed on to connive at it. 
 
 After Dion was cut oflf, and Callippus had the 
 whole government of Syracuse in his hands, he 
 had the presumption to write to the Athenians, 
 whom, after the gods, he ought of all others to 
 have dreaded, polluted as he was with the murder 
 of his benefactor. But it has been observ'ed, 
 with great truth of that state, that its good men 
 are the .best, and its bad men the worst in the 
 world : as the soil of Attica produces the finest 
 honey and the most fatal poisons. The success 
 of Callippus did not long reproach the indulgence 
 of the gods. He soon received the punishment 
 he deserved ; for, in attempting to take Catana, 
 he lost Syracuse ; upon which occasion he said, 
 that he had lost a city, and got a cheese-grater.* 
 Afterwards, at the siege of Messana, most of his 
 men were cut off, and, amongst the rest, the 
 murderers of Dion. As he was refused admission 
 by every city in Sicily, and universally hated and 
 despised, he passed into Italy, and made himself 
 master of Rhegium ; but being no longer able to 
 maintain his soldiers, he was slain by Leptines 
 and Polyperchon with the \^xy same sword with 
 which Dion had been assassinated ; for it was 
 known by the size (being short, like the Spartan 
 swords) and by the curious workmanship. Thus 
 Callippus received the punishment due to his 
 crimes. 
 
 When Aristomache and Arete were released out 
 of prison, they were received by Icetes, a Syra- 
 cusan, a friend of Dion’s, who, for some time, 
 entertained them with hospitality and good faith. 
 Afterwards, however, being prevailed on by the 
 enemies of Dion, he put them on board a vessel, 
 under pretence of sending them to the Pelopon- 
 nesus ; but privately ordered the sailors to kill 
 them in the passage, and throw the bodies over- 
 board. Others say, that they and the infant were 
 thrown alive into the sea. This wretch too paid 
 the forfeit of his villainy : for he was put to 
 death by Timoleon ; and the Syracusans, to 
 revenge Dion, slew his two daughters : of which 
 I have made more particular mention in the Life 
 of Timoleon. 
 
 * But the word which signifies a cheese-grater 
 in Greek is not C'ltane^ but Patane. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 664 
 
 MARCUS 
 
 The great ancestor of Marcus Brutus was that 
 Junius Brutus to whom the ancient Romans 
 erected a statue of brass, and placed it in the 
 Capitol amongst their kings. He was represented 
 with a drawn sword in his hand, to signify the 
 spirit and firmness with which he vanquished 
 the Tarquins : but, hard tempered like the steel 
 of which that sword was composed, and in no 
 degree humanized by education, the same obdurate 
 severity which impelled him against the tyrant, 
 shut up his natural affection from his children, 
 when he found those children conspiring for 
 the support of t5?'ranny. On the contrary, that 
 Brutus, whose life we are now writing, had all the 
 advantages that arise from the cultivation of 
 philosophy. To his spirit, which was naturally 
 sedate and mild, he gave vigour and activity by 
 constant application. Upon the whole, he was 
 happily formed to virtue, both by nature and 
 education. Even the partisans of Caesar ascribed 
 to him everything that had the appearance of 
 honour or generosity in the conspiracy, and all 
 that was of a contrary complexion they laid to 
 the charge of Cassius ; who was, indeed, the 
 friend and relation of Brutus, but by no means 
 resembled him in the simplicity of his manners. 
 It is u-niversally allowed, that his mother, Servilia, 
 v/as descended from Servilius Ahala, who, when 
 Spurius Maelius seditiously aspired to the 
 monarchy, went up to him in the forum, under a 
 pretence of business, and, as Mselius inclined his 
 head to hear what he would 'say, stabbed him 
 with a dagger, which he had concealed for the 
 purpose.* But the partisans of Csesar would not 
 allow that he was descended from Junius Brutus, 
 whose family, they said, was extinct with his two 
 sons.t Marcus Brutus, according to them, was a 
 plebeian, descended from one Brutus, a steward, 
 of mean extraction ; and that the family had but 
 lately risen to any dignity in the state. On the 
 contrary, Posidonius the philosopher, agrees with 
 those historians, who say, that Junius Brutus had 
 a third son, who was an infant when his brothers 
 were put to death, and that Marcus Brutus was 
 descended from him. He further tells us, that 
 there were several illustrious persons of that 
 family in his time, with whom he was well 
 acquainted, and who very much resembled the 
 statue of Junius Brutus. | 
 
 Cato, the philosopher, was brother to Servilia, 
 the mother of Brutus, who greatly admired and 
 imitated the virtues of his uncle, and married his 
 daughter Porcia. 
 
 Brutus was acquainted with all the sects of the 
 
 * Livy, and other historians, relate this affair 
 differently. Some of them say confidently, that 
 Servilius, who was then general of the horse, put 
 Mselius to death by order of Cincinnatus the 
 dictator. 
 
 t Of this number is Dionysius of Halicarnassus. 
 t There were several distinguished persons of 
 this family in the A'-ear of Rome 558 : some of 
 whom opposed the abrogation of the Oppian law, 
 and were besieged by the Roman women in their 
 houses. Livy, 1 . xxxiv. Val. Max. l. ix. 
 
 BRUTUS. 
 
 Greek philosophers, and understood their doc- 
 trines ; but the Platonists stood highest in his 
 esteem. He had no great opinion either of the 
 new or of the middle academy ; but applied 
 himself wholly to the studies of the ancient. 
 Antiochus, of Ascalon, was therefore his favourite, 
 and he entertained his brother Ariston in his own 
 house ; a man, who, though inferior to some of 
 the philosophers in learning, was equal to the 
 first of them in modesty ,, prudence, and gentleness 
 of manners. Empylus, who likewise lived with 
 Brutus, as we find in his own epistles, and in 
 those of his friends, was an orator, and left a 
 short, but a well written narrative of the death of 
 Caesar, entitled titus. 
 
 Brutus spoke with great ability in Latin, both 
 in the field and at the bar. In Greek he affected 
 the sententious and laconic way. There are 
 several instances of this in his epistles. Thus, in 
 the beginning of the war, he wrote to the Perma- 
 genians. “ I hear you have given money to 
 Dolabella. If you gave it willingly, you must 
 own you injured me ; if unwillingly, show it by 
 giving willingly to me." Thus, on another occa- 
 sion, to the Samians. “Your deliberations are 
 tedious ; your actions slow ; what, think you, will 
 be the consequence ? " Of the Patareans thus : 
 “ The Xanthians rejected myikindness, and des- 
 perately made their country their grave. The 
 Patareans confided in me, and retained their 
 liberty. It is in your own choice to imitate the 
 prudence of the Patareans, or to suffer the fate of 
 the Xanthians." And such is the style of his 
 most remarkable letters. 
 
 While he was yet very young, he accompanied 
 Cato to Cyprus, in the expedition against Ptolemy. 
 After Ptolemy had killed himself, Cato, being de- 
 tained by business in the isle of Rhodes, sent 
 Caninius to secure the king’s treasure ; but sus- 
 pecting his fidelity, he wrote to Brutus to sail 
 immediately to Cyprus from Pamphylia ; where, 
 after[a fit of sickness, he stayed for the re-establish- 
 ment of his health. He obeyed the order with 
 reluctance, both out of respect to Caninius, who 
 was superseded with disgrace, and because he 
 thought the employment illiberal, and by no 
 means proper for a young man who was in pursuit 
 of philosophy. Nevertheless he executed the 
 commission with such diligence that he had the 
 approbation of Cato ; and having turned the 
 effects of Ptolemy into ready money, he brought 
 the greatest part of it to Rome. 
 
 When Rome was divided into two factions,’and 
 Pompey and Caesar were in arms against each 
 . other, it was generally believed that Brutus would 
 join Caesar, because his father had been put to 
 death by Pompey. However, he thought it his 
 duty to sacrifice his resentments to the interest of 
 his country; and judging Pompey’s to be the 
 better cause, he joined his party ; though before, 
 he would not even salute Pompey when he met 
 him ; esteeming it a crime to have any conversa- 
 tion with the murderer of his father. He now 
 looked upon him as the i^head of the common- 
 wealth ; and, therefore, listing under his banner, 
 he sailed for Sicily in quality of lieutenant to 
 
MARCUS BRUTUS. 66^ 
 
 Sestms, who was governor of the island. There, 
 however, he found no opportunity to distinguish 
 himself; and being informed that Pompey and 
 Caesar were encamped near each other, and pre- 
 paring for that battle on which the whole empire 
 depended, he went voluntarily into Macedonia to 
 have his share in the danger. Pompey, it is said, 
 was so much surprised and pleased with his 
 coming, that he rose to embrace him in the pre- 
 sence of his guards, and treated him with as much 
 respect as if he had been his superior. During 
 the time that he was in camp, those hours that he 
 did not spend with Pompey he employed in read- 
 ing and study ; and thus he passed the day before 
 the battle of Pharsalia. It was the middle of 
 summer,, the heats were intense, the marshy 
 situation of the camp disagreeable, and his tent- 
 bearers were long in coming. Nevertheless, 
 though extremely harassed and fatigued, he did 
 not anoint himself till noon ; and then, taking a 
 morsel of bread, while others were at rest, or 
 musing on the event of the ensuing day, he 
 employed himself till the evening in writing an 
 epitome of Polybius. 
 
 Caesar, it is said, had so high an esteem for him, 
 that he ordered his officers by all means to save 
 him, if he would surrender himself; and, if he 
 refused, to let him escape with his life. Some 
 have placed this kindness to the account of Ser- 
 vilia, the mother of Brutus, with whom Caesar 
 had connections of a tender nature in the early 
 part of his life.* Besides, as this amour was in 
 full blow about the time when Brutus was born, 
 Caesar had some reason to believe he might be his 
 son. The intrigue was notorious. When the 
 senate was debating on the dangerous conspiracy 
 of Catiline, Cato and Caesar, who took different 
 sides of the question, happened to sit near each 
 other. In the midst of the business, a note was 
 brought to Caesar from without, which he read 
 silently to himself. Cato, hereupon, loudly ac- 
 cused Caesar of receiving letters from the enemies 
 of the commonwealth ; and Caesar, finding that it 
 had occasioned a disturbance in the senate, 
 delivered the note to Cato as he had received it. 
 Cato, when he found it to be nothing but a lewd 
 letter from his own sister Servilia, threw it back 
 again to Caesar. “Take it, you sot,” said he, 
 and went on with the public business. 
 
 After the battle of Pharsalia, when Pompey 
 was fled towards the sea, and Caesar was storming 
 the camp, Brutus escaped through one of the 
 gates, and fled into a watery marsh, where he hid 
 himself amongst the reeds. From thence he ven- 
 tured out in the night, and got safe to Larissa. 
 From Larissa he wrote to Caesar, who expressed 
 the greatest pleasure in hearing of his safety, sent 
 for him, and entertained him amongst the first of 
 his friends. When no one could give account 
 which way Pompey was fled, Caesar walked for 
 some time alone with Brutus, to consult his 
 opinion ; and finding that it was for Egypt, he 
 
 rejected the opinions of the rest, and directed his 
 march for that country. Pompey had, indeed, 
 taken the route of Egypt, as Brutus conjectured ; 
 but he had already met his fate. 
 
 Brutus had so much influence with Cmsar that 
 he reconciled him to his friend Cassius ; and 
 when he spoke in behalf of the king of Africa, 
 mou^ there were many impeachments against 
 him, he obtained for him a great part of his king- 
 dom. When he first began to speak on this 
 occasion, Caesar said, “I know not what this 
 young man intends, but whatever it is, he intends 
 It strongly. * His mind was steady, and not 
 easily moved by entreaties. His principles were 
 honour, and virtue ; and the ends to 
 which these directed him he prosecuted with so 
 much vigour that he seldom failed of success. 
 No flattery could induce him to attend to unjust 
 petitions ; and though that ductility of mind which 
 may be wrought upon by the impudence of im- 
 portunity is by some called good nature, he 
 considered it as the greatest disgrace. He used 
 to say, that he suspected those who could refuse 
 no favours had not very honestly employed the 
 flower of their youth. 
 
 Caesar previously t 9 his expedition into Africa 
 against Cato and Scipio, appointed Brutus to the 
 government of Gallio Cisalpina. And this was 
 very fortunate for that particular province. For 
 whue the inhabitants of other provinces were 
 oppressed and treated like slaves, by the violence 
 arid rapacity of their governors, Brutus behaved 
 much kindness to the people under his 
 jurisdiction, that they were in some measure 
 indemnified for their former sufferings. Yet he 
 ascribed everything to the goodness of Caesar ; 
 and It was no small gratification to the latter to 
 find, on his return through Italy, not only Brutus 
 himself, but all the cities under his command, 
 ready to attend his progress, and industrious to 
 do him honour. 
 
 As there were several praetorships vacant, it was 
 the general opinion, that the chief o^them, which 
 is the prsetorship of the city, would be conferred 
 either on Brutus or on Cassius. Some say, that 
 this competition heightened the variance that had 
 already taken place between Brutus and Cassius ; 
 for there was a misunderstanding between them, 
 though Cs-Ssius was allied to Brutus by marrying 
 his sister Junia. Others say, that this competition 
 was a political manoeuvre of Caesar’s, who had 
 encouraged it by favouring both their hopes in 
 private. Be that as it may, Brutus had little 
 more than the reputation of his virtue to set 
 against the gallant actions performed by Cassius 
 in the Parthian war. Caesar weighed the merits 
 of each; and after consulting with his friends, 
 Cassius,” he said, “has the better title to it; 
 notwithstanding, Brutus must have the first prae- 
 torship.” Another praetorship was, therefore 
 ?iven to Cassius ; but he was not so much obliged 
 by this as offended by the loss of the first. Brutus 
 had or at least might have had, equal influence 
 with C^sar m everything else : he might have 
 stood the first in authority and interest, but he 
 was drawn off by Cassius’s party. Not that he 
 was perfectly reconciled to Cassius since the com- 
 petition for the praetorial appointments ; but he 
 
 * These connections were well known. Caesar 
 made her a present, on a certain occasion, of a 
 pearl which cost him near ;^5o,ooo. In the civil 
 wars he assigned to her a confiscated estate for a 
 mere trifle; and when the people expressed their 
 ^rprise at its cheapness, Cicero said humorously, 
 melius emptam sciatis, tertia deducta est. 
 lertia was a daughter of Servilia’s, and deducta 
 was a term in the procuring business. 
 
 * Plutarch must here be mistaken. It was 
 Diotarus and not the king of Africa, that Brutus 
 pleaded for. 
 
666 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 listened to his friends, who were perpetually ad*- 
 vising him not to be soothed or cajoled by Csesar ; 
 but to reject the civilities of a tyrant, whose object 
 was not to reward, but to disarm his virtue. On 
 the other hand, Caesar had his suspicions, and 
 Brutus his accusers ; yet the former thought he 
 had less to fear from his spirit, his authority, and 
 his connections, than he had to hope from his 
 honesty. When he was told that Antony and 
 Dolabella had some dangerous conspiracy on foot, 
 “ It is not,” said he, “ the sleek and fat men that 
 I fear, but the pale and the lean ; ” meaning 
 Brutus and Cassius. Afterwards, when he was 
 advised to beware of Brutus, he laid his hand 
 upon his breast, and said, “Do not you think, 
 then, that Brutus will wait till I have done with 
 this poor body?” As if he thought Brutus the 
 only proper person to succeed him in his immense 
 power. Indeed it is extremely probable that 
 Brutus would have been the first man in Rome, 
 could he have had patience awhile to be the 
 second, and have waited till time had 'W'asted the 
 power of Csesar, and dimmed the lustre of his 
 great actions. But Cassius, a man of violent 
 passions, and an enemy to Csesar, rather from 
 personal than political hatred, still urged him 
 against the dictator. It was universally said, 
 that Brutus hated the imperial power, artd that 
 Cassius hated the emperor. Cassius, indeed, 
 pretended that Csesar had injured him. He com- 
 plained that the lions which he had procured 
 when he was nominated sedile, and which he had 
 sent to Megara, Csesar had taken and converted 
 to his own use, having found them there when 
 that city was taken by Calanus. Those lions, it 
 is said, were very fatal to the inhabitants ; for as 
 soon as their city was taken, . they opened their 
 dens, and unchained them in the streets, that 
 that they might stop the irruption of the enemy : 
 but instead of that they fell upon the citizens, and 
 tore them in such a manner that their very ene- 
 mies were struck with horror. Some say that 
 this was th« principal motive with Cassius for 
 conspiring against Csesar ; but they are strangely 
 mistaken. Cassius had a natural aversion to the 
 whole race of tyrants, which he showed even when 
 he was at school with Faustus the son of Sylla. 
 When Faustus was boasting amongst the boys of 
 the unlimited power of his father, Cassius rose 
 and struck him on the face. The friends and 
 tutors of Faustus would have taken upon them- 
 selves to punish the insult ; but Pompey prevented 
 it, and sending for the boys, examined them 
 himself. Upon which Cassius said, “Come along, 
 Faustus ! repeat, if you dare, before Pompey, the 
 expressions which provoked me, that I may 
 punish you in the same manner.” Such was the 
 disposition of Cassius. 
 
 But Brutus was animated to this undertaking 
 by the persuasion of his friends, by private inti- 
 mations and anonymous letters. Under the statue 
 of his ancestor, who destroyed the Tarquins, was 
 placed a paper with these words: “O that we 
 had a Brutus now ! O that Brutus were now 
 alive ! ” His own tribunal on which he sat as 
 praetor, was continually filled with such inscrip- 
 tions as these : “ Brutus, thou sleepest ! Thou 
 art not a true Brutus ! ” The sycophants of 
 Caesar were the occasion of this ; for, amongst 
 other invidious distinctions which they paid him, 
 they crowned his statues by night, that the 
 people might salute him king, instead of dictator. 
 
 However, it had a contrary effect, as 1 have 
 shown more at large in the life of Caesar. 
 
 When Cassius solicited his friends to engage in 
 the conspiracy'-, they all consented, on condition 
 that Brutus would take the lead. They concluded 
 that it was not strength of hands, or resolution, 
 that they wanted, but_ the countenance of a man 
 of reputation, to preside at this sacrifice, and to 
 justify the deed. They were sensible that, with- 
 out him, they should neither proceed with spirit, 
 nor escape suspicion when they had effected their 
 purpose. The world, they knew, would conclude, 
 that if the action had been honourable, Brutus 
 would not have refused to engage in it. Cassius 
 having considered these things, determined to 
 pay Brutus the first visit after the quarrel that 
 had been between them ; and as soon as the com- 
 pliments of reconciliation were over, he asked 
 him, whether he intended to be in the senate 
 on the calends of March ; for it was reported, he 
 said, that Csesar’s friends designed to move that 
 he should be declared king. Brutus answered, 
 he should not be there ; and Cassius replied, 
 “ But what if they should send for us?” “It 
 would then,” said Brutus, “be my duty, not only 
 to speak against it, but to sacrifice my life for the 
 liberties of Rome.” Cassius, encouraged by this, 
 proceeded : “ But what Roman will bear to see 
 you die? Do not you know yourself, Brutus? 
 Think you that those inscriptions you found on 
 your tribunal were placed there by weavers and 
 victuallers, and not by the first men in Rome ? 
 From other prsetors they look for presents, and 
 shows, and gladiators ; but from you they expect 
 the abolition of tyranny, as a debt which your 
 family has entailed upon you. They are ready to 
 suffer everything on your account, if you are 
 really what you ought, and what they expect you 
 to be.” After this he embraced Brutus, and being 
 perfectly reconciled, they retired to their respec- 
 tive friends. 
 
 In Pompey’s party there was one Quintus 
 Ligarius, whom Csesar had pardoned, though he 
 had borne arms against him. This man, less 
 grateful for the pardon he had received than 
 offended with the power which made him stand 
 in need of it, hated Csesar, but was the intimate 
 friend of Brutus. The latter one day^ visited 
 him, and finding him not well, said, “O Ligarius ! 
 what a time is this to be sick ? ” Upon which he 
 raised himself on his elbow, and taking Brutus 
 by the hand, answered, “If Brutus has any 
 design worthy of himself, Ligarius is well.” 
 They now tried the inclinations of all they could 
 trust, and took into the conspiracy, not only their 
 familiar friends, but such as they knew to be 
 brave, and above the fear of death. For this 
 reason, though they had the greatest regard for 
 Cicero, and the utmost confidence in his prin- 
 ciples as a republican, they concealed^ the con- 
 spiracy from him, lest his natural timidity, and 
 the weariness of age, should retard those mea- 
 sures which required the most resolute despatch. 
 
 Brutus likewise thought proper to leave his 
 friends, Statilius and Favonius, the followers of 
 Cato, out of the conspiracy. He had tried their 
 sentiments, under the colour of a philosophical 
 dispute ; in which Favonius observed, that the 
 worst absolute government was preferable to a 
 civil war : and Statilius added, that it became no 
 wise man to expose himself to fear and danger, 
 on account of the faults and follies of others. 
 
MARCUS BRUTUS. 
 
 But Labeo, who was present. Contradicted both. 
 And Brutus, though he was then silent, as if the 
 dispute had been difficult to determine, after- 
 wards communicated the design to Labeo, who 
 readily concurred in it. It was then agreed to 
 gain over the other Brutus, surnamed Albinus, 
 who, though not distinguished by his personal 
 courage, was of consequence, on account of the 
 great number of gladiators he bred for the public 
 shows, and^ the entire confidence that Caesar 
 placed in him. To the solicitations of Cassius 
 and Labeo he made no answer ; but when he 
 came privately to Brutus, and found that he was 
 at the head of the conspiracy, he made no 
 scruple of joining them. The name of Brutus 
 drew in many more of the most considerable 
 persons of the state ; and though they had 
 entered into no oath of secrecy, they kept the 
 design so close, that, notwithstanding the gods 
 themselves denounced the event by a variety of 
 prodigies, no one would give credit to the con- 
 spiracy. 
 
 Brutus now felt his consequence lie heavy 
 upon him. The safety of some of the greatest 
 men in Rome^ depended on his conduct, and he 
 could not think of the danger they were to 
 encounter without anxiety. In public, indeed, 
 he suppressed his uneasiness : but at home, and 
 especially by night, he was not the same man. 
 Sometimes he would start from his sleep ; at 
 others, he was totally immersed in thought. 
 From which,_and the like circumstances, it was 
 obvious to his wife, that he was revolving in his 
 mind, some difficult and dangerous enterprise. 
 Porcia, as we before observed, was the daughter 
 orf" Cato. She was married to her cousin Bi'utus 
 very young, though she was a widow, and had a 
 son, named Bibulus, after his father. There is a 
 small tract of his still extant, called Me 77 toirs of 
 Brut7is. Porcia added to the affection of a wife 
 the prudence of a woman who was not unac- 
 quainted with philosophy ; and she resolved not 
 to inquire into her husband’s secrets before she 
 had made the following trial of her own firmness. 
 She ordered all her attendants out of her apart- 
 ment, 'and, with a small knife, gave herself a deep 
 wound in the thigh. This occasioned a great 
 effusion of blood, extreme pain, and a fever in 
 consequence of that pain. Brutus was extremely 
 afflicted for her, and as he attended her, in the 
 height of her pain, she thus spoke to him : 
 
 “ Brutus, when you married the daughter of 
 Cato, you did not, I presume, consider her merely 
 as a female companion, but as the partner of your 
 fortunes. You, indeed, have given me no reason 
 to repent my marriage : but what proof, either of 
 affection or fidelity, can you receive from me, if I 
 may neither share in your secret griefs nor in 
 your secret councils ! I am sensible that secrecy 
 is not the characteristic virtue of my sex : but 
 surely our natural weakness may be strengthened 
 by a_ virtuous education, and by honourable con- 
 nections ; and Porcia can boast that she is the 
 daughter of Cato, and the wife of Brutus. Yet 
 even in these distinctions I placed no absolute 
 confidence, till I tried and found that I was proof 
 against pain.” When she had said this, she 
 showed him her wound, and informed him of her 
 motives : upon which Brutus was so struck with 
 her magnanimity, that with lifted hands, he 
 entreated the gods to favour his enterprise, and 
 enable him to approve himself worthy of Porcia. 
 
 667 
 
 He then took every means to cure her wound, and 
 restore her health. 
 
 A meeting of the senate being appointed, at 
 which Caesar was expected to attend, that was 
 thought a proper time for the execution of their 
 design. For the7i they could not only appear 
 together without suspicion, but as some of the 
 most considerable persons in the commonwealth 
 would be present, they flattered themselves that, 
 as soon as the deed was done, they would join in 
 asserting the common liberty. The place, too, 
 where the senate was to meet seemed providen- 
 tially favourable for their purpose. It was a 
 portico adjoining to the theatre, and in the midst 
 of a saloon, furnished with benches, stood a statue 
 of Pompey, which had been erected to him by 
 the commonwealth, when he adorned that part of 
 the city with those buildings. Here the senate 
 was convened on the ides of hlarch ; and it 
 seemed as if some god should bring Caesar to this 
 place to revenge upon him the death of Pompey. 
 
 When the day came, Brutus went out, and 
 took with him a dagger, which last circumstance 
 was known only to his wife. The rest met at the 
 house of Cassius, and conducted his son, who 
 was that day to put on the toga virilis^ to the 
 for7a7i : from whence they proceeded to Pom- 
 pey ’s portico, and waited for Csesar. Any one 
 that had been privy to the design of the con- 
 spirators, would here have been astonished at 
 their calm and consistent firmness. Many of 
 them were praetors, and obliged by their office to 
 hear and determine causes. These they heard 
 with so much calmness, and decided with so 
 much accuracy, that one could not have supposed 
 there had been anything else upon their minds ; 
 and when a certain person appealed from the 
 judgment of Brutus to Caesar, Brutus, looking 
 round on the assembly, said, “ Caesar neither 
 does, nor shall hinder me from acting agreeably 
 to the laws.” Nevertheless they were disturbed 
 by many accidents. Though the day was far 
 spent, still Caesar did not come, being detained by 
 his wife and the soothsayers, on account of 
 defects in the sacrifices. In the mean time a per- 
 son came up to Casca, one of the conspirators, 
 and taking him by the hand, “You concealed the 
 thing from me,” said he, “but Brutus has told 
 me all.” Casca expressed his surprise; upon 
 which the other said, laughing, “How came you 
 to be so rich of a sudden, as to stand for the aedile- 
 ship ?” So near was the great secret being blown 
 by the ambiguity of this man’s discourse ! At the 
 same time Popilius Lsena, a senator, after .salut- 
 ing Brutus and Cassius in a very obliging 
 manner, said, in a whisper, “ My best wishes 
 are with you ; — but make no delay ; for it is now 
 no secret.” After saying this, he immediately 
 ^yent away, and left them in a great consterna- 
 tion ; for they concluded that everj^thing was 
 discovered. Soon after this a messenger came 
 running from Brutus’s house, and told him that 
 his wife was dying. Porcia had been under ex- 
 treme anxiety, and in great agitations about the 
 event. At every little noise or voice she heard, 
 she started up and ran to the door, like one of 
 the frantic priestesses of Bacchus, inquiring of 
 every ope that came from the fortc77i, what Brutus 
 was doing. She sent messenger after messenger 
 to make the same inquiries ; and being unable 
 any longer to support the agitations of her mind, 
 she at length fainted away. She had not time to 
 
66S 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 retire to her chamber. As she sat in the middle 
 of the house, her spirits failed, her colour 
 changed, and she lost her senses and her speech. 
 Her women shrieked, the neighbours ran to their 
 assistance, and a report was soon spread through 
 the city, that Porcia was dead. However, by 
 the care of those that were about her, she re- 
 covered in a little time. Brutus was greatly dis- 
 ti-essed with the news, and not without reason ; 
 but his private grief gave way to the public con- 
 cern : for it was now reported that Caesar was 
 coming in a litter. The ill omen of his sacrifices 
 had deterred him from entering on business of 
 importance, and he proposed to defer it under a 
 pretence of indisposition. As soon as he came 
 out of the litter, Popilius Laena, who a little 
 before had wished Brutus success, went up, and 
 spoke to him for a considerable time, Caesar all 
 the while standing, and_ seeming very attentive. 
 The conspirators not being able to hear what he 
 said, suspected, from what passed between him 
 and Brutus, that he was now making a discovery 
 of their design. This disconcerted them ex- 
 tremely, and looking upon each other, they 
 agreed, by the silent language of the counten- 
 ance, that they should not stay to be taken, but 
 despatch themselves. With this intent Cassius 
 and some others were just about to draw their 
 daggers from under their robes, when Brutus, 
 observing from the looks and gestures of Laena 
 that he was petitioning, and not accusing, en- 
 couraged Cassius by the cheerfulness of his 
 countenance. This was the only way by which 
 he could communicate his sentiments, being sur- 
 rounded by many who were strangers to the con- 
 spiracy. Laena, after a little while kissed Caesar’s 
 hand, and left him ; and it plainly appeared, upon 
 the whole, that he had been speaking about his 
 own affairs. 
 
 The senate was already seated, and the con- 
 spirators got close about Caesar’s chair, under 
 pretence of preferring a suit to him. Cassius 
 turned his face to Pompey’s statue, and invoked 
 it, as if it had been sensible of his prayers. Tre- 
 bonius kept Antony in conversation without the 
 court. And now Caesar entered, and the whole 
 senate rose to salute him. The conspirators 
 crowded around him, and set Tullius Cimber, 
 one of their number, to solicit the recall^ of his 
 brother, who was banished. They all united in 
 the solicitation, took hold of Caesar’s hand, and 
 kissed his head and his breast. He rejected 
 their applications, and finding that they would 
 not desist, at length rose from his seat in anger. 
 Tullius, upon this laid hold of his robe, and 
 pulled it from his shoulders. Casca, who stood 
 behind, gave him the first, though but a slight 
 wound with his dagger, near the shoulder. 
 Caesar caught the handle of the dagger, and said 
 in Latin, “ Villain ! Casca ! What dost thou 
 mean ? ” Casca, in Greek, called his brother to 
 his assistance. Caesar was wounded by numbers 
 almost at the same instant, and looked round 
 him for some way to escape ; but when he saw 
 the dagger of Brutus pointed against him, he let 
 go Casca’s hand, and covering his head with his 
 robe, resigned himself to their swords. The con- 
 spirators pressed so eagerly to stab him, that they 
 wounded each other. Brutus, in attempting to 
 have his share in the sacrifice, received a wound 
 in his hand, and all of them were covered with 
 blood. 
 
 i 
 
 Caesar thus slain, Brutus stepped forward into 
 the middle of the senate house, and proposing to 
 make a speech, desired the senators to stay. 
 They fled, however, with the utmost precipita- 
 tion, though no one pursued ; for the conspira- 
 tors had no design on any life but Caesar’s ; and, 
 that taken away, they invited the rest to liberty. 
 Indeed, all but Brutus were of opinion that 
 Antony should fall with Caesar. They con- 
 sidered him as an insolent man, who, in his 
 principles, favoured monarchy ; and who had 
 made himself popular in the army. Moreover, 
 beside his natural disposition to despotism, he 
 had at this time the consular power, and was the 
 colleague of Caesar. Brutus, on the other hand, 
 alleged the injustice of such a measure, and 
 suggested the possibility of Antony’s change^ of 
 principle. He thought it far from being im- 
 probable, that, after the destruction of Caesar, a 
 man so passionately fond of glory, should be in- 
 spired by an emulation to join in restoring the 
 commonwealth. Thus Antony was saved ; though, 
 in the general consternation, he fled in the dis- 
 guise of a plebeian. Brutus and his party be- 
 took themselves to the Capitol ; and showing 
 their bloody hands and naked swords, proclaimed 
 liberty to the people as they passed. At first all 
 was lamentation, distraction, and tumult : but as 
 no further violence was committed, the senators 
 and the people recovered their apprehensions, 
 and went in a body to the conspirators in the 
 Capitol. Brutus made a popular speech adapted 
 to the occasion ; and this being well received, 
 the conspirators were encouraged to come down 
 into the forum. The rest were undistinguished ; 
 but persons of the first quality attended Brutus, 
 conducted him with great honour from the Capi- 
 tol, and placed him in the rostrwn. At the 
 sight of Brutus, the populace, though disposed 
 to tumult, were struck with reverence : and 
 when he began to speak, they attended^ with 
 silence. It soon appeared, however, that it was 
 not the action, but the man, they respected ; for 
 when Cinna spoke, and accused Caesar, they 
 loaded him with the most opprobrious language ; 
 and became so outrageous that the conspirators 
 thought proper once more to retire into the Capi- 
 tol. Brutus now expected to be besieged, and 
 therefore dismissed the principal people that 
 attended him ; because he thought it unreason- 
 able that they who had no concern in the action 
 should be exposed to the danger that followed it. 
 Next day the senate assembled in the temple of 
 Tellus, and Antony, Plancus, and Cicero, in 
 their respective speeches, persuaded and pre- 
 vailed on the people to forget what was passed. 
 Accordingly the conspirators were not only par- 
 doned, but it was decreed that the consuls should 
 take into consideration what honours and dig- 
 nities were proper to be conferred upon them. 
 After this the senate broke up ; and Antony, 
 having sent his son as an hostage to the Capitol, 
 Brutus and his party came down, and mutual 
 compliments passed between them. Cassius was 
 invited to sup with Antony, Brutus with Lepidus, 
 and the rest were entertained by their respective 
 friends. . , , , , 
 
 Early next morning the senate assembled 
 again, and voted thanks to Antony for preventing 
 a civil war, as well as to Brutus and his party for 
 their services to the commonwealth. The latter 
 had also provinces distributed amongst them. 
 
MARCUS BRUTUS. 
 
 Crete was allotted to Brutus, Africa to Cassius, 
 Asia to Trebonius, Bithynia to Cimber, and the 
 other Brutus had that part of Gaul which lies 
 upon the Po. 
 
 Caesar’s will, and his funeral came next in ques- 
 tion. Antony proposed that the will should be 
 read in public ; and that the funeral should not 
 be private, or without proper magnificence, lest 
 such treatment should exasperate the people. 
 Cassius strongly opposed this ; but Brutus agreed 
 to it, and here he fell into a second error. His 
 preservation of so formidable an enemy as Antony 
 was a mistaken thing ; but his giving up the 
 nianagement of Caesar’s funeral to him was an 
 irreparable fault. The publication of the will 
 had an immediate tendency to inspire the people 
 with a passionate regret for the death of Caesar ; 
 for he had left to each Roman citizen seventy-five 
 drachmas, beside the public use of his gardens 
 beyond the Tyber, where now the temple of 
 Fortune stands. When the body was brought 
 into the foru7U, and Antony spoke the usual 
 funeral eulogium, as he perceived the people 
 affected by his speech, he endeavoured still more 
 to work upon their passions, by unfolding the 
 bloody garment of Caesar, showing them in how 
 many places it was pierced, and pointing out the 
 number of his wounds. This threw everything 
 into confusion. Some called aloud to kill the 
 murderers ; others, as was formerly done in the 
 case of that seditious demagogue Clodius, 
 snatched the benches and tables from the neigh- 
 bouring shops, and erected a pile for the body of 
 Caesar, in the midst of consecrated places and 
 surrounding temples. As soon as the pile was in 
 flames, the people, crowding from all parts, 
 snatched the half-burned brands, and ran round 
 the city to fire the houses of the conspirators ; but 
 they were on their guard against such an assault, 
 and prevented the effects. 
 
 There was a poet named Cinna, who had no 
 concern in the conspiracy, but was rather a friend 
 of Caesar’s. This man dreamed that Caesar in- 
 vited him to supper, and that, when he declined 
 the invitation, he took him by the hand, and 
 constrained him to follow him into a dark and 
 deep place, which he entered with the utmost 
 horror. The. agitation of his spirits threw him 
 into a fever, which lasted the remaining part of 
 the night. In the morning, however, when Caesar 
 was to be interred, he was ashamed of absenting 
 himself from the solemnity ; he, therefore, mingled 
 with the multitude that had just been enraged by 
 the speech of Antony ; and being unfortunately 
 mistaken for that Cinna, who had before inveighed 
 against Caesar, he was torn to pieces. This, more 
 than anything except Antony’s change of conduct, 
 alarmed Brutus and his party. They now thought 
 it necessary to consult their safety, and retire to 
 Antium. Here they sat down, with an intent to 
 return as soon as the popular fury should subside ; 
 and for this, considering the inconstancy of the 
 multitude, they concluded that they should not 
 have long to wait. The senate, moreover, was in 
 their interest ; and though they did not punish 
 the murderers of Cinna, they caused strict inquiry 
 to be made after those who attempted to bum the 
 houses of the conspirators. Antony too became 
 obnoxious to the people ; for they suspected him 
 of erecting another kind of monarchy. The 
 return of Brutus was, consequently, wished for ; 
 and, as he was to exhibit shows and games in his 
 
 capacity as praetor, it was expected. Brutus, 
 however, had received intelligence, that several 
 of Caesar’s old soldiers, to whom he had distri- 
 buted lands and colonies, had stolen, by small 
 pities, into Rome, and that they lay in wait for 
 him : he, therefore, did not think proper to come 
 himself ; notwithstanding which, the shows that 
 were exhibited on his account were extremely 
 magnificent : for he had bought a considerable 
 number of wild beasts, and ordered that they 
 should all be reserved for that purpose. He went 
 himself as far as Naples to collect a number of 
 comedians ; and being informed of one Canutius, 
 who was much admired upon the stage, he desired 
 his friends to use all their interest to bring him to 
 Rome. Canutius w'as a Grecian ; and Brutus, 
 therefore, thought that no compulsion should be 
 used. He wrote likewise to Cicero, and begged 
 that he would, by all means, be present at the 
 public shows. 
 
 Such was the situation of his affairs, when, on 
 the arrival of Octavius at Rome, things took 
 another turn. He was son to the sister of Caesar, 
 who had adopted and appointed him his heir. 
 He was pursuing his studies at Apollonia, and in 
 expectation of meeting Caesar there on his in- 
 tended expedition against the Parthians, at the 
 time when Cmsar was slain. Upon hearing of 
 this event, he immediately came to Rome, and, to 
 ingratiate himself with the people, assumed the 
 name of Caesar. By punctually distributing 
 amongst the citizens the money that was left them 
 by his uncle, he soon took the lead of Antony ; 
 and, by his liberality to the soldiers, he brought 
 over to his party the greatest number of those 
 who had served under Caesar. Cicero, likewise, 
 who hated Antony, joined his interest. And this 
 was so much resented by Brutus, that, in his 
 letters, he reproached him in the severest terms. 
 He perceived, he said, that Cicero was tame 
 enough to bear a tj-^rant, and was only afraid of 
 the tyrant that hated him ; that his compliments 
 to Octavius w'ere meant to purchase an easy 
 slavery : “ but our ancestors,” said Brutus, 
 
 “scorned to bear even a gentle master.” He 
 added that, as to the measures of peace, or war, 
 he was undetermined ; but in one thing he w’as 
 resolved, which was, “never to be a slave !” He 
 e.xpressed his surprise, that Cicero should prefer 
 an infamous accommodation even to the dangers 
 of civil w'ar ; and that the only fruits he e.xpected 
 from destroying the tyranny of Antony should be 
 the establishment of a new tyrant in Octavius. 
 Such was the spirit of his first letters. 
 
 The city was now divided into two factions ; 
 some joined Caesar, others remained with Antony, 
 and the army was sold to the best bidder. Bru- 
 tus, of course, despaired of any desirable event ; 
 and, being resolved to leave Italy, he went by 
 land to Lucania, and came to the maritime town 
 of Elea. Porcia, being to return from thence to 
 Rome, endeavoured, as well as possible, to con- 
 ceal the sorrow that oppressed her ; but, not- 
 withstanding her magnanimity, a picture which 
 she found there betrayed her distress. The sub- 
 ject was the parting of Hector and Andromache. 
 He was represented delivering his son Astyanax 
 into her arms, and the eyes of Andromache were 
 fixed upon him. The resemblance that this 
 picture bore to her own distress, made her burst 
 into tears the moment she beheld it ; and several 
 times she visited the melancholy emblem, to gaze 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 670 
 
 upon it, and weep before it. On this occasion 
 i?£:ilius, one of Brutus’s friends, repeated that 
 passage in Homer, where Andromache says — 
 
 Yet while my Hector still survives, I see 
 My father, mother, brethren, all in thee. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 To which Brutus replied, with a smile, “ But I 
 must not answer Porcia as Hector did Andro- 
 mache — 
 
 Hasten to thy tasks at home. 
 
 There guide the spindle and direct the loom. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 She has not personal strength, indeed, to sustain 
 the toils we undergo, but her spirit is not less 
 active in the cause of her country.” This anec- 
 dote we have from Bibulus, the son of Porcia. 
 
 From Elea Brutus sailed for Athens, where he 
 was received with high applause, and invested 
 with public honours. There he took up his resi- 
 dence with a particular friend, and attended the 
 lectures of Theomnestus the academic, and Bra- 
 tippus the peripatetic, devoting himself wholly to 
 literary pursuits. Yet in this unsuspected state 
 he was privately preparing for war. He de- 
 spatched Herostratus into Macedonia to gain the 
 principal officers in that province ; and he secured 
 by his kindness all the young Romans who were 
 students then at Athens. Amongst these was the 
 son of Cicero, on whom he bestowed the highest 
 encomiums ; and said, that he could never cease 
 admiring the spirit of that young man, who bore 
 such a mortal hatred to tyrants. 
 
 At length he began to act more publicly ; and 
 being informed that some of the Roman ships 
 laden with money, were returning from Asia, 
 under the command of a man of honour, a friend 
 of his, he met him at Carystus, a city of Euboea. 
 There he had a conference with him, and re- 
 quested that he would give up the ships. By- 
 the-by, it happened to be Brutus’s birthday, on 
 which occasion he gave a splendid entertainment, 
 and while they were drinking “ Victory to 
 Brutus,” and “ Liberty to Rome,” to encourage 
 the cause, he called for a larger bowl. While he 
 held it in his hand, without any visible relation 
 to the subject they were upon, he pronounced 
 this verse : 
 
 My fall was doom’d by Phc^bus and by Fate. 
 
 Some historians say, that Apollo was the word 
 he gave his soldiers in the last battle at Philippi ; 
 and, of course concluded, that this exclamation 
 was a presage of his defeat. Antistius, the com- 
 mander of the ships, gave him 500,000 drachmas 
 of the money he was carrying into Italy. The 
 remains of Pompey’s army that were scattered 
 about Thessaly, readily joined his standard ; and, 
 besides these, he took 500 horse, whom Cinna was 
 conducting to Dolabella in Asia. He then sailed 
 to Demetrias, and seized a large quantity of arms, 
 which Julius Csesar had provided for the Parthian 
 war, and which were now to be sent to Antony. 
 Macedonia was delivered up to him by Horten- 
 sius the praetor ; and all the neighbouring princes 
 readily offered their assistance. When news was 
 received that Caius, the brother of Antony, had 
 marched through Italy, to join the forces under 
 Gabinius in Dyrrhachium and Apollonia, Brutus 
 determined to seize them before he arrived, and 
 made a forced march with such troops as were at 
 
 hand. The way was rugged, and the snows were 
 deep ; but he moved with such expedition that 
 his suttlers were left a long way behind. When 
 he had almost reached Dyrrhachium, he was 
 seized with the disorder called BtUimiay or vio- 
 lent hunger, occasioned by cold and fatigue. 
 This disorder affects both men and cattle, after 
 fatigues in the snow. Vv^hether it is, that per- 
 spiration being prevented by the extreme cold, 
 the vital heat is confined, and more immediately 
 consumes the aliment ; or, that a keen and subtle 
 vapour rising from the melted snow, penetrates 
 the body, and destroys the heat by expelling^ it 
 through the pores ; for the sweatings seem to arise 
 from the heat contending with the cold, which 
 being repelled by the latter, the vapoury steam 
 is diffused over the surface of the body. But of 
 this I have treated more largely in another place. 
 Brutus growing very faint, and no provisions 1 
 being at hand, his servants were forced to go 
 to the gates of the enemy, and beg bread of the , 
 sentinels. When they were informed of the dis- 
 tress of Bratus, they brought him meat and drink 
 in their own hands ; and in return for their hu- , 
 manity, when he had taken the city, he showed , 
 kindness both to them and to the rest of the 
 inhabitants. 
 
 When Caius arrived in Apollonia, he summoned 
 the soldiers that were quartered near the city to join 
 him ; but finding that they were all with Brutus, 
 and suspecting that those in Apollonia favoured 
 the same party, he went to Buthrotus. Brutus, 
 however, found means to destroy three of hi^ 
 cohorts in their march. Caius, after this, at- 
 tempted to seize some posts near Byllis, but was 
 routed in a set battle by young Cicero, to whom 
 Brutus had given the command of the army on 
 that occasion, and whose conduct he made use 
 of frequently, and -wjith success. Caius was soon 
 afterwards surprised in a marsh, from whence he 
 had no means to escape ; and Brptus, finding 
 him in his power, surrounded him with his 
 cavalry, and gave orders that none of his men 
 should be killed ; for he expected that they would 
 quickly join him of their own accord. As he 
 expected, it came to pass. They surrendered 
 both themselves and their general, so that Brutus 
 had now a very respectable army. ^ He treated 
 Caius for a long time with all possible respect ; 
 nor did he divest him of pny ensigns of dignity 
 that he bore, although, it is said, he received 
 letters from several persons at Rome, and par- 
 ticularly from Cicero, advising him to put him 
 to death. At length, however, when_ he found 
 that he was secretly practising with his officers, 
 and exciting seditions amongst the soldiers, he 
 put him on board a ship, and kept him close pri- 
 soner. The soldiers that he had corrupted retired 
 into Apollonia, from whence they sent to Brutus, 
 that if he would come to them there, they would 
 return to their duty. Brutus answered, that this 
 was not the custom of the Remans, but that 
 those who had offended should come in person to 
 their general, and solicit his forgiveness. This 
 they did, and were accordingly pardoned. 
 
 He was now preparing to go into^ Asia, when 
 he was informed of a change in affairs at Rome. 
 Young Caesar, supported by the senate, had got 
 the better of Antony, and driven him out of Italy ; 
 but, at the same time, he began to be no less 
 formidable himself ; for he solicited the consul- 
 ship contrary to law, and kept in pay an unneces- 
 
MARCUS BRUTUS. 
 
 671 
 
 sary army. Consequently the senate, though 
 they at first supported, were now dissatisfied wdth 
 his measures. And as they began to cast their 
 eyes on Brutus, and decreed or confirmed several 
 provinces to him, Caesar was under some appre- 
 hensions. He therefore despatched messengers 
 to Antony, and desired that a reconciliation might 
 take place. After this he drew up his army 
 around the city, and carried the consulship, 
 though but a boy, in his twentieth year, as he 
 tells us in his commentaries. He was no sooner 
 consul than he ordered a judicial process to 
 issue against Brutus and his accomplices, for 
 murdering the first magistrate in Rome without 
 trial ox condemnation. Lucius Cornificius was 
 appointed to accuse Brutus, and Marcus Agrippa 
 accused Cassius ; neither of whom appearing, 
 the judges were obliged to pass sentence against 
 both. It is said, that when the crier, as usual, 
 cited Brutus to appear, the people could not 
 suppress their sighs; and persons of the first 
 distinction heard it in silent dejection. Publius 
 Silicius was observed to burst into tears; and 
 this was the cause why he was afterwards pro- 
 scribed. The triumviri, Caesar, Antony, and 
 Lepidus, being now reconciled, divided the pro- 
 vinces amongst them, and settled that list of 
 murder, in which 200 citizens, and Cicero amongst 
 the rest, were proscribed. 
 
 When the report of these proceedings was 
 brought into Macedonia, Brutus found himself 
 under a necessity of sending orders to Hortensius 
 to kill Caius, the brother of Antony, in revenge 
 of the death of Cicero, his friend, and Brutus 
 Albinus, his kinsman, who was slain. This was 
 the reason why Antony, when he had taken 
 Hortensius at the battle of Philippi, slew him 
 upon his brother’s tomb. Brutus says, that he 
 was more ashamed of the cause of Cicero’s death 
 than grieved at the event ; while he saw Rome 
 enslaved more by her own fault, than by the 
 fault of her tyrants, and continue a tame spectator 
 of such scenes as ought not to have been heard 
 of without horror. 
 
 The army of Brutus was now considerable, and 
 he ordered its route into Asia, while a fleet was 
 preparing in Bithynia and Cyzicum. As he 
 inarched by land, he settled the affairs of the 
 cities, and gave audience to the princes of those 
 countries through which he passed. He sent 
 orders to Cassius, who was in Syria, to give up 
 his intended journey into Egypt, and join him. 
 On this occasion he tells him, that their collecting 
 forces to destroy the tyrants was not to secure an 
 Empire tothemselves : but to deliver their fellow- 
 citizens ; that they should never forget this great 
 object of their undertaking, but, adhering to their 
 first intentions, keep Italy within their eye, and 
 hasten to rescue their country from oppression. 
 
 Cassius, accordingly, set out to join him, and 
 Brutus at the same time making some progress 
 to meet him, their interview was at Smyrna. 
 Till this meeting they had not seen each other 
 since they parted at the Piraeus of Athens, when 
 Cassius set out for Syria, and Brutus for Mace- 
 donia. The forces they had respectively collected 
 gave them great joy, and made them confident 
 of success. From Italy they had fled, like soli- 
 tary exiles, without money, without arms, with- 
 out a ship, a soldier, or a town to fly to. Yet 
 now, in so short a time, they found themselves 
 supplied with shipping and monej’-, with an army 
 
 of horse and foot, and in a condition of contend- 
 ing for the empire of Rome. Cassius vms no 
 less respectful to Brutus than Brutus was to 
 him ; but the latter would generally wait upon 
 him, as he was the older man, and of a feeble 
 constitution. Cassius was esteemed an able 
 soldier, but of a fiery disposition, and ambitious 
 to command rather by fear than affection : 
 though, at the same time, with his familiar ac- 
 quaintance, he was easy in his manners, and fond 
 of raillery to excess. Brutus, on account of his 
 virtue, was respected by the people, beloved by 
 his friends, admired by men of principle, and not 
 hated even by his enemies. He was mild in his 
 temper, and had a greatness of mind that was 
 superior to anger, avarice, and the love of 
 pleasure. He was firni and inflexible in his 
 opinions, and zealous in every pursuit where 
 justice or honour were concerned. The people 
 had the highest opinion of his integrity and 
 sincerity in every undertaking, and this naturally 
 inspired them with confidence and affection. 
 Even Pompey the Great had hardly ever so 
 much credit with them ; for who ever imagined, 
 that, if he had conquered Caesar, he would have 
 submitted to the laws, and would not have re- 
 tained his power under the title of consul or 
 dictator, or some more specious and popular 
 name ? Cassius, on the contrary, a man of 
 violent passions and rapacious avarice, was sus- 
 pected of exposing himself to toil and danger, 
 rather from a thirst of power than an attachment 
 to the liberties of his country. The former dis- 
 turbers of the commonwealth, Cinna, and IMarius, 
 and Carbo, evidently set their country as a stake 
 for the winner, and hardly scrupled to own that 
 they fought for empire. But the very enemies 
 of Brutus never charge him with this. Even 
 Antony has been heard to say, that Brutus was 
 the only conspirator who had the sense of honour 
 and justice for his motive : and that the rest were 
 wholly actuated by malice or envy. It is clear, 
 too, from what Brutus himself says, that he 
 finally and principally relied on his own virtue. 
 Thus he writes to Atticus immediately before an 
 engagement, that his affairs were in the most 
 desirable situation imaginable ; for that either 
 he should conquer, and restore liberty to Rome, 
 or die, and be free from slavery ; and that this 
 only remained a question— whether they should 
 live or die free men. He adds, that hlark 
 Antony was properly punished for his folly ; 
 who, when he might have ranked with the Bruti, 
 the Cassi, and Catos, chose rather to be the 
 underling of Octavius ; and that if he did not 
 fall in the approaching battle, they would very 
 soon be at variance with each other. In which 
 he seems to have been a true prophet. 
 
 Whilst they were at Smyrna, Brutus desired 
 Cassius to let him have part of the vast treasure 
 he had collected, because his own was chiefly 
 expended in equipping a fleet, to gain the supe- 
 riority at sea. But the friends of Cassius advised 
 him against this ; alleging, that it would be 
 absurd to give Brutus that money which he had 
 saved with so much frugality, and acquired with 
 so much envy, merely that Brutus might increase 
 his popularity, by distributing it amongst the 
 soldiers. Cassius, however, gave him a third of 
 what he had, and then they parted for their 
 respective commands. Cassius behaved with 
 great severity on the taking of Rhodes ; though. 
 
672 
 
 PLUTARCH LIVES. 
 
 when he first entered the city, and was saluted 
 with the title of king and master, he answered 
 that he was neither their king nor their master, 
 but the destroyer of him who would have been 
 both. Brutus demanded supplies of men and 
 money from the Lycians ; but Naucrates, an 
 orator, persuaded the cities to rebel, and some 
 of the inhabitants posted themselves on the hills 
 with an intent to oppose the passage of Brutus. 
 Brutus at first despatched a party of horse, which 
 surprised them at dinner, and killed 600 of them. 
 But afterwards, when he had taken the adjacent 
 towns and villages, he gave up^ the prisoners 
 without ransom, and hoped to gain them to his 
 party by clemency. Their former sufferings, 
 however, made them reject his humanity, and 
 those that still resisted being driven into the city 
 of Xanthus, were there besieged. As a river ran 
 close by the town, several attempted to escape 
 by swimming and diving ; but they were pre- 
 vented by nets let down for that purpose, which 
 had little bells at the top, to give notice when 
 any one was taken. The Xanthians afterwards 
 made a sally in the night, and set fire to several 
 of the battering engines : but they were per- 
 ceived and driven back by the Romans ; at the 
 same time the violence of the winds drove the 
 flames on the city, so that several houses near 
 the battlements took fire. Brutus, being appre- 
 hensive that the whole city would be destroyed, 
 sent his own soldiers to assist the inhabitants in 
 quenching the fire. But the Lycians were seized 
 with an incredible despair, a kind of frenzy, 
 which can no otherwise be described than by 
 calling it a passionate desire of death. Women 
 and children, freemen and slaves, people of all 
 ages and conditions, strove to repulse the soldiers 
 as they came to their assistance from the walls. 
 With their own hands they collected wood and 
 reeds, and all manner of combustibles, to spread 
 the fire over the city, and encouraged its progress 
 by every means in their power. Thus assisted, 
 the flames flew over the whole with dreadful 
 rapidity ; whilst Brutus, extremely shocked at 
 this calamity, rode round the walls, and stretch- 
 ing forth his hands to the inhabitants, entreated 
 them to spare themselves and their city. Regard- 
 less of his entreaties, they sought by every means 
 to put an end to their lives. _ Men, women, and 
 even children, with hideous cries, leaped into the 
 flames. Some threw themselves headlong from 
 the walls, and others fell upon the swords _ of 
 their parents, opening their breasts, and begging 
 to be slain. 
 
 When the city was in a great measure reduced 
 to ashes, a woman was found who had hanged 
 herself, with her young child fastened to her 
 neck, and the torch in her hand, with which she 
 had fired her house. This deplorable object so 
 much affected Brutus that he wept when he was 
 told of it, and proclaimed a reward to any 
 soldier who could save a Xanthian. It is said 
 that no more than 150 were preserved, and those 
 against their will. Thus the Xanthians, as if 
 fate had appointed certain periods for their de- 
 struction, after a long course of years, sunk into 
 that deplorable ruin, in which the same rash 
 despair had involved their ancestors in the 
 Persian war : for they too burned their city, and 
 destroyed themselves. 
 
 After this, when the Patareans likewise made 
 
 whether he should besiege them : for he was 
 afraid they should follow the desperate measures 
 of the Xanthians. However, having some of 
 their women whom he had taken prisoners, he 
 dismissed them without ransom ; and those re- 
 turning to their husbands and parents,^ who hap- 
 pened to be people of the first distinction, so 
 much extolled the justice and moderation of 
 Brutus, that they prevailed on them to submit, 
 and put ^eir city in his hands. The adjacent 
 cities followed their example, and found^ that his 
 humanity exceeded their hopes. Cassius com- 
 pelled every Rhodian to give up all the gold and 
 silver in his possession, by which he amassed 
 8000 talents ; and yet he laid the public under a 
 fine of 500 talents more : but Brutus took only 
 150 talents of the Lycians, and, without doing 
 them any other injury, led his army into Ionia. _ 
 Brutus, in the course of this expedition, did 
 many acts of justice, and was vigilant in the 
 dispensation of rewards and punishments. An 
 instance of this I shall relate, because both he 
 himself, and every honest Roman, was par- 
 ticularly pleased with it. When Pompey the 
 Great, after his overthrow at Pharsalia, fled into 
 Egypt, and landed near Pelusium, the tutors and 
 ministers of young Ptolemy consulted what 
 measures they should take on the occasion. But 
 they were of different opinions. Some were for 
 receiving him, others for excluding him out of 
 Egypt. Theodotus, a Chian ^ by birth, and a 
 teacher of rhetoric by profession, who then at- 
 tended the king in that capacity, was, for want 
 of abler ministers, admitted to the council. This 
 man insisted, that both were in the wrong ; those 
 who were for receiving, and those who were for 
 expelling Pompey. The best measure they could 
 take, he said, would be to put him to death ; and 
 concluded his speech with the proverb, that 
 men do not hite. The council entered into his 
 opinion ; and Pompey the Great, an example of 
 the incredible mutability of fortune, fell a sacri- 
 fice to the arguments of a sophist, as that sophist 
 lived afterwards to boast. Not long after, upon 
 Caesar’s arrival in Egypt, some of the murderers 
 received their proper reward, and were put to 
 death ; but Theodotus made his escape. Yet, 
 though for a while he gained from fortune the 
 poor privilege of a wandering and despicable life, 
 he fell at last into the hands of Brutus, as he was 
 passing through Asia ; and, by paying the forfeit 
 of his baseness, became more mernorable from his 
 death than from anything in his life. 
 
 About this time Brutus sent for Cassius ^ to 
 Sardis, and went with his friends to meet him. 
 The whole army being drawn up saluted both 
 the leaders with the title of Imperator. But, as 
 it usually happens in great affairs, where many 
 friends and many officers are engaged, mutual 
 complaints and suspicions arose between Brutus 
 and Cassius. To settle these more properly, they 
 retired into an apartment by themselves. Ex- 
 postulations, debates, and accusations followed ; 
 and these were so violent that they burst into 
 tears. Their friends without were surprised at 
 the loudness and asperity ot the conference J 
 but though they were apprehensive of the con- 
 sequence, they durst not interfere, because they 
 had been expressly forbidden to enter. Favonius, 
 however, an imitator of Cato, but rather an en- 
 thusiast than rational in his philosophy, attempted 
 
 resistance, Brutus was under great 
 
 anxiety \ to enter. The servants in waiting endeavoured 
 
MARCUS BRUTUS. 6--. 
 
 — — ^ i J 
 
 to prevent him, but it was not easy to stop the 
 impetuous Favonius. He was violent in his 
 whole conduct, and valued himself less in his 
 dignity as a senator than on a kind of cynicaJ 
 freedom of saying everything he pleased ; nor 
 w^ this unentertaining to those who could bear 
 with his impertinence. However, he broke 
 
 through the door and entered the apartment, 
 pronouncing, in a theatrical tone, what Nester 
 says in Homer- 
 
 Young men be ruled — I’m older than you both. 
 
 Cassius laughed : but Brutus thrust him out, 
 telling him that he pretended to be a cynic, but 
 was in reality a dog. This, however, put an end 
 to the dispute ; and for that time they parted. 
 Cassius gave an entertainment in the evening, to 
 which Bratus invited his friends. When they 
 were seated, Favonius came in from bathing. 
 Brutus called aloud to him, telling him that he 
 was not invited, and bade him go to the lower 
 end of the table. Favonius, notwithstanding, 
 thrust himself in, and sat down in the middle. 
 On that occa^on there was much learning and 
 good humour in the conversation. 
 
 The day following, one Lucius Pella, who had 
 been praetor, and employed in offices of trust, 
 being impeached by the Sardians of embezzling 
 the public money, was disgraced and condemned 
 by Brutus. This was very mortifying to Cassius ; 
 for, a httle before, two of his owm friends had 
 been accused of ^e same crime ; but he had 
 absolved them in public, and contenting himself 
 with giving them a private reproof, continued 
 them in office. Of course, he charged Brutus 
 with too rigid an exertion of the laws at a time 
 when lenity was much more jiolitic. Brutus, on 
 the other hand, reminded him of the ides of 
 March, the time when they had killed Csesar ; 
 who was not, personally speaking, the scourge of 
 mankind, but oidy abetted and supported Siose 
 that were with his power. He bade him consider, 
 that if the neglect of justice were in any case to 
 be connived at, it should have been done before ; 
 and that they had better have borne with the 
 oppressions of Caesar’s friends than suffered the 
 malpractices of their own to pass with impunity ; 
 “for then,” continued he, “we could have been 
 blamed only for cowardice, but now, after all we 
 have imdergone, we shall lie imder the imputation 
 of injustice.” Such were the principles of Brutus. 
 
 \yhen they were about to leave Asia, Brutus, 
 
 It is said, had an extraordinary apparition. 
 Namrally watchful, sparing in his diet, and 
 ^siduous in business, he allowed himself but 
 little time for deep. In the day he never 
 slept, nor in the night, till all business w^as over, 
 and, the rest being retired, he had nobody to 
 converse wdth. But at this time, involved as he 
 was in the operations of war, and solicitous for 
 the event, he only slumbered a httle after supper, 
 and spent the rest of the night in ordering his 
 most urgent affairs. ^Vhen these were de- 
 spatched, he employed himself in reading till the 
 third watch, when the tribunes and centurions 
 came to him for orders. Thus, a little before he : 
 left i^ia, he was sitting alone in his tent, by a 
 dim light^ and at a late hour. The whole army 
 lay in sl^p and silence, while the general, ; 
 wrapped in meditation, thought he perceived i 
 something enter his tent : turning towards the i 
 door, he saw a horrible and monstrous spectre ■' 
 L. . . 
 
 Sliding silently by his side. “ What art thou ? ” 
 boldly. “Art thou god or man? And, 
 what is thy business 'wuth me?” The spectre 
 answered, “ I am thy evil genius, Brutus ! Thou 
 wilt see me at Philippi.” To which he calmly 
 replied, “ I’ll meet thee there.” When the ap- 
 parition was gone, he called his servants, who 
 told him they had neither heard any voice, nor 
 ^en any vision. _ That night he did not go to rest, 
 but went early in the morning to Ca^us, and 
 told him what had happened. Cassius, who was 
 of the school of Epicurus, and used frequently 
 to dispute \rith Brutus on these subjects, answered 
 him thus : “ It is the opinion of our sect, that not 
 everything we see is real ; for matter is evasive, 
 and sense deceitfuL Besides, the impressions it 
 receives are, by the quick and subtle injauence of 
 imagination, thrown into a variety of forms, 
 many of which have no archetypes in nature : 
 and this the iniagination effects as easily as we 
 may make an impression on wax. The mind of 
 man, having in itself the plastic powders, and the 
 component parts, can fashion and vary its objects 
 at pleasure. This is clear from the sudden tran- 
 sition of dreams, in which the imagination can 
 educe from the slightest principles such an amaz- 
 ing variety of forms, and call into exercise all the 
 passions of the soul. The mind is perpetually 
 in motion, and that motion is imagination, or 
 thought. But when the body, as in your case, is 
 fatigued with labour, it naturally suspends, or 
 perverts the regular functions of the mind. Upon 
 the whole, it is highly improbable that there 
 should be any such beings as demons, or spirits ; 
 or that if there were such, they should assume a 
 human shape or voice, or have any power to 
 affect us. At the same time I own I could wush 
 there w^ere such beings, that we might not rely on 
 fleets and armies, but ^d the concurrence of the 
 gods in this our sacred and glorious enterprise.” 
 Such were the arguments he made use of to 
 satisfy Brutus. 
 
 Wffien the army began to march, tw’o eagles 
 p>erched on the tw^o first standards, and accom- 
 pamed them as far as Philippi, being constantly 
 fed by the soldiers ; but the day before the battle 
 they flew away. Brutus had already reduced 
 most of the nations in these parts ; nevertheless 
 he traversed the seacoast over against Thasus, 
 that, if any hostile powder remained he might 
 bring it into subjection. Norbanus, who was 
 encamped in the straits near Symbolum, they 
 surrounded in such a manner, that they obliged 
 him to quit the place. Indeed, he narrowly es- 
 caped losing his whole army, which had certainly 
 b^n the case, had not Antony come to his relief 
 with such amazing expedition that Brutus could 
 not believe it to be possible. Csesar, who had 
 been kept behind by sickness, joined his army 
 about ten days after. Brutus was encamped over 
 against him ; Cassius was opposite to Antony. The 
 space between the two armies the Romans rail 
 the plains of Philippi. Two armies of Romans, 
 equal in nueabers to these, had never before met 
 to engage each other. Caesar’s was something 
 superior in numbers; but in the splendoin: of 
 arms and equipage \^’as far exceeded by that of 
 Brutus ; for most of their arms were of gold and 
 silver, which their general had hberally beaowed 
 upon them. Brutus, in other things had accus- 
 tomed his officers to frugality ; but the riches I 
 sv’hich his soldiers carried about with them, would 
 1 
 
 2 X 
 
6^^ PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 at once, he thought, add to the spirit of the am- 1 
 bitious, and make the covetous valiarlt in the t 
 defence of those arms, which were their principal £ 
 
 Cmsar made a lustration of his army within the i 
 camp, and gave each private man a little cc^n, i 
 and five drachmas only for the sacrifice, but 1 
 Brutus, to show his contempt of the poverty or 
 the avarice of Caesar, made a public lustration or . 
 his army in the field, and not onl^y distributed 
 cattle to each cohort for the sacrifice, but gave 
 fifty drachmas on the occasion to each Private 
 man. Of course he was more beloved by his 
 soldiers, and they were more ready to fight tor 
 him. It is reported, that, during the lustratmn, 
 an unlucky omen happened to Cassius. ihe 
 garland he was to wear at^ the sacrifice was 
 presented to him, the wrong side outwards. It is 
 said too, that at a solemn procession, some time 
 before, the person who bore the golden image ot 
 victory before Cassius, happened to stumble, ana 
 the image fell to the ground. Several birds of 
 prey hovered daily about the camp, and swarms 
 of bees were seen within the trenches. Upon 
 which the soothsayers ordered the part where they 
 appeared to be shut up : for Cassius, with all his 
 Epicurean philosophy, began to be superstitious, 
 and the soldiers were extremely disheartened by 
 these omens. . j 
 
 For this reason Cassius was inclined to protract 
 the war, and unwilling to hazard the whole oi the 
 event on a present engagement. What made him 
 for this measure too was, that they were stronger 
 in money and provisions, but inferior in numbers. 
 Brutus, on the other hand, was, as usual, lor an 
 immediate decision; that he might mther give 
 liberty to his country, or rescue his fellow-citizens 
 from the toils and expenses of war._ He was en- 
 couraged likewise by the success his cavalry met 
 with in several skirmi.shes J and some imstances 
 of desertion and mutiny in the camp, brought 
 over many of the friends of Cassius to his 
 opinion. But there was one Attelliivc, who still 
 opposed an immediate decision, and advised to 
 put it off till the next winter. When Brutus 
 asked him what advantages he expected from 
 that, he answered, “If I gain nothing^^el^, 1 
 shall at least live so much the longer. Both 
 
 Cassius and the rest of the officers were dis- 
 pleased with this answer ; and it was determined 
 
 to give battle the day following. 
 
 Brutus, that night, expressed great confidence 
 and cheerfulness ; and having passed the time ot 
 supper in philosophical conversation, he went to 
 rest. Messala says, that Cassius supped m pri- 
 vate with some of his most intimate friends ; and 
 that, contrary to his usual manner, he was pensive 
 and silent. He adds, that, after supper, he took 
 him by the hand, and pressing it close, as he 
 commonly did, in token of his friendship, he said 
 in Greek : “ Bear witness, Messafa, that 1 am 
 reduced to the same necessity with Pompey the 
 Great, of hazarding the liberty of my country or 
 one battle. Yet 1 have confidence in our gooc 
 fortune, on which we ought still to rely, thougl 
 the measures we have resolved upon are indis 
 creet.” These, Messala, tells us, were the ffis 
 words that Cassius spoke, before he bade hin 
 farewell; and that the next day, being his birth 
 day, he invited Cassius to sup with him. _ 
 
 Next morning, as soon as it was light, tm 
 scarlet robe, which was the signal for battle, wa 
 
 rung out in the tents of Brutus and Cassius ; and 
 hey themselves met on the plain between the two 
 irmies. On this occasion, Cassius thus addressed 
 limself to Brutus May the gods, Brutus, 
 
 nake this day successful, that we may pass the 
 rest of our days together in prosperity. But as 
 the most important of human events are the most 
 uncertain ; and as we may never see each other 
 any more, if we are unfortunate on this occasion, 
 tell me what is your resolution concerning flight 
 and death ? ” , 
 
 Brutus answered: “In the younger and less 
 experienced part of my life, I was led, upon 
 philosophical principles, to condemn the conduct 
 of Cato, in killing himself.^ I thought it at once 
 impious and unmanly to sink beneath the stroke 
 of fortune, and to refuse the lot that had befallen 
 us In my present situation, however, I am of a 
 different opinion. So that if heaven should now 
 be unfavourable to our wishes, I will no longer 
 solicit my hopes or my fortune, but die contented 
 with it, such as it is. On the ides of March 
 I devoted my life to my country ; and since that 
 time I have lived in liberty and glory. At these 
 words Cassius smiled, and embracing Brutus, saiffi 
 “ Let us march then against the enemy ; for with 
 these resolutions, though we should not conquer, 
 we have nothing to ffiar ? ” They then consulted 
 with their friends concerning the order of battle. 
 Brutus desired that he might command the right 
 wing, though the post was thought more proper 
 for Cassius on account of his experience— Cassius, 
 however, gave it up to him, and placed Mes.sala, 
 with the best of his legions, in^ the same wing. 
 Brutus immediately drew out his cavalry, which 
 were equipped with great magnificence ; and the 
 foot followed close upon them. 
 
 Antony’s soldiers were at this time employed in 
 making a trench from the marsh where they were 
 encamped, to cut off Cassius s communication 
 with the sea. Cmsar lay still in his tent, confined 
 by sickness. His soldiers were far from expecting 
 that the enemy would come to a pitched battle. 
 They supposed that they were only making ex- 
 cursions to harass the trench-diggers with their 
 light arms ; and not perceiving that they 
 pouring in close upon them, they were astonished 
 at the outcry they heard from the trenches. 
 Brutus, in the mean time, sent tickets to the 
 several officers with the word of battle, and rode 
 through the ranks to encourage his men. ihere 
 were few who had patience to wait for the word. 
 
 ' The greatest part, before it could reach iffiem, tell 
 with loud shouts upon the enemy. This pre- 
 . cipitate onset threw the army into confusion, and 
 separated the legions. Messala s legion first got 
 ; beyond the left wing of Csesar, and was followed 
 by those that were stationed near him. In their 
 ; way they did nothing more than throw some ot 
 the outmost ranks into disorder, and killed few 
 L of the enemy ; their great object was to fail upon 
 j Cmsar’s camp, and they made directly up to it. 
 
 1 Caesar himself, as he tells us in his Commentaries,, 
 1 had but just before been conveyed out ot his tent , 
 1 in consequence of a vision of his friend kxx.ox\^xs, 
 
 - which commanded that he should be carried out 
 t of the camp. This made it believed that he was 
 \ slain ; for the soldiers had pierced his empty litter 
 
 - in many places with darts. Those who were 
 taken in the camp were put to the sword, amongst 
 
 e whom were 2000 Lacedmmqnian auxiliaries, 
 s Those who attacked Caesar’s legions in front easily 
 
put them to the rout, and cut three legions in 
 pieces. After this, borne along with the im- 
 petuosity of victory, they rushed into the camp at 
 
 own camp plundered. His companions, however, 
 saw a large detachment of horse, which Brutus 
 had sent to their relief, making up to them. 
 
 the same time with the fugitives, and Brutus was : These Cassius concluded to be the^eiiemyTh'at 
 m the imdst of them. The flank of Brutus’s | were in pursuit of him ; notwithstandincr which 
 aray w^ now left unguarded, by the separation I he despatched Titinius to reconnoitre them! 
 
 n *1 * 1*1 » I Ukj fcVi/ * ^V^viXlXwiLl C LlItT ilf , 
 
 of the right wmg, v/hich was gone off too far in i When the cavalry of Brutus saw this faithful 
 the pursmt ; and the enemy perceiving this, ' friend of Cassius approach, they shouted for jov 
 endeavoured to take advantage of it. They | His acquaintance leaped from their hors-s to 
 accordmgly attacked it with great fury, but could j embrace him, and the rest rode round him With 
 maKe no impression on the main body, which | clashing of arms, and all the clamorous ex- 
 received tb.ein with finnness and unsha.k.en resolu- i pressions of gladness. Xhis circumstance had a 
 tion. The left wing, however, which was under ' . . 
 
 the co m ma n d of C^sius, was soon put to the 
 rout ; for the men were in great disorder, and 
 knew nothing of what had passed in the right 
 wing. The enemy pursued him into the camp, 
 
 fat^ effect. Cassius took it for granted that 
 Titinius was seized by the enemv, and regretted, 
 that, through a weak desire of life, he had 
 suffered his friend to fall into their hands. When 
 he had expressed himself to this effect, he retired 
 . .ed, though i mto an empty tent, accompanied only by his 
 
 neither ot theur generals were present. Antony, | freedman Pindarus, whoiq, ever since the defeat 
 It IS said, to avoid the fury of the flrst onset, had of Crassus, he had retained for a particular 
 retired into the adjoining marsh ; and Crnsar, ' purpose. In that defeat, he escaped out of the 
 who had been carried sick out of the camp, was : hands of the Parthians ; but now, wrapping his 
 nowhere to be found. Nay, some of the soldiers ! robe about his face, W laid bare ’his neck and 
 would have persuaded Brutus that they had killed j commanded Pindarus to cut oflf his head. ’This 
 Caesar, describing his age and person, and . was done ; for his head was found sever^ from 
 showmg him their bloody swords. 1 his body : but whether Pindarus did it by his 
 
 The main body of Brutus’s army had now master s command, has been suspected ; because 
 made prodigious havock of the enemy ; and ; he never afterwards appeared. It was soon dis- 
 Brutus, in his department, was no less absolutely ; covered who the cai'iry were, and Titinius 
 conqueror, than Cassius was conquered. The ' crowned with garlands, came to the place where 
 want of knowing this was the ruin of their affairs, he left Cassius. When the lamentadons of his 
 Brutus neglected to relieve Cassius, because he friends informed him of the unhappy fate of his 
 knew not that he wanted relief. | general, he severely reproached himself for the 
 
 u hen Brutus had destroyed the camp of Caesar, tardiness which had occasioned it, and fell ucoa 
 and was returning from the pursuit, he was sur- his sword. 
 
 prised that he could neither perceive the tent of Brutus, when he was assured of the defeat of 
 Cassius above the rest, as usual, nor any of those LCassius, made all possible haste to his relief; but 
 that were about it : for they had been demolished ! he knew nothing of his death till he came up to 
 by the enemy, on their first entering the camp. | his camp. There he lamented over his body, and 
 Some, who were of quicker sight than the rest, ' called him tAe last of Rct7ia7is ; intima’ting 
 told him, that they could perceive a motion of] that Rome would never produce another man of 
 fining helmets and silver t.trgets in the camp of ! equal spirit. He ordered his funeral to be cele- 
 Cassius, and supposed, from their numbers and ' brated at Thasus, that it might not occasion any 
 their armour, that they could not be those who ■ disorder in the camp. His dispersed and dejected 
 were left to guard the camp ; though at the same soldiers he coilected and encouraged : and" as 
 time, there was not so great an appearance of i they had been stripped of ever>-tning by the 
 dead bodies as there inust have been after the j enemj’-, he promised them 2000 drachmas a man. 
 defeat of so many legions. ^ This gave Bratus j This munificence at once encouraged and sur- 
 the fost suspicion of Cassius’s misfortune ; and, ; prised them : they attended him at his departure 
 leaving a sufficient guard in the enemy’s camp, j witli great acclamations, and complimented him 
 he called off the rest from the pursuit, and led as the only general of the four who had not been 
 them, in order, to the relief of Cassius. 1 beaten. Brutus was confident of victoiyg and the 
 
 The case of that general was this : He was ■ event justified that confidence : for, with a few 
 chagrined, at first, by the irregular conduct of : legions, he overcame all that opposed him ; and 
 Brutus’s soldiers, who began the attack without ' if most of his soldiers had not passed the enemy 
 waiting for the command ; and, afterwards, by ' in pursuit of plunder, the battle must have been 
 their attention to plunder, whereby they neglected J decisive in has favour. He lost 8000 men, in- 
 to surround and cut off the enemy. Thus dis- eluding the servants, whom he calls Brlfes. 
 satisfied, he trifled ivith his command, and for MessaJa says, he supposes the enemy lost more 
 want of vigilance, suffered himself to be sur- than twice that number. And, of course, they 
 roimded by the enemy’s right wing ; upon which ; were more discouraged than Brutus, till Deme- 
 his cavalry quitted their post, and fled towards ; trius, a servant of Cassius, went over to Antony 
 the sea. The foot, likewise, began to give way ; | in the evening, and carried him his master’s robe 
 
 and though he laboured as much as possible to 
 stop their flight, and snatching an ensign from the 
 hand of one of the fugitives, fixed it at his feet, 
 yet he was hardly able to keep his own praetorian 
 band together : so that, at length, he was obliged 
 
 and sword, which he had taken from the dead 
 body. This so effectually encouraged the enem)’, 
 that they were drawn up in form of battle by 
 break of day. Both camps, Jn the occupation of 
 Brutus, involved him in dimculties. His owm. 
 
 to retire, with a very small number, to a hiL that ‘ full of prisoners, required a strong guard. At the 
 overlooked the plain. Yet here he could discover same time many of the soldiers of Cassius mur- 
 nothing : for he was short-sighted, and it was mured at their change of master, and the van- 
 with some difficulty that he could perceive his; quished were naturally enrious and jealous of the 
 
676 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 victors. He, therefore, thought proper to draw- 
 up his army, but not to fight. 
 
 All the slaves he had taken 'prisoners, being 
 found practising with his soldiers, were put to the 
 sword : but most of the freemen and citizens were 
 dismissed ; and he told them at the same time, 
 that they were more truly prisoners in the hands 
 of the enemy than in his; with them, he said, 
 they were slaves indeed ; but with him, freemen 
 and citizens of Rome. He was obliged, however, 
 to dismiss them privately ; for they had implacable 
 enemies amongst his own friends and officers. 
 Amongst the prisoners were Volumnius, a mimic, 
 and Saculio, a buffoon, of whom Brutus took no 
 notice, till they were brought ^before him,_ and 
 accused of continuing, even in their captivity, 
 their scurrilous jests and abusive language. Yet 
 still taken up with more important concerns, he 
 paid no regard to th^f accusation ; but Messala 
 Corvinus was of opinion, that they should be 
 publicly whipped, and sent naked to the enemy, as 
 proper associates and convivial companions for 
 such generals. Some were entertained with the 
 idea, and laughed ; but Publius Casca, the first 
 that wounded Caesar, observed, that it was in- 
 decent to celebrate the obsequies of Cassius with 
 jesting and laughter. “ As for you, Brutus, ” 
 said he, “ it will be seen what esteem you have for 
 the memory of that general, when you have either 
 punished or pardoned those who ridicule and 
 revile him.” Brutus resented this expostulation, 
 and said, ‘ ‘ Why is this business thrown upon me, 
 Casca? Why do not you do what you think 
 proper?” This answer was considered as an 
 assent to their death ; so the poor wretches were 
 carried off and slain. 
 
 He now gave the promised rewards to his 
 soldiers; and after gently rebuking them for 
 beginning the assault without waiting for the 
 word of battle, he promised, that if they acquitted 
 themselves to his satisfaction in the next engage- 
 ment, he would give them up the cities of Lace- 
 daemon and Thessalonica to plunder. This is the 
 only circumstance in his life for which no apology 
 can be made. For though Antony and Caesar 
 afterwards acted with more unbounded cruelty in 
 rewarding their soldiers ; though they deprived 
 most of the ancient inhabitants of Italy of their 
 lands, and gave them to those who had no title to 
 them ; yet they acted consistently with their first 
 principle, which was the acquisition of empire and 
 arbitrary power. But Brutus maintained such a 
 reputation for virtue that he was neither allowed 
 to conquer, nor even to save himself, except on 
 the strictest principles of honour and justice : 
 more particularly since the death of Cassius, to 
 whom, if any act of violence were committed, it 
 was generally imputed. However, as sailors, 
 when their rudder is broken in a storm, substitute 
 some other piece of wood in its place ; and though 
 they cannot steer so well as before, do the best 
 they can in their necessity ; so Brutus, at the 
 head of so vast an army, and such important 
 affairs, unassisted by any officer that was equal to 
 the charge, was obliged to make use of such 
 advisers as he had ; and he generally followed the 
 counsel of those who proposed anything that might 
 bring Cassius’s soldiers to order : for these were 
 extremely untractable ; insolent in the camp, for 
 want of their general, though cowardly in the field, 
 from the remembrance of their defeat. 
 
 The affairs of Csesar and Antony were not in a 
 
 much better condition. Provisions were scarce, 
 and the marshy situation of their camp made 
 them dread the winter. They already began to 
 fear the inconveniences of it ; for the autumnal 
 rains had fallen heavy after the battle, and their 
 tents were filled with mire and water ; which, 
 from the coldness of the weather, immediately 
 froze. In this situation they received intelligence 
 of their loss at sea. Their fleet, which was coming 
 from Italy with a large supply of soldiers, was 
 met by that of Brutus, and so totally defeated 
 that the few who escaped were reduced by famine 
 to eat the sails and tackle of the ships. It was 
 now determined, on Caesar’s side, that they should 
 come to battle, before Brutus was made acquainted 
 with his success. It appears that the flight, both 
 by sea and land, was on the same day ; but, by 
 some accident, rather than the faulty of their 
 officers, Brutus knew nothing of his victory till 
 twenty days after. Had he been informed of it, 
 he would never, certainly, have hazarded a second 
 battle : for he had provisions sufficient for a 
 considerable length of time, and his army was so 
 advantageously posted that it was safe both from 
 the injuries of the weather and the incursions of 
 the enemy. Besides, knowing that he was wholly 
 master at sea, and partly victorious by land, he 
 would have had everything imaginable to en- 
 courage him ; and could not have been urged to 
 any dangerous measures by despair. 
 
 But it seems that the republican form of 
 government was no longer to subsist in Rome ; 
 that it necessarily required a monarchy; and 
 that Providence, to remove the only man who 
 could oppose its destined master, kept the know- 
 ledge of that victory from him till it was top late. 
 And yet, how near was he to receiving the intelli- 
 gence ! The very evening before the engagement, 
 a deserter, named Clodius, came over from the 
 enemy to tell him, that Caesar was informed of 
 the loss of his fleet, and that this was the reason 
 of his hastening the battle. The deserter, how- 
 ever, was considered either as designing or ill 
 informed : his intelligence was disregarded, and 
 he was not even admitted into the presence of 
 Brutus. 
 
 That night, they say, the spectre appeared 
 again to Brutus, and assumed its former figup, 
 but vanished without speaking. Yet Publius 
 Volumnius, a philosophical man, who had borne 
 arms with Brutus during the whole war, makes 
 no mention of this prodigy ; though he says, that 
 the first standard was covered with a swarm of 
 bees ; and that the arm of one of the officers 
 sweated oil of roses, which would not cease 
 though they often wiped it off. He says, too, 
 that immediately before the battle, two eagles 
 fought in the space between the two armies; 
 and that there was an incredible silence and 
 attention in the field, till that on the side of 
 Brutus was beaten and flew away. The story 
 of the Ethiopian is well known, who, meeting 
 the standard bearer opening the gate of the camp, 
 was cut in pieces by the soldiers ; for that they 
 interpreted as an ill omen. 
 
 When Brutus had drawn up his army in form 
 of battle, he paused some time before he gave the 
 word. While he was visiting the ranks, he had 
 suspicions of some, and heard accusations of 
 others. The cavalry he found had no ardour for 
 the attack, but seemed waiting to see what the 
 foot would do. Besides, Camulatus, a soldier in 
 
MARCUS BRUTUS. 6^7 
 
 the highest estimation for valour, rode close by 
 Brutus, and went over to the enemy in his sight. 
 This hurt him inexpressibly ; and partly out of 
 anger, partly from fear of further desertion and 
 treachery, he led his forces against the enemy 
 about three m the afternoon. Where he fought 
 in person he was still successful. He charged 
 the enemy’s left wing, and, the cavalry following 
 the impression which the foot had made, it was 
 put to the rout. But when the other wing of 
 Brutus was ordered to advance, the inferiority 
 of their numbers made them apprehensive that 
 they should be surrounded by the enemy. For 
 this reason they extended their ranks in order to 
 cover more ground ; by which means the centre 
 of the left wing was so much weakened that it 
 could not sustain the shock of the enemy, but 
 fled at the first onset. After their dispersion the 
 enemy surrounded Brutus, who did everything 
 that the bravest and most expert general could 
 do in his situation, and whose conduct at least 
 entitled him to victory. But what seemed an 
 advantage in the first engagement proved a dis- 
 advantage in the second. _ In the former battle, 
 that wing of the enemy which was conquered was 
 totally cut off; but most of the men in the con- 
 quered wing of Cassius were saved. This, at the 
 time, might appear as an advantage, but it proved 
 a prejudice. The remembrance of their former 
 defeat filled them with terror and confusion, 
 which they spread through the greatest part of 
 the army. 
 
 Marcus, the son of Cato, was slain fighting 
 amidst the bravest of the young nobility. He 
 scorned alike either to fly or to yield ; but, avow- 
 ing who he was, and assuming his father’s name, 
 still used his sword, till he fell upon the heaps of 
 the slaughtered enemy. Many other brave men 
 who exposed themselves for the preservation of 
 Brutus, fell at the same time. 
 
 _ Lucilius, a man of great worth, and his in- 
 timate friend, observed some barbarian horse 
 riding full speed against Brutus in particular 
 and was determined to stop them, though at the 
 hazard of his own life. He, therefore, told them 
 that he was Brutus ; and they believed him be- 
 cause he pretended to be afraid of Caesar, ’and 
 desired to be conveyed to Antony. Exulting in 
 their capture, and thinking themselves peculiarly 
 fortunate, they carried him along with them by 
 night, having previously sent an account to 
 Antony of their success, who was infinitely 
 pleased with it, and came out to them. Many 
 others, likewise, when they heard that Brutus 
 was brought alive, assembled to see him. And 
 some pitied his misfortunes, while others accused 
 him of an inglorious meanness, in suffering the 
 love of life to betray him into the hands of bar- 
 barians. ^ When he approached, and Antony was 
 deliberating in what manner he should receive 
 Brutus, Lucilius first addressed him, and, with 
 gieat intrepidity, said, “Antony, be assured that 
 Lrutus neither is nor will be taken by an enemy 
 t orbid It, heaven, that fortune should have such 
 a triumph over virtue! Whether he shall be 
 found alive or dead, he will be found in a state 
 becoming Brutus. I imposed on your soldiers 
 and am prepared to suffer the worst you can 
 inflict upon me.” Thus spoke Lucilius, to the 
 A of those that were present, i 
 
 When Antony, addressing himself to those that 
 brought him, said, I perceive, fellow soldiers, 
 
 that you are angry at this imposition of Lucilius. 
 But you have really got a better booty than you 
 intended. You sought an enemy ; hut you have 
 brought me a friend. I know not how I should 
 have treated Brutus, had you brought him alive : 
 ut I am sure that it is better to have such a man 
 friend than for an enemy.” 
 When he said this, he embraced Lucilius, recom- 
 mending him to the care of one of his friends ; 
 and he ever after found him faithful to his in- 
 
 Brutus, attended by a few of his officers and 
 mends, Imving passed a brook that was overhung 
 with cliffs, and shaded with trees, and being 
 overtaken by night, stopped in a cavity under a 
 large rock. There, casting his eyes on the 
 heavens, which were covered with stars, he 
 repeated two verses, one of which Volumnius 
 tells us, was this : 
 
 Forgive not, Jove, the cause of this distress. =» 
 The other, he says, had escaped his memory. 
 Upon enumerating the several friends that had 
 fallen beiore his tyes in the battle, he sighed 
 deeply at the mention of Flavius and Labeo ; the 
 latter of whom was his lieutenant, and the former 
 master of the band of artificers. In the mean 
 while one of his attendants being thirsty, and 
 observing Brutus in the same condition, took his 
 helmet, and went to the brook for water. At the 
 sarne time a noise was heard on the opposite bank, 
 and Volumnius and Dardanus the armour-bearer 
 vent to see what it was. In a short time they 
 returned, and asked for the water: “It is all 
 drank up, said Brutus, with a smile; “but 
 another helmetful shall be fetched.” The man 
 who had brought the first water was therefore 
 sent again ; but he was wounded by the enemy 
 and made his escape with difficulty. 
 
 As Brutus supposed that he had not lost many 
 men in the battle, Statilius undertook to make 
 
 condition their camp 
 was. If things were safe there, he was to hold 
 up a torch for a signal, and return. He got safe 
 to the camp ; for the torch was held up. But a 
 ffing time elapsed, and he did not return. “If 
 btatihus were alive,” said Brutus, “he would be 
 i«to the enemy’s 
 
 hands and was slain. ^ 
 
 The night was now far spent; when Brutus, 
 leaning his head towards his servant Clitus 
 whispered something in his ear. Clitus made no 
 answer, but burst into tears. After that he took 
 Dardanus aside, and said 
 something to him in private. At last, addressing 
 himself to Volumnius in Greek, he entreated him^ 
 in memory of their common studies and exer- 
 cises, to put his hand to his sword, and help him 
 to give the thrust. Volumnius, as well as sevefah 
 others, refused : and one of them observing that 
 fly; “We must fly, in- 
 deed, said Brutus, rising hastily, “but not with 
 our feet, but with our hands.’* He then took 
 each of them by the hand, and spoke with great 
 cheerfulness, to the following pur- 
 pH ^ n an infinite satisfaction to m^ that 
 
 all my friends have been faithful. If I am 
 angry with fortune, it is for the sake of 
 country. INIyself I esteem more happy than the 
 
 * Euripides, Medea. 
 
678 
 
 FLUTARCH^S LIVES. 
 
 conquerors ; not only in respect to the past, but 
 in my present situation. I shall leave behind me 
 that reputation for virtue, which they, with all 
 their wealth and power, will never acquire. For 
 posterity will not scruple to believe and declare, 
 that they were an abandoned set of men, who 
 destroyed the virtuous for the sake of that em- 
 pire to which they had no right.” After this he 
 entreated them severally to provide for their own 
 safety ; and withdrew with only two or three of 
 his most intimate friends. One of these was 
 Strato, with whom he first became acquainted 
 when he studied rhetoric. This friend he placed 
 next to himself, and laying hold of the hilt of his 
 sword with both his hands, he fell upon the point, 
 and died. Some say that Strato, at the earnest 
 request of Brutus, turned aside his head, and 
 held the sword ; upon which he threw himself 
 with such violence, that, entering at his breast, it 
 passed quite through his body, and he imme- 
 diately expired. 
 
 Messala, the friend of Brutus, after he was 
 reconciled to Caesar, took occasion to recommend 
 Strato to his favour. ‘‘This,” said he, with 
 tears, “ is the man who did the last kind office for 
 my dear Brutus.” Caesar received him with 
 kindness ; and he was one of those brave Greeks 
 who afterwards attended him at the battle of 
 Actium. Of Messala, it is said, that when Cssar 
 observed he had been no less zealous in his ser- 
 vice at Actium than he had been against him at 
 Philippi, he answered, “ I have always taken the 
 
 best and justest side.” When Antony found the 
 body of Brutus, he ordered it to be covered with 
 the richest robe he had ; and that being stolen, 
 he put the thief to death. _ The ashes of Brutus 
 he sent to his mother Servilia. 
 
 With regard to Porcia, his wife, Nicolaus the 
 philosopher, and Valerius Maximus,* tell us, that 
 being prevented from that death she wished for, 
 by the constant vigilance of her friends, she 
 snatched some burning coals from the fire, and 
 shut them close in her mouth till she was suffo- 
 cated. Notwithstanding, there is a letter from 
 Brutus to his friends still extant, in which he 
 laments the death of Porcia ; and complains that 
 their neglect of her must have made her prefer 
 death to the continuance of her illnsss. So that 
 Nicolaus appears to have been mistaken in the 
 time, at least, if this epistle be authentic ; for it 
 describes Porcia’s distemper, her conjugal affec- 
 tion, and the manner of her death. 
 
 * Valerius Maximus speaks of her fortitude on 
 this occasion, in the highest terms. Tuos quoque 
 ccistissifJtos Ignes. PoTtia, M. Catonis filia 
 cuncta secula dehita admiratione prosequentur : 
 Quce CU711 apud Philippos vicium et interemptum 
 virum tuum Brutmn cognoscerey quia ferrum 
 non dabatur, ardentes ore Carbones, hatirire 
 non dtibiiasti, 77 tiiliebri spiriUi virilem patris 
 exitu7n hnitata, Sed nescio an hoc/orthcs, quod 
 ille usitato, tu novo genere mortis absumpta est. 
 Val. Max. 1 . iv. c. 6 . 
 
 DION AND BRUTUS COMPARED. 
 
 What is principally to be admired in the lives of 
 Dion and Brutus, is their rising to such import- 
 ance from inconsiderable beginnings. But here 
 Dion has the advantage; for, in the progress of 
 glory, he had no coadjutor : whereas Cassius 
 went hand in hand with Brutus ; and though in 
 the reputation of virtue and honour he was by no 
 means his equal, in military experience, resolu- 
 tion, and activity he was not inferior. Some have 
 imputed to him the origin of the whole enter- 
 prise, and have asserted, that Brutus would 
 never, otherwise, have engaged in it. But Dion, 
 at the same time that he made the whole military 
 preparations himself, engaged the friends and 
 associates of his design. He did not, like Brutus, 
 gain power and riches from the war : he_ em- 
 ployed that wealth on which he was to subsist as 
 an exile in a foreign country, in restoring the 
 liberties of his own. When Brutus and Cassius 
 fled from Rome, and found no asylum from the 
 pursuit of their enemies, their only resource was 
 . war ; and they took up arms as much in their 
 own defence as in that of the piiimon liberty. 
 Dion, on the contrary, was happier in his banish- 
 ment than the tyrant that banished him ; and yet 
 he voluntarily exposed himself to danger for the 
 freedom of Sicily. Besides, to deliver the Ro- 
 mans from Caesar, and the Syracusans from 
 Dionysius, were enterprises of a very different 
 kind. Dionysius was an avowed and established 
 tyrant ; and Sicily, with reason, groaned benea^ 
 his yoke. But with respect to Caesar, though, 
 whilst his imperial power was in its infancy, he 
 treated its opponents with severity ; yet, as soon 
 
 as that power was confirmed, the tyranny was 
 rather a nominal than a real thing ; for no tyran- 
 nical action could be laid to his charge. ^ Nay, 
 such was the condition of Rome, that it evidently 
 required a master ; and Csesar was no more than 
 a tender and skilful physician appointed by Pro- 
 vidence to heal the distempers of the state. Of 
 course the people lamented his death, and were 
 implacably enraged against his assassins. Dion, 
 on the contrary, was reproached by the Syra- 
 cusans for suffering Dionysius to escape, and not 
 digging up the former tyrant’s grave. 
 
 With regard to their military conduct, Dion, 
 as a general, was without a fault : he not only 
 made the most of his own instructions, but, where 
 others failed, he happily repaired the error. But 
 it was wrong in Brutus to hazard a second battle, 
 where all was at stake.! And when that battle 
 was lost, he had neither sagacity enough to think 
 of new resources, nor spirit, like Pompey, to 
 contend with fortune, though he had still reason 
 to rely on his troops, and was absolute master 
 at sea. 
 
 But what Brutus is chiefly blamed for was his 
 ingratitude to Csesar. ^ He owed his life to his 
 favour, as well as the lives of those prisoners for 
 whom he interceded. He was treated as his 
 friend, and distinguished with particular marks of 
 honour; and 3^et he imbrued his hands in the 
 blood of his benefactor. Dion st ands clear of 
 
 ! This censure seems very unjust. The waver- 
 ing disposition of Cassius’s troops obliged him to 
 come to a second engagement. 
 
ARTAXERXES. 679 
 
 any charge like this. As a relation of Dion^^sius, 
 he assisted and was useful to him in the adminis- 
 tration ; m which case his services were equal to 
 his honours. \Vhen he was driven into exile, and 
 deprived of his wife and his fortune, he had every 
 motive that was just and honourable to take up 
 arms against him. _ _ 
 
 Yet if this circumstance is considered in another 
 light, Brutus will have the advantage. The 
 greatest glory of both consists in their abhor- 
 rence of tyrants, and their criminal measures. 
 This, in Brutus, was not blended with any other 
 motive. He had no quarrel with Cmsar ; but 
 exposed his life for the liberty of his country. 
 Had not Dion been injured, he had not fought. 
 This is clear from Piato’s epistles ; where it 
 appears, that he was banished from the court of 
 Dionysius, and in consequence of that banish- 
 ment made war upon him. For the good of the 
 community, Brutus, though an enemy to Pom- 
 pey, became his friend ; and though a friend to 
 Csesar, he became his enemy. His enmity and 
 his friendship arose from ^ the same principle, 
 which was justice. But Dion, whilst in favour, 
 employed his services for Dionysius ; and it was 
 not till he was disgraced that he armed against 
 him. Of course, his friends were not quite satis- 
 fied with his enterprise. They were apprehen- 
 sive that when he had destroyed the t^ant, he 
 might seize the government himself, and amuse 
 the people with some softer title than that of 
 tyranny. On the other hand, the very enemies 
 of Brutus acknowledge that he was the only 
 conspirator who had no other view than tnat of 
 restoring the ancient form of government. 
 
 Besides, the enterprise against Dionysius cannot 
 be placed in competition with that against Csepr. 
 The former had rendered himself contemptible 
 by his low manners, his drunkenness, and de- 
 bauchery. But to meditate the fall of Csesar, 
 and not tremble at his dignity, his fortune, or his 
 power, — nor shrink at that name which shook the 
 kings of India and Parthia on their thrones, and 
 disturbed their slumbers this showed a supe- 
 riority of soul, on which fear could have no in- 
 fluence. Dion was no sooner seen in Sicily than 
 he was joined by thousands ; but the authority of 
 Csesar was so formidable in Rome that it sup- 
 
 ported his friends even after he ^yas dead. And 
 a simple boy rose to the first eminence ot power 
 by adopting his name ; which served as a charm 
 against the envy and the influence of Antony. 
 Should it be objected that Dion had the sharpest 
 conflicts in expelling the tyrant, but that Cajsar 
 fell naked and unguarded beneath the sword of 
 Brutus, it will argue at least a consummate man- 
 agement and prudence to be able to come at a 
 man of his power, naked and unguarded. Par- 
 ticularly when it is considered that the blow was 
 not sudden, nor the work of one, or of a few men, 
 but meditated, and communicated to many asso- 
 ciates, of whom not one deceived the leader : for 
 either he had the power of distinguishing honest 
 men at the first view, or such as he chose lie made 
 honest by the confidence he reposed in them. 
 But Dion confided in men of bad principles ; so 
 that he must either have been injudicious in his 
 choice ; or, if his people grew ymrse a ter their 
 appointments, unskilful in his management. 
 Neither of these can be consistent with the talents 
 and conduct of a wise man ; and Plato, accord- 
 ingly, blames him in his letters, for making choice 
 of such friends as, in the end, were his ruin. 
 
 Dion found no friend to revenge his death ; but 
 Brutus received an honourable interment, even 
 from his enemy Antony : and Caesar allowed of 
 that pubfic respect which was paid to his memory, 
 as will appear from the following circumstance. 
 A statue of brass had been erected to him_ at 
 Milan, in Gallia Cisalpina, which was a fine 
 performance and a striking likeness. Caesar, as he 
 passed through the town, took notice of it, and 
 summoning the magistrates, in the presence of 
 his attendants, he told them, that they had broken 
 the league, by harbouring one of his enemies. 
 The magistrates, as may well be supposed, denied 
 it ; and stared at each other, profoimdly ignorant 
 what enemy he could mean. He then turned 
 towards the statue, and knitting his brows, said, 
 “ Is not this my enemy that stands here ?” The 
 poor Milanese were struck dumb with astonish- 
 ment ; but Caesar told them, with a smile, that he 
 was pleased to find them faithful to their friends 
 in adversit}', and ordered that the statue should 
 continue where it was. 
 
 ARTAXERXES. 
 
 The first Artaxerxes, who of all the Persian kings 
 was most distinguished for his moderation and 
 greatness of mind, was sumamed Longimamis, 
 because his right hand was longer than his left. 
 He was the son of Xerxes. The second Arta- 
 xerxes, sumamed Mnemon* whose life we are 
 going to write, was son to the daughter of the 
 first. For Darius, by his wife Paiysatis, had 
 four sons ; Artaxerxes the eldest, Cyms the 
 second, and Ostanes and Oxathres the tw'O 
 younger. C>ttus was called after the ancient 
 king of that name, as he is said to have been after 
 the sun ; for the Persians call the sun Cyr^is. 
 Artaxerxes at first was named Arsicas,”}* though 
 
 * So called on account of his extraordinary 
 memory. 
 
 t OrArsaces. 
 
 Dinon asserts that his original name was Oartes.J 
 But though Ctesias has filled his books with a 
 number of incredible and extravagant fables, it is 
 not probable that he should be ignorant of the 
 name o! a king at whose court he lived, in quality 
 of physician to him, his ^vife, his mother, and his 
 children. 
 
 Cyrus from his infancy was of a Holent and im- 
 petuous temper ; but Artaxerxes had a native 
 mildness, something gentle and moderate in his 
 whole disposition. The latter married a beautiful 
 and virtuous lady, by order of his parents, and he 
 kept her when they wanted him to put her away. 
 For the king having put her brother to death,! 
 
 i Or Oarses. 
 
 § Teriteuchmes, the brother of Statira, had been 
 guilty of the complicated crimes of adulteiy’, in- 
 
68o 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 designed that she should share his fate. But 
 Arsicas applied to his mother with many tears 
 and entreaties, and, with much difficulty, pre- 
 vailed upon her not only to spare her life, but to 
 excuse him from divorcing her. Yet his mother 
 had the greater affection for Cyrus, and was 
 desirous of raising him to the throne ; therefore, 
 when he was called from his residence on the 
 coast, in the sickness of Darius, he returned full 
 of hopes that the queen’s interest had established 
 him successor. Parysatis had, indeed, a specious 
 pretence, which the ancient Xerxes had made use 
 of at the suggestion of Demaratus, that she had 
 brought Darius his son Arsicas when he was in 
 a^private station, but Cyrus when he was a king. 
 However, _ she could not prevail. Darius ap- 
 pointed his eldest son his successor; on which 
 occasion his name was changed to Artaxerxes. 
 Cyrus had the government of Lydia, and was to 
 be commander in chief on the coast. 
 
 Soon after the death of Darius, the king, his 
 successor, went to Pasargadse, in order to be con- 
 secrated, according to custom, by the priests of 
 Persia. In that city there is the temple of a god- 
 dess who has the affairs of war under her patron- 
 ^e, and therefore may be supposed to be Minerva. 
 The prince to be consecrated must enter that 
 temple, put off his own robe there, and take that 
 which \^s worn by the Great Cyrus before he was 
 king. He must eat a cake of figs, chew some 
 drink a cup of acidulated milk. 
 Whether there are any other ceremonies is un- 
 kngwn, except to the persons concerned. As 
 Artaxerxes was on the point of going to be con- 
 secrated, Tissaphernes brought to him a priest, 
 
 cest, and murder; which raised great disturb- 
 ances in the royal family, and ended in the ruin 
 of all who were concerned in them. Statira was 
 *^^PSfiter to Hydarnes, governor of one of the 
 ^ 17^ j Pf of the empire. Artaxerxes, then 
 called Arsaces, was charmed with her beauty, and 
 married her. At the same time Teriteuchmes, 
 her brother, married Hamestris, one of the 
 daughters of Darius, and sister to Arsaces ; by 
 reason of which marriage he had interest enough, 
 on his father s demise, to get himself appointed to 
 his government. But m the mean time he con- 
 ceived_ a passion for his own sister Roxana, no 
 ways inferior in beauty to Statira ; and, that he 
 might enjoy her without constraint, resolved to 
 despatch his wife Hamestris, and light up the 
 flames of rebellion in the kingdom. Darius being 
 apprised of his design, engaged Udiastres, an 
 intimate friend of Teriteuchmes, to kill him and 
 was rewarded by the king with the government of 
 his province. Upon this some commotions were 
 raised by the son of Teriteuchmes ; but the king’s 
 ^rces having the superiority, all the family of 
 Mydames were apprehended, and delivered to 
 l^arysatis, that she might execute her revenge 
 upon them for the injury done, or intended, to her 
 daughter, lhat cruel princess put them all to 
 death, except Statira, whom she spared, at the 
 earnest entreaties of her husband Arsaces, con- 
 trary to the opmion of Darius. But Arsaces was 
 no sooner settled upon the throne, than Statira 
 prevailed upon him to leave Udiastres to her cor- 
 rection ; and she put him to a death too cruel to be 
 ae^ribed. Parysates, in return, poisoned the son 
 ; and, not long after, Statira her- 
 seit. Ctes. in Pers. 
 
 who had been chief inspector of Cyrus’s education 
 in his infancy, and had instructed him in the 
 learning of the Magi; and therefore might be 
 supposed to be as inuch concerned as any man 
 m P^sia, at his pupil not being appointed king. 
 t or that reason his accusation against Cyrus could 
 not but gam credit. He accused him of a design to 
 hem wait for the king in the temple, and, after 
 he had put off his garment, to fall upon him and 
 destroy him. Some affirm that Cyrus was imme- 
 diately seized upon this information ; others, that 
 fif temple, and concealed himself 
 
 there, but was pointed out by the priest ; in con- 
 sequence of which he was to be put to death ; but 
 his mother, at that moment, took him in her arms 
 bound the tresses of her hair about him, held his 
 neck to her own, and by her tears and entreaties 
 prevailed to have him pardoned, and remanded to 
 the sea coast. Nevertheless, he was far from 
 being satisfied with his government. Instead of 
 thinking of his brother’s favour with gratitude, he 
 remembered only the indignity of chains ; and, in 
 his resentment, aspired more than ever after the 
 sovereignty. 
 
 Some, indeed, say, that he thought the allow- 
 ance for his table insufficient, and therefore re- 
 volted from his king. But this is a foolish pretext : 
 for if he had no pther resource, his mother would 
 r 7^^ ^^Tpiicd him with whatever he wanted out 
 of h^ revenues. Besides, there needs no greater 
 proof of his riches than the number of foreign 
 troops that he entertained in his service, which 
 were kept for him in various parts by his friends 
 and retainers : for, the better to conceal his pre- 
 parations, he did not keep his forces in a body, 
 but had his emissaries in different places, who 
 enlisted foreigners on various pretences. Mean- 
 while his mother, who lived^ at court, made it her 
 business to remove the king’s suspicions, and 
 Cyrus^ himself always wrote in a lenient style ; 
 sometimes begging a candid interpretation, and 
 sometimes recriminating upon Tissaphernes, as if 
 his contention had been solely with that grandee. 
 
 that the king had a dilatory turn of 
 mind, which was natural to him, and which many 
 took for moderation. At first, indeed, he seemed 
 entirely to imitate the mildness of the first 
 Artaxerxes, whose name he bore, by behaving 
 S^^at affability to all that addressed him, 
 and distributing honours and rewards to persons 
 of merit with a lavish hand. He took care that 
 punishments should never be embittered with 
 insult. If he received presents, he appeared as 
 well pleased as those who offered them, or rather 
 as those who received favours from him ; and in 
 conferring favours, he always kept a countenance 
 of benignity and pleasure. There was not any- 
 thing, however trifling, brought him by way of 
 present, which he did not receive kindly. Even 
 when one Omisus brought him a pomegranate of 
 unccMnmon size, he said, “ By the light of Mithra, 
 this man, if he were made governor of a small 
 city, would soon make it a great one.” When he 
 was once upon a journey, and people presented 
 him with a variety of things by the way, a la- 
 bouring man, having nothing else to give him, 
 ran to the river, and brought him some water in 
 his hands. Artaxerxes was so much pleased that 
 he sent the man a gold cup and looo darics. 
 When Euclidas, the Lacedsemonian, said many 
 insolent things to him, he contented himself with 
 ordering the captain of his guard to give him this 
 
ARTAXERXES, 
 
 vfrfT. < . may say -vvhat you please to the 
 lang , but the king would have you to know, that 
 be not o^y say, but do/' One day, as he 
 was huntmg, Tinbazus showed him a rent in his 
 robe; u^n which the king said, “What shall 
 rr.. °° another, and give that 
 
 to nae, said Tmbazus. “It shall be so,” said 
 tbe king : I give it thee, but I charge thee not 
 
 to wear it. Tmbazus, who, though not a bad 
 ma^, was giddy and vain, disregarded the re- 
 striction soon put on the robe, and at the same 
 time tricked himself out with some golden orna- 
 ments, fit only for queens. The court expressed 
 p’eat mdignation ; because it was a thing con- 
 trary to them laws and customs : but the kin? 
 only laughed, and said to him, “ I allow thee to 
 we^ the trmkets as a woman, and the robe as a 
 madman. 
 
 None had been admitted to the king of Persia’s 
 table but his mother and his wife ; the former of 
 which sat above him, and the latter below him : 
 Aitaxerxes, nevertheless, did that honour to Os- 
 ' ^ (^athres, tv’o of his younger brothers, 
 
 -tsut what afforded the Persians the most pleasing 
 ^ectacle was the queen Statira alwaj’^s riding in 
 i^r chariot with the curtains open, and admitting 
 the w^en of the country to approach and ^ute 
 ber. ^hese things made his administration popu- 
 lar. Yet there were some turbulent and factious 
 men, who represented that the affairs of Persia 
 requmed a king of such a magnificent spirit, 
 ^ able a warrior, and so generous a master as 
 U5rrus was ; and that the dignity of so great an 
 empme could not be supported without a prince 
 ot high thoughts and noble ambition. It was 
 imt, therefore, without^ a confidence in some of 
 the ^rsians, as well as in the maritime provinces, 
 that Cyrus undertook the war. 
 
 He v/rote also to the Lacedaemonians for assist- 
 ance ; promising, that to the foot he would give 
 horses, and to the horsemen chariots ; that on 
 those who had farms he would bestow villages 
 and on those who had villages, cities. As for 
 their pay, he assured them it should not be 
 counted, but measured out to them. At the 
 same tune he spoke in very high terms of him- 
 self, telling them he had a greater and more 
 princely heart than his brother ; that he was the 
 better philosopher, being instructed in the doc- 
 tnnes of the Magi, and that he could drink and 
 be^ more wine than his brother. Artaxerxes, he 
 said, was so tmorous and effeminate a man that 
 he could not sit a horse in hunting, nor a chariot 
 in tin^ of war. The Lacedaemonians, therefore, 
 ^nt the scytale to Clearchus, with orders to serve 
 C3^s m everything he demanded.* 
 
 Cyrus began his march against the king with 
 a num^ous army of barbarians, t and almost 
 13,000 Greek mercenaries, f He found one pre- 
 
 681 
 
 They took care not to mention Artaxerxes, 
 pretending not to be privy to the designs that 
 were caro-ing on against him. This precaution 
 they used, that m case Artaxerxes should get the 
 better of his brother, they might justify them- 
 selves to him in what they had done. Xenoph 
 ae Expedit. Cy 7 i. 1. i. 
 t A hundred thousand barbarians. 
 
 11 Lacedaemonian, commanded 
 
 ah the Peloponnesian troops, except the Ach^ans, 
 who were led by Socrates of Achaia. The 
 Boeotians w^ere under Proxenes, a Theban ; and 
 
 tence ^ter another for having such an armament 
 on toot ; but his real designs did not remain long 
 im^covered. For Tissaphemes went in person 
 to inform the king of them. 
 
 This news put the court in great disorder. 
 Barysatis was censured as the principal cause of 
 tnia war, and her friends were suspected of a 
 pnyate mtelligence with Cyrus. Statira, in her 
 distress about the war, gave Par^^satis the most 
 trouble. ^yhere is now,” she cried, “ that faith 
 which you pledged? Where your intercessions, 
 by which you saved the man that was conspiring 
 agamst his brother ? Have they not brought 
 war and all its calamities upon us ?” These ex- 
 postulations fixed in the heart of Parysatis, who 
 W’^as naturally vindictive and barbarous in her 
 resentment and revenge, such a hatred of Statira 
 that she contrived to take her off. Dinon writes, 
 that this cruel purpose wns put in execution 
 dunng the w'ar ; but Ctesias assures us, it was 
 alter it. _And it is not probable that he, who wns 
 an ^e-witness to the transactions of that court, 
 could either be ignorant of the time when the 
 assassmation took place, or could have any 
 r^n to misrepresent the date of it ; though he 
 olten deviates into fictitious tales, and loves to 
 give us invention instead of truth. We shall 
 leave this storj^ to the order of time in 
 which he has placed it. 
 
 Wliile Cyrus was upon his march, he had 
 accounts brought him that the king did not design 
 to try the fortune of the field by giving battle* 
 unmediately but to wait in Persia till his forces 
 were assembled there from all parts of his kingdom, 
 i^d though he had drawn a trench across the 
 piain ten fathoms wide, as many deep,* and 400 
 furlongs m length, yet he suffered Cyrus to pass 
 mm, and to march almost to Babylon. f Tiri- 
 bazus, v/e are told, was the first who ventured to 
 remonstrate to the king, that he ought not any 
 mnger to avoid an action, nor to abandon Media 
 Babylon, and even Susa to the enemy, and hide 
 himself in Persia since he had an army infinitely 
 greater than theirs, and 10,000 Satrapae and 
 Other officers, aU of them superior to those of 
 U3Trus, both m courage and conduct. 
 
 Upon this he took a resolution to come to action 
 as soon as possible. His sudden appearance with 
 an army of 900,000 men, well prepared and ac- 
 coutred, extremely surprised the rebels, who, 
 through the confidence they had in themselves, and 
 contempt of their enemy, were marching in great 
 contusion, and even without their arms. So that 
 It was with great difficulty that Cyrus reduced 
 them to any order ; and he could not do it at last 
 without much noise and tumult. As the king 
 advanced m silence, and at a slow pace, the good 
 
 the Thessalians under Menon. The other nations 
 were commanded by Persian generals, of W'hom 
 ^lacus wns the chief. The fleet consisted of 
 thirty-five ships, under Pythagoras, a Lacedae- 
 monian ; and twenty-five commanded by Tamos 
 an Lpptian, who was admiral of the whole fleet! 
 Un this occ^ion Proxenes presented Xenophon 
 to t^nis, who gave him a commission amongst 
 the Greek mercenaries. ^ 
 
 r X ^^^ophon says, this trench was only five 
 fathoms wide, and three deep. y uvc 
 
 t There w'as a passage twenty feet wide left 
 between the trench and the Euphrates, and Arm- 
 
 xerxes neglected to defend it. ^ 
 
682 
 
 PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 discipline of his troops afforded an astonishing 
 spectacle to the Greeks, who expected amongst 
 such a multitude nothing but disorderly shouts 
 and motions, and every other instance of distrac- 
 tion and confusion. He showed his judgment, 
 too, in placing the strongest of his armed chariots 
 before that part of his phalanx which was opposite 
 to the Greeks, that by the impetuosity of their 
 motion they might break the enemy’s ranks 
 before they came to close combat. 
 
 Many historians have described this battle ; 
 but Xenophon has done it with such life and 
 energy that we do not read an account of it we 
 see it, and feel all the danger. It w;ould be 
 very absurd, therefore, to attempt anything after 
 him, except the mentioning some material cir- 
 cumstances which he has omitted. 
 
 The place where the battle was fought is called 
 Cunaxa, and is 500 furlongs from Babylon. A 
 little before the action, Clearchus advised C^nrus 
 to post himself behind the Macedonians,* and not 
 risk his person ; upon which he is reported to 
 have said, “What advice is this, Clearchus? 
 Would you have me, at the very time I am aiming 
 at a crown, to show myseif unworthy of one? 
 Cyrus, indeed, committed an error in rushing into 
 the midst of the greatest danger without care or 
 caution ; but Clearchus was guilty of another as 
 great, if not greater, in not consenting to place 
 his Greeks opposite to the king, and in getting 
 the river on his right to prevent his being sur- 
 »rounded. For if safety was his principal object, 
 and he was by all means to avoid loss, he ought 
 to have stayed at home. But to carry his arms 
 10,000 furlongs from the sea, without necessity 
 or constraint, and solely wdth a view to place 
 Cyrus on the throne of Persia, and then not to be 
 solicitous for a post where- he might best defend 
 his prince whose pay he received, but for one in 
 which he might act most at ease and in the 
 greatest safety, wms to behave like a man who, on 
 the sight of present danger, abandons the whole 
 enterprise, and forgets the purpose of his ex- 
 pedition. For it appears, from the course of the 
 action, that if the Greeks had charged those that 
 were posted about the king’s person, they would 
 not have stood the shock ; and after Artaxerxes 
 had been slain, or put to flight, the conqueror 
 must have gained the crown without further 
 interruption. Therefore, the ruin of Cyrus’s 
 affairs and his death is much rather to be ascribed 
 to the caution of Clearchus, than to his own rash- 
 ness ; for, if the king himself had been to choose 
 a post for the Greeks, where they might do him 
 the least prejudice, he could not have pitched 
 upon a better than that which was most remote 
 from himself and the troops about him. At the 
 distance he was from Clearchus, he knew not of 
 the defeat of that part of his army which was near 
 the river, and Cyrus was cut off before he could 
 avail himself of the advantages gained by the 
 Greeks. Cyrus, indeed, was sensible what dis- 
 position would have been of most service to him, 
 and for that reason ordered Clea.rchus to charge in 
 the centre ; but Clearchus ruined all, notwith- 
 standing his assurances of doing everything for 
 the best : for the Greeks beat the barbarians with 
 ease, and pursued them a considerable way. 
 
 * This is undoubtedly the error of some tran- 
 scriber ; and for Macedonians we should read 
 Lacedsemonians. 
 
 In the mean time, Cyrus being mounted oa 
 Pasacas, a horse of great spirit, but at the same 
 time headstrong and unruly, fell in, as Ctesias 
 tells us, with Artagerses, general of the Caducians, 
 who met him upon the gallop, and called out to 
 him in these terms: “Most unjust and most 
 stupid of men, who disgracest the name of Cyrus, 
 the most august of all names among the Persians ; 
 thou leadest these brave Greeks a vile way to 
 plunder thy native country, and to destroy thy 
 brother and thy king, who has many millions of 
 servants that are better men than thou. Try if 
 he has not, and here thou shalt lose thy ^ head, 
 before thou canst see the face of the king.” So 
 saying, he threw his javelin at him with all his 
 force ; but his cuirass was of such excellent 
 
 temper that he was not wpunded, though the 
 violence of the blow shook him m his seat. Then 
 as Artagerses was turning his horse, Cyrus aimed 
 a stroke at him with his spear, and the point of it 
 entered at his collar-bone, and pierced through 
 his neck. That Artagerses fell by the hand of 
 Cyrus, almost all historians agree. As to the 
 death of Cyrus himself, since Xenophon has given 
 a very short account of it, because he was not 
 on the spot when it happened, perhaps it may not 
 be amiss to give the manner of it in detail, as 
 Dinon and Ctesias have represented it. 
 
 Dinon tells us, that Cyrus, after he had slam 
 Artagerses, charged the vanguard of Artaxerxes 
 with great fury, wounded the king’s horse and 
 dismounted him. Tiribazus inimediately mounted 
 him on another horse, and said, “ Sir, remember 
 this day, for it deserves not to be forgotten.’ _ At 
 the second attack, C^'^rus spurred his horse against 
 the king-, and gave him a wound ; ^ at the third, 
 Artaxerxes in great indignation, said to those that 
 w^ere by : “ It is better to die than to suffer^ all 
 this.” At the same time he advanced against 
 C5a-us, who was rashly advancing to meet a 
 shower of darts. The king wounded him with his 
 javelin, and others did the same. _ Thus fell 
 Cyrus, as some say, by the blow which the king 
 gave him, but, according to others, it was a 
 Carian soldier who despatched him, and >mo 
 afterwards, for his exploit, had the honour of 
 carrying a golden cock at the head of the army, 
 on the point of his spear. For the Persians called 
 the Carians cocks, on account of the crests with 
 which they adorned their helmets. 
 
 Ctesias’s story is very long, but the purport of 
 it is this. When Cyrus had slain Artagerses, he 
 pushed his horse up towards the king, and the 
 king advanced against him ; both in silenc^ 
 Ariacus, one of the friends of Cyrus, first aimed 
 a blow at the king, but did not wound him. 
 Then the king threw his javelin at Cyrus, but 
 missed him ; the w'eapon, however, did execution 
 upon TisapherneSjt a man of approved valour, 
 and a faithful servant to Cyrus. _ It was n<w 
 C3nrus’s turn to try his javelin ; it pierced the 
 king’s cuirass, and going two fingers deep into 
 his breast, brought him from his horse. Ihis 
 caused such disorder in his troops that they tied. 
 
 * Or, “ with the violence of the encounter, beat 
 the king from his horse.” 
 
 t Tisaphernes is probably an erroneous read- 
 ing. We know of no Tisaphernes but the grandee 
 of that name, who was a faithful servant to Ar- 
 taxerxes. One of the manuscripts gives us 
 Satiphernes. 
 
ARTAXERXES, 683 
 
 But the king recovering, retired with a few of his 
 men, among whom was Ctesias, to an eminence 
 not far off, and there reposed himself. In the 
 mean time, Cyrus’s horse, grown more furious by 
 the action, carried him deep amongst the enemy ; 
 and as night was coming on, they did not know 
 him, and his own men sought for him in vain. 
 Elated, however, with victory, and naturally 
 daring and impetuous, he kept on, crying out 
 in the Persian language as he went, “ Make 
 way, ye slaves, make way.” They humbled 
 themselves, and opened their ranks; but his 
 tiara happened to fall from his head, and a young 
 Persian, named Mithridates, in passing, wounded 
 him with his lance in the temple near his eye, 
 without knowing who he was. Such a quantity 
 of blood issued from the wound that he was 
 seized with a giddiness, and fell senseless from 
 his horse. The horse, having lost his rider, 
 wandered about the field ; the furniture too was 
 fallen off, and the ser\mnt of Mithridates, who 
 had given him the wound, took it up, all stained 
 with blood. 
 
 At last Cyrus, with much difficulty, began to 
 recover from his swoon ; and a few eunuchs, who 
 attended him, endeavoured to mount him on 
 another horse, and so to car^ him out of danger. 
 But as he was too weak to sit a horse, he thought 
 it better to walk, and the eunuchs supported him 
 as he went. His head was still heavy, and he 
 tottered at every step ; yet he imagined himself 
 victorious, because he heard the fugitives calling 
 Cyrus king, and imploring mercy. 
 
 At that instant some Caunians of mean con- 
 dition, who performed the most servile offices 
 for the royal arm 3% happened to mix v/ith the 
 company of Cyrus as friends. They perceived, 
 however, though not without difficulty, that the 
 clothing of his people was red, whereas that 
 given by the king their master was white. One 
 of these then ventured to give Cyrus a stroke 
 with his spear behind, without knowing him to 
 be the prince. The weapon hit his ham, and cut 
 the sinew ; upon which he fell, and in falling 
 dashed his wounded temple against a stone, and 
 died upon the spot. Such is Ctesias’s story of 
 the death of Cyrus, which, like a blunt weapon, 
 hacks and hews him a long time, and can hardly 
 kill him at last. 
 
 Soon after C^nais expired, an officer, who was 
 called the Kings Eye, passed that way. Arta- 
 syras (for that was his name), knowing the 
 eunuchs who were mourning over the corpse, 
 addressed him who appeared to be most faithful 
 to his master, and said, “ Pariscas, who is that 
 whom thou art lamenting so much?” “Oh, 
 Artasyras,” answered the eunuch, “ see you not 
 Prince Cyrus dead ? ” Artasj^ras was astonished 
 at the event ; however, he desired the eunuch to 
 compose himself, and take care of the corpse ; 
 and then rode at full speed to Artaxerxes, who 
 had given up all for lost, and was ready to faint, 
 both with thirst and with the anguish of his 
 wound. In these circumstances the officer found 
 him, and with a joyful accent hailed him in these 
 words, “ I have seen Cyrus dead.” The king at 
 first was impatient to see the dead body himself, 
 and commanded Artasyras immediatelv to con- 
 duct him to it. But finding all the field full of 
 terror and dismay, upon a report that the Greeks, 
 victorious in their quarter, were pursuing the 
 fugitives and putting all to the sword, he thought 
 
 proper to send out a greater number to recon- 
 noitre the place which Artasyras had told him 
 of. Accordingly thirty men went with flambeaux 
 in their hands. Still the king was almost dying 
 with thirst, and the eunuch Satibarzanes sought 
 every place for water ; for the field afforded none, 
 and they were at a great distance from the camp. 
 After much search, he found one of those poor 
 Caunians had about two quarts of bad water in 
 a mean bottle, and he took it and carried it to 
 the king. After the king had drank it all up, 
 the eunuch asked him if he did not find it a 
 disagreeable beverage. Upon which he swore 
 by all the gods, that he had never drank the 
 most delicious wine, nor the lightest and clearest 
 water, with so much pleasure. “I wish onl>%” 
 continued he, “that I could find the man who 
 gave it thee, that I might make him a recom- 
 pense. In the mean time I entreat the gods to 
 make him happy and rich.” 
 
 While he was speaking, the thirty men whom 
 he had sent out returned in great exultation, and 
 confirmed the news of his unexpected good for- 
 tune. Now, likewise, numbers of his troops re- 
 paired to him again, and dismissing his fears, he 
 descended from the eminence, with many torches 
 carried before him. When he came to the dead 
 body, according to the law of the Persians, the 
 right hand and the head were cut off ; and having 
 ordered the head to be brought to him, he took 
 it by the hair, which was long and thick, and 
 showed it to the fugitives, and to such as were 
 still doubtful of the fortune of the day. They 
 were astonished at the sight, and prostrated 
 themselves before him. Seventy thousand men 
 soon assembled about him, and with them he 
 returned to his camp. Ctesias tells us, he had 
 led 400,000 men that day into the field ; but 
 Dinon and Xenophon make that number much 
 greater. As to the number of the killed, Ctesias 
 says, an account only of 9000 was brought to 
 Artaxerxes; whereas there appeared to Ctesias 
 himself to be no fewer than 20,000. That article, 
 therefore, must be left dubious. But nothing 
 can be a more palpable falsity than what Ctesias 
 adds, that he was sent ambassador to the Greeks 
 in conjunction with Phayllus, the Zac>mthian, 
 and some others ; for Xenophon knew that 
 Ctesias v<as at the Persian court : he mentions 
 him in his works, and it is plain that he had met 
 with his books. Therefore, if he had been joined 
 in commission to settle such important affairs, he 
 would not have passed him by unnoticed, but 
 would have mentioned him with Phayllus. 
 Ctesias, indeed, was a man of unbounded vanitj'-, 
 as well as strong attachment to Clearchus ; and 
 for that reason always leaves a corner in the 
 story for himself, when he is dressing out the 
 praises of Clearchus and the Lacedaemonians. 
 
 After the battle, the king sent great and 
 valuable presents to the son of Artagerses, who 
 was slain by Cyrus. He rewarded also Ctesias 
 and others in a distinguished manner ; and hav- 
 ing found the Caunian who gave him the bottle 
 of water, he raised him, from indigence and 
 obscurity, to riches and honours. There was 
 something of an analogy between his punish- 
 ments and the crime. One Arbaces, a Mede, in 
 the battle deserted to Cyrus, and, after that 
 rince was killed, came back to his colours. As 
 e perceived that the man had done it rather out 
 of cowardice than any treasonable design, all the 
 
6S4 
 
 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 penalty he laid upon him was to carry about a 
 naked courtesan upon his shoulders a whole day 
 in the market-place. Another, besides deserting, 
 had given it out that he had killed two of the 
 enemy ; and for his punishment, he only ordered 
 his tongue to be pierced through with three 
 needles. 
 
 He supposed, and he was desirous of having 
 it pass upon the world, that Cyrus fell by his 
 hand. This induced him to send valuable pre- 
 sents to Mithridates, who gave him the first 
 wound, ^d to instruct the messengers to say, 
 “The king does you this honour, because you 
 found the furniture of Cyrus’s horse, and brought 
 it to him.” And when the Carian, who gave 
 Cyrus the stroke in his ham that caused his 
 death, asked for his reward, he ordered those 
 who gave it him to say, “The king bestows this 
 upon you, because you were the second person 
 that brought him good tidings. For Artasyras 
 was the first, and you the next that brought him 
 an account of the death of Cyrus.” Mithridates 
 went away in silence, though not without con- 
 cern. But the unhappy Carian could not conquer 
 the common disease of vanity. Elated with what 
 he_ thought his_ good fortune, and aspiring to 
 things above his walk in life, he would not re- 
 ceive his reward for tidings, but angrily insisted, 
 and called the gods and men to witness, that he, 
 and no other man, killed Cyrus : and that it was 
 not just to rob him of the glory. 
 
 The king was so much incensed at this that he 
 ordered the man’s head to be cut off. But his 
 mqther Parysatis being present, said, “Let not 
 this villainous Carian go off so : leave him to me, 
 and he shall have the reward which his audacious 
 tongue deserves.” Accordingly the king gave 
 him up to her, and she delivered him to the 
 executioners, with orders to torture him for ten 
 days, and then to tear out his eyes, and pour 
 molten brass into his ears, till he expired. 
 
 Mithridates also came to a miserable end soon 
 after, through his own folly. Being invited one 
 evening to supper, where both the eunuchs of 
 the king, and those of his mother were present, 
 he went in a robe embroidered with gold, which 
 he had received from the king. During the 
 entertainment, Parysatis’s principal eunuch took 
 occasion to say, “ What a beautiful garment is 
 this, Mithridates, which the king has given you ! 
 how handsome are those bracelets and that chain i 
 how valuable your scimitar ! he has certainly 
 made you not only a great, but a happy man.” 
 Mithridates, who by this time was flushed with 
 wine, niade answer, “ What are these things, 
 Sparamixes? I deserve much greater marks of 
 honour than these for -the services I rendered the 
 king that day.” Then Sparamixes replied, with 
 a smile, “ I speak not in the least out of en\^ ; 
 but since, according to the Greek, proverb, there 
 is truth in wine, let me tell you my mind freel3^ 
 and ask you what great matter it is to find a 
 horse’s furniture fallen off, and bring it to the 
 king.” This he said, not that he was ignorant 
 of the real state of the case; but because he 
 wanted to lay him open, and saw that the wine 
 had made him _ talkative, and taken him off his 
 guard, he studied to pique his vanity. Mithri- 
 dates, no longer master of himseif, said, “You 
 may talk of what furniture and what trifles you 
 please ; but I tell you plainly, it was by this 
 hand that Cyrus was slain. For I did not, like | 
 
 Artagerses, throw my javelin in vain, but pierced 
 his temples near the eye, and brought him to the 
 ground ; and of that wound he died.” The rest 
 of the company saw the dreadful fate that would 
 befall Mithridates, and looked with dejected eyes 
 upon the ground ; but he who gave the entertain- 
 ment said, “Let us now attend to our eating and 
 drinking ; and adoring the fortune of the king, 
 let such matters alone as are too high for us.” 
 Immediately after the company broke up, the 
 eunuch told Parysatis what had been said, and 
 she informed the king. Artaxerxes, like a person 
 detected, and one who had lost a victory out of 
 his hands, was enraged at this discovery. For 
 he was desirous of making all the barbarians and 
 Greeks believe, that in the several encounters he 
 both gave and received blows ; and that though 
 he was wounded himself, he killed his adversary. 
 He therefore condemned Mithridates to the 
 punishment of the Boat. The manner of it is 
 this. They take two boats, which are made to 
 fit each other, and extend tjie criminal in one 
 of them in a supine posture. Then they turn 
 the other upon it, so that the poor wretch’s body 
 is covered, and only the head and hands are out 
 at one^ end, and the feet at the other. They give 
 him victuals daily, and if he refuses to eat, they 
 compel him by pricking him in the eyes. After 
 he has eaten, they make him drink a mixture 
 of honey and milk, which they pour into his 
 mouth. They spread the same, too, over his 
 face, and always turn him so as to have the sun 
 full in his eyes ; the consequence of which is, 
 that his face is covered with swarms of flies. As 
 all the necessary evacuations of a man who eats 
 and dripks are within the boat, the filthiness and 
 corruption engender a quantity of worms, which 
 consume his flesh, and penetrate to his entrails. 
 When they find that the man is dead, they take 
 off the upper boat, and have the spectacle of a 
 carcase whose flesh is eaten away, and of number- 
 less vermin clinging to and gnawing the bowels. 
 Mithridates with much difficulty found death, 
 after he had been consumed in this manner for 
 seventeen days. 
 
 There remained now no other mark for the 
 vengeance of Parysatis, but Mesabates, one of 
 the king’s eunuchs, who cut off Cyrus’s head 
 and hand.^ As he took care to give her no handle 
 against him, she laid this scheme for his destruc- 
 tion. She was a woman of keen parts in all 
 respects, and. in particular she played well at 
 dice. The king often played with her before the 
 war, and being reconciled to her after it, took 
 the same diversion with her. She was even the 
 confidant of his pleasures, and scrupled not to 
 assist him in any thing of gallantry. 
 
 Statira indeed was the object of her hatred, 
 and she let her have a very small share of the 
 king’s^ company ; for she was determined to have 
 the principal interest with him herself. One day, 
 finding Artaxerxes wanted something to pass 
 away the^ time, she challenged him to play for 
 looo daricSy and purposely managed her dice 
 so ill, that she lost. She paid the money im- 
 mediately, but pretended to be much chagrined, 
 and called on him to play again for a eunuch. 
 He consented to the proposal, and they agreed 
 each of them to except five of their most faithful 
 eunuchs ; the winner was to have his choice out 
 of the rest. On these conditions they played. 
 The queen, who had the affair at heart, exerted 
 
ARTAXERXES. 
 
 685 
 
 all her skill, and, being favoured besides by the 
 dice, won the eunuch, and pitched upon Mesa- 
 bates, who was not of the number of the excepted. 
 He was immediately delivered to her, and before 
 the king suspected anything of her intentions, she 
 put him in the hands of the executioners, with 
 orders to flay him alive, to fix his body on three 
 stakes, and to stretch out his skin by itself. The 
 king was highly incensed, and expressed his 
 resentment in strong terms : but she only said 
 in a laughing ironical way, “ This is pleasant 
 indeed, that you must be so angry about an old 
 useless eunuch, while I say not a word of my 
 loss of 1000 darics.” The king, though much 
 concerned at the imposition, held his peace. But 
 Statira, who on other occasions openly censured 
 the practice of the queen-mother, complained 
 now of her injustice and cruelty, in sacrificing 
 to Cyrus the eunuchs, and other faithful servants 
 of the king. 
 
 After Tissaphernes * had deceived Clearchus 
 and the other Grecian officers, and, contrary to 
 the treaty and' his oaths, put them in chains, 
 Ctesias tells us, that Clearchus made interest 
 with hirn for the recovery of a comb. When he 
 had obtained it, it seems, he was so much pleased 
 with the use of it, that he took his ring from his 
 finger, and gave it Ctesias, that it might appear 
 as a token of his regard for him to his ^ends and 
 relations in Lacedaemon. The device was a dance 
 of the Caryatides.^ He adds, that whenever 
 provisions were sent to Clearchus, his fellow- 
 prisoners took most of them for themselves, and 
 left him a very small share : but that he cor- 
 rected this abuse, by procuring a larger quantity 
 to be sent to Clearchus, and separating the allow- 
 ance of the others from his. All this (according 
 to our author) was done with the consent, and by 
 the favour of Parysatis. As he sent every day a 
 gammon of bacon among the provisions, Clear- 
 chus suggested to him, that he might easily con- 
 ceal a small dagger in the fleshy part, and begged 
 earnestly that he would do it, that his fate might 
 not be left to the cruel disposition of Artaxerxes ; 
 but, through fear of the king’s displeasure, he 
 refused it. The king, however, at the request 
 of his mother, promised upon oath, not to put 
 Clearchus to death ; but afterwards he was per- 
 suaded, by Statira, to destroy all the prisoners, 
 except Menon. On this account he tells us 
 Par^^satis plotted against Statira, and resolved 
 to take her off by poison. But it is a great 
 absurdity in Ctesias to assign so disproportionate 
 a cause. Would Parysatis, for the sake of Clear- 
 chus, undertake so horrid and dangerous an 
 
 * Tissaphernes, by promises which he did not 
 intend to keep, drew Clearchus to an interview 
 in his tent. He went with four principal officers 
 and twenty captains to wait on the Persian, who 
 put Clearchus and the four officers under arrest, 
 and ordered the twenty captains to be cut in 
 pieces. Some time after the king commanded 
 Clearchus, and all the four officers, except Me- 
 non, to be beheaded. Xenoph. de Exped, Cyri. 
 1 . ii. 
 
 t Cary a was a town in Laconia, where there 
 was a temple of Diana. Indeed the whole town 
 was dedicated to Diana and her nymphs. In the 
 court before the temple stood a statue of Diana 
 Caryatis, and the Spartan virgins kept a yearly 
 festival on which they danced round it. 
 
 enterprise as that of poisoning the king’s lawful 
 wife, by whom he had children and an heir to 
 his crown ? It is clear enough that he tells this 
 fabulous tale to do honour to the memory of 
 Clearchus. For he adds, that the carcases of 
 the other officers were tom in pieces by dogs 
 and birds ; but that a storm of wind brought a 
 great heap of sand, and provided a tomb for 
 Clearchus. Around this heap there spmng up 
 a number of palm-trees, which soon grew into 
 an admirable grove, and spread their protecting 
 shade over the place ; so that the king repented 
 greatly of what he had done, believing that he 
 had destroyed a man who was a favourite of the 
 gods. 
 
 It was, therefore, only from the hatred and 
 jealousy which Parysatis had entertained of 
 Statira from, the first, that she embarked in so 
 cruel a design. She saw that her own power 
 with the king depended only on his reverence 
 for her as his mother; whereas that of Statira 
 was founded in love, and confirmed by the 
 greatest confidence in her fidelity. The point 
 she had to carry was great, and she resolved 
 to make one desperate effort. She had a faithful 
 and favourite attendant, named Gigis, who, as 
 Dion tells us, assisted in the affair of the poison ; 
 but, according to Ctesias, she was only conscious 
 of it, and that against her will. The former calls 
 the person, who provided the poison, Llelantas ; 
 the latter, Belitaras. 
 
 These two princesses had, in appearance, forgot 
 their old suspicions and animosities, and began 
 to visit and eat at each other’s table. But they 
 did it with so much distrust and caution as to 
 make it a rule to eat of the same dish, and even of 
 the^ same slices. There is a small bird in Persia, 
 which has no excrements, the intestines being 
 only filled with fat ; on which account it is sup- 
 posed to live upon air and dew ; the name of it 
 is rhyntaces. Ctesias writes, that Parysatis 
 divided one of these birds with a small knife that 
 was poisoned on one side, and taking the whole- 
 somer part herself, gave the other to Statira. 
 Dion, however, affirms, that it was not Parysatis, 
 but Melantas, who cut the bird in two, and pre- 
 sented the poisoned part to Statira. Be that as 
 it may, she died in dreadful agonies and convul- 
 sions; and was not only sensible herself of the 
 cause, but intimated her suspicions to the king, 
 who knew too well the savage and implacable 
 temper of his mother : he, therefore, immediately 
 made an inquisition into the affair. He took 
 her officers and servants that attended at her 
 table, and put them to the torture. But she kept 
 Gigis in her own apartment ; and when the king 
 demanded her, refused to give her up. At last 
 Gigis begged of the queen-mother to let her go in 
 the night to her own house ; and the king being 
 informed of it, ordered some of his guards to 
 intercept her. Accordingly she was seized and 
 condemned to die. The laws of Persia have 
 provided this punishment for poisoners : their 
 heads are placed on a broad stone, and then 
 crushed with another, till nothing of the figure 
 remains. In that manner was Gigis executed. 
 As for Parysatis, the king did not reproach her 
 with her crime, nor punish her any farther than 
 by sending her to Babylon (which was the place 
 she desired to retire to), and declaring that he 
 would never visit that city while she lived. Such 
 was the state of his domestic affairs. 
 
686 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 He was no less solicitous to get the Greeks into 
 liis hands, who had followed Cyrus into Asia, 
 than he had been to conquer Cyrus himself, and 
 to keep the crown. But he could not succeed.* 
 For though they had lost Cyrus their general, 
 and their own officers, yet they forced their way, 
 as it were, out of the very palace of Artaxerxes, 
 and made it appear to all the world that the 
 Persians and their king had nothing to value 
 themselves upon but wealth, luxury, women, and 
 that the rest was mere parade and ostentation. 
 This gave fresh spirits to the Greeks, and taught 
 them to despise the barbarians. The Lacedse- 
 monians, in particular, thought it would be a 
 great dishonour, if they did not now deliver the 
 Asiatic Greeks from servitude, and put an end to 
 the insults of the Persians. Their first attempt 
 was under the direction of Thimbro, and the next 
 under that of Dercyllidas ; but as those generals 
 effected nothing of importance, the conduct of 
 the war was given to Agesilaus. That prince 
 immediately passed into Asia v/ith his fleet, and 
 soon distinguished himself by his vigorous opera- 
 tions : for he defeated Tissaphernes in a pitched 
 battle, and brought over several cities. 
 
 By these losses Artaxerxes understood what 
 was his best method of making war. He there- 
 fore sent Hermocrates, the Rhodian, into Greece, 
 with a great quantity of gold, having instructed 
 him to corrupt with it the leading men amongst 
 the states, and to stir up a Grecian war against 
 Lacedaemon. 
 
 Hermocrates acquitted himself so well in his 
 commission that the most considerable cities 
 leagued against Sparta, and there were such 
 commotions in Peloponnesus that the magistrates 
 were forced to recall Agesilaus from Asia. On 
 leaving that country he is reported to have said 
 to his Iriends, “The king drives me out of Asia 
 with 30,000 archers.” for the Persian money 
 bore the impression of an archer. 
 
 Artaxerxes deprived the Lacedsemonians of the 
 dominion of the sea, by means of Conon, the 
 Athenian, who acted in conjunction with Pharna- 
 bazus. For Conon, after he had lost the sea-fight 
 at iFgos Potamos, took up liis abode in Cyprus ; 
 not merely to provide for his own safety, but to 
 wait for a change of affairs, as mariners wait for 
 the turn of the tide. As he saw that his own 
 plan wanted a respectable power to carry it into 
 execution, and that the Persian power required a 
 person of ability to conduct it, he v/rote the king 
 an account of the measures he had concerted. 
 The messenger was ordered to get the letter 
 
 * The Greeks were at a vast distance from 
 their own country, in the very heart of the 
 Persian empire, surrounded by a numerous army 
 flushed with victory ; and had no way to return 
 again into Greece, but by forcing their retreat 
 through an immense tract of the enemy’s country. 
 But their valour and resolution mastered all these 
 difficulties, and, in spite of a powerful army which 
 pursued and harassed them all the way, they 
 made a retreat of 2325 miles, through the pro- 
 vinces belonging to the Persians, and got safe to 
 the Greek cities on the Euxine sea. Clearchus 
 had the conduct of this march at first ; but he 
 being cut off by the treachery of Tissaphernes, 
 Xenophon was chosen in his room ; and to his 
 valour and wisdom it was chiefly owing that at 
 length they got safe into Greece. 
 
 delivered into his hands by Zeno the Cretan, who 
 danced in the revels, or by Polycritus the Men- 
 dsean, who was his physician ; and in case of 
 their absence, by Ctesias, another physician. 
 The letter, we are told, was given to Ctesias, 
 and he added to it this paragraph, “ I desire you, 
 sir, to send Ctesias to me, for he will be very 
 serviceable in the business of the navy.” But 
 Ctesias affirms, that the king, without any kind 
 of solicitation, put him upon this service. 
 
 After Artaxerxes had gained, by Conon and 
 Pharnabazus, the battle of Cnidus, which stripped 
 the Lacedaemonians of the empire of the sea, he 
 drew almost all Greece into his interest ; insomuch 
 that the celebrated peace, called the Peace of 
 Antalcidas, Was entirely of his modelling. Antal- 
 cidas was a Spartan, the son of Leon, and so 
 strongly attached to the king that he prevailed 
 with the Lacedaemonians to give up to him all 
 the Greek cities in Asia, and the islands which 
 are reckoned amongst its dependencies, to be 
 held as his tributaries, in virtue of the peace ; if 
 we can call that a peace by which Greece was 
 dishonoured and betrayed ; which was indeed so 
 vile a bargain that the most unsuccessful war 
 could have terminated in nothing more inglorious. 
 
 Hence it was that Artaxerxes, though, accord- 
 ing to Dinon’s account, he always detested the 
 other Spartans as the most impudent of men, yet 
 expressed a great regard for Antalcidas, when he 
 came to his court. One evening he took a chaplet 
 of flowers from his head, dipped it in the richest 
 essences, and sent it from his table to Antalcidas. 
 All the court was astonished at such a ma:^k of 
 tavour. But there seems to have been a propriety 
 in making him so ridiculous a compliment ; and 
 he was a fit man to wear such a crown, who could 
 take off Leonidas and Callicratides in a dance 
 before the Persians. Somebody happening to say 
 m the hearing of Agesilaus, “Alas for Greece! 
 when the Lacedaemonians are turning Persians,” 
 he corrected him an i said, “ No ; the Medes are 
 rather turning Lacedaemonians.” But the wit of 
 the expression did not remove the disgrace of the 
 thing. They lost their superiority in Greece by 
 the ill-fought battle of Leuctra, as they had lost 
 their honour by the vile conditions of this peace. 
 
 So long as Sparia kept the lead, the king ad- 
 mitted Antalcidas to the privileges of hospitality, 
 and called him his friend. But when, upon their 
 defeat at Leuctra, the Spartans sent Agesilaus 
 into Egypt, to get a supply of money, and Antal- 
 cidas went upon the same business to the Persian 
 court, Artaxerxes treated him with so much neg-. 
 lect alid contempt, that between the ridicule he 
 suffered from his enemies, and his fear of the 
 resentment of the ephori, he resolved, on his 
 return, to starve himself to death. Ismenias the 
 Theban, and Pelopidas, who had lately won 
 the battle of Leuctra, went also to the court of 
 Artaxerxes. Pelopidas submitted to nothing 
 unworthy of his country or character ; but 
 Ismenias being commanded to adore the king, 
 purposely let his ring fall from his finger, and 
 then, by stooping to take it up, appeared in 
 a posture of adoration. Timagoras the Athe- 
 
 * It was a compliment entirely out of character 
 to a Lacedaemonian, who, as such, was supposed 
 to value himself upon the simplicity of his 
 manners, and on avoiding all approaches to 
 luxury. 
 
ARTAXERXES. 
 
 687 
 
 nian, having given the king some secret intelli- 
 gence in a letter which he sent by a secretary 
 named Beluris, he was so much pleased, that he 
 made him a present of 10,000 darics. The same 
 Timagoras wanted a supply of cow’s milk, on 
 account of a languishing disorder, and Artaxerxes 
 ordered eighty cows for his use, which were to 
 follow him wherever he went. He likewise sent 
 him a bed with the necessary coverlets, and 
 Persian servants to make it, because he thought 
 the Greeks not skilled in that art ; and he ordered 
 him to be carried to the sea-side in a litter, on 
 account of his indisposition. To this we may add 
 the allowance for his table while he was at court, 
 which was so magnificent that Ostanes, the king’s 
 brother, one day said to him, “Timagoras, re- 
 member this table, for it is not so sumptuous for 
 nothing.” This was rather reproaching him with 
 his treason than calling for his acknowledgments : 
 and, indeed, Timagoras, on his return, was 
 capitally condemned by the Athenians for taking 
 bribes. 
 
 Artaxerxes, in some measure, atoned for the 
 causes of sorrow he gave the Greeks, by doing 
 one thing that afforded them great pleasure ; he 
 put Tissaphernes, their most implacable enemy, 
 to death. This he did partly at the instigation 
 of Parysatis, who added other charges to those 
 alleged against him ; for he did not long retain 
 his anger, but was reconciled to his mother, and 
 sent for her to court ; because he saw she had 
 understanding and spirit enough to assist in 
 governing the kingdom, and there now' remained 
 no farther cause of suspicions and uneasiness be- 
 tween them. From this time she made it a rule 
 to please the king in all her measures, and not to 
 oppose any of his inclinations, by which she 
 g?aned an absolute ascendant over him. She 
 erceived that he had a strong passion for one of 
 is ow'n daughters, named Atossa. He endea- 
 voured, indeed, to conceal it on his mother’s 
 account, and restrained it in public ; though, 
 according to some authors, he had already a 
 private commerce wdth the princess. Parysatis 
 no sooner suspected the intrigue, than she ca- 
 ressed her granddaughter more than ever ; and 
 was continually praising to Artaxerxes both her 
 beauty and her behaviour, in which she assured 
 him there was something great and worthy of a 
 crown. At last, she persuaded him to make her 
 his wife, without regarding the laws and opinions 
 of the Greeks : “ God,” said sh^s, “ has made you 
 a law to the Persians, and a rule of right and 
 wrong.” Some historians, amongst whom is Hera- 
 clides of Cumte, affirm, that Artaxerxes married 
 not only Atossa, but another of his daughters, 
 named Amestris, of whom w'e shall speak by-and- 
 by. His affection for Atossa w'as so strong that, 
 though she had a leprosy, which spread itself over 
 her body, he was not disgusted at it ; but he was 
 daily imploring Juno for her, and grasping the 
 dust of her temple ; for he paid his homage to no 
 other goddess. At the same time, by his order, 
 his great officers sent so many offerings to her 
 shrine that the whole space between the palace 
 and the temple, which w'as sixteen furlongs, w'as 
 filled with gold, silver, purple, and fine horses. 
 
 He sent Pharnabazus and Iphicrates to make 
 war upon the Egyptians ; but the expedition 
 miscarried through the difference w'hich happened 
 between the generals he employed. After this he 
 went in person against the Cadusians, with 300,000 
 
 foot, and 10,000 horse. Their country is rough 
 and^ uneven, and covered with perpetual fogs. 
 As it produces no com or fruits by cultivation, 
 the inhabitants, a fierce and warlike race of men, 
 live upon wdld pears, apples, and other things of 
 that kind. He, therefore, insensibly, fell into 
 great danger and distress ; for his troops could 
 find no provision there, nor could they be sup- 
 plied from any other place. They w’ere forced to 
 kill their beasts of burden, and eat them ; and 
 those became so scarce that an ass’s head wms 
 sold for sixty drachmas. The king’s table itself 
 was ill supplied ; and there remained only a 
 few horses, all the rest having been used for 
 food. 
 
 ^ In this extremity, Tiribazus, who often was in 
 high favour on account of his valour, and often 
 degraded for his levity, and w'ho, at this very 
 time, was Jn the greatest disgrace, saved the 
 king and his whole army by the followdng strata- 
 gem. _ The Cadusians having two kings, each 
 had his separate camp. Upon this Tiribazus 
 formed his scheme ; and, after he had communi- 
 cated it to Artaxerxes, went himself to one of 
 those princes, and sent his son to the other. 
 Each imposed upon the king he applied to, by 
 pretending that the other was going to send a 
 private embassy to Artaxerxes, to negotiate a 
 separate alliance. “ But if you are ^=/ise,” said 
 they, “you will be beforehand with your rival, 
 and we will assist you in the whole affair.” This 
 argument had its effect; and each, persuaded 
 that the other was undermining him out of envy, 
 sent his ambassadors ; the one with Tiribazus, 
 and the other with his son. As some time passed 
 before they returned, Artaxerxes began to sus- 
 pect ; and there were those who suggested that 
 Tiribazus had some traitorous design. The king 
 was extremely dejected, and repenting of the 
 confidence he had reposed in him, gave ear to all 
 the calumnies of his enemies. But at last Tiri- 
 bazus arrived, as did also his son, with the 
 Cadusian ambassadors, and peace was made with 
 both parties ; in consequence of which Tiribazus 
 returned with the king in greater esteem and 
 authority than ever. During this expedition, 
 Artaxerxes showed that timidity and effeminacy 
 ought not to be ascribed, as they generally are, 
 to the pomp and luxuries of life, but to a native 
 meanness and a depraved judgment : for neither 
 the gold, the purple, nor the jewels, which the 
 king always wore, and which were worth no less 
 than 12,000 talents, hindered him from bearing 
 the sanie fatigues and hardships with the meanest 
 soldier in his army. He took his quiver on his 
 back, and his buckler upon his arm, and quitting 
 his horse, would often march foremost up the 
 most craggy and difficult places ; insomuch that 
 others found their task much lighter, when they 
 saw the strength and alacrity with which he 
 proceeded : for he marched above 200 furlongs a 
 day. 
 
 At last he arrived at one of his own palaces, 
 where there were gardens and parks of great 
 extent and beauty, though the country around it 
 was naked and barren. As the weather was ex- 
 ceedingly cold, he permitted his men to cut wood 
 out of his own parks, without sparing either pine 
 or cypress ; and when the soldiers %vere loath to 
 touch trees of such size and beauty, he took an 
 axe in ’us own hand, and laid it to the finest tree 
 amongst them. After which they cut them down 
 
6S8 
 
 FLUTARCH^S LI FES. 
 
 without scruple, and having made a number of 
 fires, passed the night with great satisfaction. 
 
 He found, however, on his arrival at his capital, 
 that he had lost many brave men, and almost all 
 his horses ; and, imagining that he was despised 
 for his losses, and the ill success of the expedition, 
 he became suspicious of his grandees. Many of 
 them he put to death in anger, and more out of 
 fear ; for fear is the most sanguinary principle a 
 tyrant can act from ; courage, on the contrary, is 
 merciful, mild, and unsuspicious. Thus the most 
 timorous animals are the hardest to be tamed;- 
 but the more generous, having less suspicion, 
 because they have less feai*, fly not the caresses 
 and society of men. 
 
 Artaxerxes being now far advanced in years, 
 observed his sons making parties for the crown 
 amongst his friends and the rest of the nobility. 
 The more equitable part were for his leaving it to 
 his eldest son Darius, as he had received it from 
 his father in the same right. But his younger son 
 Ochus, who was an active man, and of a violent 
 spirit, had also a considerable interest among the 
 grandees. Besides, he hoped to gain his father 
 through Atossa ; for he paid his court to her, and 
 promised to make her the partner of his throne 
 upon the death of Artaxerxes. Nay, it was said 
 that he had already private familiarities with her. 
 Artaxerxes, though he was ignorant of this cir- 
 cumstance, resolved to cut off the hopes of Ochus 
 at once ; lest, following the daring steps of his 
 uncle Cyrus, he should involve the kingdom again 
 in civil wars. He therefore declared Darius his 
 successor, who was now twenty-five * years old, 
 and permitted him to wear the point of his tur- 
 ban t erect, as a mark of royalty. 
 
 As it is customary in Persia for the heir to ask 
 a favour of him that declared him such, which, if 
 possible, is always granted, Darius asked for 
 Aspasia, who had been the favourite mistress of 
 Cyrus, and was now one of the king’s concubines. 
 She was a native of Phoceainlonia, and her parents, 
 who were above the condition of slaves, had given 
 her a good education. One evening she was 
 introduced to Cyrus at supper with the other 
 women. ^ They approached him without scruple, 
 and received his jokes and caresses with pleasure ; 
 but Aspasia stood by in silence ; and when Cyrus 
 called her, she refused to go. Perceiving that 
 the chamberlains were about to compel her, she 
 said, “Whoever lays hands upon me shall repent 
 it.” Upon which the company looked upon her 
 as an unpolished creature ; but Cyrus was pleased, 
 and said, with a smile, to the person who brought 
 the women, “ Do not you see that of all you have 
 provided, this only has generous and virtuous 
 sentiments ! ” From this moment he attached 
 himself to her, loved her most of all his con- 
 cubines, and called her Aspasia the wise. When 
 Cyrus fell in battle, she was taken amongst the 
 plunder of his camp. 
 
 Arta.xerxes was much concerned at his son’s 
 request. For the barbarians are so extremely 
 jealous of their women, that capital punishment 
 is inflicted, not only on the man who speaks to, or 
 touches one of the king’s concubines, but on him 
 who approaches or passes their chariots on the 
 road. Arid though, in compliance with the dic- 
 tates of his passion, he had made Atossa his wife 
 
 * In the printed text it is Afty. 
 t Citaris. 
 
 contrary to law, he kept 360 concubines, all 
 wonien of the greatest beauty. However, when 
 Darius demanded Aspasia, he declared her free, 
 and said, she might go with him if she pleased ; 
 but he would do no violence to her inclinations. 
 Accordingly Aspasia was sent for, and, contrary 
 to the king’s expectation, made choice of Darius. 
 He gave her up to him, indeed, because he was 
 obliged to it by the law ; but he soon took her 
 away, and made her a priestess of Diana of 
 Ecbatana, whom they call Am'tis* that she 
 might pass the remainder of her life in chastity. 
 This he thought no severe revenge upon his son, 
 but a pleasant way of chastising his presumption. 
 But Darius highly resented the affront ; whether 
 it was that the charms of Aspasia had made a 
 deep impression upon him, or whether he thought 
 himself insulted and ridiculed by this proceeding. 
 
 Tiribazus seeing how much he was offended, 
 endeavoured to exasperate him still more. This 
 he did from a fellow feeling ; for he had suffered 
 an injury much of the same kind. The king, 
 having several daughters, promised to give Apama 
 to Pharnabazus, Rhodogune to Orontes, and 
 Amestris to Tiribazus. He kept his word with 
 the two first, but deceived Tiribazus ; for, instead 
 of giving Amestris to him, he married her 
 himself ; promising at the same time that he 
 should have his youngest daughter Atossa. But 
 he became enamoured of her too, and married 
 her, as we have already mentioned. This treat- 
 ment extremely incensed Tiribazus, who had, 
 indeed, nothing steady in his disposition ; but 
 was wild and irregular. One while successful, 
 and upon a footing with the greatest men in the 
 court,^ another while unacceptable to the king, 
 and sinking into disgrace, he bore no change of 
 fortune with propriety. If he was in favour, his 
 vanity was insupportable ; if in disgrace, instead 
 of being humble and quiet, he had recourse to 
 violence and ferocity. 
 
 His conversing with the young prince was, 
 therefore, adding flame to fire. “ What avails it,” 
 said he, “to have the point of your turban 
 advanced, if you seek not to advance your 
 authority?^ Nothing can be more absurd than 
 your thinking yourself secure of the succession, 
 while your brother is privately forwarding his 
 interest by means of the women, and your father 
 is so very foolish and unsteady. He who could 
 break one of the most sacred laws of the Persians, 
 for the sake of an insignificant Grecian woman, 
 is certainly not to be depended upon in more 
 important engagements. The case is quite differ- 
 ent between you and Ochus, as to the event of 
 the competition : if Ochus does not obtain the 
 crown, none will hinder him from living happily 
 in a private station; but you, who have been 
 declared king, must either reign or die.” On this 
 occasion was verified that observation of Sopho- 
 cles ; 
 
 Swift in its march 
 Is evil counsel. 
 
 The road which leads us to what we desire is 
 indeed smooth, and of an easy descent ; and the 
 desires of most men are vicious, because they 
 
 * Pausanias says, there was a temple of Diana 
 Anaitis in Lydia. But Justin tells us, that 
 Artaxerxes made Aspasia one of the priestesses of 
 
ARTAXERXES. 
 
 6S9 
 
 have never known or tried the enjoyments of 
 virtue. The lustre of such an imperial crown, 
 and Darius's fear of his brother, furnished Tiri- 
 bazus with other arguments ; but the goddess of 
 beauty contributed her share towards persuading 
 him, by putting him in mind of the loss of As- 
 pasia« 
 
 He gave himself up, therefore, entirely to 
 Tiribazus, and many others soon entered into the 
 conspirac3^ But b^ore it could be carried into 
 exertion, a eunuch gave the king information 
 of it, and of all the measures that were f^ke n ; 
 for he had got perfect intelligence that they 
 designed to enter his chamber in the night, and 
 kill him in his bed. 
 
 Artaxerxes thought it would be great im- 
 pnidence either to slight the information, and lay 
 himself open to such danger, or to credit it 
 without farther proof. The method he took w'as 
 this : he ordered the eunuch to join Darius and 
 his ^herents, and assist at all their councils ; 
 and in the mean time broke a door through the 
 wall behind his bed, w'hich he concealed with the 
 tapestry, ^yhen the time came, which the eunuch 
 informed him of, he placed himself upon his bed, 
 and remained there till he had a sight of the 
 faces of the conspirators, and could perfectly 
 distinguish each of them. But when he saw 
 them draw their swords, and advance tovrards 
 him, he pulled back the tapestr>% retreated into 
 the inner room, and, after he had bolted the door, 
 alarmed the j>aiace. “Hie assassins seeing them- 
 ^Ives discovered, and their designs disappointed, 
 immediately took to flight, and desired Tiribazus 
 to do the same, because he must cer tainl y have 
 been observ'ed. While he lingered, the guards 
 came and laid hold of him ; but he killed many of 
 them, and it was with difficulty that he was 
 despatched at last by a javelin thrown at a 
 distance. 
 
 Darius was taken, together with his children, 
 Md brought to answer for his crime before the 
 judges which the king appointed. The king ffid 
 not think proper to assist at the trial in p>erson, 
 but directed others to lay the charge against his 
 son, and his notaries were to take down separately 
 the opinion of each judge. As they all ga%e it 
 unanimously for death, the officers took Darius, 
 and led him into an adjacent prison. But when 
 the executioner came, wdth the instrument in his 
 hand which is used in beheading the capital con- 
 victs, he was seized with horror at the sight of 
 Darius, and drew back towards the door, as 
 having neither ability nor courage to lay violent 
 hands upon his king. But the judges, who stood 
 at the door, urging him to do his office, wi n 
 menaces of instant punishment if he did not 
 comply, he returned, and seizing Darius by the 
 hair, threw him on the ground, and cut off his 
 head. Some say the cause w'as tried in presence 
 of the king, and that Darius, after he was con- ' 
 victed by indubitable proofs, fell on his face and | 
 begged for mercy, but Artaxerxes, rising in great | 
 anger, drew his scimitar, and pursued ^ stroke ; 
 
 till he laid him dead at his feeL They add, that 
 after this he r^umed to his palace, and having 
 paid his drv'otions to the sun, said to those who 
 assisted at the ceremony, ** My Persians, you 
 may now return in triumph, and tell your fellow- 
 subjects, that the great Oromazes* has taken 
 vengeance on those who formed the most impious 
 and execrable designs against their so^'ere^gn.” 
 Such was the end of the conspiracy. 
 
 Ochus now entertained very agreeable hopes^ 
 and w^ encouraged besides by Atossa. But he 
 bad still some fear of his remaining legitimate 
 brother, Ariaspes, and of his natural brother Ar- 
 sames. Not that Ochus had so much to appre- 
 hend from Ariaspes, merely because he was older, 
 but the Persians w'ere desirous of having him 
 succeed to the throne on account of his mildness, 
 his sincerity, and his humane disposition. As for 
 Arsames, he had the character of a wise prince, 
 and W'as the particular favourite of Ixis ihiher. 
 
 1 This was no secret to Ochus. However, he 
 ' planned the destruction of both these brothers of 
 his ; and being of an artful, as well as sanguinary 
 turn, he employed his cruelty against Arsames, 
 and his art against Ariaspes. I'o the latter he 
 privately sent some of the king’s eunuchs and 
 friends with frequent accounts of se^'e^e and 
 menacing expressions of his father’s, as if he had 
 resolved to put him to a cruel and ignominious ' 
 death. As these persons came daily to tell him in 
 confidence, that some of these threats were upon 
 the point of being put in execution, and the others 
 j would not be long delayed, he was so terrified, 
 j and fell into such a mel^choly and desponding 
 I way, that he prepared a jx^isonous draught, and 
 drank it, to deliver himself from the burden of 
 
 I life. 
 
 j The king being informed of the manner of his 
 j d^th, sincerely lamented him, and had some sus- 
 ‘ picion of the cause, but could not examine into it 
 I thoroughly on account of his great age. 
 j However, Arsmnes now became dearer to him 1 
 i than ever, and it was easy to see that the Iring 
 . placed an entire confidence in him, and commu- 
 ' nicated to him his most secret thoughts. Ochus, 
 therefore would not defer his enterprise longer, 
 j but emploj'ed Harpates, the son of Tiribazus, to 
 ' kill Arsames. Artaxerxes, whom time had brought 
 to the very verge of life, when he had this ad- 
 ditional stroke in the fate of Arsames, could not 
 make much more struggle ; his sorrow and regret 
 soon brought him to the grave. He lived ninety- 
 four 5’ears, and reigned sixty- two. f He had the 
 character of a prince who governed with lenity ; 
 and loved his people. But p>erhaps the behaviour 
 of his successor might contribute not a little to 
 his reputation ; for Ochus was the most cruel and 
 sanguinary of jninces. 
 
 * The Persians worshipped Orotjiazcs as the 
 Author of Good, and Ari 7 naniui as the author of 
 Evil. 
 
 t Diodorus Siculus says, that he reigned only 
 forty-three years. 
 
690 PLUTARCirS LIVES. 
 
 ARATUS. 
 
 The philosoplier Chrysippus, my dear Polycrates, 
 seems to have thought the ancient proverb not 
 quite justifiable, and therefore he delivered it, not 
 as it really is, but what he thought it should 
 be — 
 
 Who but a happy son will praise his sire ? 
 
 Dionysidorus the Troezenian, however, corrects 
 him, and gives it right — 
 
 Who but unhappy sons will praise their sires ? 
 
 He says, the proverb was made to silence those 
 who, having no merit of their own, dress them- 
 selves up in the virtues of their ancestors, and are 
 lavish in their praises. And those “in whom the 
 virtues of their sires shine in congenial beauty," 
 to make use of Pindar’s expression ; who, like 
 you, form their conduct after the brightest pat- 
 terns in their families, may think it a great happi- 
 ness to remember the most excellent of their 
 ancestors, and often to hear or speak of theni : for 
 they assume not the honour of other men’s virtues 
 for want of merit in their own, but uniting their 
 great actions to those of their progenitors, they 
 praise them as the authors of their descent, and 
 the models of their lives. For which reason, when 
 I have written the Life of Aratus, your country- 
 man, and one of your ancestors, I shall send it to 
 you, who reflect no dishonour upon him either in 
 point of reputation or power. Not that I doubt 
 your having informed yourself of his actions from 
 the first with all possible qare and exactness ; but 
 I do it, that your sons. Polycrates and Pythocles, 
 may form themselves upon the great exemplars 
 in their own family, sometimes hearing and some- 
 times reading what it becomes them well to imi- 
 tate : for it is the self-admirer, not the admirer of 
 virtue, that thinks himself superior to others. 
 
 After the harmony of the pure Doric,* I mean 
 the aristocracy, was broken in Sicyon, and se- 
 ditions took place through the ambition of the 
 demagogues, the city continued a long time in a 
 distempered state. It only changed one tyrant 
 for another, till Cleon was slain, and the adminis- 
 tration committed to Timoclidas and Clinias, 
 persons of the greatest reputation and authority 
 amongst the citizens. The commonwealth seemed 
 to be in some degree re-established, when Timo- 
 clidas died. Abantidas, the son of Paseas, taking 
 that opportunity to set himself up tyrant, killed 
 Clinias, and either banished or put to death his 
 friends and relations. He sought also for his son 
 Aratus, who was only seven years old, with a 
 design to despatch him. But, in the confusion 
 that was in his house when his father was slain, 
 the boy escaped among those that fled, and 
 wandered about the city, in fear and destitute of 
 help, till he happened to enter, unobserved, the 
 house of a woman named Soso, who was sister to 
 Abantidas, and had been married to Prophantus, 
 the brother of Clinias. As she was a person of 
 generous sentiments, and persuaded besides that 
 it was by the direction of some deity that the 
 
 * There was a gravity, but, at the same time, 
 great perfection in the Dorian music. 
 
 child had taken refuge with her, she concealed 
 him in one of her apartments till night, and then 
 sent him privately to Argos. 
 
 Aratus, having thus escaped so imminent a 
 danger, immediately conceived^ a violent and 
 implacable hatred for tyrants, which increased as 
 he grew up. He was educated by the friends of 
 his family at Argos, in a liberal manner ; and as 
 he was vigorous and robust, he took to gymnastic 
 exercises, and succeeded so well as to gain the 
 prize in the five several sorts.* Indeed,^ in his 
 statues there is an athletic look ; and amidst the 
 strong sense and majesty expressed in his counte- 
 nance, we may discover something inconsistent 
 with the voracity and mattock of the wrestlers.! 
 Hence perhaps it was that he cultivated his powers 
 of eloquence less than became a statesman. He 
 might indeed be a better speaker than some sup- 
 pose ; and there are those who judge from his 
 Commentaries, that he certainly was so, though 
 they were hastily written, and attempted nothing 
 beyond common language. 
 
 Some time after the escape of Aratus, Dinias 
 and Aristotle the logician formed a design against 
 Abantidas, and they easily found an opportunity 
 to kill him, when he attended and sometimes 
 joined in their disputations in the public halls, 
 which they had insensibly drawn him into for 
 that Very purpose. Paseas, the father of Aban- 
 tidas, then seized the supreme power, but he was 
 assassinated by Nicocles, who took his place, and 
 was the next tyrant. We are told tha.t there was 
 a perfect likeness between this Nicocles and 
 Periander, the son of Cypselus ; as Orontes the 
 Persian resembled Alcmseon, the son of Amphi- 
 araus, and a Lacedaemonian youth the great 
 Hector. Myrtilas informs us, that the young 
 man was crowded to death by the multitudes who 
 came to see him, when that resemblance was 
 known. . 
 
 Nicocles reigned four months, during which 
 time he did a thousand injuries to the people, and 
 was near losing the city to the iEtolians, who 
 formed a schemq to surprise it. Aratus was by 
 this time approaching to manhood, and great 
 attention was paid him on account of his high 
 birth and his spirit, in which there was nothing 
 little or unenterprising, and yet it was tmder the 
 correction of a gravity and solidity of judgment 
 much beyond his years. The exiles, thereiore, 
 considered him as their principal resource ; and 
 Nicocles was not regardless of his motions, but 
 by his private agents observed the measures he 
 was taking. Not that he expected he would 
 embark in so bold and dangerous an enterprise as 
 he did, but he suspected his applications to the 
 princes who were the friends of his father. In- 
 deed, Aratus began in that channel ; but when 
 he found that Antigonus, notwithstanding his 
 
 * The five exercises of the Pentathlum 
 we have already observed) were running, leaping, 
 throwing the dart, boxing, and wrestling. 
 
 t They used to break up the ground with the 
 mattock, by way of exercise, to improve their 
 strength. 
 
ARATUS. 
 
 691 
 
 promises, piit him off from time to time, and that 
 his hopes from Egypt and Ptolemy were too 
 remote, he resolved to destroy the tyrant without 
 any foreign assistance. 
 
 The first persons to whom he communicated 
 his intentions were Aristomachus and Ecdelus. 
 Aristomachus was an exile from Sicyon. and 
 Ecdelus an Arcadian banished from Megalopolis. 
 The latter was a philosopher, who in speculation 
 never lost sight of practice, for he had studied at 
 Athens under Arcesilaus the academician.* As 
 these readily accepted his proposal, he applied to 
 the other exiles ; a few of whom joined him, 
 because they were ashamed to give up so pro- 
 mising a hope ; but the greatest part believed it 
 was only Aratus's inexperience t that made him 
 think of so bold an attempt, and endeavoured to 
 prevent his proceeding. 
 
 While he was considering how to seize some 
 post in the territories of Sicyon, from whence he 
 might prosecute hostilities against the tj^rant, a 
 man of Sicyon arrived at Argos, who had escaped 
 out of prison. He was brother to Xenocles, one 
 of the exiles : and behig introduced by him to 
 Aratus, he informed him, that the part of the 
 wail which he had got over, was almost level 
 with the ground on the inside, as it joined upon a 
 high rocky part of the city, and that on the out- 
 side it was not so high but that it might be scaled. 
 Upon this intelligence, Aratus sent two of his 
 servants, Sceuthas and Technon, along with 
 Xenocles, to reconnoitre the wall ; for he was 
 resolved, if he could do it secretly, to hazard all 
 upon one great effort, rather than lengthen out 
 the war, and publicly engage with a tyrant, 
 when he had no resources but those of a private 
 man. 
 
 Xenocles and his companions, after they had 
 taken the height of the wall, reported, at their 
 return, that it was neither impracticable nor 
 difficult, but that it was dangerous to attempt it 
 on account of some dogs kept by a gardener, 
 w^hich were little indeed, but at the same time 
 extremely fierce and furious. Aratus, hoAvever, 
 immediately set about the work. It was easy to 
 provide arms without suspicion; for almost every- 
 body went armed, by reason of the frequent 
 robberies and the incursions of one people into 
 the territories of another. And as to the scaling 
 ladders, Euphranor, who was one of the exiles, 
 and a carpenter by trade, made them publicly ; 
 his business screening him from suspicion. Each 
 of his friends in Argos, who had no great number 
 of men that he could command, furnished him 
 with ten ; he armed thirty of his own servants, 
 and hired some few soldiers of Xenophilus, who 
 was chief captain of a band of robbers. To the 
 latter it was given out that the design of their 
 march to Sicyon was to carry off the king’s stud ; 
 and several of them were sent before by different 
 ways to the tower of Polygnotus, with orders to 
 wait for him there. Caphesias was likewise sent 
 with four others in a travelling dress. These 
 were to go in the evening to the gardener’s, and 
 pretending to be travellers, get a lodging there ; 
 after which, they were to confine both him and 
 his dogs : for that part of the wall was not acces- 
 sible any other way. The ladders being made to 
 
 * Arcesilaus was the disciple of Grantor, and 
 had established the middle academy. 
 
 t He was not yet twenty years old. 
 
 take in pieces, were packed up in corn chests, 
 and sent before in waggons prepared for that 
 purpose. 
 
 In the mean time some of the tyrant’s spies 
 arrived at Argos, and it was reported that they were 
 skulking about to watch the motions of Aratus. 
 Next morning, therefore, Aratus appeared early 
 with his friends in the market-place, and talked 
 with them for some time. He then went to the 
 Gymnasium, and after he had anointed himself, 
 took with him some young men from the wrestling 
 ring who used to be of his parties of pleasure, and 
 returned home. In a little time his servants 
 were seen in the market-place, some carrying 
 chaplets of flowers, some buying flambeaux, and 
 some in discourse with the women who used 
 to sing and play at entertainments. These man- 
 oeuvres deceived the spies. They laughed and 
 said to each other, “ Certainly nothing can be 
 more dastardly than a tyrant, since Nicocles, who 
 is master of so strong a city, and armed with so 
 much power, lives in fear of a young man, who 
 wastes the pittance he has to subsist on in exile, 
 in drinking and revelling even in the day time.” 
 After these false reasonings they retired. 
 
 Aratus, immediately after he had made his 
 meal, set out for the tower of Polygnotus, and 
 when he had joined the so diers there, proceeded 
 to Nemea, where he disclosed his real intentions 
 to his whole company. Having exhorted them 
 to behave like brave men, and promised them 
 great rewards, he gave propitious Apollo for the 
 word, and then led them forward towards Sicyon, 
 governing his march according to the motion of 
 the moon, sometimes quickening, and sometimes 
 slackening his pace, so as to have the benefit of 
 her light by the way, and to come to the garden 
 by the wall just after she was set. There Ca- 
 phesias met him, and informed him that the dogs 
 were let out before he arrived, but that he had 
 secured the gardener. Most of the company 
 were greatly dispirited at this account, and 
 desired Aratus to quit his enterprise ; but he 
 encouraged them by promising to desist, if the 
 dogs should prove very troublesome. Then he 
 ordered those who carried the ladders to march 
 before, under the conduct of Ecdelus and Mna- 
 sitheus, and himself followed softly. The dogs 
 now began to run about and bark violently at 
 Ecdelus and his men ; nevertheless they ap- 
 proached the wall, and planted their ladders safe. 
 But as the foremost of them were mounting, the 
 officer who was to be relieved by the morning 
 guard passed by that way at the sound of bell, 
 with many torches and much noise. Upon this, 
 the men laid themselves close to their ladders, 
 and escaped the notice .of this watch without 
 much difficulty ; but when the other which was 
 to relieve it came up, they were in the utmost 
 danger. However, that too passed by without 
 observing them ; after which, Mnasitheus and 
 Ecdelus mounted the wall first, and having 
 secured the way both to the right and left, they 
 sent Technon to Aratus to desire him to advance 
 as fast as possible. 
 
 It was no great distance from the garden to the 
 wall, and to a tower in which was placed a great 
 hunting dog to alarm the guard. But whether 
 he was naturally drowsy, or had wearied himself 
 the day before, he did not perceive their entrance. 
 But the gardener’s dogs awaking him by barking 
 below, he began to growl ; and when Aratus’s 
 
692 
 
 FLUl^ARCI-I^S LIVES. 
 
 men passed by the tower, he barked out, so that 
 the whole place resounded with the noise. Then 
 the sentinel, who kept watch- opposite to the 
 tower, called aloud to the huntsman, and asked 
 him whom the dog barked at so angrily, or 
 whether anything new had happened. The 
 huntsman answered from the tower, that there 
 was nothing extraordinary, and that the dog was 
 only disturbed at the torches of the guards and 
 the noise of the bell. This encouraged Aratus’s 
 soldiers more than anything ; for they imagined 
 that the huntsman concealed the truth because 
 he had a secret understanding with their leader, 
 and that there were many others in the town who 
 would_ promote the design. But when the rest 
 of their companions came to scale the wall, the 
 danger increased. It appeared to be a long affair, 
 because the ladders shook and swung extremely 
 if they did not mount them softly and one by 
 one ; and the time pressed, for the cocks began 
 to crow. The country people, too, who kept the 
 market, were expected to arrive every moment. 
 Aratus, therefore, hastened up himself when only 
 forty of his company were upon the wall ; and 
 when a few more had joined him from below, he 
 put himself at the head of his men, and marched 
 immediately to the tyrant’s palace, where the 
 main guard was kept, and where the mercenaries 
 passed the night under arms. Coming suddenly 
 upon them, he took them prisoners without kill- 
 ing one man ; and then sent to his friends in the 
 town to invite them to come and join him. They 
 Iran to him from all quarters ; and day now ap- 
 pearing, the theatre was filled with a crowd of 
 people who stood in suspense ; for they had only 
 heard a rumour, and had no certainty of what 
 was doing, till a herald came and proclaimed it 
 in these words, “Aratus the son of Clinias calls 
 the citizens to liberty.” 
 
 Then, persuaded that the day they had long 
 expected was come, they rushed in multitudes 
 to the palace of the tyrant, and set fire to it. 
 The flame was so strong that it was seen as far 
 as^ Corinth, and the Corinthians wondering what 
 might be the cause, were upon the point of going 
 to their assistance. Nicocles escaped out of the 
 city by sorne subterranean conduits; and the 
 soldiers having helped the Sicyonians to extin- 
 guish the fire, plundered his palace. Nor did 
 Aratus hinder them from taking this booty ; but 
 the rest of the wealth which the several tyrants 
 had amassed, he bestowed upon the citizens. 
 
 There was not so much as one man killed or 
 wounded in this action, either of Aratus’s party 
 or of the enemy ; fortune so conducting the enter- 
 prise as not to sully it with the blood of one 
 citizen. ^ Aratus recalled eighty persons who had 
 been banished by Nicocles, and of those that had 
 been expelled by the former tyrants not less than 
 500. The latter had long been forced to wander 
 from place to place, some of them full fifty years ; 
 consequently most of them returned in a destitute 
 condition.^ They were now, indeed, restored to 
 their ancient possessions ; but their going into 
 houses and lands which had found new masters, 
 laid Aratus under great difficulties. Without, he 
 saw Antigonus envying the liberty which the city 
 had recovered, and laying schemes to enslave it 
 again, and within he found nothing but faction 
 and disorder.^ He therefore judged it best in this 
 critical situation to join it to the Achaean league. 
 As the people of Sicyon were Dorians, they had 
 
 no objection to being called a part of the Achaean 
 community, or to their form of government.* It 
 must be acknowledged, indeed, that the Achaeans 
 at that time were no very great or powerful 
 people. _ Their towns were generally small, their 
 lands neither extensive nor fertile ; and they had 
 no harbours on their coasts, the sea for the most 
 part entering the land in rocky and impracticable 
 creeks. Yet none gave a better proof than this 
 people, that the power of Greece is invincible, 
 while good order and harmony prevail amongst 
 her members, and she has an able general to lead 
 her armies.^ In fact, these very Achseans, though 
 but inconsiderable in comparison of the Greeks 
 in their flourishing times, or, to speak more pro- 
 perly, not equalling in their whole community 
 the strength of one respectable city in the period 
 we are upon, yet by good counsels and unanimity, 
 and by hearkening to any man of superior virtue, 
 instead of envying his merit, not only kept them- 
 selves free amidst so many powerful states and 
 tyrants,Tut saved great part of Greece, or rescued 
 it from chains. 
 
 As to his character, Aratus had something very 
 popular in his behaviour ; he had a native great- 
 ness of mind, and was more attentive to the 
 public interest than to his own. He was an 
 implacable enemy to tyrants ; but with respect 
 to others, he made the good of his country the 
 sole rule of his friendship or opposition. So that 
 he seems rather to have been a mild and mode- 
 rate enemy than a zealous friend ; his regards or 
 aversions to particular men varying as the occa- 
 sions of the commonwealth dictated. In short, 
 nations and great communities with one voice 
 
 * The Dutch republic much resembles it. 
 The Achseans, indeed, at first had two Pmtors 
 whose office it was both to preside in the diet, 
 and to command in the army; but it was soon 
 thought advisable to reduce them to one. There 
 is this difference, too, between the Dutch Stadt- 
 holder and the Achaean Praetor, that the latter 
 did not continue two years successively in his 
 employment. But in other respects there is a 
 striking similarity between the states of Holland 
 and those of the Achaean league ; and if the 
 Achaeans could have become a maritime power 
 like the Dutch, their power would probably have 
 been much more extensive and lasting than it 
 was. 
 
 All the cities subject to the Achaean league 
 were governed by the great council, or general 
 assembly of the whole nation, which was as- 
 sembled twice a year, in the spring and autumn. 
 To this assembly, or diet, each of the confederate 
 cities had a right to send a number of deputies, 
 who were elected in their respective cities by a 
 plurality of voices. In these meetings they 
 enacted laws, disposed of the vacant employ- 
 ments, declared^ war, made peace, concluded 
 alliances, and, in short, provided for all the 
 principal occasions of the commonwealth. 
 
 Beside the Prcetor, they had ten great officers 
 called Demiurgi, chosen by the general assembly 
 out of the most eminent and experienced persons 
 amongst the states. It was their office to assist 
 the praetor with their advice. He was to propose 
 nothing to the general assembly but what had 
 been previously approved by their body, and in 
 his absence the whole management of civil affairs 
 devolved upon them. 
 
ARATm. 
 
 693 
 
 rc-echocd the declaration of the assemblies and ' 
 theatres, that Aratus loved none but good men, | 
 With regard to open wars and pitch^ battles, i 
 he was indeed diffident and timorous ; but in 
 gaining a point by stratagem, in surprising cities 
 and tyr^ts, there could not be an abler man. 
 
 To this cause we must assign it, that, after he 
 had exerted great courage and succeeded in 
 enterprises th^ were looked upon as desperate, 
 through too much fear and caution he gave up 
 others that were more practicaljle, and not of 
 less importance. For, as amongst animals there 
 are some that can see very clearly in the night, 
 and yet are next to blind in the daytime, the 
 dryness of the eye, and the subtilty of its 
 humours, not suffering them to bear the light ; 
 SO thCTe is in man_ a kind of courage and under- 
 standing, which is easily disconcerted in open ; 
 dangers and encounters, and yet resumes a happy j 
 boldh^s in ^ secret enterprises. The reason of ! 
 this inequality in men of parts otherwise excel- j 
 lent is their wanting the advantages of philo- 1 
 sophy. Virtue is in them the product of nature, | 
 un^sisted by science, like the fruits of the forest, | 
 which come without the least cultivation.* Of ■ 
 this there are many examples to be found. 
 
 After Aratus had engaged himself and his city 
 in the Achaean league, he served in the cavalry, j 
 and the g^erals highly esteemed him for his 
 ready obedience ; for though he had contributed 
 so much to the common cause by his name and 
 by the forces of Sicyon, yet the Achaean com- 
 mander, whether of Dima, or Tritta, or some 
 more inconsiderable to .vn, found him always as 
 tractable as the meanest .soldier. 
 
 When the king of Egypt made him a present 
 of twenty-five talent.?, he received it inde^, but 
 laid^ out the whole upon his fellow-citizens ; re- 
 lieving the necessitous with part of it, and 
 ransoming such as were prisoners with the rest. 
 
 But the exiles whom_ Aratus had recalled 
 would npt ^ satisfied^ with anything less than 
 the restitution of their estates, and gave the 
 present possessors so much trouble that the city 
 was in danger of being ruined by sedition. In 
 this extremi^ he saw no resource except in the 
 generosity of Ptolemy, and therefore determined 
 to take a voyage to Egypt, and apply to him for i 
 as much money as woidd reconcile all parties. | 
 Accordingly he set sail for Methone above the ; 
 promontory of Malea, in hopes of taking the 
 shortest passage. But a contrary wind sprang j 
 up, and the seas ran so high that the pilot, unable | 
 to bear up against them, changed his course, and ' 
 with much difficulty got into Adria,t a town ! 
 which was in the enemy' s hands ; for Antigonus 1 
 had a zarrison there. To avoid this imminent 
 danger he landed, and,_ with only one friend I 
 named Timanthes, making his way as far as } 
 possible from the sea, sought for shelter in a 1 
 
 * .This character of Aratus is perfectly agree- 
 able to what Polybius has given us in his fourth ^ 
 book. Two CTeat masters will draw with equal 
 excellence, though their manner must be dif- . 
 ferent. I 
 
 t Palmerius conjectures that we should read 
 Andrza, which he supposes to be a town in the j 
 island of Ayidros. He confirms it with this j 
 lirgument, that Aratus is said to have passed j 
 from hence to Euboea, which is opposite to that j 
 island. I 
 
 place well covered with wood, in which he and 
 his companion spent a very disagreeable nigd^t. 
 Soon after he had left the ship, the governor of 
 the fort came and inquired for him ' but he was 
 deceived by Aratus's servants, who were in- 
 struct^ to say he had made off in another vessel 
 to Euboea. However, he detained the ship and 
 .servants as lawful prize. Aratus spent some days 
 in thi.s distressful situation, where one while he 
 looked out to reconnoitre the coast, and another 
 while he kept himself concealed ; but at last by 
 good fortune a Roman ship happened to put in 
 near the place of his retreat. The ship was 
 bound for Sjoha, and Aratus prevailed upon the 
 master to land him in Caria. But he had equal 
 dangers to combat at sea in this as in his former 
 passages. And when he was in Caria, he had 
 a voyage to take to Egypt, which he found a 
 very long one. Upon his arrival, however, he 
 was immediately admitted to audience by the 
 king, who had long been inclined to serve him 
 on account of the paintings which he used to 
 compliment him with from Greece : for Aratus, 
 who h^ a ta-ste for these things, was always 
 collecting for him the pieces of the best masters, 
 parti<mlarly those of Pamphii^ss and Melanthus : * 
 for Sicyon was famed for the cultivation of the 
 arts, particularly the art of painting ; and it was 
 believed that there only the ancient elegance was 
 preserved without the least corruption. Hence 
 It was, that the great Apelles, at a time when he 
 was much admired, went to Sicyon, and gave the 
 painters a talent, not so much for any improve- 
 ment he expected, as for the reputation of having 
 been of their school. In consequence of which, 
 Aratus, when he restored Sicyon to liberty, and 
 destroyed the portraits of the tyrants, hesitated 
 a long time on coming to that of Aristratus ; for 
 it was the united work of the disciples of Melan- 
 thus, who had represented him standing in a 
 chariot of victory, and the pencil of ApellM had 
 contributed to the i>erformance, as we are in- 
 formed by Polemo the geographer. 
 
 The piece was so admirable that Aratus could 
 not avoid feeling the art that was displayed in it ; 
 but_ his hatred of tyrants soon overr^ed that 
 feeling, and he order^ it to be defaced. Nealces 
 the painter, t who was honoured with his friend- 
 ship, is said to have implored him with tears to 
 'pare that piece : and when he found him in- 
 flexible, said, “Aratus, continue vour war with 
 tyrants, but not with everything that belongs to 
 them. Spare at least the chariot and the victory, 
 and I shall soon make Aristratus vanish." Aratus 
 gave his consent, and Nealces defaced the figure 
 
 * Two of the most celebrated painters of all 
 antiquity. Pamphilus had been brought up 
 under Euporapus, and was the master of Apelle^ 
 and Melanthus. The capital pieces of Pamphilus 
 v/ere, a Brotherhood^ a Battle^ the Victory 0/ 
 the Athenians^ and Ulyxses in his vesxel toiMn^ 
 leave of Calypso. Pliny tells us, that the whole 
 wealth of a city could scarce purchase one of the 
 pieces of Melanthus. 
 
 t Nealces was a painter of great reputation. 
 One of his pieces was the naval fight between the 
 Egyptians and the Persians. As the action was 
 upon the Nile, whose colour is like that of the 
 sea, he distinguished it by a symboL He drew 
 an ass drinking on the shore, and a crocodile in 
 the act to spring upon him. Plin. L xxxv. c. ii. 
 
694 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 of Aristratus, but did not venture to put anything 
 ill its place except a palm-tree. We are told, 
 ho wever, that there was still a dim appearance of 
 the feet of Aristratus at the bottom of the chariot. 
 
 This taste for painting had already recom- 
 mended Aratus to Ptolemy, and his conversation 
 gained so much farther upon him that he made 
 him a present of 150 talents for the city ; forty 
 of which he sent with him on his return to 
 Peloponnesus, and he remitted the rest in the 
 several portions and at the times that he had 
 fixed. It was a glorious thing to apply so much 
 money to the use of his fellow-citizens, at a time 
 \vhen it was common to see generals and dema- 
 gogues for much smaller sums which thej'^ re- 
 ceived of the kings, to oppress, enslave, and 
 betray to them the cities where they were born. 
 But it was still more glorious, by this money to 
 reconcile the poor to the rich, to secure the com- 
 monwealth, and establish harmony amongst all 
 ranks of people. 
 
 His moderation in the exercise of the great 
 pov/er he was vested with was truly admirable. 
 For, being appointed sole arbitrator of the claims 
 of the exiles, he refused to act alone, and joined 
 fifteen of the citizens in the commission ; with 
 whose assistance, after much labour and attention, 
 he established peace and friendship amongst the 
 people. Beside the honours which the whole 
 community conferred on him for these services, 
 the exiles in particular erected his statue in brass, 
 and put upon it this inscription : 
 
 Far as the pillars which Alcides rear’d. 
 
 Thy counsels and thy deeds in arms for Greece 
 The tongue of Fame has told. But we, Aratus, 
 We wanderers whom thou hast restor’d to Sic^^on, 
 Will sing thy justice ; place thy pleasing form. 
 
 As a benignant power with gods that save. 
 
 For thou hast given that dear equality. 
 
 And all the laws which favouring heaven might 
 give. 
 
 Aratus, after such important services, was 
 placed above envy amongst his people. But king 
 Antigonus, uneasy at the progress he made, was 
 determined either to gain him, or to make him 
 obnoxious to Ptolemy. He therefore gave him 
 extraordinary marks of his regard, though he 
 wanted no such advances. Amongst others this 
 was one. On occasion of a sacrifice which he 
 offered at Corinth, he sent portions of it to Aratus 
 at Sic3^on : and at the feast which ensued, he said 
 in full assembly, “I at first looked upon this 
 young Sicyonian only as a man of a liberal and 
 patriotic spirit, but now I find that he is also a good 
 judge of the characters and affairs of princes. 
 At first he overlooked us for the sake of foreign 
 hopes, and the admiration he had conceived from 
 stories of the wealth, the elephants, fleets, and the 
 splendid court of Eg3'pt ; but since he has been 
 upon the spot, and seen that all this pomp is 
 merely a theatrical thing, he is come over entirely 
 to us. I have received him to my bosom, and am 
 determined to employ him in all my affairs. I 
 desire, therefore, you will all consider him as a 
 friend.” The envious and malevolent took occa- 
 sion from this speech to lay heavy charges against 
 Aratus in their letters to Ptolemy, insomuch that 
 the king sent one of his agents to tax him with 
 his infidelity. Thus, like passionate lovers, the 
 candidates for the first favours of kings dispute 
 them with the utmost envy and m.aligniL3\ 
 
 After Aratus was first chosen general of the 
 Achaean league, he ravaged Locris, which lies on 
 the other side of the gulf of Corinth ; and com- 
 mitted the same spoil in the territories of Calj’-don. 
 It was his intention to assist the Boeotians with 
 10,000 men, but he came too late ; they were 
 already defeated by the iEtolians in an action near 
 Chaeronea,* in which Aboeocritus their general, 
 and 1000 of their men, were slain. 
 
 The year following, f Aratus, being elected 
 general again, undertook that celebrated enter- 
 prise of recovering the citadel of Corinth ; in 
 which he consulted not only the benefit of Sicyon 
 and Achaia, but of Greece in general ; for such 
 would be the expulsion of the Macedonian gar- 
 rison, which was nothing better than a tyrant’s 
 yoke. As Chares, the Athenian general, upon a 
 battle which he won of the king of Persia’s lieu- 
 tenants, wrote to the people, that he had gained 
 a victory which was sister to that of Marathon ; 
 so we may justly call this exploit of Aratus 
 sister to that of Pelopidas the Theban, and 
 Thrasybulus the Athenian, when they killed the 
 tyrants. There is, indeed, this difference, that 
 Aratus’s enterprise was not against Greeks, but 
 against a foreign power, which is a difference 
 much to his honour. For the Isthmus of Corinth, 
 which separates the two seas, joins our continent 
 to that of Peloponnesus ; and when there is a 
 good garrison in the citadel of Corinth, which 
 stands on a high hill in the middle, at an equal 
 distance from the two continents, it cuts off the 
 communication with those within the Isthmus, so 
 that there can be no passage for troops, nor any 
 kind of commerce, either by sea or land. In 
 short, he that is possessed of it, is master of all 
 Greece. The j^ounger Philip of Macedon, there- 
 fore, was not jesting, but spoke a serious truth, 
 when he called the city of Corinth the fetteis of 
 Greece. Hence the place was always much con- 
 tended for, particularly by kings and princes. 
 
 Antigonus’s passion for it was not less than that 
 of love in its greatest madness ; and it was the 
 chief object of his cares to find a method of 
 taking it by surprise when the hopes of succeed- 
 ing by open force failed. When Alexander, who 
 was master of the citadel, died of poison, tliat is 
 said to have been given him through Antigonus’s 
 means, his wife Nicsea, into whose hands it then 
 fell, guarded it with much care. But Antigonus, 
 hoping to gain it b}'^ means of his son Demetrius, 
 sent him to make her an offer of his hand. It 
 w'as a flattering prospect to a woman somewhat 
 advanced in years, to have such a young prince 
 for her husband. Accordingly Antigonus caught 
 her by this bait. However, she did not give up 
 the citadel, but guarded it with the same attention 
 as before. Antigonus pretending to take no 
 notice, celebrated the marriage with sacrifices 
 and shows, and spent whole days in feasting the 
 people, as if his mind had been entirely taken up 
 with mirth and pleasure. One day, when Amoe- 
 
 * We must take care to distinguish this battle 
 of Chaeronea from that great action in which 
 Philip of Macedon beat the Thebans and Athen- 
 ians, and which happened sixty-six years before 
 Aratus was born. 
 
 f Polybius, who wrote from Aratus’s Com- 
 mentaries, tells us, there were eight years 
 between Aratus’s first prsetorship and his second, 
 in which he took Acrocorinth. 
 
ARATUS. 
 
 beus was to sing in the theatre, he conducted 
 Nicaea in person on her way to the entertainment 
 in a litter set out with royal ornaments. She was 
 elated with the honour, and had not the least 
 thought of what was to ensue. But when they came 
 to the point which bore towards the citadel, he 
 ordered the men that bore the litter to proceed to 
 the theatre ; and bidding farewell to Amoebeus 
 and the wedding, he walked up to the fort, much 
 faster than could have been expected from a 
 man of his years. Finding the gate barred, he 
 knocked with his staff, and commanded the 
 guard to open it. Surprised at the sight of him, 
 they complied, and thus he became ruaster of the 
 place, tie was not able to contain his joy on that 
 occasion : he drank and revelled in the open 
 streets and in the market-place, attended with 
 female musicians, and crowned with flowers. 
 When we see a man of his age, who had ex- 
 perienced such changes of fortune, carouse and 
 indulge his transports, embracing and saluting 
 every one he meets, we must acknowledge that 
 unexpected joy raises greater tmnults in an un- 
 balanced mind, and oversets sooner than either 
 fear or sorrow. 
 
 Antigonus having in this manner made himself 
 master of the citadel, garrisoned it with men in 
 whom he placed the greatest confidence, and 
 made the philosopher Persaeus governor. Whilst 
 Alexander was living, Aratus had cast his eye 
 upon it, as an excellent acquisition for his 
 country ; but the Achseans admitting Alexander 
 into the league, he did not prosecute his design. 
 Afterwards, however, a new occasion presented 
 itself. There were in Corinth four brothers, 
 natives of Syria, one of which, named Diodes, 
 served as a soldier in the garrison. The other 
 three having stolen some of the king’s money, 
 retired to Sicyon, where they applied to one 
 .dEgias a banker, whom Aratus used to employ. 
 Part of this gold they immediately disposed of to 
 him, and Erginus, one of the three, at several 
 visits, privately changed the rest. Thus an ac- 
 quaintance was formed between him and ifEgias, 
 who one day drew him into discourse about the 
 garrison. Erginus told him, that as he often 
 W’ent up to visit his brother, he had observed on 
 the steepest side a small winding path cut in the 
 rock, and leading to a part of the wall much 
 lower than the rest. Upon this ^Egias said, with 
 an air of raillery, “Why will you, my good 
 friend, purloin the king’s treasures for so incon- 
 siderable a sum, when you might raise yourselves 
 to opulence by one hour’s service ? Do not you 
 know that if you are taken, you will as certainly 
 be put to death for this trifling theft, as if you had 
 betrayed the citadel ? ” Erginus laughed at the 
 hint, and promised to sound his brother Diodes 
 upon the subject : for he could not, he said, place 
 much confidence in the other two. 
 
 A few days after this he returned, and had an 
 interview with Aratus, at which it was agreed 
 that he should conduct him to a part of the wall 
 that was not above fifteen feet high, and that 
 both he and his brother Diodes should assist him 
 in the rest of the enterprise. Aratus, on his part, 
 promised to give them sixty talents, if he suc- 
 ceeded ; and in case they failed, and yet returned 
 all safe to Sicyon, he engaged that each of them 
 should have a house and one talent. As it was 
 necessary that the sixty talents should be de- 
 p >luu in the hands of Aagias, for the satisfaction 
 
 695 
 
 of Erginus, and Aratus neither had such a sum, 
 nor chose to borrow it, because that might create 
 some suspicion of his intentions, he took most of 
 his plate and his wife’s jewels, and pledged them 
 with iEgias for the money. Such was the great- 
 ness of his soul, such his passion for high achieve- 
 ments, that knowing that Phocion and Epami- 
 nondas were accounted the justest and most 
 excellent of all the Greeks, for refusing great 
 presents, and not sacrificing virtue to money, he 
 ascended a step higher. He privately gave 
 money, he embarked his estate in an enterprise, 
 where he alone was to expose himself for the 
 many, who were not even apprised of his inten- 
 tions in their favour. Whor then can sufficiently 
 admire his magnanimity ? Who is there, even in 
 our days, that is not fired with an ambition to 
 imitate the man who purchased so much danger 
 at so great an expense, who pledged the most 
 valuable of his goods for the sake of being intro- 
 duced by night amongst enemies, where he was 
 to fight for his HD, without any other equivalent 
 than the hope of performing a great action ? 
 
 This undertaking, which was dangerou-. enough 
 in itself, became more so by a mistake which they 
 committed in the beginning. Technon, one of 
 Aratus’s servants, of whom we have already 
 spoken, was sent before to Diodes, that they 
 might reconnoitre the w'all together. He had 
 never seen Diodes, but he thought he should 
 easily know him by the marks which Erginus had 
 given, w'hich were curled hair, a swarthy com- 
 plexion, and want of beard. He went, therefore, 
 to the place .appointed, and sat down before the 
 city at a point called Ornis, to wait for Erginus 
 and his brother Diodes. In the mean time Diony- 
 sius their eldest brother, who knew nothing 01 the 
 affair, happened to come up. He greatly re- 
 sembled Diodes ; and Technon, struck with his 
 appearance, which answered the description, 
 asked him if he had any connection with Erginus. 
 He said he was his brother : upon which, Tech- 
 non, thoroughly persuaded that he w’as speaking 
 to Diodes, without asking his name, or waiting 
 for any token, gave him his hand, mentioned to 
 him the circumstances of the appointment with 
 Erginus, and asked him many questions about it. 
 Dionysius availed himself very artfully of the 
 mistake, agreed to every point, and returning 
 towards the city, held him in discourse without 
 giving him the least cause of suspicion. They 
 were now near the town, and he was on the point 
 of seizing Technon, when by good fortune Erginus 
 met them, and perceiving how much his friend 
 was imposed upon, and the great danger he was 
 in, beckoned to him to make his escape. Accord- 
 ingly they both fled, and got safe to Aratus. 
 However, Aratus did not give up his hopes, but 
 immediately sent Erginus to Dion^'sius, to offer 
 him money, and entreat him to be silent ; in which 
 he succeeded so well, that he brought Dionysius 
 along with him to Aratus. When they had him 
 in their hands, they did not think it safe to part 
 with him ; they bound and set a guard on him in 
 a small apartment, and then prepared for their 
 principal design 
 
 When everything was ready, Aratus ordered 
 his troops to pass the night under arms ; and 
 taking with him 400 picked men, few of whom 
 knew the business they were going about, he led 
 them to the gates of the city near tlie temple of 
 Juno. It was then about the middle of summer, 
 
696 PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 the moon at the full, and the night without the 
 least cloud. As their arms glittered with the 
 reflection of the moon, they were afraid that 
 circumstance would discover them to the watch. 
 The foremost of them were now near the walls, 
 when clouds arose from the sea, and covered the 
 city and its environs. The men sat down and 
 took off their shoes, that they might make the less 
 noise, and mount the ladders without danger of 
 slipping. But Erginus took with him seven 
 young men in the habit of travellers, and getting 
 unobserved to the gate, killed the keeper and the 
 guard that were with him. At the same time the 
 ladders were applied to the walls, and Aratus, 
 with 100 men, got over with the utmost expedition. 
 The rest he commanded to follow in the best 
 manner they could, and having immediately drawn 
 up his ladders, he marched at the head of his 
 party through the town towards the citadel, 
 confident of success, because he was not dis- 
 covered. 
 
 As they advanced they met four of the watch 
 with a light, which gave Aratus a full and timely 
 view of them, while he and his company could 
 not be seen by them, because the moon was still 
 over-clouded. He therefore retired under some 
 ruined walls, and lay in ambush for them. Three 
 out of the four were killed ; but the other, after 
 he had received a cut upon his head, ran off, 
 crying that the enemy was in the city. A little 
 after, the trumpets sounded, and the whole town 
 was in motion on the alarm. The streets were 
 filled with people running up and down, and so 
 many lights were brought out, both in the lower 
 town and the citadel, that the whole was illumi- 
 nated, and a confused noise was heard from every 
 quarter. Aratus went on, notwithstanding, and 
 attempted the way up the rock. He proceeded 
 in a slow and difficult manner at first, because he 
 had lost the path, which lay deep beneath the 
 craggy parts of the rock,, and led to the wall by 
 a great variety of windings and turnings.^ But 
 at that moment the moon, as it were by miracle, 
 is said to have dispersed the clouds, and thrown 
 a light on the most obscure part of the path, 
 which continued till he reached the wall at the 
 place he wanted. Then the clouds gathered 
 afresh, and she hid her face again. 
 
 In the mean time the 300 men whom Aratus 
 had left by the temple of Juno had entered the 
 city, which they found all in an alarm, and full 
 of lights. As they could not find the way Aratus 
 had taken, nor trace him in the least, they 
 screened themselves under the shady side of a 
 high rock, and waited there in great perplexity 
 and distress. By this time Aratus was engaged 
 with the enemy on the ramparts of the citadel, 
 and they could distinguish the cries of com- 
 batants ; but as the noise was echoed by the 
 neighbouring mountains, it w'as uncertain from 
 whence it first came. Whilst they were in doubt 
 what way to turn, Archelaus, who commanded 
 the king’s forces, took a considerable corps, and 
 began to ascend the hill with loud shouts, and 
 trumpets sounding, in order to attack Aratus’s 
 rear. He passed the party of the 300 without 
 perceiving them ; but he was no sooner gone by 
 than they rose as from an ambuscade, fell upon 
 him, and killing the first they attacked, so terri- 
 fied the rest, and even Archelaus himself, that 
 they turned their backs, and were pursued till 
 they entirely dispersed. | 
 
 When the party was thus victorious, Erginus 
 came to them from their friends above, to inform 
 them that Aratus was engaged with the enemy, 
 who defended themselves with great vigour, that 
 the wall itself was disputed, and that their 
 general wanted immediate assistance. They 
 bade him lead them to the place that moment ; 
 and as they ascended, they discovered themselves 
 by their shouts. Thus their friends were en- 
 couraged,^ and the reflection of the full moon 
 upon their arms made their numbers appear 
 greater to their enemies, on account of the length 
 of the path. In the echoes of the night, too, the 
 shouts seemed to come from a much larger party. 
 At last they joined Aratus, and with a united 
 effort beat off the enemy, and took post upon the 
 wall. At break of day the citadel was their own, 
 and the first rays of the sun did honour to their 
 victory. At the same time the rest of Aratus’s 
 forces arrived from Sicyon : the Corinthians 
 readily opened their gates to them, and assisted 
 in taking the king’s soldiers prisoners. 
 
 When he thought his victory complete, he 
 went down from the citadel to the theatre ; an 
 innumerable multitude crowding to see him, and 
 to hear the speech that he would make to the 
 Corinthians. After he had disposed the Achseans 
 on each side of the avenues to the theatre, he 
 came from behind the scenes, and made his ap- 
 pearance in his armour. But he was so much 
 changed by labour and watching, that the joy 
 and elevation which his success might have in- 
 spired, were weighed down by the extreme fatigue 
 of his spirits. On his appearance, the people im- 
 niediately began to express their high sense of 
 his services ; upon which he took his spear in his 
 right hand, and leaning his body and one knee a 
 little qgainst it, remained a long time in that 
 posture silent, to receive their plaudits and accla- 
 mations, their praises of his virtue, and compli- 
 ments on his good fortune. 
 
 After their first transports were over, and he 
 perceived that he could be heard, he summoned 
 the strength he had left, and made a speech in 
 the name of the Achseans suitable to the great 
 event, persuaded the Corinthians to join the 
 league, and delivered to them the keys of their 
 city, which they had not been masters of since 
 the times of Philip. As to the generals of Anti- 
 gonus, he set Archelaus, who was his prisoner, 
 free ; but he put Theophrastus to death, because 
 he refused to leave Corinth. _ Persseus, on the 
 taking of the citadel, made his escape to Cen- 
 chrese. Some time after, when he was amusing 
 himself with disputations in philosophy, and 
 some person advanced this position, “ None but 
 the wise man is fit to be a general:” “It is 
 true,” said he, “and the gods know it, that this 
 maxim of Zeno’s once pleased me more than all 
 the rest ; but I have changed my opinion, since I 
 was better taught by the young Sicyonian.” This 
 circumstance concerning Persseus we have from 
 many historians. 
 
 Aratus immediately seized the Hereeum, or 
 temple of Juno, and the harbour of Lechseum, in 
 which he took 25 of the king’s ships. He took 
 also 500 horses, and 400 Syrians, whom he sold. 
 The Achseans put a garrison of 400 men in the 
 citadel of Corinth, which was strengthened with 
 50 dogs, and as many men to keep them. 
 
 The Romans were great admirers of Philopoe- 
 men, and called him the last of the Greeks ; not 
 
ARATUS. 
 
 697 
 
 allowing that there was any great man amongst 
 that people after him. But, in my opinion, this 
 exploit of Aratus is the last which the Greeks 
 have to boast of. Indeed, whether we consider 
 the boldness of the enterprise, or the good fortune 
 which attended it, it equals the greatest upon 
 record. The same appears from its immediate 
 consequences : the Megarensians revolted from 
 Antigonus, and joined Aratus; the Troezenians 
 and Epidauriaiis too ranged themselves on the 
 side of the Achaeans. , , , , r 
 
 In his first expedition beyond the bounds of 
 Peloponnesus, Aratus overran Attica, and passing 
 into Salamis, ravaged that island ; so that the 
 Achaean forces thought themselves escaped, as it 
 were, out of prison, and followed him wherever 
 he pleased. On this occasion he set the Athenian 
 prisoners free without ransom, by which he sowed 
 amongst them the first seeds of defection from 
 the Macedonians. He brought Ptolemy likewise 
 into the Achaean league, by procuring him the 
 direction of the war both by sea and land. Such 
 was his influence over the Achaeans, that, as the 
 laws did hot allow him to be general two years 
 together, they appointed him every other year ; 
 and in action, as well as counsel, he had always 
 in effect the chief command : for they saw it was 
 not wealth, or glory, or the friendship of kings, 
 or the advantage of his own country, or anything 
 else that he preferred to the promotion of the 
 Achaean power. Pie thought that cities in their 
 single capacity were weak, and that they could 
 not provide for their defence without uniting and 
 binding themselves together for the common 
 good. As the members of the body cannot be 
 nourished, or live, but by their connection with 
 each other, and when separated pine and decay ; 
 so cities perish when they break off from the 
 community to which they belonged ; and, on the 
 contrary, gather strength and power by becoming 
 parts of some great body, and enjoying the fruits 
 of the wisdom of the whole.* 
 
 Observing, therefore, that all the bravest people 
 in his neighbourhood lived according to their own 
 laws, it gave him pain to see the Argives in slavery, 
 and he took measures for destroying their tyrant 
 Aristomachus.f Besides, he was ambitious of 
 restoring Argos to its liberty, as a reward for the 
 education it had afforded him, and to unite it to 
 the Achaean league. Without much difficulty he 
 found them hardy enough to undertake the com- 
 mission, at the head of whom was iEschylus and 
 
 • We shall here give the reader an account of 
 some laws, by which the Achaean states were 
 governed, i. An extraordinary assembly was 
 not to be summoned at the request of foreign am- 
 bassadors, unless they first notified, in writing, to 
 the Prcetor and Demiurgiy the subject of their 
 embassy. 2. No city, subject to the league, was 
 to send any embassy to a foreign prince or state, 
 without the consent and approbation of the 
 general diet. 3. No member of the assembly 
 was to accept of presents from foreign princes, 
 under any pretence whatsoever. 4. No prince, 
 state, or city was to be admitted into the league, 
 without the consent of the whole_ alliance. 5. 
 The general assembly was not to sit above three 
 days. 
 
 1 This Aristomachus must not be confounded 
 with him who was thrown into the sea at Cen- 
 chreae. Between them reigned Aristippus. 
 
 Charimenes the diviner ; but they had no swords, 
 for they were forbidden to keep arms, and the 
 tyrant had laid great penalties on such as should 
 be found to have any in their possession. To 
 supply this defect, Aratus provided several daggers 
 for them at Corinth, and having sewed them up 
 in the packsaddles of horses that were to carry 
 some ordinary wares, they were by that stratagem 
 conveyed to Argos.* In the mean time Chari- 
 menes, taking in another of his friends as a 
 partner, iEschylus and his associates were so 
 much provoked that they cast him off, and deter- 
 mined to do the business by themselves. But 
 Charimenes, perceiving their intention, in resent- 
 ment of the slight, informed the tyrant of their 
 purpose, when they were to set out to put it in 
 execution. Upon which they fled with precipita- 
 tion, and most of them escaped to Corinth. 
 
 It was not long, however, before Aristomachus 
 was despatched by one of his own servants ; but 
 before any measures could be taken to guard 
 against tyranny, Aristippus took the reins, and 
 proved a worse tyrant than the former. Aratus, 
 indeed, marched immediately to Argos with all 
 the Achaeans that were able to bear arms, in 
 order to support the citizens, whom he doubted 
 not to find ready to assert their liberty. But they 
 had been long accustomed to the yoke, and were 
 willing to be slaves ; insomuch that not one of 
 them joined him, and he returned with the incon- 
 venience of bringing a charge upon the Achaeans, 
 that they had committed acts of hostility in time 
 of full peace ; for they were summoned to answer 
 for this injustice before the Mantineans. 
 
 Aratus did not appear at the trial, and Aris- 
 tippus being the prosecutor, got a fine of thirty 
 minae laid upon the Achaeans. As that tyrant 
 both hated and feared Aratus, he meditated his 
 death, and Antigonus entered into the scheme. 
 They had their emissaries in almost every quarter, 
 watching their opportunity. But the surest guard 
 for a prince, or other chief, is the sincere affection 
 of his people : for when the commons and the 
 nobility, instead of fearing their chief magistrate, 
 fear for him, he sees with many eyes, and hears 
 with many ears. And here I cannot but leave a 
 little the thread of my story, to describe that 
 manner of life which Aristippus was under a 
 necessity of leading, if he chose to keep in his 
 hands that despotism, that state of an arbitrary 
 sovereign, which is commonly so much envied 
 and admired as the highest pitch of happiness. 
 
 This tyrant, who had Antigonus for his ally, 
 who kept so large a body guard, and had not left 
 one of his enemies alive in the city, would not 
 suffer his guards to do duty in the palace, but 
 only in the vestibule and porticos about it. When 
 supper was over, he sent away all his servants, 
 barred the door of the hall himself, and with his 
 mistress crept through a trap-door into a small 
 chamber above. Upon that door he placed^ his 
 bed, and slept there as a person in his anxious 
 state of mind may be supposed to sleep. The 
 ladder by which he went up, his mistress’s mother 
 took away, and secured in another room till 
 morning, when she brought it again, and called 
 up this wonderful prince, who crept like a reptile 
 out of his hole. Whereas Aratus, who acquired 
 
 * Polybius places this attempt for the relief of 
 Argos under the second Aristomachus. Vzd. 
 POLYB. lib. ii. 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES. 
 
 698 
 
 a lasting command, not by force of arms, but by 
 virtue, and in a way agreeable to the laws ; who 
 made his appearance without fear in a plain vest 
 and cloak, and always showed himself an enemy 
 to tyrants, left an illustrious posterity among the 
 Greeks, which flourishes at this day. But of 
 those who have seized castles, who have main- 
 tained guards, who have fenced themselves with 
 arms, and gates, and barncadoes, how few can 
 we reckon up that have not, like timorous hares, 
 died a violent death ; and not one of them has 
 left a family, or even a monument, to preserve his 
 memory with honour. 
 
 Aratus made many attempts, both private and 
 open, to pull down Aristippus, and rescue Argos 
 out of his hands, but he always miscarried. Once 
 he applied his scaling ladders, and ascended the 
 wall with a small party, in spite of the extreme 
 danger that threatened him. He even succeeded 
 so far as to kill the guards that came to oppose 
 him ; but when day appeared, and the tyrant 
 attacked him on all sides, the people of Argos, as 
 if he had not been fighting for their liberty, and 
 they were only presiding at the Nemean games, 
 sat very impartial spectators of the action, with- 
 out making the least motion to assist. Aratus 
 defended himself with great courage, and though 
 he had his thigh run through with a spear, mam- 
 tained his post all day against such superior 
 numbers. Would his strength have permitted 
 him to continue the combat in the night, too, he 
 must have carried his point ; for the tyrant now 
 thought of nothing but making his escape, and 
 had already sent most of his treasure on board 
 his ships. However, as no one gave Aratus 
 intelligence of this circumstance, as his water 
 failed, and his wound disqualified him frorn any 
 further efforts, he called off his men and retired. 
 
 He now despaired of succeeding by way of 
 surprise, and therefore openly entered the terri- 
 tories of Argos with his army, and committed 
 great devastations. He fought a pitched battle 
 with Aristippus, near the river Chares, and on 
 that occasion he was censured for deserting the 
 action, and letting the victory slip out of his 
 hands ; for one part of his army had clearly the 
 advantage, and was advancing fast in the pursuit, 
 when he, without being overpowered where he 
 acted in person, merely out of lear and diffidence, 
 retired in great disorder to his camp. His men, 
 on their return from the pursuit, expressed their 
 indignation at being prevented from erecting the 
 trophy, after they had put the enemy to flight, 
 and killed many more men than they had lost. 
 Aratus, wounded with these reproaches, deter- 
 mined to risk a second battle for the trophy. 
 Accordingly, after his men had rested one day, 
 he drew them out the next. But finding that the 
 enemy’s numbers were increased, and that their 
 troops were in much higher spirits than before, 
 he durst not venture upon an action, but retreated, 
 after having obtained a truce to carry off the 
 dead. However, by his engaging manners, and 
 his abilities in the administration, he obviated 
 the consequences of this error, and added the 
 city of Cleonse to the Achaean league. In Cleonae 
 he caused the Nemean games to be celebrated ; 
 fqr he thought that city had the best and most 
 a.ncient claim to them. The people of Argos 
 likewise exhibited them ; and on this occasion 
 the freedom and security which had been the 
 privilege of the champions were first violated. 
 
 The Achaeans considered as enemies all that had 
 repaired to the games at Argos, and ^ having 
 seized them as they passed through their terri- 
 tories, sold them for slaves. So violent and im- 
 placable was their general’s hatred of tyrants. 
 
 Not long after, Aratus had intelligence that 
 Aristippus had a design upon Cleonas, but that he 
 was afraid of him, because he then resided at 
 Corinth, which was very near Cleonse. In this 
 case he assembled his forces by proclamation, and 
 having ordered them to take provisions for several 
 days, marched to Cenchrese. By this manoeuvre 
 he hoped to bring Aristippus against Cleonse, as 
 supposing him at a distance ; and it had its effect. 
 The tyrant immediately set out from Argos with 
 his army. But it was no sooner dark, than Aratus 
 returned from Cenchrese to Corinth, and having 
 placed guards in all the roads, led on the Achseans, 
 who followed him in such good order, and with so 
 much celerity and pleasure, that they not only 
 made their march, but entered Cleonse that night, 
 and put themselves in order of battle ; nor did 
 Aristippus gain the least knowledge of this move- 
 ment, 
 
 Next morning, at break of day, the gates were 
 opened, the trumpet sounded, and Aratus ad- 
 vancing at full speed, arid with all the alarm of 
 war, fell upon the enemy, and soon routed them. 
 Then he went upon the pursuit, particularly that 
 way which he imagined Aristippus might take ; 
 for the country had several outlets. The pursuit 
 was continued as far as Mycense, and the tyrant, 
 as Dinias tells us, was overtaken and killed by a 
 Cretan named Tragiscus ; and of his army there 
 were above 1500 slain. Aratus, though he had 
 gained this important victory without the loss of 
 one man, could not make himself master of Argos, 
 nor deliver it from slavery : for Agias and young 
 Aristomachus entered it with the king of Mace- 
 don’s troops, and held it in subjection. 
 
 This action silenced in a great measure the 
 calumny of the enemy, and put a stop to the 
 insolent scoffs of those who, to flatter the tyrants, 
 had not scrupled to say, that whenever the 
 Achaean general prepared for battle, his bowels 
 lost their retentive faculty ; that when the trum- 
 pet sounded, his eyes grew dim, and his head 
 giddy ; and that when he had given the word, he 
 used to ask his lieutenants, and other officers, 
 what farther need there could be of him, since the 
 die was cast, and whether he might not retire, and 
 wait the event of the day at some distance. 
 These reports had prevailed so much that the 
 philosophers, in their inquiries in the schools, 
 whether the palpitation of the heart and change 
 of colour on the appearance of danger, were 
 arguments of cowardice, or only of some natural 
 defect, some ■ coldness in the constitution? used 
 always to quote Aratus as an excellent general, 
 who yet was always subject to these emotions on 
 occasion of a battle. 
 
 After he had destroyed Aristippus, he sought 
 means to depose Lysiades the Megalppolitan, vyho 
 had assumed the supreme power in his native city. 
 This man had something generous in his nature, 
 and was not insensible to true honour. He had 
 not, like most other tyrants, committed this 
 injustice out of a love of licentious pleasure, or 
 from a motive of avarice ; but incited when very 
 young, by a passion for glory, and unadvisedly 
 believing the false and vain accounts of the 
 wondrous happiness of arbitrary power, he had 
 
ARATUS. 699 
 
 made it his business to usurp it. However, he 
 soon felt it a heavy burden ; and being at once 
 desirous to gain the happiness which Aratus 
 enjoyed, and to deliver himself from the fear of 
 his intriguing spirit, he formed the noblest resolu- 
 tion that can be conceived, which was first to 
 deliver himself from the hatred, the fears, and the 
 guards that encompassed him, and then to bestow 
 the greatest blessings on his country. In conse- 
 quence hereof, he sent for Aratus, laid down the 
 authority he had assumed, and joined the city to 
 the Achaean league. The Achaeans, charmed 
 with his noble spirit, thought it not too great a 
 compliment to elect him general. He was no 
 sooner appointed than he discovered an ambition 
 to raise his name above that of Aratus, and was 
 by that means led to several unnecessary attempts, 
 particularly to declare war against the Lacedae- 
 monians. Aratus endeavoured to prevent it, but 
 his opposition was thought to proceed from envy. 
 Lysiades was chosen general a second time, 
 though Aratus exerted all his interest to get that 
 appointment for another : for, as we have already 
 observed, he had the command himself only every 
 other year. Lysiades was fortunate enough to 
 gain that commission a third time, enjoying it 
 alternately with Aratus. But at last avowing 
 himself his enemy, and often accusing him to the 
 Achaeans in full council, that people cast him off ; 
 for he appeared with only an assumed character 
 to contend against real and sincere virtue. iEsop 
 tells us, that the cuckoo one day asked the 
 little birds why they avoided her ; and they 
 answered, it was because they feared she would 
 at last prove a hawk. In like manner it happened 
 to Lysiades. It was suspected that, as he had 
 been once a tyrant, his laying down his power 
 was not quite a voluntary thing, and that he 
 would be glad to take the first opportunity to 
 resume it. 
 
 Aratus acquired new glory in the war with the 
 iEtolians. The Achaeans pressed him to engage 
 them on the confines of Megara ; and Agis, king 
 of the Lacedaemonians, who attended with an 
 army, joined his instances to theirs ; but he would 
 not consent. They reproached him with want 
 of spirit, with cowardice ; they tried what the 
 weapons of ridicule could do ; but he bore all 
 their attacks with patience, and would not sacrifice 
 the real good of the community to the fear of 
 seeming disgrace. Upon this principle he suffered 
 the i^itolians to pass Mount Gerania, and to enter 
 Peloponnesus without the least resistance. But 
 when he found that in their march they had seized 
 Pellene, he was no longer the same man. With- 
 out the least delay, without waiting till all his 
 forces were assembled, he advanced with those he 
 had at hand against the enemy, who were much 
 weakened by their late acquisition, for it had 
 occasioned the utmost disorder and misrule. 
 They had no sooner entered the city than the 
 private men dispersed themselves in the houses, 
 and began to scramble and fight for the booty, 
 while the generals and other officers seized the 
 wives and daughters of the inhabitants, and each 
 put his helmet on the head of his prize, as a mark 
 to whom she belonged, and to prevent her coming 
 into the hands of another. 
 
 While they were thus employed, news was 
 brought that Aratus was at hand, and ready to 
 fall upon them. The consternation was such as 
 might be expected amongst men in extreme 
 
 disorder. Before they were all apprised of their 
 danger, those that were about the gates and in 
 the suburbs had skirmished a few moments with 
 the Achseans, and were put to flight. And the 
 precipitation with which they fled greatly dis- 
 tressed those who had assembled to support them. 
 During this confusion, one of the captives, 
 daughter to Epigethes, a person of great eminence 
 in Pellene, who was remarkable for her beauty 
 and majestic mien, was seated in the temple of 
 Diana, where the officer whose prize she was had 
 placed her, after having put his helmet, which 
 was adorned with three plumes of feathers on her 
 head. This lady, hearing the noise and tumult, 
 ran out suddenly to see what was the cause. 
 As she stood at the door of the temple, and looked 
 down upon the combatants, with the helmet still 
 upon her head, she appeared to the citizens a 
 figure more than human, and the enemy took her 
 for a deity ; which struck the latter with such 
 terror and astonishment that they were no longer 
 able to use their arms. 
 
 The Pelleneans tefi us, that the statue of the 
 goddess stands commonly untouched, and that 
 when the priestess moves it out of the temple, in 
 order to carry it in procession, none dare look it 
 in the face, but, on the contrary, they turn away 
 their eyes with great care ; for it is not only a 
 terrible and dangerous sight to mankind, but 
 its look renders the trees barren, and blasts the 
 fruits where it passes. They add, that the 
 priestess carried it out on this occasion, and 
 always turning the face directly towards the 
 iEtolians, filled them with horror, and deprived 
 them of their senses. But Aratus, in his Com- 
 mentaries, makes no mention of any such circum- 
 stance ; he only says, that he put the .^tolians to 
 flight, and entering the town with the fugitives, 
 dislodged them by dint of sword, and killed 700. 
 This action was one of the most celebrated in 
 history : Timanthes the painter gave a very lively 
 and v,.vcellent representation of it. 
 
 However, as many powerful states were com- 
 bining against the Achaeans, Aratus hastened to 
 make peace with the iEtolians, which he not only 
 effected with the assistance of Pantaleon, one of 
 the most powerful men amongst them, but like- 
 wise entered into an alliance offensive and defen- 
 sive. He had a strong desire to restore Athens to 
 its liberty, and exposed himself to the severest 
 censures of the Achaeans, by attempting to sur- 
 prise the Piraeus, while there was a truce subsist- 
 ing between them and the Macedonians. Aratus, 
 indeed, in his Commentaries, denies the fact, and 
 lays the blame upon Erginus, with whom he took 
 the citadel of Corinth. He says, it was the pecu- 
 liar scheme of Erginus to attempt that port ; that, 
 his ladder breaking, he mi.scarried, and was pur- 
 sued ; and that to save himself, he often called 
 upon Aratus, as if present ; by which artifice he 
 deceived the enemy, and escaped. But this de- 
 fence of his wants probability to support it. It is 
 not likely that Erginus, a private man, a Syrian, 
 would have formed a design of such consequence, 
 without having Aratus at the head of it, to supply 
 him with troops, and to point out the opportunity 
 for the attack. Nay, Aratas proved the same 
 against himself, by making not only two or three, 
 but many more attempts upon the Piraeus. Like 
 a person violently in love, his miscarriages did not 
 prevail upon him to desist ; for, as his hopes were 
 disappointed only by the failure perhaps of a 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES, 
 
 700 
 
 single circumstance, and he was always within a 
 little of succeeding, he still encouraged himself to 
 go on. In one repulse, as he fled over the fields 
 of Thirasium, he broke his leg ; and the cure 
 could not be effected without several incisions ; so 
 that, for some time after, when he was called to 
 action, he was carried into the field in a litter. 
 
 After the death of Antigonus, and Demetrius’s 
 accession to the throne, Aratus was more intent 
 than ever on delivering Athens from the yoke, 
 and conceived an utter contempt for the Mace- 
 donians. He was, however, defeated in a battle 
 near Phylacia, by Bithys the new king’s general ; 
 and a strong report being spread on one side 
 that he was taken prisoner, and on another, that 
 he was dead, Diogenes, who commanded in the 
 Piraeus, wrote a letter to Corinth, insisting that 
 the Achaeans should evacuate the place, since 
 Aratus was no more. Aratus happened to be in 
 Corinth when the letter arrived, and the mes- 
 sengers finding that their business occasioned 
 much laughter and satirical discourse, retired in 
 great confusion. The king of Macedon himself, 
 too, sent a ship with orders that Aratus should be 
 brought to him in chains. 
 
 The Athenians exceeding themselves in flattery 
 to the Macedonians, wore chaplets of flowers upon 
 the first report of Aratus’s death. Incensed at 
 this treatment, he immediately marched out against 
 them j and proceeded as far as the Academy. But 
 they implored him to spare them, and he returned 
 without doing them the least injury. This made 
 the Athenians sensible of his virtue ; and, as upon 
 the death of Demetrius they were determined to 
 make an attempt for liberty, they called him in to 
 their assistance. Though he was not general of 
 the Achseans that year, and was so much indis- 
 posed besides, by long sickness, as to be forced to 
 keep his bed, yet he caused himself to be carried 
 in a litter, to render them his best services. 
 Accordingly he prevailed upon Diogenes, who 
 commanded the garrison, to give up the Piraeus, 
 Munychia, Salamis,'and Sunium, to the Athenians, 
 for the consideration of 150 talents, twenty of 
 which Aratus himself furnished. Upon this the 
 iEginetae and Hermionians joined the Achaeans, 
 and great part of Arcadia paid contributions to 
 the league. The Macedonians now found em- 
 ployment enough for their arms nearer home, and 
 the Achaeans numbering the ^tolians amongst 
 their allies, found a great addition to their power. 
 
 Aratus still proceeded upon his old principles, 
 and in his uneasiness to see tyranny established in 
 a city so near him as that of Argos, sent his agents 
 to Aristomachus, to represent how advantageous 
 a thing it would be for him to restore that city to 
 liberty, and join it to the Achaean league ; how 
 noble to follow the example of Lj'^siades, and com- 
 mand so great a people with reputation and 
 honour, as the general of their choice, rather 
 than one city as a tyrant, exposed to perpetual 
 danger and hatred. Aristomachus listened to 
 their suggestions, and desired Aratus to send him 
 fifty talents to pay off his troops. The money was 
 granted agreeably to his request ; but Lysiades, 
 whose commission as general was not expired, and 
 who was ambitious to have this negotiation pass 
 with the Achaeans for his work, took an opportu- 
 nity, while the money was providing, to accuse 
 ^atus to Aristomachus, as a person that had an 
 implacable aversion to tyrants, and to advise him 
 rather to put the business into his hands. Aristo- 
 
 machus believed these suggestions, and Lysiades 
 had the honour of introducing him to the league. 
 But on this occasion especially the Achaean council 
 showed their affection and fidelity to Aratus : for, 
 upon his speaking against Aristomachus, they re- 
 jected him with marks of resentment. Afterwards, 
 when Aratus was prevailed upon to manage the 
 affair, they readily accepted the proposal, and 
 passed a decree, by which the Argives and Phlia- 
 sians were admitted into the league. The year 
 following, too, Aristomachus was appointed 
 general. 
 
 Aristomachus finding himself esteemed by the 
 Achseans, was desirous of carrying his arms into 
 Laconia, for which purpose he sent for Aratus 
 from Athens. Aratus made answer, that he 
 utterly disapproved the expedition, not choosing 
 that the Achaeans should engage with Cleomenes,* 
 whose spirit and power kept growing in propor- 
 tion to the dangers he had to encounter. Aristo- 
 machus, however, was bent upon the enterprise, 
 and Aratus yielding to his solicitations, returned 
 to assist him in the war. Cleomenes offered him 
 battle at Palantium, but Aratus prevented him 
 from accepting the challenge. Hereupon Lysiades 
 accused Aratus to the Achaeans, and the year 
 following declared himself his competitor for the 
 command ; but Aratus had the majority of votes, 
 and was for the twelfth time declared general. 
 
 This year he was defeated by Cleomenes at 
 mount Lycaeum ; and, in his flight, being forced 
 to wander about in the night, he was supposed to 
 be killed. This was the second time that a report 
 of his death spread over Greece. He saved him- 
 self, how^ever ; and having collected the scattered 
 remains of his forces, was not satisfied with re- 
 tiring unmolested : on the contrary, he availed 
 himself in the best manner of his opportunity ; 
 and when none expected, or even thought of such 
 a manoeuvre, fell suddenly upon the Mantineans, 
 who were allies to Cleomenes, took their city, 
 secured it with a garrison, and declared all the 
 strangers he found there free of the city. In short, 
 he acquired that for the Achaeans, when beaten, 
 which they could not easily have gained when 
 victorious. 
 
 The Lacedaemonians again entering the terri- 
 tories of Megalopolis, he marched to relieve that 
 city. Cleomenes endeavoured to bring him to 
 an engagement, but he declined it, though the 
 Megalopolitans pressed him much to leave the 
 matter to the decision of the sword : for, besides 
 that he was never very fit for disputes in the open 
 field, he was now inferior in numbers ; and, at a 
 time of life when his spirits began to fail, and his 
 ambition was subdued, he would have had to 
 do with a young man of the most adventurous 
 courage. He thought, too, that, if Cleomenes, 
 by his boldness, sought to acquire glory, it be- 
 came him^ by his caution, to keep that which he 
 
 had. 1 1 . t -I 
 
 One day the light infantry skirmished with the 
 Spartans, and having driven them to their camp, 
 entered it with them, and began to plunder. 
 
 * Some authors write, that Cleomenes, at the 
 instigation of the .^tolians, had built a fortress in 
 the territoi'y of the Megalopolitans, called A tJuz- 
 neu7n ; which the Achaeans considered as an open 
 rupture, and therefore declared, in a general 
 assembly, that the Lacedaemonians should be 
 considered as enemies. 
 
ARATUS. 
 
 Aratus even then would not lead on the main 
 body, but kept his men on the other side of a 
 defile that lay between, and would not suffer 
 them to pass. Lysiades, incensed at this order, 
 and reproaching him with cowardice, called upon 
 the cpalry to support the party which was in 
 pursuit of the enemy, and not to betray the 
 victory, nor to desert a man who was going to 
 hazard all for his country. Many of the best 
 men in the army followed him to the charge, 
 which was so vigorous that he put the right wing 
 of the Lacedsemonians to flight'. But, in the 
 ardour of his courage, and his ambition for 
 honour, he went inconsiderately upon the pur- 
 sui^ till he fell into an intricate way, obstructed 
 with trees, and intersected with large ditches. 
 Cleomenes attacked him in this ground, and slew 
 hi^m, after he had maintained the most glorious 
 of all combats, the combat for his people, almost 
 at their own doors. The rest of the cavalry fled, 
 and turning back upon the main body, put the 
 infantry in disorder, so that the rout became 
 general. 
 
 This loss was principally ascribed to Aratus, 
 for he was thought to have abandoned Lysiades 
 to his fate. The Achaeans, therefore, retired in 
 ^eat anger, and obliged him to follow them to 
 ^gium. There it was decreed in full council, 
 that he should be supplied with no more mone)'", 
 nor have any mercenaries maintained ; and that 
 if he would go to war, he must find resources for 
 It himself. Thus ignominiously treated, he was 
 inclined to give up the seal, and resign his com- 
 mand immediately ; but, upon more mature con- 
 sideration, he thought it better to bear the affront 
 with patience. Soon after this he led the 
 Achaeans to Orchomenus, where he gave battle to 
 Megistonus, father-in-law to Cleomenes, killed 
 300 of his men, and took him prisoner. 
 
 It had been customary with him to take the 
 command every other year ; but when his turn 
 came, and he was called upon to resume it, he 
 absolutely refused, and Timoxenus was appointed 
 general. The reason commonly given for his 
 rejecting that commission was his resentment 
 against the people for the late dishonour they 
 had done him ; but the real cause was the bad 
 posture of the Achaean affairs. Cleomenes no 
 longer advanced by insensible steps : he had no 
 measures now to keep with the magistrates at 
 home, nor anything to fear from their opposition ; 
 for he had put the Ephori to death, distributed 
 the lands in equal portions, and admitted many 
 strangers citizens of Sparta. After he had made 
 himself absolute master by these means at home, 
 he marched into Achaia, and insisted upon being 
 appointed general of the league. Aratus, there- 
 fore, is highly blamed, when affairs were in such 
 a tempestuous state, for giving up the helm to 
 another pilot, when he ought rather to have taken 
 It by force to save the community from sinking : 
 or, if he thought the Achaean power beyond the 
 possibility of being retrieved, he should have 
 yielded to Cleomenes, and not have brought 
 Peloponnesus into a state of barbarism again 
 with Macedonian garrisons, nor filled the citadel 
 of Corinth with Illyrian and Gaulish arms. For 
 ^ niaking those men to whom he had 
 shown himself superior, both in his military and 
 political capacity, and whom he vilified so much 
 m his Commentaries, masters of his cities, under 
 the softer, but false name of allies. It may be 
 
 701 
 
 said, perhaps, that Cleomenes wanted justice, and 
 was tyrannically inclined ; let us grant it for a 
 moment ; yet he was a descendant of the Hera- 
 
 meanest 
 
 citizen of which should have been preferred as 
 general of the league to the first of the Mace- 
 onians, at le^t by those who set any value on 
 the dignity of Greece. Besides, Cleomenes asked 
 tor the command among the Ach^ans,* only to 
 make their cities happy in his services, in return 
 of the title : whereas Antigonus, 
 though declared commander in chief both by sea 
 and land, would not accept the commission till he 
 was paid with the citadel of Corinth ; in which 
 he perfectly resembled ^sop s hunter ; t for he 
 would not ride the Ach^ans, though they offered 
 their backs, and though by embassies and decrees 
 they courted him to do it, till he had first bridled 
 them by his prrison, and by the hostages which 
 they were obliged to deliver to him. 
 
 It IS true, Aratus labours to justify himself by 
 the necessity of affairs. But Polybius assures us, 
 that long before that necessity existed, he had 
 been afraid of the daring spirit of Cleomenes, and 
 had not only treated with Antigonus in private, 
 but drawn in the Megalopolitans to propose it to 
 the general assembly of the Achaeans, that Anti- 
 gonus should be invited to their assistance : for 
 whenever Cleomenes renewed his depredations! 
 the Megalopolitans were the first that suffered by 
 thein. Phylarchus gives the same account : but 
 we should not have afforded him much credit, if 
 ne Had not been supported by the testimony of 
 Polybius ; for such is his fondness for Cleomenes 
 that he cannot speak of him but in an enthusi- 
 astic manner ; and, as if he was pleading a cause 
 rather than writing a history, he perpetually dis- 
 parages the one, and vindicates the other. 
 
 Achaeans having lost Mantinea, v/hich 
 Cleomenes now took a second time, and bein? 
 moreover, defeated in a great battle at Heca-’ 
 tomboeum were struck with such terror that they 
 immediately invited Cleomenes to Argos, with a 
 promise of making him general. But Aratus no 
 soone^r perceived that he was on his march, and 
 had brought his army as far as Lerma, than his 
 fears prevailed, and he sent ambassadors to desire 
 him to come to the Achaeans as friends and allies 
 with 300 men only. They were to add, that if 
 he had any distrust of the Achaeans, they would 
 give him hostages. Cleomenes told them, they 
 did. but insult and mock him with such a message 
 and returning immediately, wrote a letter to the 
 Achaean council, full of complaints and invectives 
 against Aratus. Aratus wrote another against 
 Cleomenes in the same style ; and they proceeded 
 to such gross abuse as not to spare even the 
 characters of their wives and families. 
 
 Upon this Cleomenes sent a herald to declare 
 war against the Achaeans ; and in the mean time 
 
 Perhaps Aratus was apprehensive that Cleo- 
 menes would endeavour to make himself absolute 
 amonpt the Achaeans, as he was already in 
 Lacedaemon. _ There was a possibility, however, 
 of his behaving with honour as general of the 
 Achsans; whereas, from Antigonus nothing 
 could be expected but chams. 
 
 t Horace gives us this fable of .Esop’s: but. 
 before -®sop, the poet Stesichorus is said to 
 have applied it to the Himerians, when they 
 were going to raise a guard for Phalaris. 
 
PLUTARCWS LIVES. 
 
 the city of Sicyon was near being betrayed to 
 him. Disappointed of his expectation there, he 
 turned against Pellene, dislodged the Achaean 
 garrison, and secured the town for himself. A 
 little alter this, he took Pheneum andPenteleum ; 
 and it was not long before the people of Argos 
 adopted his interest, and the Phliasians received 
 his garrison : so that scarce anything remained 
 firm to the Achaeans of the dominions they had 
 acquired. Aratus saw nothing but confusion 
 about him ; all Peloponnesus was in a tottering 
 condition ; and the cities everywhere excited by 
 innovators to revolt. Indeed, none were quiet or 
 satisfied with their present circumstances. Even 
 amongst the Sicyonians and Corinthians many 
 were found to have a correspondence with Cleo- 
 menes, having been long disaffected to the ad- 
 ministration and the public utility, because they 
 wanted to get the power into their own hands. 
 Aratus was invested with full authority to punish 
 the delinquents. The corrupt members of Sicyon 
 he cut off ; but, by seeking for such in Corinth, 
 in order to put them to death, he exasperated the 
 people, already sick of the same distemper, and 
 weary of the Achaean government.* On this 
 occasion they assembled in the temple of Apollo, 
 and sent for Aratus, being determined either to 
 kill him, or take him prisoner, before they pro- 
 ceeded to an open revolt. He came leading his 
 horse, as if he had not the least mistrust or sus- 
 picion. When they saw him at the gate,^ a 
 number of them rose up, and loaded him with 
 reproaches. But he, with a composed countenance 
 and mild address, bade them sit down again, and 
 not, by standing in the way and making such a 
 disorderly noise, prevent other citizens who were 
 at the door from entering. At the same time 
 that he said this, he drew back step by step, as if 
 he was seeking sornebqdy to take his horse. 
 Thus he got out of the crowd, and continued to 
 talk, without the least appearance of confusion, 
 to such of the Corinthians as he met, and desired 
 them to go to the temple, till he insensibly 
 approached the citadel. He then mounted his 
 horse, and without stopping any longer at the 
 fort than to give his orders to Cleopater the 
 governor to keep a strict guard upon it, he rode 
 off to Sicyon, followed by no more than thirty 
 soldiers, for the rest had left him and dispersed. 
 
 The Corinthians, soon apprised of his flight, 
 went in pursuit of him ; but failing in their 
 design, they sent for Cleomenes, and put the city 
 into his hands. He did not, however, think this 
 advantage equal to his loss in their suffering 
 Aratus to escape. As soon as the inhabitants of 
 that district on the coast called Acte had sur- 
 rendered their towns, he shut up the citadel with 
 a wall of circumvallation, and a palisadoed 
 intrenchment. 
 
 In the mean time many of the Achaeans 
 repaired to Aratus at Sicyon, and a general as- 
 sembly was held, in which he was chosen com- 
 mander in chief, with an unlimited commission. 
 He now first took a guard, and it was composed 
 of his fellow-citizens. He had conducted the 
 Achaean administration three and thirty years ; 
 he had been the first man in Greece, both in 
 power and reputation ; but he now found himself 
 
 * What wonder, when they saw Aratus un- 
 faithful to his first principles, and going to bring 
 them again under the Macedonian yoke. 
 
 abandoned, indigent, persecuted, without any- 
 thing but one plank to trust to in the storm that 
 had shipwrecked his country. For the ^Etolians 
 had refused the assistance which he requested, 
 and the city of Athens, though well inclined to 
 serve him, was prevented by Euclides and 
 Micion. 
 
 Aratus had a house and valuable effects at 
 Corinth. Cleomenes would not touch anything 
 that belonged to him, but sent for his friends and 
 agents, and charged them to take the utmost care 
 of his affairs, ‘as remembering that they must 
 give an account to Aratus. To Aratus himself 
 he privately sent Tripylis, and afterwards his 
 father-in-law Megistonus, with great offers, and 
 among the rest a pension of twelve talents, which 
 was double the yearly allowance he had from 
 Ptolemy. For this, he desired to be appointed 
 general of the Achseans, and to be joined with 
 him in the care of the citadel of Corinth. Aratus 
 answered, that he did not i}ow govern affairs, 
 but they governed him. As there appeared an 
 insincerity in this answer, Cleomenes entered the 
 territories of Sicyon, and committed great devas- 
 tations. He likewise blocked up the city for 
 three months together ; all which time Aratus 
 was debating with himself whether he should 
 surrender the citadel to Antigonus ; for he would 
 not send him succours on any other condition. 
 
 Before he could take his resolution, the Achae- 
 ans met in council at iEgium, and called him to 
 attend it. As the town was invested by Cleo- 
 menes, it was dangerous to pass. The citizens 
 entreated him not to go, and declared they would 
 not suffer him to expose himself to an enemy who 
 was watching for his prey. The matrons and 
 their children, too, hung upon him, and wept for 
 him as for a common parent and protector. He 
 consoled them, however, as well as he could, and 
 rode down to the sea, taking with him ten of his 
 friends, and his son, who was now approaching 
 to manhood. Finding some vessels at anchor, he 
 went on board, and arrived safe at iEgium. 
 There he held an assembly, in which it was de- 
 creed that Antigonus should be called in, and the 
 citadel surrendered to him. Aratus sent his own 
 son amongst the other hostages ; which the 
 Corinthians so much resented, that they plun- 
 dered his goods, and made a present of his house 
 to Cleomenes. . . t. v* 
 
 As Antigonus was now approaching with his 
 army, which consisted of 20,000 foot, all Macedo- 
 nians, and of 1400 horse, Aratus went with the 
 Achaean magistrates by sea,* and without being 
 discovered by the enemy, met him at Pegae^ ; 
 though he placed no great confidence in Anti- 
 gonus, and distrusted the Macedonians. For he 
 knew that his greatness had been owing to the 
 mischiefs he had done them, and that he had first 
 risen to the direction of affairs in consequence of 
 his hatred to old Antigonus.^ But seeing an in- 
 dispensable necessity beiore him, such an occasion 
 as those who s’eemed to command are forced to 
 obey, he faced the danger. When Antigonus was 
 told that Aratus was come in person, he gave the 
 rest a common welcome, but received him in the 
 most honourable manner ; and finding him upon 
 trial to be a man of probity and prudence took 
 him into his most inti mate friendship : for Aratus 
 
 * The magistrates called Demiurgi. See an 
 account of them before. 
 
ARATUS. 
 
 703 
 
 was not only serviceable to the king in great 
 affairs, but in the hours of leisure his most agree- 
 able companion. Antigonus, therefore, though 
 young, perceiving in him such a temper, and such 
 other qualities as fitted him for a prince's friend- 
 ship, preferred him not only to the rest of the 
 Achseans, but even to the Macedonians that v/ere 
 about him, and continued to employ him in every 
 affair of consequence. Thus the thing which the 
 gods announced by the entrails of one of the 
 victims was accomplished : for it is said, that 
 when Aratus was sacrificing not long before, there 
 appeared in the liver two gall bladders enclosed 
 in the same caul ; upon which, the diviner de- 
 clared, that two enemies, who appeared the most 
 irreconcilable, would soon be united in the 
 strictest friendship. Aratus then took little notice 
 of the saying, for he never put much faith in 
 victims, nor indeed in predictions from anything 
 else, but used to depend upon his reason. Some 
 time after, however, when the war went on suc- 
 cessfully, Antigonus made an entertainment at 
 Corinth, at which, though there was a numerous 
 company, he placed Aratus next above him. 
 They had not sat long before Antigonus called for 
 a cloak. At the same time he asked Aratus 
 whether he did not think it very cold ; and 
 he answered, that it was extremely cold. The 
 king then desired him to sit nearer, and the 
 servants who brought the cloak, put it over the 
 shoulders of both. This putting Aratus in mind 
 of the victim, he informed the king both of the 
 sign and the prediction. But this happened long 
 after the time that we are upon. 
 
 When they were at Pegse, they took oaths of 
 mutual fidelity, and then marched against the 
 enemy. There were several actions under the 
 walls of Corinth, in which Cleomenes had fortified 
 himself strongly, and th-e Corinthians defended 
 the place with great vigour. 
 
 In the mean time, Aristotle, a citizen of Argos, 
 and friend of Aratus, sent an agent to him pri- 
 vately, with an offer of bringing that city to declare 
 for him, if he would go thither in person with 
 some troops. Aratus having acquainted Anti- 
 gonus with this scheme, embarked 1500 men, and 
 sailed immediately with them from the Isthmus 
 to Epidaurus. But the people of Argos, without 
 waiting for his arrival, had attacked the troops of 
 Cleomenes, and shut them up in the citadel. 
 Cleomenes having notice of this, and fearing that 
 the enemy, if they were in possession of Argos, 
 might cut off his retreat to Lacedaemon, left his 
 post before the citadel of Corinth the same night, 
 and marched to the succour of his men. He 
 reached it before Aratus, and gained some ad- 
 vantage over the enemy ; but Aratus arriving 
 soon after, and the king appearing with his army, 
 Cleomenes retired to Mantinea. 
 
 Upon this all the cities joined the Achaeans 
 again. Antigonus made himself master of 
 the citadel of Corinth ; and the Argives having 
 appointed Aratus their general, he persuaded 
 them to give Antigonus the estates of the late 
 tjTants and all the traitors. That people put 
 Aristomachus to the torture at Cencl^eae,* * and 
 
 * Plutarch seems here to have followed Phy- 
 larchus. Polybius tells us that Aristomachus 
 deserved greater punishments than he suffered, 
 not only for his extreme cruelty when tyrant of 
 
 afterwards drowned him in the sea. Aratus v/as 
 much, censured on this occasion, for permitting a 
 man to suffer unjustly, who was not of a bad cha- 
 racter, with whom he formerly had connections, 
 and who, at his persuasion, had abdicated the 
 supreme power, and brought Argos to unite itself 
 to the Achaean league. There were other charges 
 against Aratus, “namely, that, at his instigation, 
 the Achaeans had given the city of Corinth to 
 Antigonus, as if it had been no more than an 
 ordinary village ; that they had suffered him to 
 pillage Orchomenus, and place in it a Macedonian 
 garrison ; that they had made a decree that their 
 community should not send a letter or an embassy 
 to any other king, without the consent of Anti- 
 gonus ; that they were forced to maintain and pay 
 the Macedonians ; and that they had sacrifices, 
 libations, and games, in honour of Antigonus, — the 
 fellow-citizens of Aratus setting the example, and 
 receiving Antigonus into their city, on v/hich oc- 
 casion Aratus entertained him in his house. For 
 all these things they blamed Aratus, not consider- 
 ing that when he had once put the reins in the 
 hand of that prince, he was necessarily carried 
 along with the tide of regal power ; no longer 
 master of anything but his tongue, and it was 
 dangerous to use that with freedom. For he was 
 visibly concerned at many circumstances of the 
 king’s conduct, particularly with respect to the 
 statues. Antigonus erected anew those of the 
 tyrants which Aratus had pulled down, and de- 
 molished those he had set up in memory of the 
 brave men that surprised the citadel of Corinth. 
 That of Aratus only was spared, notwithstanding 
 his intercession for the rest. In the affair of 
 Mantinea,* too, the behaviour of the Achseans 
 was not suitable to the Grecian humanity : for 
 having conquered it by means of Antigonus, they 
 put the principal of the inhabitants to the sword ; 
 some of the rest they sold, or sent in fetters to 
 Macedonia ; and they made slaves of the women 
 and children. Of the money thus raised they 
 divided a third part amongst themselves and gave 
 the rest to the Macedonians. But this had its 
 excuse in the law of reprisals : for, however 
 shocking it may appear for men to sacrifice to 
 their anger those of their own nation and kindred, 
 yet in necessity, as Simonides says, it seems 
 rather a proper alleviation than a hardship, to 
 give relief to a mind inflamed and aching with 
 resentment. But as to what Aratus did sfter- 
 wards with respect to Mantinea, it is impossible 
 to justify him upon a plea either of propriety or 
 necessity. For Antigonus having made a present 
 of that city to the Argives, they resolved to re- 
 people it, and appointed Aratus to see it done ; 
 in virtue of which commission, as well as that of 
 
 Argos, but also for his abandoning the Achmans 
 in their distress, and declaring for their enemies. 
 
 * The Mantineans had applied to the Achaeans 
 for a garrison to defend them against the Lacedae- 
 monians. In compliance with their request, the 
 Achaeans sent them 300 of their own citizens, and 
 200 mercenaries. But the Mantineans soon after 
 changing their minds, in the most perfidious 
 manner massacred that garrison. They deserv’ed, 
 therefore, all that they are here said to have suf- 
 fered ; but Polybius makes no mention of the prin- 
 cipal inhabitants being put to death ; he only says, 
 their goods were plundered, and some of the 
 people sold for slaves. 
 
PLUTARCirs LIVES, 
 
 704 
 
 general, he decreed that it should no more be 
 called Mantinea, but Antigonea, which name it 
 still^ bears. Thus, by his means, Mantinea, the 
 amiable Mantinea^ as Homer calls it, was no 
 more ; and in the place of it we have a city which 
 took its name from the man who ruined its in- 
 habitants. 
 
 Some time after this, Cleomenes being over- 
 girown in a great battle near Sellasia,* * quitted 
 Sparta, and sailed to Egypt. As for Antigonus, 
 after the kindest and most honourable behaviour 
 to Aratus, he returned to Macedonia. In his 
 sickness there, which happened soon after his 
 arrival, he sent Philip, then very young, but 
 already declared his successor, into Peloponnesus ; 
 having first instructed him above all things to 
 give attention to Aratus, and through him to treat 
 with the cities, and make himself known to the 
 Achaeans. Aratus received him with great honour, 
 and managed him so well, that he returned to 
 Macedonia full of sentiments of respect for his 
 friend, and in the most favourable disposition for 
 the interests of Greece. 
 
 After the death of Antigonus, the iEtolians 
 despised the inactivity of the Acliseans : for, ac- 
 customed to the protection of foreign arms, and 
 sheltering themselves under the Macedonian 
 power, they sunk into a state of idleness and 
 disorder. This gave the .^tolians room to 
 attempt a footing in Peloponnesus. By the way 
 they made some booty in the country about 
 Patrse and Dyme, and then proceeded to Messene, 
 and laid waste^ its territories. Aratus was in- 
 censed at this insolence, but he perceived that 
 Timoxenus, who was then general, took slow and 
 dilatory measures, because his year was almost 
 expired. Therefore, as he was to succeed to the 
 command, he anticipated his commission by five 
 days, for the sake of assisting the Messenians. 
 He assembled the Achseans, but they had now 
 neither exercise nor courage to enable them to 
 maintain the combat, and consequently he was 
 beaten in a battle which he fought at Caphyse. 
 Being accused of having ventured too much on 
 this occasion,! he became afterwards so cold, and 
 
 * Cleomenes had intrenched himself so strongly 
 near Sellasia, in a narrow pass between the moun- 
 tains Eva and Olympus, that Antigonus did not 
 think proper to attack him there. It is not easy 
 to comprehend what could induce Cleomenes to 
 come out of these intrenchments, and risk a 
 pitched battle. His troops were not so numerous 
 as the enemy’s by one-third ; and he was supplied 
 with all sorts of provisions from Sparta : what 
 then could make him hazard a battle, the event of 
 which^ was to decide the fate of Lacedsemon ? 
 Polybius, indeed, seems to insinuate the cause of 
 this proceeding; for he tells us, that Ptolemy, 
 king of Egypt, who had promised to assist him in 
 this war, acquainted him that he was not in a con- 
 dition to make good his engagements. And as 
 Cleomenes did not choose to try the other alter- 
 native, that of suing to Antigonus for a peace, he 
 risked all upon the event of that day. 
 
 t, Aratus was accused in this assembly, first, of 
 having taken the command upon him before his 
 time. In the next place, he was blamed for 
 having dismissed the Achsean troops, while the 
 ^tolians were still in the heart of Peloponnesus. 
 The third article against him was, his venturing 
 a battle with so few troops, when he might have 
 
 so far abandoned his hopes for the public, as to 
 neglect the opportunities which the ^tolians 
 gave him, and suffered them to roam about Pelo- 
 ^ bacchanalian manner, committing 
 all the excesses that insolence could suggest. 
 
 The Achseans were now obliged to stretch out 
 meir hands again towards Macedonia, and brought 
 I hihp to interfere in the affairs of Greece. They 
 knew the regard he had for Aratus, and the con- 
 fidence he placed in him, and hoped on that 
 amount to find him tractable and easy in all their 
 affairs. But the king now first began to listen 
 to Apelles, Megalacus, and other courtiers, who 
 endeavoured to darken the character of Aratus, 
 and prevailed upon him to support the contrary 
 party, by^ which means Eperatus was elected 
 general of _ the Achseans. Eperatus, however, 
 soon fell into the greatest contempt amongst 
 them, and as Aratus would not give any attention 
 to their concerns, nothing went well. Philip, 
 finding that he had committed a capital error^ 
 turned again to Aratus, and gave himself up 
 entirely to his direction. As his affairs now 
 prospered, and his power and reputation grew 
 under the culture of Aratus, he depended entirely 
 on him for the farther increase of both. Indeed, 
 It was evident to all the world, that Aratus had 
 excellent talents, not only for guiding a common- 
 wealth, but a kingdom too ; for there appeared a 
 tincture of his principles and manners in all the 
 conduct of this young prince. Thus the mode- 
 ration with which he treated the Spartans,’^' after 
 they had offended him, his engaging behaviour 
 to the pretans, by which he gained the whole 
 island in a few days, and the glorious success 
 of his expedition against the ^tolians, gained 
 Philip the honour of knowing how to follow 
 good^ counsel, and Aratus that of being able to 
 give it. 
 
 On this account the. courtiers envied him still 
 
 made, with great ease, a safe retreat to the 
 neighbouring towns, and there reinforced his 
 army. The last and heaviest charge against him 
 was, that after he had resolved to give the enemy 
 battle, he did not, in the whole action, take one 
 step that became a general of any experience : 
 for he sent the cavalry and light-armed foot to 
 attack the enemy’s rear, after their front had 
 gained the advantage ; whereas he ought to have 
 encountered the front at first with the advantage 
 of having them on the declivity ; in which case his 
 heavy-armed infantry would have done him great 
 service. Plowever, he endeavoured to prove that 
 the loss of the battle was not his fault ; adding, 
 that if he had been wanting in any of the duties 
 of an able general, he asked pardon, and hoped 
 that, in regard of his past services, they would 
 not censure him with rigour.. This submission of 
 his changed the minds of the whole assembly, and 
 the people began to vent their rage upon his 
 accusers. 
 
 * The Spartans had killed one of their Ephori; 
 and some others of their citizens who were in the 
 interest of Philip ; and some of his counsellors 
 advised him to revenge the affront with rigour. 
 But he said, that, as the Spartans now belonged 
 to the Achaean league, they were accountable to 
 it ; and that it ill became him to treat them with 
 severity, who were his allies, when his pre- 
 decessor had extended his clemency to them, 
 though enemies. 
 
ARATUS. 
 
 more ; and as they found that their private 
 engines of calumny availed nothing, they began 
 to try open battery, reviling and insulting him at 
 table with the utmost effrontery and lowest abuse. 
 Nay, once they threw stones at him, as he was 
 retiring from supper to his tent. Philip, incensed 
 at such outrage, fined them twenty talents, and, 
 upon their proceeding to disturb and embroil his 
 affairs, put them to death. 
 
 But afterwards he was carried so high by the 
 flow of prosperity a^ to discover many disorderly 
 passions. The native badness of his disx>osition 
 broke through the veil he had put over it, and by 
 degrees his real character appeared. In the first 
 place, he greatly injured young Aratus by cor- 
 rupting his wife ; and the commerce was a long 
 time secret, because he lived under his roof, 
 where he had been received under the sanction 
 of hospitality. In the next place, he discovered 
 a strong aversion to commonwealths, and to the 
 cities that were under that form of government. 
 It was easy to be seen, too, that he wanted to 
 shake off Aratus. The first suspicion of his in- 
 tentions arose from his behaviour wdth respect 
 to the Messenians. There were two factions 
 amongst them which had raised a sedition in the 
 citJ^ Aratus went to reconcile them ; but Philip 
 getting to the place a day before him, added 
 stings to their mutual resentments. On the one 
 hand, he called the magistrates privately, and 
 asked them whether they had not laws to restrain 
 the rabble ? And on the other, he asked the 
 demagogues whether they had not hands to 
 defend them against tyrants? The magistrates, 
 thus encouraged, attacked the chiefs of the 
 people, and they in their turn came with superior 
 numbers, and killed the magistrates, with near 
 200 more of their party. 
 
 After Philip had engaged in these detestable 
 practices, which exasperated the Messenians still 
 more against each other, Aratus, when he arrived, 
 made no secret of his resentment, nor did he 
 restrain his son in the severe and disparaging 
 things he said to Philip. The young man had 
 once a particular attachment to Philip, which in 
 those days they distinguished by the name of 
 love ; but, on this occasion, he scrupled not to 
 tell him, that after such a base action, instead 
 of appearing agreeable, he was the most deformed 
 of humankind. 
 
 Philip made no answer, though anger evidently 
 was working in his bosom, and he often muttered 
 to himself while the other was speaking. How- 
 ever, he pretended to bear it with great calmness, 
 and affecting to appear the man of subdued 
 temper and refined manners, gave the elder Ara- 
 tus his hand, and took him from the theatre to 
 the castle of Ithome,* under pretence of sacrificing 
 to Jupiter and visiting the place. This fort, 
 which is as strong as the citadel of Corinth, were 
 it garrisoned, would greatly annoy the neighbour- 
 ing country, and be almost impregnable. After 
 Philip had offered his sacrifice there, and the 
 di\dner came to show him the entrails of the ox, 
 he took them in both hands, and showed them 
 to i^atus and Demetrius of Pharise, sometimes 
 taming them to one, and sometimes to the other, 
 
 * In the printed text it is Ithomata, which 
 agrees wath the name this fort has in Polybius ; 
 but one of the manuscripts gives us ItJwme^ which 
 IS the name Strabo gives it. 
 
 705 I 
 
 and asking them what fhey saw in the entrails 
 of ^ the victim ; whether they warned liim to keep 
 this citadel, or to restore it to the Messenians? 
 Demetrius smiled and said, “ If you have the soul 
 of a diviner, j’^ou wall restore it ; but, if that of a 
 you will hold the bull by both his horns.” 
 By which he hinted that he must have Pelopon- 
 nesus entirely in subjection, if he added Ithome 
 to the citadel of Corinth. Aratus was a long ! 
 time silent, but, upon Philip’s pressing him to I 
 declare his opinion, he said, “There are many | 
 mountains of great strength in Crete, many castles j 
 in Boeotia and Phocis in lofty situations, and | 
 many impregnable places in Acamania, both on 
 the coast and within land. You have seized none 
 of these, and yet they all pay you a voluntary 
 obedience. Robbers, indeed, take to rocks and 
 precipices for security; but for a king there is 
 no such for^ess as honour and humanity. These 
 are the things that have opened to you the 
 Cretan sea, these have imbarred the gates of 
 Peloponnesus. In short, by these it is that, at 
 so early a period in life, you are become general 
 of the one, and sovereign of the other.” Whilst 
 he was yet speaking, Philip returned the entrails 
 to the diviner, and taking Aratus by the hand, 
 drew him along, and said, “ Come on then, let us 
 go as we came ; ” intimatmg that he had over- 
 ruled him, and deprived him of such an acquisi- 
 tion as the city would have been. 
 
 From this time Aratus began to withdraw from 
 court, and by degrees to give up all correspond- 
 ence with Phihp. He refused also to accompany 
 him in his expedition into Epirus, though applied 
 to for that purpose ; choosing to stay at home, 
 lest he should share in the disrepute of his 1 
 actions. But, ^ter Philip had lost his fleet with ® 
 great disgrace in the Roman war, and nothing ■ 
 succeeded to his wash, he returned to Pelopon- ! 
 nesus, and tried once more what art could do to 
 impose upon the Messenians. When he found 
 that his designs were discovered, he had recourse 
 to open hostilities, and ravaged their country. 
 Aratus then saw all his meanness, and broke 
 with him entirely. By this time, too, he per- 
 ceived that he had dishonoured Ids son’s bed ; 
 but though the injm-y lay heavy on Mm, he 
 concealed it from his son, because he could only 
 inform him t^t he was abused, without being 
 able to help him to the means of revenge. There 
 seemed to be a great and imnatural change in 
 Philip, who,_ of a mild and sober young prince, j 
 became a libidinous and cruel tyrant : but in fact j 
 it was not a change of disposition, it was only 
 discovering, in a time of full seciuity, the vices 
 which his fears had long concealed. That his 
 regard for Aratus had originally a great mixture 
 of fear and reverence appeared even in the method 
 he took to destroy him. For though he was very 
 desirous of effecting that cruel purpose, because 
 he neither looked up>on himself as an absolute 
 prince, nor a king, nor even a freeman, while Aratus 
 lived, yet he would not attempt anything-against 
 him in the way of open force, but desired Phau- 
 rion, one of his friends and generals, to take him 
 off in a private manner, in his absence. At the 
 same time he recommended poison. That oflicer 
 accordingly having formed an acquaintance with 
 him, gave him a dose, not of a sharp or violent 
 kind, but such a one as causes lingering heats 
 and a slight cough, and gradually brings the 
 body to decay. Aratus was not ignorant of the 
 
7o6 
 
 FLUTARCH^S LIVES. 
 
 cause of his disorder, but knowing that it availed 
 nothing to discover it to the world, he bore it 
 quietly and in silence, as if it had been an ordinary 
 distemper. Indeed, when one of his friends came 
 to visit him in his chamber, and expressed his 
 surprise at seeing him spit blood, he said, “ Such, 
 Cephalon, are the fruits of royal friendship,” 
 
 Thus died Aratus at ,^^^gium, after he had been 
 seventeen times general of the Achgeans, That 
 people were desirous of having him buried there, 
 and would have thought it an honour to give him 
 a magnificent funeral, and a monument worthy 
 of his life and character. But the Sicyonians 
 considered it as a misfortune to have him interred 
 anywhere but amongst them, and therefore per- 
 suaded the Achaeans to leave the disposal oi his 
 bod}^ entirely to them. As there was an ancient 
 law that had been observed with religious care, 
 against burying any person within their walls, 
 and they were afraid to transgress it on this 
 occasion, they sent to inquire of the priestess of 
 Apollo at Delphi, and she returned this answer : 
 
 Seek you what funeral honours you shall pay 
 To your departed prince, the small reward 
 For liberty restor'd, and glory won? 
 
 Bid Sicyon, fearless, rear the sacred tomb. 
 
 For the vile tongue that dares with impious breath 
 Offend Aratus, blasts the face of Nature, 
 
 Pours horror on the earth, and seas, and skies. 
 
 This oracle gave great joy to all the Achseans, 
 particularly the people of Sicyon. They changed 
 the day of mourning into a festival, and adorning 
 themselves with garlands and white robes, brought 
 the corpse with songs and dances from iFgium 
 to Sicyon. There they selected the most con- 
 j spicuous ground, and interred him as the founder 
 I and deliverer of their city. The place is still 
 j called Arathcm; and there they offer two 
 yearly sacrifices : the one on the fifth of the 
 month Daesius (the Athenians call it Anthe- 
 sterion),* which was the day he delivered the 
 city from the yoke of tyrants, and on which 
 account they call the festival Soteria; the other 
 
 * February. 
 
 on his birthday. The first sacrifice was offered 
 by the priest of Jupiter the Preserver, and the 
 second by the son of Aratus, who, on that occa- 
 sion, wore a girdle, not entirely white, but half 
 purple. The music was sung to the harp by the 
 choir that belonged to the theatre. The proces- 
 .sion was led up by the master of the Gyrnnasium, 
 at the head of the boys and young men ; the 
 senate followed, crowned with flowers, and such 
 of the other citizens as chose to attend. Some 
 small marks of the ceremonies observed on those 
 days still remain, but the greatest part is worn 
 out by time and other circumstances. 
 
 Such was the life and character that history 
 has given us of the elder Aratus. And as to the 
 younger, Philip, who was naturally wicked, and 
 delighted to add insolence to cruelty, gave him 
 potions, not of the deadly kind, but such as 
 deprived him of his reason ; insomuch that he 
 took up inclinations that were shocking and 
 monstrous, and delighted in things that not only 
 dishonoured but destroyed him. Death, there- 
 fore, which took him in the flower of his age, was 
 considered, not as a misfortune, but a deliverance. 
 The vengeance, however, of Jupiter, the patron 
 of hospitality and friendship, visited Philip for 
 his breach of both, and pursued him through 
 li;e ; for he was beaten by the Romans, and 
 forced to yield himself to their discretion. In 
 consequence of which, he was stripped of all the 
 provinces he had conquered, gave up all his ships, 
 except five, obliged himself to pay looo talents, 
 and deliver his son as a hostage.^ He even held 
 Macedonia and its dependencies only at the 
 mercy of the conquerors. Amidst all these 
 misfortunes, he was possessed only of one bless- 
 ing, a son of superior virtue, and him he put to 
 death, in his envy and jealousy of the honours the 
 Romans paid him. He left his crown to his other 
 son Perseus, who was believed not to be his, but 
 a supposititious child, born of a sempstress named 
 Gnathaenium. It was over him that Paulus 
 iFmilius triumphed, and in him ended the royal 
 race of Antigonus ; whereas the posterity of 
 Aratus remained to our days, and still continues 
 in Sicyon and Pellene. 
 
 GALBA. 
 
 IpHiCKATES, the Athenian general, thought that 
 a soldier of fortune should have an attachment 
 both to money and pleasure, that his passions 
 might put him upon fighting with more boldness 
 for a supply. But most others are of opinion, 
 that the main body of an army, like the healthy 
 natural body, should have no motion of its own, 
 but be entirely guided by the head. Hence 
 Paulus i^ilmilius, when he found his army in 
 Macedonia talkative, busy, and ready to direct 
 their general, is said to have given orders, that 
 each should keep his hand fit for action, and his 
 sword sharp, and leave the rest to him. And 
 Plato, perceiving that the best general cannot 
 undertake anything with success, unless his 
 troops are sober, and perfectly united to support 
 him, concluded, that to know how to obey re- 
 quired as generous a disposition, and as rational 
 an education, as to know how to command ; for 
 these advantages would correct the violence and 
 im.petuosity of the soldier with the mildness and 
 
 humanity of the philosopher. Amongst other 
 fatal examples, what happened _ amongst the 
 Romans after the death of Nero, is sufficient to 
 show, that nothing is more dread lul than an 
 undisciplined army actuated only by the impulse 
 of their own ferocity. Demades, seeing the wild 
 and violent motions of the Macedonian army 
 after the death of Alexander, compared it to the 
 Cyclops,! after his eye was put out. But the 
 Roman empire more resembled the extravagant 
 passions and ravings of the Titans, which the 
 poets tell us of, when it was torn in pieces by 
 rebellion, and turned its arms against itself ; not 
 so much through the ambition ot the emperors, as 
 the avarice and licentiousness of the soldiers, who 
 drove out one emperor by another.! 
 
 Dionysius the Sicilian, speaking of Alexander 
 
 f Polyphemus. 
 
 i In the original it is, ‘^as one nail is driven 
 out by another.” 
 
GALBA. 
 
 707 
 
 of Pherae, who reigned in Thessaly only ten 
 months, and then was slain, called him, in de- 
 rision of the sudden change, a theatrical tyrant. 
 But the palace of the Caesars received four 
 emperors in a less space of time, one entering, 
 and another making his exit, as if they had only 
 been acting a part upon the stage. The Romans, 
 indeed, had one con.solation amidst their mis- 
 fortunes, that they needed no other revenge upon 
 the authors of them than to see them destroy each 
 other ; and with the greatest justice of all fell the 
 first, who corrupted the army, and taught them 
 to expect so much upon the change of emperor ; 
 thus dishonouring a glorious action by mercenary 
 considerations, and turning the revolt from Nero 
 into treason. For Nymphidius Sabinus, who, as 
 we observed before,* was joined in commission 
 with Tigellinus, as captain of the praetorian 
 cohorts, after Nero’s affairs were in a desperate 
 state, and it was plain that he intended to retire 
 into Egypt, persuaded the army, as if Nero had 
 already abdicated, to declare Galba emperor, 
 promising every .soldier of the praetorian cohorts 
 7500 drachmas, and the troops that were quar- 
 tered in the provinces 1260 drachmas a man ; a 
 sum which it was impossible to collect without 
 doing infinitely more mischief to the empire than 
 Nero had done in his whole reign 
 
 This proved the immediate ruin of Nero, and 
 soon after destroyed Galba himself. They de- 
 serted Nero in hopes of receiving the money, and 
 despatched Galba bec.iuse they did not receive it. 
 Alterwafds they sought for another who might 
 pay them that sum, b^ut they ruined themselves 
 by their rebellions and treasons, without gaining 
 what they had been made to expect. To give a 
 complete and exact account of the affairs of those 
 times, belongs to the pro essed historian. It is, 
 however, in my province to lay before the reader 
 the most remarkable circumstances in the lives of 
 the Caesars. 
 
 It is an acknowledged truth, that Sulpitius 
 Galba was the richest private man that ever rose 
 to the imperial dignity. But though his extrac- 
 tion vvas of the noblest, from the family of the 
 Servii. yet he thought it a greater honour to be 
 related to Quintus Catulus Capitolinus, who was 
 the first man in his time for virtue and reputation, 
 though he voluntarily left to others the pre- 
 eminence in power. He was also related to 
 Livia, the wife of Augustus, and it was by her 
 interest that he was raised from the office he had 
 in the palace to the dignity of consul. It is said 
 that he acquitted himself in his commission in 
 Germany with honour ; and that he gained more 
 reputation than most commanders, during his 
 proconsulate in Africa. But his simple parsi- 
 monious way of living passed for avarice in an 
 emperor ; and the pride he took in economy and 
 strict temperance was out of character. 
 
 He was sent governor into Spain by Nero, 
 before that emperor had learned to fear such of 
 the citizens as had great authority in Rome. 
 Besides, the mildness of his temper and his ad- 
 vanced time ot life promised a cautious and 
 prudent conduct. The emperor’s receivers,! a 
 most abandoned set of men, harassed the pro- 
 
 * In the Life of Nero, which is lost. 
 
 + Procuratores : they had full powers to 
 collect the revenues, and scrupled no acts of 
 oppression in the course of their proceedings. 
 
 vinces in the most cruel manner. Galba could 
 not assist them against their persecutors, but his 
 concern for their misfortunes, which appeared not 
 less than if he had been a sun'erer himself, afforded 
 them some consolation, even while they were 
 condemned and sold for slaves. Many songs 
 were made upon Nero, and sung everywhere ; 
 and as Galba did not endeavour to suppress tnem, 
 or join the receivers of the revenues in their 
 resentment, that was a circumstance which en- 
 deared him still more to the natives. For by this 
 time he had contracted a friendship with them, 
 having long been their governor. He had borne 
 that commission eight years, when Junius Vindex, 
 who commanded in Gaul, revolted against Nero. 
 It is said that, before this rebellion broke out, 
 Galba had intimations of it in letters from Vindex ; 
 but he neither countenanced nor discovered it, as 
 the governors of other provinces did, who sent the 
 letters they had received to Nero, and by that 
 means ruined the project, as far as was in their 
 power. Yet those same governors afterwards 
 joining in the conspiracy against their prince, 
 showed that they could betray not only Vindex, 
 but themselves. 
 
 But after Vindex had openly commenced 
 hostilities, he wrote to Galba, desiring him to 
 accept the imperial dignity, and give a head to 
 the strong Gallic body which so much wanted 
 one ; which had no less than 100,000 men in 
 arms, and was able to raise a much greater 
 number. 
 
 Galba then called a council of his friends. 
 Some of them advised him to wait and see what 
 motions there might be in Rome, or inclinations 
 for a change. But Titus Vinius, captain of one 
 of the praetorian cohorts, said, “ What room is 
 there, Galua, for deliberation ? To inquire 
 whether we shall continue faithful to Nero is to 
 have revolted already. There is no medium. 
 We must either accept the friendship of Vindex, 
 as if Nero was our declared enemy, or accuse and 
 fight Vindex, because he desires that the Romans 
 should have Galba for their emperor rather than 
 Nero for their tyrant.” Upon this, Galba, by an 
 edict, fixed a day for enfranchising all who should 
 present themselves. The report of this soon 
 drew together a multitude of people who were 
 desirous of a change, and he had no sooner 
 mounted the tribunal than, with one voice, they 
 declared him emperor. He did not immediately 
 accept the title, but accused Nero o great 
 crimes, and lamented the fate of many Romans 
 of great distinction, whom he had barbarously 
 slain ; after which he declared, that he would 
 serve his country with his best abilities, not as 
 Caesar or emperor, but as lieutenant to the senate 
 and people of Rome.* 
 
 That it was a just and rational scheme which 
 Vindex adopted in calling Galba to the empire, 
 there needs no better proof t.jan Nero himself. 
 For though he pretended to look upon the com- 
 motions in Gaul as nothing, yet when he received 
 the news of Galba’s revolt, which he happened to 
 do just after he had bathed, and was sat down to 
 
 * Dio Cassius informs us, that this declaration 
 was made nine months and thirteen days before 
 Galba’s death, and consequently on the third of j 
 April ; for he was assassinated on the fifteenth of j 
 J anuarj'^ in the following year. j 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIFTS, 
 
 70S 
 
 supper, in his madness he overturned the table. 
 However, when the senate had declared Galba 
 an enemy to his countrjr, he affected to despise 
 the danger, and, attempting to be merry upon it, 
 said to his friends, “I have long wanted a pre- 
 tence to raise money, and this will furnish me 
 with an excellent one. The Gauls, when I have 
 conquered them, will be a fine booty, and, in the 
 mean time, I will seize the estate of Galba, since 
 he is a declared enemy, and dispose of it as I 
 think fit.” Accordingly he gave directions that 
 Galba’s estate should be sold; which Galba no 
 sooner heard of, than he exposed to sale all that 
 belonged to Nero in Spain, and more readily 
 found purchasers. 
 
 The revolt from Nero soon became general ; 
 and the governors of provinces declared for 
 Galba : only Clodius Macer in Africa, and Vir- 
 ginius Rufus in Germany, stood out and acted 
 for themselves, but upon different motives. 
 Clodius being conscious to himself of much rapine 
 and many murders, to ^ which his avarice and 
 cruelty had prompted him, was in a fluctuating 
 state, and could not take his resolution either to 
 assume or reject the imperial title. And Vir- 
 ginius, who commanded some of the best legions 
 in the empire, and had been often pressed by 
 them to take the title of emperor, declared, that 
 he would neither take it himself, nor suffer it to 
 be given to any other but the person whom the 
 senate should name. 
 
 Galba was not a little alarmed at this at first. 
 But after the forces of Virginius and Vindex had 
 overpowered them, like charioteers no longer able 
 to^ manage the reins, and forced them to fight, 
 Vindex lost 20,000 Gauls in the battle, and then 
 despatched himself. A report was then current, 
 that the victorious army, in consequence of so 
 great an advantage, would insist that Virginius 
 should accept the imperial dignity, and that, if 
 he refused it, they would turn again to Nero. 
 This put Galba in a great consternation, and he 
 wrote letters to Virginius exhorting him to act in 
 concert with him, for preserving the empire and 
 liberty of the Romans. After which he retired 
 with his friends to Colonia, a city in Spain, and 
 there spent some time, rather in repenting what 
 he had done, and wishing for the life of ease and 
 leisure, to which he had so long been accustomed, 
 than taking any of the necessary steps for his 
 promotion. 
 
 It was now the beginning of summer, when one 
 evening, a little before night, one of Galba’s 
 freedmen, a native of Sicily, arrived in seven days 
 from Rome. Being told that Galba was retired 
 to rest, he ran up to his chamber, and having 
 opened it, in spite of the resistance of the chamber- 
 lains, informed him, that as Nero did not appear, 
 though he was living at that time, the army first, 
 and then the people and senate of Rome, had 
 declared'Galba emperor ; and that, not long after, 
 news was brought that Nero was dead. He 
 added, that he was not satisfied with the report, 
 but went and saw the dead body of the tyrant, 
 before he would set out. Galba was greatly 
 elevated by this intelligence ; and he encouraged 
 the multitudes that soon attended at the door by 
 communicating it to them, though the expedition 
 with which it was brought appeared incredible. 
 But, two days after, Titus Vinius, with many 
 others, arrived from the camp, and brought an 
 account of all the proceedings of thej senate. 
 
 Vinius * was promoted to an honourable employ- 
 ment ; while the freedman had his name changed 
 from Icelus to Marcianus, was honoured with 
 the privilege of wearing the gold ring, and had 
 more attention paid him than any of the other 
 freedmen. 
 
 Meantinie, at Rome, Nymphidius Sabinus got 
 the administration into his hands, not by slow 
 and insensible steps, but with the greatest celerity. 
 He knew that Galba, on account of his great age, 
 being now seventy-three, was scarce able to make 
 the journey to Rome, though carried in a litter. 
 Besides, the forces there had been long inclined 
 to serve him, and now they depended upon him 
 only, considering him as their benefactor on 
 account of the large gratuity he had promised, 
 and Galba as their debtor. He therefore imme- 
 diately commanded his colleague Tigellinus to 
 give up his sword. He made great entertain- 
 ments, at which he received persons of consular 
 dignity, and such as had commanded armies and 
 provinces ; yet he gave the invitation in the name 
 of Galba. He likewise instructed many of the 
 soldiers to suggest it to the praetorian cohorts, 
 that they should send a message to Galba, de- 
 manding that Nymphidius should be always their 
 captain, and without a colleague. The readiness 
 the senate expressed to add to his honour and 
 authority, in calling ^ him their benefactor, in 
 going daily to pay their respects at his gate, and 
 desiring that he would take upon him to propose 
 and confirm every decree, brought him to a much 
 higher pitch of insolence ; insomuch that, in a 
 little time he became not only obnoxious, but 
 formidable to the very persons that paid their 
 court to him. When the consuls had charged 
 the public messengers with the decrees to be 
 carried to the emperor, and had sealed the 
 instruments with their seal, in order that the 
 magistrates of the towns through which they were 
 to pass, seeing their authority, might furnish 
 them with carriages at every different stage for 
 the great expedition, he resented it, that they 
 had not made use of his seal, and employed his 
 men to carry the despatches. It is said that he 
 even had it under consideration whether he should 
 not punish the consuls ; but upon their apologizing 
 and begging pardon for the affront, he was ap- 
 peased. To ingratiate himself with the people, 
 he did not hinder them from despatching by 
 torture such of Nero’s creatures as fell into their 
 hands. A gladiator, named Spicillus, was put 
 under the, statues of Nero, and dragged about 
 with them in the foriwt till he died : Aponius, 
 one of the informers, was extended on the ground, 
 and waggons, loaded with stones, driven over 
 him. They tore many others in pieces, and some 
 who were entirely innocent. So that Mauriscus, 
 who had not only the character of one of the best 
 men in Rome, but really deserved it, said one 
 day to the senate, he was afraid they should soon 
 regret the loss of Nero. 
 
 Nymphidius, thus advancing in his hopes, was 
 not at all displeased at being called the son of 
 
 * Vinius was of a prsetorian family, and had 
 behaved with honour as governor of Gallia Nar- 
 bonensis ; but when he became the favourite and 
 first minister of the emperor of Rome, he soon 
 made his master obnoxious to the people, and 
 ruined himself. The truth is, he was naturally of 
 a bad disposition, and a man of no principle. 
 
GALBA. 
 
 709 
 
 Cams Caesar, who_ reigned after Tiberius. It 
 seems that prince, in his youth, had some com- 
 merce with his mother, who was daughter of 
 Calistus, one of Caesar’s freedmen, by a semp- 
 stress, and who was not wanting in personal 
 charms. But it is evident that the connection 
 Caius had with her, was after the birth of 
 Nymphidius ; and it was believed that he was 
 the son of Martianus the gladiator, whom 
 Nymphidia fell in love with, on account of his 
 reputation in his way ; besides his resemblance 
 to the gladiator gave a sanction to that opinion. 
 Be that as it may, he acknowledged himself the 
 son of Nymphidia, and yet insisted that he was 
 the only person who deposed Nero. Not content 
 with the honours and emoluments he enjoyed on 
 that ^account, .... he aspired to the imperial 
 seat,* and had his engines privately at work in 
 Rome, in which he employed his friends, with 
 some intriguing women, and some men of con- 
 sular rank. He sent also Gellianus, one of his 
 friends, into Spain, to act as a spy upon Galba. 
 
 After the death of Nero, all things went for 
 Galba according to his wish ; only the uncer- 
 tainty what part Virginius Rufus would act, gave 
 him some uneasiness. Virginius commanded a 
 powerful army, which^ had already conquered 
 Vindex ; and he held in subjection a very con- 
 siderable part of the Roman empire ; for he was 
 master not only of Germany, but Gaul, which 
 was in great agitations, and ripe for a revolt. 
 Galba, therefore, was apprehensive that he would 
 listen to those who offered him the imperial 
 purple. Indeed, there was not an officer of 
 greater name or reputation than Virginius, nor 
 one who had more weight in the affairs of those 
 times ; for he had delivered the empire both from 
 tyranny and from a Gallic war. He abode, 
 however, by his first resolution, and reserved the 
 appointment of emperor for the senate. After 
 Nero’s death was certainly known, the troops 
 again^ pressed hard upon Virginius, and one of 
 the tribunes drew his sword in the pavilion, and 
 bade him receive either sovereign power or the 
 steel ; but the menace had no effect. At last, 
 after Fabius Valens, who commanded one legion, 
 had taken the oath of fidelity to Galba, and 
 letters arrived from Rome with an account of 
 the senate’s decree, he persuaded his army, 
 though with great difficulty, to acknowledge 
 Galba. The new emperor having sent Flaccus 
 Hordeonius as his successor, he received him in 
 that quality, and delivered up his forces to him. 
 He then went to meet Galba, who was on his 
 journey to Rome, and attended him thither, 
 without finding any marks either of his favour 
 or resentment. The reason of this was, that 
 Galba, on the one hand, considered him in too 
 respectable a light to offer him any injury : and, 
 on the other hand, the emperor’s friends, par- 
 ticularly Titus Vinius, were jealous of the pro- 
 gress he might make in his favour. But that 
 officer was not aw^e, that, while he was pre- 
 venting his promotion, he was co-operating with 
 his good genius, in_ withdrawing ffim from the 
 wars and calamities in which other generals were 
 engaged, and bringing him to a life of tranquility 
 full of days and peace. 
 
 The ambassadors, which the senate sent to 
 Gal Da, met him at Narbon, a city of Gaul. 
 There they made their compliments, and advised 
 him to show himself as soon as possible to the 
 
 people of Rome, who were very desirous to see 
 him. He gave them a kind reception, and enter- 
 tained them in an agreeable manner. But though 
 Nymphidius had sent him rich vessels, and other 
 furniture suitable to a great prince, which he had 
 taken out of Nero’s palace, he made use of none 
 of it ; everything was served up in dishes of his 
 own. This was a circumstance that did him 
 honour, for it showed him a man of superior 
 sentiments, and entirely above vanity. Titus 
 Vinius, however, soon endeavoured to convince 
 him, that these superior sentiments, this modesty 
 and simplicity of manners, betrayed an ambition 
 for popular appHuse, which real greatness of 
 mind disdains ; by which argument he prevailed 
 with him to use Nero’s riches, and show all the 
 imperial magnificence at his entertainments. 
 Thus the old man made it appear that in time he 
 would be entirely governed by Vinius. 
 
 _No man had a greater passion for money than 
 Vinius ; nor was any man more addicted to 
 women. While he was yet very young, and 
 rnaking his first campaign under Calvisius Sa- 
 binus, he brought the wife of his general, an 
 abandoned prostitute, one night into the camp 
 in a soldier’s habit, and lay with her in that part 
 of it which the Romans call the Principia. For 
 this, Caius Caesar put him in prison ; but he was 
 released upon the death of that prince. After- 
 wards, happening to sup with Claudius Caesar, 
 he stole a silver cup. The emperor being in- 
 formed of it invited him the following evening, 
 but ordered the attendants to serve him with 
 nothing but earthen vessels. This moderation 
 of the emperor seemed to show that the theft 
 was deserving only of ridicule, and not serious 
 resentment : but what he did afterwards, when 
 he had Galba and his revenues at command, 
 served partly as the cause, and partly as the 
 pretence, for many events of the most tragical 
 kind. 
 
 Nymphidius, upon the return of Gellianus, 
 whom he had sent as a spy upon Galba, was 
 informed that Cornelius Laco was appointed to 
 the command of the guards and of the palace, 
 arid that all the power would be in the hands of 
 Vinius. This distressed him exceedingly, as he 
 had no opportunity to attend the emperor, or 
 speak to him in private ; for his intentions were 
 suspected, and all were on their guard. In this 
 perplexity, he assembled the officers of the 
 praetorian cohorts, and told them that Galba was 
 indeed an old man of mild and moderate senti- 
 ments ; but that, instead of using his own judg- 
 ment, he was entirely directed by Vinius and 
 Laco, who made a bad use of their power. “It 
 is our business, therefore,” continued he, “ before 
 they insensibly establish themselves, and become 
 sole masters, as Tigellinus was, to send ambas- 
 sadors to the emperor in the name of all the 
 troops, and to represent to him, that if he re- 
 moves those two counsellors from his person, 
 he will find a much more agreeable reception 
 amongst the Romans.” Nymphidius perceiving 
 that his officers did not approve the proposal, but 
 thought it absurd and preposterous to dictate the 
 choice of friends to an emperor of his age, as 
 they might have done to a boy who now first 
 tasted power, he adopted another scheme. In 
 hopes of intimidating Galba, he pretended some- 
 times, in his letters, that there were discontents, 
 and dangers of an insurrection in Rome ; some- 
 
710 PLUTARCWS LIVES, 
 
 times, that Clodius hlacer had laid an embargo 
 in Africa on the corn ships. One while he said, 
 the German legions were in motion, and another 
 while that there was the same rebellious dis- 
 position amongst those in Syria and Judaia. But 
 as Galba did not give much attention or credit 
 to his advices, he resolved to usurp the imperial 
 title himself before he arrived ; though Clodius 
 Celsus, the Antiochian, a sensible man, and one 
 of his best friends, did all in his power to dis- 
 suade him; and told him plainly, he did not 
 believe there was one family in Rome that would 
 give him the title of Caesar. Many others, how- 
 ever, made a jest of Galba ; and Mithridates of 
 Pontus, in particular, making merry with his 
 bald head and wrinkled face, said, “The Roinans 
 think him something extraordinary while he is at 
 a distance, but as soon as he arrives, they will 
 consider it a disgrace to the times to have ever 
 called him Csesar.” 
 
 It was resolved, therefore, that Nymphidius 
 should be conducted to the camp at midnight, 
 and proclaimed emperor. But Antonius Hono- 
 ratus, the first tribune, assembled in the evening 
 the troops under his command, and blamed both 
 himself and them, for changing so often in so 
 short a time, not in pursuance of the dictates of 
 reason, or for making a better choice, but because 
 some demon pushed them on from one treason to 
 another. “The crimes of Nero, indeed,” said 
 he, “ may justify our first’ measures. But has 
 Galba murdered his own mother, or his wife? 
 Or has he made you ashamed of your emperor, 
 by appearing as a fiddler or an actor on a stage ? 
 Yet not even these things brought us to abandon 
 Nero; but Nymphidius first persuaded us that 
 he had abandoned us, .and was fled into Egypt. 
 Shall we then sacrifice Galba after Nero ; and 
 when we have destroyed the relation of Livia, as 
 well as the son of Agrippina, set the sou of 
 Nymphidia on the imperial throne? Or rather, 
 after having taken vengeance on a detestable 
 tyrant in Nero, shall we not show ourselves good 
 and faithful guards to Galba ? ” 
 
 Upon this speech of the tribune, all his men 
 acceded to the proposal. They applied also to 
 their fellow-soldfers, and prevailed upon most of 
 them to return to their allegiance. At the same 
 time a loud shout was heard in the camp ; and 
 Nymphidius either believing (which is the ac- 
 count that some give us) that the troops were 
 calling him in order to proclaim him emperor, or 
 else hastening to appease the insurrection, and 
 fix such as he found wavering, went with lights 
 to the camp , having in his hand a speech com- 
 posed for him by Cingonius Varro, which he had 
 committed to memory, in order to pronounce it 
 to the army. But seeing the gates shut, and a 
 number of men in arms upon the wall, his con- 
 fidence abated. However, advancing nearer, he 
 asked them what they intended to do, and by 
 whose command they were under arms. They 
 answered, one and all, that they acknowledged 
 no other emperor but Galba. Then pretending 
 to enter into their opinion, he applauded their 
 fidelity, and ordered those that accompanied him 
 to follow his example. The guard opening the 
 gate, and suffering him to enter with a lew of 
 his people, a javelin was thrown at him, which 
 Septimius, who went before, received upon his 
 shield. But, others drawing their swords, he 
 fled, and was pursued into a soldier’s hut, where 
 
 they despatched him. His body was dragged 
 to the middle of the camp, where they enclosed 
 it with pales, and exposed it to public view the 
 next day. 
 
 Nymphidius being thus taken off, Galba was 
 no sooner informed of it than he ordered such 
 of his accomplices as had not already despatched 
 themselves, to be put to death. Amongst these 
 was Cingonius who composed the oration, arid 
 Mithridates of Pontus. In this the emperor did 
 not proceed according to the laws and customs 
 of the Romans; nor was it indeed a popular 
 measure to inflict capital punishment upon per- 
 sons of eminence, without any form of trial, 
 though they might deserve death. For the 
 Romans, deceived, as it usually happens, by the 
 first report, now expected another kind of gqvern- 
 ment. But what afflicted them most was the 
 order he sent for the execution of Petronius 
 Turpilianus, a man of consular dignity, merely 
 because he had been faithful to Nero. There 
 was some pretence for taking off Macer in Africa, 
 by means of Trebonianus, and Fonteius in Ger- 
 many by Valens, because they were in arms, and 
 had forces that he might be afraid of. But there 
 was no reason why Turpilianus, a defenceless 
 old man, should not have a hearing, at least 
 under a prince who should have preserved in 
 his actions the moderation he so much affected. 
 Such complaints there were against Galba on the 
 subject. 
 
 When he was about five and twenty furlongs 
 from the city, he found the way stopped by a dis- 
 orderly parcel of seamen, who gathered about 
 him on all sides.'*' These were persons whom 
 Nero had formed into a legion, that they might 
 act as soldiers. They now met him on the road 
 to have their establishment confirmed, and crowded 
 the emperor so much, that he could neither be 
 seen nor heard by those who came to wait on him ; 
 for they insisted, in a clamorous manner, on 
 having legionary colours and quarters assigned 
 them. Gal bo put them off to another time ; but 
 they considered that as a denial ; and some of 
 them even drew their swords : upon which he 
 ordered the cavalry to fall upori them. They 
 made no resistance, but fled with the utmost 
 precipitation, and many of them were killed in 
 their flight. It was considered as an inauspicious 
 circumstance for Galba to enter the city amidst so 
 much blood and slaughter. And those who de- 
 spised him before as weak and inactive through 
 age, now looked upon him as an object of fear and 
 horror. 
 
 Besides, while he endeavoured to reform the 
 extravagance and profusion with which money 
 used to be given away by Nero, he missed the 
 mark of propriety. When Canus, a celebrated 
 performer on the flute, played to him one evening 
 at court, after expressing the highest satisfaction 
 at the excellence of his music, he ordered his 
 purse to be brought, and taking out a few pieces 
 of gold,i* gave them to Canus, telling him, at the 
 
 * Dio Cassius tells us (lib. Ixiv.), that 7000 of 
 the disarmed multitude were cut to pieces on the 
 spot ; and others were committed to prison, where 
 they lay till the death of Galba. 
 
 f Suetonius says, Galba gave him five denarii. 
 But at that time there were denarii of gold. That 
 writer adds, that when his table, upon any extra- 
 ordinary occasion, was more splendidly served than 
 
GALBA. 
 
 ^ame time, that this was a gratuity out of his own, 
 not the public money. As for the money which 
 Nero had given to persons that pleased him on the 
 stage, or in the palcFstra^ he insisted with great 
 rigour that it should be all returned, except a 
 tenth part. And as persons of such dissolute 
 lives, who mind nothing but provision for the day, 
 could produce very little, he caused inquiry to be 
 made for all who had bought anything from them, 
 or received presents, and obliged them to refund. 
 This affair extending to great numbers of people, 
 and seeming to have no end, it reflected disgrace 
 upon the emperor, and brought the public envy 
 and hatred on Vinius, because he made the em- 
 peror sordid and mean to others, while he pil- 
 laged the treasury himself in the most insatiable 
 manner, and took and sold whatever he thought 
 proper. 
 
 In short, as Hesiod says — 
 
 Spare not the'full cask, nor when shallow streams 
 Declare the bottom near, withdraw your hand ; 
 
 so Vinius seeing Galba old and infirm, drank 
 freely of the favours of fortune, as only begin- 
 ning, and yet, at the same time, drawing to an 
 end.* * 
 
 But the aged emperor was greatly injured by 
 Vinius, not only through his neglect or misappli- 
 cation of things committed to his trust, but by 
 his condemning or defeating the most salutary 
 intentions of his master. This was the case with 
 respect to punishing Nero’s ministers. Some bad 
 ones, it is true, were put to death, amongst whom 
 were Elius, Polycletus, Petinus, and Patrobius. 
 The people expressed their joy by loud plaudits, 
 when these were led through the fortim to the 
 place of execution, and called it a glorious and 
 holy procession. But both gods and men, they 
 said, demanded the punishment of Tigellinus, who 
 suggested the very worst measures, and taught 
 Nero all his tyranny. That •worthy minister, 
 however, had secured himself by great presents 
 to Vinius, which were only earnests of still greater. 
 Turpilianus, though obnoxious only because he 
 had not betrayed or hated his master, on account 
 of his bad qualities, and though guilty of no 
 remarkable crime, was, notwithstanding, put to 
 death ; while the man who had made Nero unfit to 
 live, and, after he had made him such, deserted 
 and betrayed him, lived and flourished : a proof 
 that there was nothing which Vinius would not 
 sell, and that no man had reason to despair who 
 had money. For there was no sight which the 
 people of Rome so passionately longed for, as that 
 of Tigellinus carried to execution ; and in the 
 theatre and the circus they continually demanded 
 it, till at last the emperor checked them by an 
 edict, importing, that Tigellinus was in a deep 
 consumption, which would destroy him ere long, 
 and that their sovereign entreated them not to 
 
 usual, he could not forbear sighing, and express- 
 ing his dissatisfaction in a manner inconsistent 
 with common decency. 
 
 * Thus, in the court of Galba appeared all the 
 extortions of Nero’s reign. They were equally 
 grievous (says Tacitus), but not equally excused 
 in a prince of Galba’s years and experience. He 
 had himself the greatest integrity of heart ; but 
 as the rapacity and other excesses of his ministers 
 were imputed to him, he was no less hated than if 
 he had committed them himself. 
 
 turn his government into a tyranny by needless 
 acts of severity. 
 
 The people were highly displeased ; but the 
 miscreants only laughed at them. Tigellinus 
 offered sacrifice in acknowledgment to th^e gods 
 for his recovery, and provided a great entertain- 
 ment ; and Vinius rose from the emperor’s table, 
 to go and carouse with Tigellinus, accompanied 
 by his daughter, who was a widow. Tigellinus 
 drank to her, and said, “ I v/ill make this cup 
 \vorth 250,000 drachmas to you.” At the same 
 time he ordered his chief mistress to take off her 
 own necklace and give it her. This was said to 
 be worth 150,000 more. 
 
 From this time the most moderate of Galba’s 
 proceedings were misrepresented.* For instance, 
 his lenity to the Gauls, who had conspired with 
 Vindex, did not escape censure. For it was 
 believed that they had not gained a remission 
 of tribute and the freedom of Rome from the 
 emperor's indulgence, but that they purchased 
 them of Vinius. Hence the people had a general 
 aversion to Galba’s administration. As for the 
 soldiers, though they did not receive w'hat had 
 been promised them, they let it pass, hoping that, 
 if they had not that gratuity, they should cer- 
 tainly have as much as Nero had given them. 
 But when they began to murmur, and their com- 
 plaints were brought to Galba, he said — what well 
 became a great prince — that it was his custom to 
 choose, not to buy his soldiers. This saying, 
 however, being reported to the troops, filled them j 
 with the most deadly and irreconcilable hatred to ' 
 Galba. For it seemed to them that he not only ! 
 wanted to deprive them of the gratuity himself, : 
 but to set a precedent for future emperors. 
 
 The disaffection to the government that pre- 
 vailed in Rome was as yet kept secret in some 
 measure, partly because some remaining reverence 
 for the presence of the emperor prevented the 
 flame of sedition from breaking out, and partly 
 for want of an open occasion to attempt a change. 
 But the troops which had served under Virginius, 
 and were now commanded by Flaccus in Germany, 
 thinking they deserved great things for the battle 
 which they fought with Vindex, and finding that 
 they obtained nothing, began to behave in a very 
 refractory manner, and could not be appeased by 
 their officers. Their general himself they utterly 
 despised, as well on account of his inactivity (for 
 he had the gout in a violent manner) as his want 
 of experience in military affairs. One day, at 
 some public games, when the tribunes and cen- 
 turions, according to custom, made vows for the 
 happiness of the emperor, the common soldiers 
 murmured ; and when the officers repeated their 
 good-wishes, they answered, “If he is worthy.” 
 
 The legions that were under the command of 
 Tigellinus behaved with equal insolence ; of which 
 Galba’s agents wrote him an account. He was 
 now apprehensive, that it was not only his age, 
 but his want of children, that brought him into 
 
 * Though the rest of Galba’s conduct was not 
 blameless, yet (according to Suetonius and Zo- 
 naras) he kept the soldiers to their duty; he 
 punished with the utmost severity those who, by 
 their false accusations, had occasioned the death 
 of innocent persons ; he delivered up to punish- 
 ment such slaves as had borne witness against 
 their masters ; and he recalled those who had 
 been banished by Nero under pretence of treason. 
 
712 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 contempt; and therefore he formed a design to 
 adopt some young man of noble birth, and declare 
 him his successor. Marcus Otho was of a family 
 by no means obscure ; but, at the same time, he 
 was more remarkable from his infancy for luxury 
 and love of pleasure than most of the Roman 
 youth. And, as Homer often calls Paris, the 
 husband of the beauteous Helen, because he had 
 nothing else to distinguish him, so Otho was 
 noted in Rome as the husband of Poppaea. This 
 was the lady whom Nero fell in love with while 
 she was wife to Crispinus ; but retaining as yet 
 some respect for his own wife, and some reverence 
 for his mother, he privately employed Otho to 
 solicit her. For Otho’s debauchery had recom- 
 mended him to Nero as a friend and companion, 
 and he had an agreeable way of rallying him 
 upon what he called his avarice and sordid 
 manner of living. 
 
 We are told, that one day when Nero was 
 perfuming himself with a very rich essence, he 
 sprinkled a little of it upon Otho. Otho invited 
 the emperor the day following, when suddenly 
 gold and silver pipes opened on all sides of the 
 apartment, and poured out essences from them in 
 as much plenty as if it had been water. He 
 applied to Poppsea, according to Nero’s desire, 
 and first seduced her for him, with the flattering 
 idea of having an emperor for her lover ; after 
 which he persuaded her to leave her husband. 
 But when he took her home as his own wife, he 
 was not so happy in having her as miserable in 
 the thought of sharing her with another. And 
 Poppsea is said not to have been displeased with 
 his jealousy ; for it seems she refused to admit 
 Nero when Otho was absent ; whether it was 
 that she studied to keep Nero’s appetite from 
 cloying, or whether (as some say) she did not 
 choose to receive the emperor as a husband, but 
 in her wanton way, took more pleasure in having 
 him approach her as a gallant. Otho’s life, there- 
 fore, was in great danger on account of that 
 marriage ; and it is astonishing, that the man who 
 could sacrifice his wife and sister for the sake of 
 Poppaea, should afterwards spare Otho. 
 
 But Otho had a friend in Seneca ; and it was 
 he who persuaded Nero to send him out governor 
 of Lusitania, upon the borders of the ocean. 
 Otho made himself agreeable to the inhabitants 
 by his lenity ; for he knew that this command 
 was given him only as a more honourable exile.* 
 Upon Galba’s revolt, he was the first governor of 
 a province that came over to him, and he carried 
 with him all the gold and silver vessels he had, 
 to be_ melted down and coined for his use. He 
 likewise presented him with such of his servants 
 as knew best how to wait upon an emperor. He 
 behaved to him, indeed, in all respects with great 
 fidelity ; and it appeared from the specimen he 
 gave, that there was no department in the govern- 
 ment for which he had not talents. He accom- 
 panied him in his whole journey, and was many 
 days in the same carriage with him ; during all 
 which he lost no opportunity to pay his court to 
 Vinius, either by assiduities or presents; and as 
 he always took care to leave him the first place, he 
 was secure by his means of having the second. 
 
 * On this occasion the following distich was 
 made : 
 
 Cur Otho mentito sit quseritis exul honore ; 
 Uxoris msechus caeperat esse suae. 
 
 Besides that there was nothing invidious in this 
 station, he recommended himself by granting his 
 favours and services without reward, and by his 
 general affability and politeness. He took most 
 pleasure in serving the officers of the army, and 
 obtained governments for many of them, partly 
 by applications to the emperor, and partly to 
 Vinius and his freedmen, Icelus and Asiaticus, 
 ■for these had the chief influence at court. 
 
 Whenever Galba visited him, he complimented 
 the company of guards that was upon duty with 
 a piece of gold for each man ; thus practising 
 upon and gaining the soldiers, while he seemed 
 only to be doing honour to their master. When 
 Galba was deliberating on the choice of a suc- 
 cessor, Vinius proposed Otho. Nor was this a 
 disinterested overture, for Otho had promised to 
 marry Vinius’s daughter, after Galba had adopted 
 him, and appointed him his successor. But 
 Galba always showed that he preferred the good 
 of the public to any private considerations ; and 
 in this case he sought not for the man who might 
 be most agreeable to himself, but one who 
 promised to be the greatest blessing to the 
 Romans. Indeed it can hardly be supposed that 
 he would have appointed Otho heir even to his 
 private patrimony, when he knew how expensive 
 and profuse he was, and that he was loaded with 
 a debt of 5,000,000 drachmas. He therefore 
 gave Vinius a patient hearing, without returning 
 him any answer, and put off the affair to another 
 time. However, as he declared himself consul, 
 and chose Vinius for his colleague, it was sup- 
 posed that he would appoint a successor at the 
 beginning of the next year, and the soldiers 
 wished that Otho might be the man. 
 
 But while Galba delayed the appointment, and 
 continued deliberating, the army mutinied in 
 Germany. ' All the troops throughout the empire 
 hated Galba, because they had not received the 
 promised donations, but those in Germany had 
 a particular apology for their aversion. They 
 alleged, that Virginius _ Rufus, their general, 
 had been removed with ignominy, and that the 
 Gauls, who had fought against them, were the 
 only people that were rewarded ; whilst all who 
 had not joined Vindex were punished, and Galba, 
 as if he had obligations to none but him for the 
 imperial diadem, honoured his memory with 
 sacrifices and public libations. 
 
 Such speeches as this were common in the 
 camp, when the calends of January were at hand, 
 and Flaccus assembled the soldiers, that they 
 might take the customary oath of fealty to the 
 emperor. But, instead of that, they overturned 
 and broke to pieces the statues of Galba, and 
 having taken an oath of allegiance to the senate 
 and people of Rome, they retired to their tents. 
 Their officers were now as apprehensive of anarchy 
 as rebellion, and the following speech is said to 
 have been made on the occasion : “ What are we 
 doing, my fellow-soldiers? We neither appoint 
 another emperor, nor keep our allegiance to the 
 present, as if we had renounced not only Galba, 
 but every other sovereign, and all manner of 
 obedience. It is true, Hardeonius Flaccus is no 
 more than the shadow of Galba. Let us quit 
 him. But at the distance of one day’s march 
 only, there is Vitellius, who commands in the 
 Lower Germany, whose father was censor and 
 thrice consul, and in a manner colleague to the 
 emperor Claudius. And though his poverty may 
 
GALBA. 
 
 713 
 
 be a circumstance for which some people may 
 despise him, it is a strong proof of his probity 
 and^ greatness of mind. Let us go and declare 
 him emperor, and show the world that we know 
 how to^ choose a person for that high dignity 
 better than the Spaniards and Lusitanians. 
 
 Some approved and others rejected this motmn. 
 One of the standard-bearers, however, marched 
 off privately and carried the news to Vitellius 
 that night. He found him at table for he was 
 giving a great entertainment to his officers. ±ne 
 news soon spread through the army and Fabius 
 Valens, who commanded one of the legions, went 
 next day at the head of a considerable party ot 
 horse, and saluted Vitellius emperor. For some 
 days before, he seemed to dread the weight oi 
 sovereign power, and totally to decline it : but 
 now, being fortified with the indulgences of the 
 table, to which he had sat down at mid-day, he 
 went out and accepted the title of Germanicus, 
 which the army conferred upon him, tlmugh he 
 refused that of Caesar. Soon after, Flaccus s 
 troops forgot the republican oaths they had taken 
 to the senate and people, and swore allegiance to 
 Vitellius. Thus Vitellius was proclaimed em- 
 peror in Germany. , r .i, • 
 
 As soon as Galba was informed of the insur- 
 rection there, he resolved, without further delay, 
 to proceed to the adoption. He kney/ some of 
 his friends were for Dolabella, and a still greater 
 number for Otho ; but without being guided by 
 the judgment of either party, or making the least 
 mention of his design, he sent suddenly for Piso 
 the son of Crassus and Scribonia, who were put 
 to death by Nero ; a young man foi^ned by 
 nature for every virtue, and distinguished for his 
 modesty and sobriety of manners. ^ In pursuance 
 of his intentions, he went down with him to the 
 camp, to give him the title of Ceesar, and declare 
 him his successor. But he was no sooner out 
 of his palace, than very inauspicious presages 
 appeared. And in the camp, when he delivered 
 a speech to the army, reading some parts and 
 pronouncing others from memory, the many claps 
 of thunder and flashes of lightning, the violent 
 rain that fell, and the darkness that covered both 
 the camp and the city, plainly announced that 
 the gods did not admit of the adoption, and that 
 the issue would be unfortunate. The counten- 
 ances of the soldiers, too, were black and louring, 
 because there was no donation even on that 
 occasion.* ,, ^ 
 
 As to Piso, all that were present could not but 
 wonder, that, so far as they could conjecture 
 from his voice and look, he was not disconcerted 
 with so great an honour, though he did not re- 
 ceive it without sensibility.! On the contrary, in 
 Otho’s countenance there appeared strong marks 
 of resentment, and of the impatience with which 
 he bore the disappointment of his hopes. For 
 his failing of that honour which he had been 
 thought worthy to aspire to, and which he lately 
 believed himself very near attaining, seemed a 
 proof of Galba’s hatred and ill-intentions to him. 
 He was not, therefore, without apprehensions of 
 
 * Tacitus tells us, that a little exertion of 
 liberality would have gained the army \ and that 
 Galba suffered by an unseasonable attention 
 the purity of ancient times. ^ . 
 
 -[• See an excellent speech which Tacitus 
 ascribes to Galba on this occasion. 
 
 what might befall him afterwards ; and dreading 
 Galba, execrating Piso, and full of indignation 
 against Vinius, he retired with th^ confusion ot 
 passions in his heart. But the Chaldeans and 
 other diviners, whom he had always about him, 
 would not suffer him entirely to give up his 
 hopes, or abandon his design. In particular he 
 relied on Ptolemy, because he had formerly pre- 
 dicted that he should not fall by the hand ot 
 Nero but survive him, and live to ascend the 
 imperial throne. For, as the former part of the 
 prophecy proved true, he thought he had no 
 reason to despair of the latter. None, however, 
 exasperated him more against Galba than those 
 who condoled with him in private, and pretpded 
 that he had been treated with great ingratitude. 
 Besides, there was a number of people that had 
 flourished under Tigellinus and Nyinphidius, and 
 now lived in poverty and disgrace, who, to recom- 
 mend themselves to Otho, expressed great indig- 
 nation at the slight he had suffered, and urged 
 him to revenge it. Amongst these were Veturius, 
 who was optio, or centurion s deputy, 
 Barbius, who was tesserarhis, or one of those 
 that carry the word from the tribunes to the cen- 
 turions.* Onomastus, one of Otho’s freedmen, 
 joined them, and went from troop to troop, cor- 
 rupting some with money, and others with prc> 
 mises. Indeed, they were corrupt enough 
 already, and wanted only an opportunity to put 
 their designs in execution. If they had not been 
 extremely disaffected, they could not have been 
 prepared for a revolt in so short a space of 
 as that of four days, which was all that passed 
 between the adoption and the assassination ; 
 for Piso and Galba were both slain the sixth 
 day after, which was the fifteenth of January. 
 Early in the morning Galba sacrificed in the 
 
 ji.ariy m uic . . 
 
 palace in presence of his friends. Umbricius, 
 the diviner, no sooner took the entrails^ in his 
 hands than he declared, not in enigmatical ex- 
 pressions, but plainly that there were signs of 
 great troubles and of treason that threatened 
 immediate danger to the emperor. Thus Otho 
 was almost delivered up to Galba by the hand of 
 the gods; for he stood behind the emperor, 
 listening with great attention to the observations 
 made by Umbricius. These put him in great 
 confusion, his fears were discovered by his change 
 of colour, when his freedman Onomastus came 
 and told him that the architects were come, and 
 waited for him at his house. This was the signal 
 for Otho’ s meeting the soldiers. He pretended, 
 therefore, that he had bought an old house, 
 which these architects were to examine, and 
 going down by what is called Tiberius’s palace, 
 went to that part of the /oru7U where stands the 
 gilded pillar which terminates all the great roads 
 
 ^^Tlfe^oldierswho received him, and saluted him 
 emperor, are said not to have been more than 
 twenty-three. So that, though he had nothing 
 
 * The way of setting the nightly guard was by 
 a iessera, or tally, with a particular inscription, 
 given from one centurion to another, quite 
 through the army, till it came again to the tribune 
 who first delivered it. 
 
 t This pillar was set up by Augustus, when he 
 took the highways under his inspection, and 
 had the distances of places from Rome marked 
 upon it. 
 
7H 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES, 
 
 of that dastardly spirit which the delicacy of his 
 constitution and the efifeminacy of his life seemed 
 to declare ; but, on the contrary, was firm and 
 resolute in time of danger ; yet, on this occasion, 
 he was intimidated and wanted to retire. But 
 the soldiers would not suffer it. They surrounded 
 the chair * with drawn swords, and insisted on 
 Its proceeding to the camp. Meantime Otho 
 desired the bearers to make haste, often declaring 
 that he was a lost man. There were some who 
 overheard him, and they rather wondered at the 
 hardiness of the attempt with so small a party 
 than disturbed themselves about the conse- 
 quences. As he was carried through the foru77i 
 about the same number as the first joined him, 
 and others afterward by three or four at a time. 
 The whole party then saluted him Caisar, and 
 conducted him to the camp, flourishing their 
 swords before him. Martialis, the tribune who 
 kept guard that day, knowing nothing (as they 
 tell us) of the conspiracy, was surprised and 
 terrified at so unexpected a sight, and suffered 
 them to enter. When Otho was within the camp, 
 he met with no resistance, for the conspirators 
 gathered about such as were strangers to the 
 design, and made it their business to explain it to 
 them ; upon which they joined them by one or 
 two at a time, first out of fear, and afterwards 
 out of choice. 
 
 The news was immediately carried to Galba, 
 while the diviner yet attended, and had the en- 
 trails in his hands ; so that they who had been 
 most incredulous in matters of divination, and 
 even held it in contempt before, were astonished 
 at the divine interposition in the accomplishment 
 of this presage. People of all sorts now crowding 
 from the forum to the palace, Vinius and Laco, 
 with some of the emperors freedmen, stood 
 beiore him with drawn swords to defend him. 
 Piso went out to speak to the life-guards, and 
 Marius Celsus, a man of great courage and 
 honour, was sent to secure the Illyrian legion, 
 which lay in Vipsanius’s portico. 
 
 Galba was inclined to go out to the people. 
 Vinius endeavoured to dissuade him from it ; but 
 Celsus and Laco encouraged him to go on, and 
 expressed themselves with some sharpness against 
 Vinius. Meantime a strong report prevailed that 
 Otho was slain in the camp; soon after which, 
 Julius Atticus, a soldier of some note amongst the 
 guards, carne up, and crying that he was the man 
 that had killed Caesar s enemy, made his way 
 through the crowd, and showed his bloody sword 
 to Galba. The emperor, fixing his eye upon him, 
 “Who gave you orders?” He answered, 
 My allegiance and the oath I had taken ; ” and 
 the people expressed their approbation in loud 
 plaudits. Galba then went out in a sedan chair, 
 with a design to sacrifice to Jupiter, and show 
 himself to the people. But he had no sooner 
 entered the forum than the rumour changed like 
 tne wind, and news met him, that Oiho was 
 master of the camp. On this occasion, as it was 
 natural amongst a multitude of people, some 
 called out to him to advance, and some to retire ; 
 some to take courage, and some to be cautious. 
 His chair was tossed backward and forward, as in 
 a tempest, and ready to be overset, when there 
 appeared first a party of horse, and then another of 
 
 Suetonius says, he got into a woman’s sedan, 
 in order to be the better concealed. 
 
 foot, issuing from the Basilica of Paulus, and 
 crying out, “Away with this private man!” 
 Numbers were then running about, not to separate 
 by flight, but to possess themselves of the porticos 
 and eminences about the forum, as if it were to 
 enjoy some public spectacle. Atilius Virgilio beat 
 down one of Galba s statues, which served as a 
 signal for hostilities, and they attacked the chair 
 on all sides with javelins. As those did not de- 
 spatch him, they advanced sword in hand. In this 
 time of trial none stood up in his defence but one 
 man, who, indeed, amongst so many millions, was 
 the only one that did honour to the Roman empire, 
 ihi.s was Sempronius Densus,* a centurion, who, 
 without any particular obligations to Galba, and 
 only from a regard to honour and the law, stood 
 forth to defend the chair. First of all he lifted up 
 the yinebranch, with which the centurions 
 chastise such as deserve stripes, and then called 
 out to the soldiers who were pressing on, 
 and commanded them to spare the emperor. 
 They fell upon him, notwithstanding, and he 
 drew his sword and fought a long time, till he 
 received a stroke in the ham, which brought him 
 to the ground. 
 
 The chair was overturned at what is called the 
 Curtian lake, and Galba tumbling out of it, they 
 ran to despatch him. At the same time he pre- 
 sented his throat, and said, “ Strike, if it be for 
 the good of Rome.” He received many strokes 
 upon his arms and legs, for he had a coat of mail 
 upon his body. According to most accounts, it 
 was Camurius, a soldier of the fifteenth legion 
 that despatched him ; though some say it was 
 Terentius, some Arcadius,t and others Fabius 
 F^abulus. They add, that when Fabius had cut 
 off his head, he wrapped it up in the skirt of his 
 garment, because it was so bald that he could 
 take no hold of it. His associates, however, 
 would not suffer him to conceal it, but insisted 
 that he should let the world see what an exploit 
 he had performed ; he therefore fixed it upon the 
 point of his spear, and swinging about the head 
 of a venerable old man, and a mild prince, who 
 was both Pontifex MaxBnus and consul, he 
 ran on (like the Bacchanals with the head of 
 Pentheus), brandishing his spear, that was dyed 
 with the blood that trickled from it. 
 
 When the head was presented to Otho, he cried 
 out, “ This is nothing, my fellow-soldiers ; show 
 me the head of Piso.” It was brought not long 
 after ; for that young prince being wounded, and 
 pursued by one Murcus, was killed by him at the 
 gates of the temple of Vesta. Vinius also was 
 put to the sword, though he declared himself an 
 accomplice in the conspiracy, and protested that 
 It was against Otho’s orders that he suffered. 
 However, they cut off his head, and that of Laco, 
 and carrying them to Otho, demanded their 
 reward. For, as Archilochus sa3^s : 
 
 We bring seven warriors only to your tent. 
 
 Yet thousands of us kill’d them ; 
 
 so in this case many who had no share in the 
 
 * In the Greek text it is Indisirus ; bu^ that 
 text (as we observed before), in the Life of Galba, 
 is extremely corrupt. We have therefore given 
 Densus from Tacitus ; as Virgilio, instead of Ser- 
 cello, above. 
 
 t In Tacitus Lecanins. That historian makes 
 no mention of Fabius. 
 
OTHO. 
 
 : action, bathed their hands and swords in the | 
 ' blood, and showing them to Otho, petitioned for 
 their reward. It appeared afterwards, from the 
 petitions given in, that the number of them was 
 120 ; and Vitellius, having searched them out, 
 put them all to death. Marius Celsus also 
 coming to the camp, many accused him of having 
 exhorted the soldiers to stand by Galba, and the 
 bulk of the army insisted that he should suffer. 
 But Otho being desirous to save him, and yet 
 afraid of contradicting them^ told them he did 
 not choose to have him executed so soon, because 
 he had several important questions to put to him. 
 He ordered him, therefore, to be kept in chains, 
 and delivered him to persons in whom he could 
 best confide. 
 
 The senate was immediately assembled ; and as 
 if they were become different men, or had other 
 gods to swear by, they took the oath to Otho, 
 which he had before taken to Galba, but had not 
 kept ; and they gave him the titles of Csesar and 
 Augustus, while the bodies of those that had been 
 beheaded lay in their consular robes in the fo'/nm. 
 As for the heads, the soldiers, after they had no 
 farther use for them, sold that of Vinius to 
 his daughter for 2500 draclunas. Piso’s was 
 given to his wife Verania, at her request;* and 
 Galba’s to the servants of Patrobius and Vitel- 
 lius,+ who, after they had treated it with the 
 utmost insolence and outrage, threw it into a 
 place called Sesterthun, X where the bodies of 
 
 • Tacitus (lib. i.) says she purchased it. 
 t Galba had put Patrobius to death ; but we 
 know not why the servants of Vitellius should 
 desire to treat Galba's remains with any in- 
 dignity. 
 
 J Lipsius says, it was so called quasi semi- 
 
 715 
 
 those are cast that are put to death by the em- 
 perors. Galba’s corpse was carried away by 
 Helvidius Priscus, with Otho’s permission, and 
 buried in the night by his freedman Argius. 
 
 Such is the history of Galba ; a man, who, in 
 the points of family and fortune distinctlj'’ con- 
 sidered, was exceeded by few of the Romans, 
 and who, in the union of both was superior to all. 
 He had lived, too, in great honour, and with the 
 best reputation, under five emperors ; and it was 
 rather by his character than by force of arms that 
 he deposed Nero. As to the rest who conspired 
 against the tyrant, some of them were thought 
 unworthy of the imperial diadem by the people, 
 and others thought themselves unworthy. But 
 Galba was invited to accept it, and only followed 
 the sense of those who called him to that high 
 dignity. Nay, when he gave the sanction of his 
 name to Vindex, that which before was called 
 rebellion was considered only as a civil war, 
 because a man of princely talents was then at the 
 head of it. So that he did not so much want the 
 empire as the empire wanted him : and with 
 these principles he attempted to govern a people 
 corrupted by Tigellinus and Nymphidius, as 
 Scipio, Fabricius, and Camillus governed the 
 Romans of their times. Notwithstanding his 
 great age, he showed himself a chief worthy of 
 ancient Rome through all the military depart- 
 ment : but, in the civil administration, he delivered 
 himself up to Vinius, to Laco, and to his enfran- 
 chised slaves, who sold everything in the pme 
 manner as Nero had left all to his insatiable 
 vermin. The consequence of this was, that no 
 man regretted him as an emperor, though almost 
 all were moved with pity at his miserable fate. 
 
 tertmm, as being two miles and a half from the 
 city. 
 
 OTHO. 
 
 The new emperor went early in the morning 1 
 to the Capitol, and sacrificed ; after which he 
 ordered Marius Celsus to be brought before him. 
 He received that officer with great marks of his 
 regard, and desired him rather to forget the 
 cause of his confinement than to remember his 
 release. Celsus neither showed any meanness in 
 his acknowledgments, nor any want of gratitude. 
 He said the very charge brought against him 
 bore witness to his character ; since he was 
 i accused only of having been faithful to Galba, 
 j from whom he had never received any personal 
 obligations. All who were present at the 
 audience admired both the emperor and Celsus, 
 and the soldiers in particular testified their 
 approbation. § 
 
 Otho made a mild and gracious speech to the 
 senate. The remaining time of his consulship he 
 
 § Otho exempted the soldiers from the fees 
 which they had paid the centurions for furloughs 
 and other immunities : but at the same time 
 promised to satisfy the centurions, on all reason- 
 able occasions, out of his own revenue. In con- 
 j sequence of these furloughs, the fourth part of a 
 j legion was often absent, and the troops became 
 daily more and more corrupted. 
 
 divided with Virginius Rufus, and he left those 
 who had been appointed to that dignity by Nero 
 and Galba, to enjoy it in their course. Such as 
 were respectable for their age and character, he 
 promoted to the priesthood ; and to those senators 
 who had been banished by Nero, and recalled by 
 Galba, he restored all their goods and estates 
 that he found unsold. So that the first and best 
 of the citizens, who had before not considered 
 him as a man, but dreaded him as a fury or 
 destroying demon that had suddenly seized the 
 seat of government, now entertained more pleasing 
 hopes from so promising a beginning. 
 
 But nothing gave the people in general so high 
 a pleasure, 11 or contributed so much to gain him 
 their affections, as his punishing Tigellinus. It 
 is true he had long suffered under the fear of 
 punishment, which the Romans demanded as a 
 public debt, and under a complication of incur- 
 able distempers. These, together with his in- 
 famous connections with the worst of prostitutes, 
 into which his passions drew him, though almost 
 in the arms of death, were considered by the 
 thinking part of mankind as the greatest of 
 
 II In the close of the day on which he was 
 inaugurated, he put Laco and Icelus to death. 
 
7i6 
 
 PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 punishments, and worse than many deaths. Yet 
 it was a pain to the common people, that he 
 should see the light of the sun, after so many 
 excellent men had been deprived of it through 
 his means. He was then at his country house 
 near Sinuessa, and had vessels at anchor, ready 
 to carry him on occasion to some distant country. 
 Otho sent to him there ; and he first attempted 
 to bribe the messenger with large sums to suffer 
 him to escape. When he found that did not take 
 effect, he gave him the money notwithstanding ; 
 and desiring only to be indulged a few moments 
 till he had shaved himself, he took the razor and 
 cut his own throat. 
 
 Besides this just satisfaction that Otho gave 
 the people, it was a most agreeable circumstance 
 that he remembered none of his private quarrels. 
 To gratify the populace, he suffered them also at 
 first to give him in the theatres the name of Nero, 
 and he made no opposition to those who erected 
 publicly the statues of that emperor. Nay, 
 Claudius Rufus * tells us that, in the letters with 
 with which the couriers were sent to Spain, he 
 joined the name of Nero to that of Otho. But 
 perceiving that the nobility were offended, he 
 made use of it no more. 
 
 After his government was thus established, the 
 praetorian cohorts gave him no small trouble, by 
 exhorting him to beware of many persons of rank, 
 and to forbid them the court ; whether it was 
 their affection made them really apprehensive for 
 him, or whether it was only a colour for raising 
 commotions and wars. One day the emperor 
 himself had sent Crispinus orders to bring the 
 seventeenth cohort from Ostia, and in order to do 
 it without interruption, that officer began to pre- 
 pare for it as soon as it grew dark, and to pack 
 up the arms in waggons. Upon which some of 
 the most turbulent cried out, that Crispinus was 
 come with no good intention, that the senate had 
 some design against the government, and that the 
 arms he was going to carry were to be made use 
 of against Csesar, not for him. This notion soon 
 spread, and exasperated numbers ; some laid hold 
 on the waggons, while others killed two centu- 
 rions who endeavoured to quell the mutiny, and 
 Crispinus himself. Then the whole party anaed, 
 and exhorting each other to go to the emperor’s 
 assistance, they marched straight to Rome. 
 Being informed there that eighty senators 
 supped with him that evening, they hastened to 
 the palace, saying, then was the time to crush all 
 Caesar’s enemies^ at once. The city was greatly 
 alarmed, expecting to be plundered immediately. 
 The palace, too, was in the utmost confusion, 
 and Otho himself in unspeakable distress. For 
 he was under fear and concern for the senators, 
 while they were afraid of him ; and he saw they 
 kept their eyes fixed upon him in silence and 
 extreme consternation ; some having even brought 
 their wives with them to supper. He therefore 
 ordered the principal officers of the guards to go 
 and speak to the soldiers and endeavour to ap- 
 pease them, and at the same time sent out his 
 guests at another door. They had scarce made 
 their escape when the soldiers rushed into the 
 room, and asked what was become of the enemies 
 
 * This writer, who was a man of consular 
 dignity, and succeeded Galba in the government 
 of Spain, was not called Claudius but Cluvius 
 Rufus. 
 
 of Csesar. The emperor then, rising from his 
 couch, used many arguments to satisfy them, and 
 by entreaties and tears at last prevailed upon 
 them with much difficulty to desist. 
 
 Next day, having presented the soldiers with 
 1250 drachmas a man, he entered the camp. 
 On this occasion he commended the troops as 
 in general well affected to his government, but 
 at the same time he told them there were some 
 designing men amongst them, who by their cabals 
 brought his moderation and their fidelity both 
 into question : these, he said, deserved their re- 
 sentment, and he hoped they would assist him in 
 punishing them. They applauded his speech, 
 and desired him to chastise whatever persons he 
 thought proper ; but he pitched upon two only 
 for capital punishment, whom no man could 
 possibly regret, and then returned to his palace. 
 
 Those who had conceived an affection for Otho, 
 and placed a confidence in him, admired this change 
 in his conduct. But others thought it was no 
 mop than a piece of policy which the times neces- 
 sarily required, and that he assumed a popular 
 behaviour on account of the impending war. For 
 now he had undoubted intelligence that Vitellius 
 had taken the title of emperor and all the ensigns 
 of supreme power, and couriers daily arrived v/ith 
 news of continual additions to his party. Other 
 messengers also arrived, with accounts that the 
 forces in Pannonia, Dalmatia, and Mysia, with 
 their generals, had declared for Otho. And a 
 few days after, he received obliging letters from 
 Mucianus and Vespasian, who both oommanded 
 numerous armies, the one in Syria, and the other 
 in Judsea. 
 
 ^ Elated with this intelligence, he wrote to Vitel- 
 lius, advising him not to aspire to things above 
 his rank,^ and promised, in case he desisted, to 
 supply him liberally with money, and gave him 
 a city in which he might spend his days in plea- 
 sure and repose. Vitellius at first gave him an 
 answer, in which ridicule was tempered with 
 civility. But afterwards, being both thoroughly 
 exasperated, they wrote to each other in a style 
 of the bitterest invective. Not that their mutual 
 reproaches were groundless, but it was absurd 
 for the one to insult the other with what might 
 with equal justice be objected to both. For their 
 charges consisted of prodigality, effeminacy, in- 
 capacity for war, their former poverty and im- 
 mense debts ; such articles that it is hard to say 
 which of them had the advantage. 
 
 As to the stories of prodigies and apparitions 
 at that time, many of them were founded upon 
 vague reports that could not be traced to their 
 author. But in the capitol there was a Victory 
 mounted upon a chariot, and numbers of people 
 saw her let the reins fall out of her hands, as if 
 she had lost the power to hold them. And in the 
 island of the Tyber, the statue of Julius Csesar 
 turned from west to east, without either earth- 
 quake or whirlwind to move it. A circumstance 
 which is said likewise to have happened when 
 Vespasian openly took upon him the direction of 
 affairs. The inundation of the Tyber, too, was 
 considered by the populace as a bad omen. It 
 was at a time, indeed, when rivers usually over- 
 flow their banks ; but the flood never rose so high 
 before, nor was so ruinous in its effects ; for now 
 it laid great part of the city under water, par- 
 ticularly the corn market, and caused a famine 
 which continued for some days. 
 
OTHO. 
 
 71 
 
 About this time nevvs was brought that Cecina 
 and Valens, who acted for Vitellius, had seized 
 the passes of the Alps. And in Rome Dolabella, 
 who was of an illustrious family, was suspected 
 by the gupds of some disloyal design. Otho, 
 either fearing him, or some other whom he could 
 I influence, sent him to Aquinum, with assurances 
 I of friendly treatment. When the emperor came 
 j to select the ofiScers that were to attend him on 
 his march, he appointed Lucius, the brother of 
 Vitellius, to be of the number, without either 
 promoting or lowering him in point of rank. He 
 took also particular care of the mother and wife 
 of Vitellius, and endeavoured to put them in a 
 situation where they had nothing to fear. The 
 government of Rome he gave to Flavius Sabinus, 
 the brother of Vespasian ; either with an intention 
 to do honour to Nero (for he had formerly given 
 him that appointment, and Galba had deprived 
 him of it), or else to show his aflfection to Ves- 
 pasian by promoting his brother. 
 
 Otho himself stopped at Brixillum, a town in 
 Italy near the Po, and ordered the army to march 
 on under the conduct of his lieutenants, Marius 
 Celsus, Suetonius Paulinus, Gallus and Spurina, 
 officers of great reputation. But they could not 
 pursue the plan of operations they had formed, 
 by reason of the obstinacy and disorderly be- 
 havioiu: of the soldiers, who declared that tJuy 
 had made the emperor, and they would be com- 
 manded by him only. The enemy’s troops were 
 not under much better discipline ; they, too, were 
 refractory and disobedient to their officers, and on 
 the same accoimt. Yet they had seen service, 
 and were accustomed to fatigue : whereas Otho’s 
 men had been used to idleness, and their manner 
 of living was quite different from that in the field. 
 Indeed, they had spent most of their time at 
 public spectacles and the entertainments of the 
 theatre, and were come to that degree of inso- 
 lence, that they did not pretend to be unable to 
 perform the services they were ordered upon, 
 but affected to be above them. Spurina, who 
 attempted to use compulsion, was in danger of 
 being killed by them. They spared no manner 
 of abuse, calling him traitor, and telling him that 
 it was he who ruined the affairs of C^sar, and 
 purposely missed the fairest opporttmities. Some 
 of them came in the night intoxicated with liquor 
 to his tent, and demanded their discharge, for 
 they had to go, they said, to Caesar, to accuse 
 himr 
 
 The cause, however, and Spurina \\-ith it, re- 
 ceived some benefit from the insult which these 
 troops met with at Placentia. Those of Vitellius 
 came up to the walls, and ridiculed Otho’s men 
 who were appointed to defend them : calling 
 them players and dancers, fit only to attend the 
 Pythian and Olj-mpic games ; fellows who knew 
 nothing of war, who had not even made one 
 campaign, who were swollen up \Hth pride merely 
 because they had cut off the head of a poor un- 
 armed old man (meaning Galba); wretches that 
 durst not look men in the face, or stand anything 
 like a fair and open battle. They were so cut 
 with these reproaches, and so desirous of revenge, 
 that they threw themselves at Spurina’s feet, and 
 begged of him to command and employ them 
 on whatever service he thought proper, assuring 
 him that there was neither danger nor labour 
 which they would decline. After this, the enemy 
 made a \-igorous attack upon the town, and plied 
 
 their battering engines with all their force ; bat 
 Spurina’s men repulsed them with great slaughter, 
 and by that means kept possession of one of the 
 most respectable and most flourishing towns in 
 Italy. 
 
 It must be observed of Otho’s officers in general, 
 that they were more obliging in their behaviour 
 both to cities and private persons than those of 
 Vitellius. Cecina, one of the latter, had nothing 
 popular either in his address or his figure- He 
 was of a gigantic size and most uncouth appear- 
 ance ; for he wore breeches and long sleeves in 
 the manner of the Gauls, even while his standard 
 was Roman, and whilst he gave his instructions 
 to Roman officers. His wife followed him on 
 horseback, in a rich dress, and was attended by 
 a select party of cavalry. Fabius Valens, the 
 other general, had a passion for money, which 
 was not to be satisfied by any plunder from the 
 enemy, or exactions and contributions from the 
 allies. Insomuch that he was believed to proceed 
 more slowly for the sake of collecting gold as he 
 went, and therefore was not up at the first action. 
 Some, indeed, accuse Cecina of hastening to give 
 battle before the arrival of Valens, in order that 
 the victory might be all his own ; and, beside other 
 less faults, they charged him not only with attack- 
 ing at an imseasonable time, but with not main- 
 taining the combat so gallantly as he ought to 
 have done : all which errors nearly ruined the 
 affairs of his party. 
 
 Cecina, after his repulse at Placentia, marched 
 against Cremona, another rich and great city. In 
 the mean time Annius Gallus, who was going to join 
 Spurina at Placentia, had intelligence by the way 
 that he was victorious, and that the siege was 
 raised. But being informed at the same time that 
 Cremona was in danger, he led his forces thither, 
 and encamped very near the enemy. Afterwards 
 other officers brought in reinforcements. Cecina 
 posted a strong body of infantry under cover of 
 some trees and thickets ; after which, he ordered 
 his cavalry to advance, and if the enemy attacked 
 them, to give way by degrees, and retire, till they 
 had drawn them into the ambuscade. But Celsus 
 being informed of his intention by some deserters, 
 advanced with his best cavalry against Cecina’s 
 troops ; and, upon their retreating, he pursued 
 with so much caution that he surrounded the 
 corps that lay in ambush. Having thus put them 
 in confusion, he called the legions from the camp : 
 and it appears, that if they had come up in time 
 to support the horse, Cecina’s whole army would 
 have been cut in pieces. But as Paulinus ad- 
 vanced very slowly,* he was censured for having 
 used more precaution than became a general of 
 his character. Nay, the soldiers accused him 
 of treachery, and endeavoured to incense Otho 
 against him, insisting that the victory was in their 
 hands, and that if it was not complete, it was 
 owing entirely to the mismanagement of their 
 generals. Otho did not so much believe these 
 representations, as he was wdlhng to appear not to 
 
 * Tacitus tells us, that Paulinus was naturally 
 slow and irresolute. On this occasion he charges 
 him with two errors. The first was, that, instead 
 of advancing immediately to the ch^ge, and sup- 
 porting his cavalry, he trifled away the time in 
 filling up the trenches ; the second, that he did 
 not avail himself of the disorder of the enemy, but 
 sounded much too early a retreat. 
 
PLUTARCH^ S LIVES. 
 
 disbelieve them. He therefore sent his brother 
 Titianus to the army, with Proculus the captain 
 of his guard ; Titianus had the command in 
 appearance, and Proculus in reality. Celsus and 
 Paulinus had the title of friends and counsellors, 
 but not the least authority in the direction of 
 affairs. 
 
 The enemy, too, were not without their dis- 
 satisfactions and disorder, particularly amongst 
 the iorces of Valens. For when they were 
 informed of what happened at the ambuscade, 
 they expressed their indignation that their general 
 did not put it in their power to be there, that they 
 might have used their endeavours to save so many 
 brave men who perished in that action. They 
 were even inclined to despatch him : but having 
 pacified them with much difficulty, he decamped 
 and joined Cecina. 
 
 In the mean time Otho came to the camp at 
 Bednacum, a small town near Cremona, and 
 there held a council of war. Proculus and 
 Titianus were of opinion, that he ought to give 
 battle, while the army retained those high spirits 
 with which the late victory had inspired them, 
 and not suffer that ardour to cool, nor wait till 
 Vitellius came in person from Gaul. But Pau- 
 linus was against it. “ d'he enemy, ” said he, 
 
 ' “ have received all their troops, and have no 
 further preparations to make for the combat ; 
 whereas Otho will have from Mysia and Pannonia 
 forces as numerous as those he has already, if he 
 will wait his own opportunity, instead of giving 
 one to the enemy. And certainly the army he 
 now has, if with their small numbers they have so 
 much ardour, will not fight witn less but greater 
 spirit when they see their numbers so much 
 increased. Besides, the gaining of time makes 
 for us, because we have everything in abundance, 
 but delays must greatly distress Cecina and his 
 colleague for necessaries, because they lie in an 
 enemy’s country.” 
 
 Marius Celsus supported the opinion of Pau- 
 linus. Anmus Gallus could not attend, because 
 he had received some hurt by a fall from his 
 horse, and was under cure. Otho therefore 
 wrote to him, and Gallus advised him not to pre- 
 cipitate matters, but to wait for the army from 
 Mysia, which was already on the way. Otho, 
 however, would not be guided by these counsels, 
 and the opinion of those prevailed who were for 
 hazarding a battle immediately. Different reasons 
 are, indeed, alleged for this resolution. The 
 most probable is, that the prsetorian cohorts, 
 which composed the emperor’s guards, now 
 coming to taste what real war was, longed to be 
 once more at a distance from it, to return to 
 the ease, the company, and public diversions of 
 Rome ; and therefore they could not be restrained 
 in their eagerness for a battle, for they imagined 
 that they could overpower the enemy at the first 
 charge. Besides, Otho seems to have been no 
 longer able to support himself in a state of sus- 
 pense ; such an aversion to the thoughts of danger 
 had his dissipation and effeminacy given him ! 
 Overburdened then by his cares, he hastened to 
 free himself from their weight ; he covered his 
 eyes, and leaped down the precipice; he com- 
 mitted all at once to fortune. Such is the account 
 given of the matter by the orator Secundus, who 
 was Otho’s secretary. 
 
 Others say, that the two parties were much 
 inclined to lay down their arms, and unite in 
 
 choosing an emperor out of the best generals they 
 had ; or, if they could not agree upon it, to leave 
 the election to the senate. Nor is it improbable, 
 as the two who were called emperors were neither 
 of them men of reputation, that the experienced 
 and prudent part of the soldiers should form such 
 a design : for they could not but reflect how 
 unhappy and dreadful a thing it would be to 
 plunge themselves into the same calamities, which 
 the Romans could not bring upon each other 
 without aching hearts, in the quarrels of Sylla and 
 Marius, O: Caesar and Pompey : and for what? 
 but to provide an empire to minister to the in- 
 satiable appetite and the drunkenness of Vitellius, 
 or to the luxury and debaucheries of Otho. 
 These considerations are supposed to have in- 
 duced Celsus to endeavour to gain time, in hopes 
 that matters might be compromised without the 
 sword ; while Otho, out of fear of such an agree- 
 ment, hastened the battle. 
 
 In the mean time he returned to Brixillum,* 
 which certainly was an additional error : for by 
 that step he deprived the combatants of the re- 
 verence ai d emulation which his presence might 
 have inspired, and took a considerable limb from 
 the body of the army, I mean some of the best 
 and most active men, both horse and foot, for his 
 body-guard. There happened about that time 
 a rencontre upon the Po, while Cecina’s troops 
 endeavoured to lay a bridge over that river, and 
 Otho’s to prevent it. The latter finding their 
 efforts ineffectual, put a quantity of torches well 
 covered with brimstone and pitch into some boats, 
 which were carried by the wind and current upon 
 the enemy’s work. First smoke, and afterwards 
 a bright flame arose ; upon which Cecina’s men 
 were so terrified that they leaped into the river, 
 overset their boats, and were entirely exposed to 
 their enemies, who laughed at their awkward 
 distress. 
 
 The German troops, however, beat Otho’s 
 gladiators in a little island of the Po, and killed 
 a considerable number of thern. Otho’s army 
 that was in Bedriacum, resenting this affront, 
 insisted on being led out 'to battle. Accordingly 
 Proculus marched, and pitched his camp at the 
 distance of fifty furlongs from Bedriacum. But 
 be chose his ground in a very unskilful manner ; 
 for, though it was in the spring season, and the 
 country afforded many springs and rivulets, his 
 army was distressed for water. Next day, Pro- 
 culus was for marching against the enemy, who 
 lay not less than loo furlongs off : but Paulinus 
 would not agree to it. He said, they ought to 
 keep the post they had taken, rather than fatigue 
 themselves first, and then immediately engage 
 an enemy, who could arm and put themselves in 
 order of battle at their leisure, while they were 
 making such a march with all the encunibrance 
 of baggage and servants. The generals disputed 
 the point, till a Numidian horseman came with 
 letters from Otho, ordering them to make no 
 longer delay, but proceed to the attack without 
 losing a moment’s time. They then decamped 
 
 * It was debated in council, whether the em- 
 peror should be present in the action, or not. 
 Marius Celsus and Paulinus durst not vote for it, 
 lest they should seem inclined to expose his 
 person. He therefore retired to Brixillum, which 
 was a circumstance that contributed not a little to 
 his ruin. 
 
OTHO, 
 
 i 
 
 719 
 
 of course, and went to seek the enemy. The 
 news of their approach threw Cecina into great 
 confusion ; and immediately quitting his works 
 and post upon the river, he repaired to the camp, 
 where he found most of the soldiers armed, and 
 the word already given by Valens. 
 
 During the time that the infantry were forming, 
 the best of the cavalry were directed to skirmish. 
 At that moment a report was spread, from what 
 cause we cannot tell, amongst Otho's van, that 
 Vitellius’s officers were coming over to their 
 party. As soon, therefore, as they approached, 
 they saluted them in a friendly manner, calling 
 them their fellow soldiers. But instead of re- 
 ceiving the appellation, they answered with a 
 furious and hostile shout. The consequence was, 
 that the persons who made the compliment were 
 dispirited, and the rest suspected them of treason. 
 Tins was the first thing that disconcerted Otho’s 
 troops, for by this time the enemy had charged. 
 Besides, they could preserve no order ; the inter- 
 mixture of the baggage, and the nature of the 
 ground, preventing any regular movement. For 
 the ground w^as so full ot ditches and other in- 
 equalities, that they were forced to break their 
 ranks and wheel about to avoid them, and could 
 only fight in small parties. There were but two 
 legions, one of Vitellius’s called the devourcr^ 
 and one of Otho’s called the succourer. which 
 could disentangle themselves from the defiles and 
 gain the open plain. These engaged in a regular 
 battle, and fought a long time. Otho’s men were 
 vigorous and brave, but they had not seen so 
 much as one action before this ; on the other 
 hand, those of Vitellius had much experience in 
 the field, but they were old, and their strength 
 decaying. 
 
 Otho’s legion coming on with great fury, mowed 
 down the first ranks, and took the eagle. The 
 enemy, filled with shame and resentment, ad- 
 vanced to chastise them, slew Orphidius, who 
 commanded the legion, and took several stand- 
 ards. Amongst the gladiators, who had the 
 reputation of being brave fellows, and excellent 
 at clo^ fighting, Alphenus Varus brought up the 
 Batavians, who come from an island formed by 
 the Rhine, and are the best cavalry in Germany. 
 A few of the gladiators made head against them, 
 but the greatest part fled to the’ river, and falling 
 in with some of the enemy’s infantry that was 
 posted there, were all cut in pieces. But none 
 behaved so ill that day as the praetorian bands. 
 They did not even wait to receive the enemy’s 
 charge, and in their flight they broke through 
 the trwps that as yet stood their ground, and put 
 them in disorder. Nevertheless, many of Otho’s 
 men were irresistible in the quarter where they 
 fought, and opened a way through the victorious 
 enemy to their camp. But Proculus and Paulinus 
 took another way ; for they dreaded the soldiers, 
 who already blamed their generals for the loss 
 of the day. 
 
 Annius Gallus received into the city all the 
 scattered parties, and endeavoured to encourage 
 them by assurances that the advantage upon the 
 whole was equal, and that their troops had the 
 superiority in many parts of the field. But 
 Marius Celsus assembled the princij-al officers, 
 at^ desired them to consider of measures that 
 might save their country. “After such an 
 expense of Roman blood," said he, “ Otho him- 
 self, il he has a patriotic principle, would not 
 
 tempt fortune any more ; .since Cato and Scipio 
 in refusing to submit to Caesar after the battle of 
 Pharsalia, are accused of having unnece.-vsarily 
 sacrificed the lives of so many brave men in 
 Africa, notwithstanding that they fought for the 
 liberties of their country. Fortune, indeed, is 
 capricious, and all men are liable to su. er by 
 her inconstancy : yet good m n have one ad- 
 vantage which she cannot deprive them of, and 
 that is, to avail themselves of their reason in 
 whatever may befall them.’’ These argumenLs 
 prevailed with the officers, and on sounding the 
 private men they found them desirous of peace, 
 'I'itianus himself v/as of opinion that they ought 
 to send ambassadors to treat for a coalition. In 
 pursuance of which, Celsus and Gallus were 
 charged with a commission to Cecina and Valens. 
 As they were upon the road, they met .some 
 centurions, who informed them that Vitellius’s 
 army was advancing to Bedriacum, and that they 
 were sent before by their generals with proposals 
 for an accommodation. Celsus and Gallus com- 
 mended their design, and desired them to go 
 back with them to meet Cecina. 
 
 When they approached that general’s army, 
 Celsus was in great danger ; for the cavalry that 
 were beaten in the affair of the ambuscade, 
 happened to be in the van, and they no sooner 
 saw Celsus, than they advanced with loud shouts 
 against him. The centurions, however, put 
 themselves before him, and the other officers 
 called out to them to do him no violence. Cecina 
 himself, when he was informed of the tumult, 
 rode up and quelled it, and after he had made his 
 compliments to Celsus in a very obliging manner, 
 accompanied him to Bedriacum. 
 
 In the mean time, Titianus repenting that he 
 had sent the ambassadors, placed the most reso- 
 lute of the soldiers again upon the walls, and ex- 
 horted the rest to be assisting. But when Cecina 
 rode up and offered his hand, not a man of them 
 could re.sist him. Some saluted his men from 
 the walls, and others opened the gates ; after 
 which they went out and mixed with the troops 
 that were coming up. Instead of acts of ho.stility, 
 there was nothing but mutual caresses and other 
 demonstrations of friendship ; in consequence of 
 which, they all took the oath to Vitellius, and 
 ranged themselves under his banner. 
 
 This is the account which most of those that 
 were in the battle give of it ; but at the same 
 time they confess that they d:d not know all the 
 particulars, because of the confused manner in 
 which they fought and the inequality of the 
 ground. Long after, when I was passing over 
 the field of battle, Mestrius Florus, a person of 
 consular dignity, showed me an old man, who in 
 his youth had ser\'ed under Otho, with others of 
 the same age with himself, not from inclination 
 but by constraint.* He told me also that on 
 
 * From this passage Dacier would infer, that 
 the Life of Otho was not written by Plutarch. 
 He says, a person who served a young man under 
 Otho, could not be old at the time when Plutarch 
 can be supposed to have visited that field of 
 battle. His argument is this. That battle was 
 fought in the year of Christ 69 : Plutarch re- 
 turned from Italy to Chaeronea about the end 
 of Domitian’s reign, in the year of Christ 93 
 or 94, and never left his native city any more. 
 As this retreat of Plutarch’s was only twenty-four 
 
72-0 PL UTAR CH LIVES, 
 
 visiting the field after the battle, he saw a large 
 pile of dead bodies as high as the head of a man ; 
 and upon inquiring into the reason, he could 
 neither discover it himself, nor get any informa- 
 tion about it. It was no wonder that there was 
 a great carnage in case of a general rout, because 
 in a civil war they make no prisoners ; for such 
 captives would be of no advantage to the con- 
 querors ; but it is difficult to assign a reason why 
 the carcases should be piled up in that manner. 
 
 An uncertain rumour (as it commonly happens) 
 was first brought to Otho, and afterwards some of 
 the wounded came and assured him that the 
 battle was lost. On this occasion it was nothing 
 extraordinary that his friends strove to encourage 
 him and keep him from desponding ; but the 
 attachment of the soldiers to him exceeds all belief. 
 None of them left him, or went over to the enemy, 
 or consulted his own safety, even when their 
 chief despaired of his. On the contrary, they 
 crowded his gates ; they called him emperor ; 
 they left no form of application untried ; they 
 kissed his hands, they fell at his feet, and with 
 groans and tears entreated him not to forsake 
 them, nor give them up to their enemies, but to 
 employ their hearts and hands to the last moment 
 of their lives. They all joined in this request ; 
 and one of the private men, drawing his sword, 
 thus addressed himself to Otho : “ Know, Csesar, 
 what your soldiers are ready to do for you,” and 
 immediately plunged the steel into his heart. 
 
 Otho was not moved at this affecting scene, but, 
 with a cheerful and steady countenance, looking 
 round upon^’the company, spoke as follows : “ This 
 day, my fellow soldiers, I consider as a more 
 happy one than that on which you made me 
 emperor, when I see you thus disposed, and am 
 so great in your opinion. But deprive me not of 
 a still greater happiness, that of laying down my 
 life with honour for so many generous Romans. 
 If I am worthy of the Roman empire, I ought -to 
 shed my blood for my country. I know the victory 
 my adversaries have gained is by no means de- 
 cisive. I have intelligence that my army from 
 
 Mysia is at the distance of but a few days’ march ; 
 Asia, Syria, and Egypt, are pouring their legions 
 upon the Adriatic ; the forces in Judaea declare for 
 us ; the senate is with us ; and the very wives and 
 children of our enemies are so many pledges in our 
 hands. But we are not fighting for Italy with 
 Hannibal, or Pyrrhus, or the Cimbrians ; our dis- 
 pute is with the Romans; and whatever party 
 prevails, whether we conquer or are conquered, 
 our country must suffer. Under the victor’s joy 
 she bleeds. Believe, then, my friends, that I can 
 die with greater glory than reign ; for I know no 
 benefit that Rome can reap from my victory equal 
 to what I shall confer upon her by sacrificing 
 myself for peace and unanimity, and to prevent 
 Italy from beholding such another day as this ! ” 
 
 After he had made this speech, and showed 
 himself immovable to those who attempted to 
 alter his resolution, he desired his friends and 
 such senators as were present, to leave him, and 
 provide for their own safety. To those that were 
 absent he sent the same commands, and signified 
 his pleasure to the cities by letters, that they 
 should receive them honourably, and supply them 
 with good convoys. 
 
 He then called his nephew Cocceius,* who was 
 yet very young, and bade him compose himself, 
 and noX fear Vitellius. “ I have taken the same 
 care,” said he, “ ot his mother, his wife, and 
 children, as if they had been my own. And for 
 the same reason, I mean for your sake, I deferred 
 the adoption which I intended you : for I thought 
 proper to wait the issue of this war, that you 
 might reign with me if I conquered, and not fall 
 with me if I was overcome. The last thing, my 
 son, I have to recommend to you is, neither 
 entirely to forget, nor yet to remember too well, 
 that you had an emperor for your uncle.” 
 
 A moment after he heard a great noise and 
 tumult at his gate. The soldiers seeing the 
 senators retiring, threatened to kill them if they 
 moved a step farther or abandoned the emperor. 
 Otho, in great concern for them, showed himself 
 again at the door, but no longer with a mild and 
 supplicating air ; on the contrary, he cast such a 
 stern and angry look upon the most turbulent 
 part of them, that they withdrew in great fear and 
 confusion. 
 
 In the evening he was thirsty, and drank a little 
 water. Then he had two swords brought him, 
 and having examined the points of both a long 
 time, he sent away the one and put the other 
 under his arm. After this he called his servants, 
 and with many expressions of kindness gave them 
 money. Not that he chose to be lavish of what 
 would soon be another’s; for he gave to some 
 more, and to some less, proportioning his bounty 
 to their merit, and paying a strict regard to pro- 
 priety. 
 
 When he had dismissed them, he dedicated the 
 remainder of the night to repose, and slept so 
 sound that his chamberlains heard him_ at the 
 door. Early in the morning he called his freed- 
 man, who assisted him in the care of the senators, 
 and ordered him to make the proper inquiries 
 about them. The answer he brought was, that 
 they were gone, and had been provided with every- 
 thing they desired. Upon which he said, “ Go 
 you, then, and show yourself to the soldiers, that 
 they may not imagine you have assisted me in 
 
 or twenty-five years after the battle of Bedria- 
 cum, he concludes that a person who fought in 
 that battle, a young man, could not possibly be 
 old when Plutarch made the tour of Italy ; and 
 therefore conjectures that this, as well as the Life 
 of Galba, must have been written by a son of 
 Plutarch. 
 
 But we think no argument, in a matter of such 
 importance, ought to be adduced from a passage 
 manifestly corrupt. For instead of ovra TraXaiov, 
 we must either read kva ovra iraXaiov, or vov de 
 TraXaiov €va, to make either Greek or sense of it. 
 
 Lamprias, in the catalogue, ascribes these two 
 lives to his father. Nor do we see such a dis- 
 similarity to Plutarch’s other writings, either in 
 the style or manner, as warrants us to conclude 
 that they are not of his hand. 
 
 _ Henry Stevens did not, indeed, take them into 
 his edition, because he found them among the 
 opuscula’, and, as some of the opuscula were 
 supposed to be spurious, he believed too hastily 
 that these were of the number. 
 
 We think the loss of Plutarch’s other lives of 
 the emperors a real loss to the world, and should 
 have been gHd if they had come down to us, even 
 in the same imperfect condition, as to the text, as 
 those of Galba and Otho. 
 
 ^ Tacitus and Suetonius call him Cocceianus, 
 
OTHO. 
 
 despatching myself, and put you to some cruel 
 death for it. 
 
 freedman was gone out, he fixed 
 the hilt of his sword upon the ground, and holding 
 It with both hands, fell upon it with so much force, 
 that he expired with one groan. The servants 
 who waited without heard the groan, and burst 
 into a loud lamentation, which was echoed through 
 the camp and the city. The soldiers ran to the 
 gates with the most pitiable wailings and most 
 unfeigned gnef, reproaching themselves for not 
 guarding their emperor, and preventing his dying 
 for them. Not one of them would leave him to 
 provide for himself though the enemy was ao- 
 proachmg. They attired the body in a magnifi- 
 cent manner, and prepared a funeral pile ; after 
 which they attended the procession in their ar- 
 mour, and happy was the man that could come 
 to support his bier. Some kneeled and kissed his 
 wound, some grasped his hand, and others pros- 
 trated themselves on the ground, and adored him 
 at a distance. Nay, there were some who threw 
 their torches upon the pile, and then slew them- 
 selves. Not that they had received any extra- 
 ordmary favours from the deceased, or were afraid 
 of suffermg under the hands of the conqueror : 
 but It seems that no king or tyrant was ever so pas- 
 sionately fond of governing as they were of being 
 governed by Otho. Nor did their affection cease 
 with his death ; it survived the grave, and termi- 
 nated in the hatred and destruction of Vitellius. 
 Of that we shall give an account in its proper 
 place. 
 
 After they had interred the remains of Otho, 
 
 721 
 
 they erected a monument over them, which 
 neither by its size nor by any pomp of epitaph 
 least envy. I have seen it at 
 i^nxillum ; it was very modest, and the inscrip- 
 tion only thus: to the memory of marcus 
 OTHO. 
 
 Otho died at the age of thirty-seven, having 
 reigned only three months. Those who find fault 
 with ms life are not more respectable, either for 
 their numbers or for their rank, than those who 
 applaud his death : for, though his Ufe was not 
 much better than that of Nero, yet his death was 
 nobler. 
 
 The soldiers were extremely incensed against 
 Tolho, one of the principal officers of the guards, 
 
 I or persuading them to take the oath immediately 
 to Vitellius ; and being informed, that there were 
 still some senators on the spot, they let the others 
 pass but solicited Virginius Rufus in a very 
 troublesorne manner. They went in arms to his 
 house, and msisted that he should take the im- 
 perial title, or at least be their mediator with the 
 conqueror But he who had refused to accept 
 that title from them when they were victorious, 
 thought It would be the greatest madness to 
 embrace it after they were beaten. And he was 
 airaid of applying to the Germans in their behalf, 
 t^cause he had obliged that people to do many 
 thmgs contrary to their inclinations. He there- 
 tore went out privately at another door. When 
 the soldiers found that he had left them, they 
 took the oath to Vitellius, and having obtained 
 of Cec-^af°”* enrolled amongst the troops 
 

 ¥ 
 
 
 h 
 
 
 
AN 
 
 ACCOUxNT OF WEIGHTS, MEASURES, 
 
 AND 
 
 DENOMINATIONS OF MONEY, 
 
 MENTIONED BY PLUTARCH. 
 
 From the Tables of Doctor Arhuthnot. 
 
 WEIGHTS. 
 
 The Roman libra or pouna ... 
 
 The Attic mina or pound 
 
 The Attic talent, equal to 6o minae ... ... 
 
 Ib. 01 p-irt. gr. 
 
 o lo i8 i3f 
 
 o II 7 i6f 
 
 56 II o ijl 
 
 DRY MEASURES OF CAPACITY. 
 
 The Roman modius ... 
 
 The Attic chcenix, one pint, 15,705!^ solid inches ... 
 
 The Attic medininus ... 
 
 peck. giL pints. 
 
 ... I o o|- 
 
 ... o o li nearly 
 
 ... 4 o 6^5 
 
 The cotyle 
 The cj’^athus 
 The chus 
 
 LIQUID MEASURES OF CAPACITY. 
 
 {ints. solid incires. 
 i 2,141^ 
 3561 I 
 
 6 25,698 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 j 
 
 MEASURES OF LENGTH. 
 
 The Roman foot ... 
 
 The Roman cubit 
 The Roman pace 
 The Roman furlong ... 
 
 The Roman mile 
 The Grecian cubit 
 The Grecian furlong 
 The Grecian mile 
 
 N.B. In this computation, the English pace is five feet. 
 
 In’, paces, ft. in. 
 ... O O II§ 
 
 O I 5f 
 
 ... o 4 10 
 
 120 4 4 
 
 ... 967 o o 
 
 o I 6| 
 
 ... 100 4 4I 
 
 805 5 o 
 
 i 
 
 ! 
 
 MONEY. 
 
 
 
 £ 
 
 a. 
 
 d. 
 
 q. 
 
 The quadrans, about 
 
 
 0 
 
 0 
 
 0 
 
 
 The as ... 
 
 
 0 
 
 0 
 
 0 
 
 Oily } 
 
 The sestertius 
 
 
 0 
 
 0 
 
 I 
 
 3 t 
 
 The sestertium, equal to 1000 sestertii 
 
 
 8 
 
 I 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 The denarius 
 
 ... 
 
 0 
 
 0 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 
 The Attic obolus 
 
 
 0 
 
 0 
 
 I 
 
 
 The drachma 
 
 
 0 
 
 0 
 
 7 
 
 
 The mina, equal to 100 drachmae ... 
 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 7 
 
 0 
 
 The talent, equal to 60 minae 
 
 
 193 
 
 15 
 
 0 
 
 0 
 
 The stater-aureus of the Greeks, weighing two Attic drachms 
 
 
 0 
 
 16 
 
 I 
 
 3 
 
 The stater-daricus ... 
 
 
 I 
 
 12 
 
 3 
 
 0 
 
 The Roman aureus was of different value at different periods. According 
 to the proportion mentioned by Tacitus, when it exchanged for 25 
 denarii, it was of the same value as the Grecian stater 
 
 0 
 
 16 
 
 I 
 
 3 
 
 7-3 
 
A CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. 
 
 FROM DACIER AND OTHER WRITERS. 
 
 Years 
 of tlie 
 world 
 
 Years before 
 the first 
 Olympiad 
 
 2437 
 
 2547 
 
 2698 
 
 2720 
 
 2768 
 
 2847 
 
 2880 
 
 ' 2894 
 2908 
 
 3045 
 
 3198 
 
 3201 
 
 3235 
 
 3236 
 
 3279 
 
 3350 
 
 3350 
 
 3354 
 
 3356 
 
 737 
 
 627 
 
 486 
 
 454 
 
 406 
 
 327 
 
 294 
 
 288 
 
 266 
 
 129 
 
 Olympiads 
 
 I. 
 
 Vll. I. 
 
 vii. 4. 
 
 XVI. 3. 
 
 xxvii, 2. 
 
 xlv. I. 
 xlvi. I. 
 
 xlvi. 3. 
 
 Deucalion’s deluge ...... 
 
 Minos I. son of Jupiter 
 and Europa. 
 
 Minos II. grandson of 
 the first. 
 
 Theseus. 
 
 The expedition of the 
 Argonauts. Theseus 
 attended Jason in it. 
 
 Troy taken. Demo- 
 phoon the son of The- 
 seus was at the siege. 
 
 The return of the Hera- 
 clidone to Pelopon- 
 nesus. 
 
 The first war of the 
 Athenians against 
 Sparta. 
 
 Codrus devotes himself. 
 
 The Helots subdued by 
 Agis. _ 
 
 The Ionic migration ... 
 
 Lycurgus flourishes 
 
 The First Olymj)iad. 
 Romulus. 
 
 Rome built 
 
 The rape of the Sabine 
 virgins. 
 
 The death of Romulus . 
 Numa. 
 
 Numa elected king 
 
 Numa dies 
 
 Solon. 
 
 Solon flourishes 
 
 Cylon’s conspiracy 
 
 Epimenides goes to 
 Athens, and expiates 
 the city. He dies 
 
 soon after at the age 
 of 154. The seven 
 wise men : ^Esop and 
 Anacharsis flourish. 
 
 Solon Archon 
 
 Croesus, king of Lydia. 
 
 bund- 
 ing of 
 Eome 
 
 Years 
 
 before 
 
 Christ 
 
 473 
 
 430 
 
 351 
 
 318 
 
 304 
 
 290 
 
 153 
 
 25 
 
 Years 
 
 of 
 
 Rome 
 
 4 
 
 38 
 
 159 
 
 1511 
 
 1401 
 
 1250 
 
 1228 
 
 T180 
 
 IIOl 
 
 1068 
 
 1055 
 
 1040 
 
 904 
 
 592 
 
 Year^ 
 of the 
 world 
 
 3370 
 
 3391 
 
 3401 
 
 3444 
 
 3448 
 
 3459 
 
 3461 
 
 3462 
 
 3463 
 
 3467 
 
 3470 
 
 3471 
 
 3474 
 
 3479 
 
 1. I. 
 
 Iv. 2. 
 Ivii. 4. 
 
 Ixviii. ; 
 
 Ixviii. 3, 
 
 Ixix. 3. 
 Ixxii. I. 
 
 Ixxii. 2. 
 
 Ixxiii. I, 
 Ixxiii. 2, 
 
 Ixxiv. 2. 
 
 Ixxv. I. 
 Ixxv. 2. 
 Ixxvi. I. 
 Ixxvii. 2. 
 
 Pythagoras goes into 
 Italy. 
 
 Pisistratus sets up his 
 tyranny. 
 
 Cyrus, king of Persia ... 
 Croesus taken 
 
 PUBLICOLA 
 
 Is chosen consul in the 
 room of Collatinus. 
 
 Brutus fights Aruns, the 
 eldest son of Tarquin. 
 Both are killed. 
 
 Publicola consul the 
 third time. His col- 
 league Horatius Pul- 
 villus dedicates the 
 temple of Jupiter Ca- 
 pitolinus. 
 
 Horatius Codes defends 
 the Sublician bridge 
 against the Tuscans. 
 
 Publicola dies 
 
 Zeno Eleates flourished 
 
 The battle of Marathon 
 
 CORIOLANUS 
 
 Is banished and retires 
 to the Volsci. 
 
 Herodotus is born 
 
 Coriolanus besieges 
 Rome : but being pre- 
 vailed upon by his 
 mother to retire, is 
 stoned to death by 
 the Volsci. 
 
 Aristides 
 
 Is banished for ten years, 
 but recalled at the ex- 
 piration of three. 
 
 Themistocles. 
 
 The battle of Salamis ... 
 
 The battle of Platsea ... 
 
 Thucydides is born 
 
 Themistocles is banished 
 by the Ostracism. 
 
 3 Years 
 before 
 e Christ 
 
 578 
 
 245 
 
 247 
 
 557 
 
 547 
 
 506 
 
 504 
 
 251 
 
 262 
 
 263 
 
 265 
 
 266 
 
 500 
 
 499 
 
 489 
 
 486 
 
 485 
 
 481 
 
 478 
 
 477 
 
 474 
 
 469 
 
A CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. 
 
 Tears 
 
 Tears 
 
 Tears 
 
 1 
 
 
 Yen? 
 
 of 
 
 before 
 
 of the 
 
 1 
 
 0 
 
 
 of 
 
 Bone 
 
 Cbzirt 
 
 world 
 
 
 Borne 
 
 
 
 
 
 Agesilaus 
 
 
 283 
 
 468 
 
 3553 
 
 xcv. 4. 
 
 Ascends the Spartan 
 
 356 
 
 
 
 
 throne. 
 
 284 
 
 467 
 
 3554 
 
 j xcvi. I. 
 
 Lysander sent to the 
 
 357 
 
 
 
 
 Hellespont. 
 
 303 
 
 448 
 
 3555 
 
 xcvi. 2. 
 
 Agesilaus defeats the 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Persian cavalry. Ly- 
 sander dies. 
 
 
 
 
 3561 
 
 xcvii. 4. 
 
 The Romans lose the 
 
 364 
 
 
 
 
 
 battle of Allia, 
 
 — 
 
 440 
 
 
 
 Camillus 
 
 
 
 
 3562 
 
 356b 
 
 3569 
 
 xcviii. I. 
 
 Retires to Ardea 
 
 3^5 
 
 369 
 
 372 
 
 
 
 xcix, I, 
 
 Aristotle bom 
 
 322 
 
 429 
 
 xcix. 4. 
 
 Demosthenes bom 
 
 3574 
 
 ci. I. 
 
 Chabrias defeats the 
 
 377 
 
 
 
 
 1 .. 
 
 Lacedaemonians. 
 
 324 
 
 427 
 
 3579 
 
 cii. 2. 
 
 Peace between the 
 Athenians and Lace- 
 daemonians. 
 
 The important battle of 
 Leuctra. 
 
 382 
 
 
 
 325 
 
 426 
 
 
 
 Pelopidas, 
 
 
 
 
 3580 
 
 cii. 3. 
 
 General of the Thebans. 
 
 383 
 
 
 
 
 
 He headed the sacred 
 
 338 
 
 
 
 
 band the year before 
 at Leuctra, w'here 
 Epamincndas com- 
 
 
 413 
 
 13582 
 
 ciii- I. 
 
 manded in chief. 
 Dionysius the elder, 
 
 385 
 
 
 340 
 
 411 
 
 
 
 tyrant of Sicily, dies, 
 and is succeded by 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 his son. 
 
 
 
 
 '3584 
 
 ciii. 3. 
 
 Isocrates flourishes 
 
 3S7 
 
 
 
 
 
 Ti.moleon 
 
 
 342 
 
 409 
 
 3585 
 
 ciii. 4. 
 
 Kills his brother Timo- 
 
 388 , 
 
 
 phanes, who w’as set- 
 
 
 4071 
 
 406 I 
 
 
 
 ting himself up tyrant 
 
 
 - 
 
 3586 
 
 civ. I. 
 
 in Corinth. 
 
 Pelopidas defeats Alex- 
 
 
 
 348 
 
 403 
 
 
 
 ander the tyrant of 
 Pheras, but falls in 
 the battle. 
 
 
 3587 
 
 civ. 2, 
 
 The famous battle of 
 
 390 ; 
 
 
 
 
 
 Mantinea, in which 
 Epauninondais, though 
 
 
 — 
 
 401 
 
 
 
 victorious, is lulled by 
 the son of Xenophon. 
 
 
 349 
 
 
 3588 
 
 civ. 3. 
 
 Camillus dies 
 
 391 : 
 
 392 : 
 
 402 
 
 3589 
 
 civ. 4. 
 
 Artaxerxes dies. So 
 
 
 
 
 
 does Agesilaus. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Diom 
 
 
 352 
 
 399 
 
 3593 
 
 cv. 4. 
 
 Expels Dionysius the 
 
 396 : 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 younger. 
 
 
 
 
 3594. 
 
 cvi. I. 
 
 Alexander the Great 
 
 397 : 
 
 
 
 ! 
 
 
 bom. 
 
 
 398 
 
 3596, 
 
 cvi 3. 
 
 Dion is killed by Calip- 
 
 399 : 
 
 353 
 
 
 
 pus. 
 
 3480 Ixxvii. 3. 
 
 3481 Lxxvii. 4. 
 3500 Ixxxii. 3. 
 
 3519 
 
 3521 
 
 3522 
 
 3535 
 
 3537 
 
 3538 
 
 3539 
 
 3545 
 
 Lxxxvii. 
 
 boocvTi. 
 
 IxxxviiL 
 
 XCl. 2, 
 
 xci. 4. 
 
 xcu:. 4. 
 
 3546! xciv. 1. 
 
 3549 xciv. 4. 
 
 3550 xcv. I. 
 
 CiMON 
 
 Beats the Persians both 
 at sea and land. 
 
 Socrates is bom. He 
 lived 71 years. 
 
 Cimon dies. Alcibiades 
 bom the same year, 
 Herodotus and Thu- 
 cydides flourish ; the 
 latter is 12 or 13 years 
 younger than the for- 
 mer. 
 
 Pindar dies, 80 years old 
 Pericles 
 
 Stirs up the Peloponne- 
 sian war, which lasts 
 27 years. He was 
 very young w'hen the 
 Romans sent the De- 
 cemviri to Athens for 
 Solon’s laws. 
 
 Pericles dies 
 
 Plato bom . 
 
 Xerxes killed by Arta- 
 banus. 
 
 Nicias. 
 
 The Athenians under- 
 take the Sicilian war. 
 
 Nicias beaten and put 
 to death in Sicily. 
 
 Alcibiades 
 
 Takes refuge at Sparta, 
 and afterwards 
 
 amongst the Persians. 
 
 Dionysius the elder, now 
 tyrant of Sicily. 
 
 Sophocles dies, aged 91 
 
 Euripides dies, aged 75 
 
 Lysander 
 
 Puts an end to the Pelo- 
 ponnesian war, and 
 establishes the thirty 
 tjT-ants at Athens. 
 
 Thrasybulus expels 
 them. 
 
 Alcibiades put to death 
 by order of Phama- 
 bazus. 
 
 Artaxerxes Mnemon 
 
 Overthrows his brother 
 C>*ras in a great battle. 
 The retreat of the 
 10,000 Greeks, con- 
 ducted by Xenophon. 
 
 Socrates dies 
 
 387 
 
 386 
 
 382 
 
 379 
 
 374 
 
 369 
 
 368 
 
 366 
 
 364 
 
 363 
 
 361 
 
726 
 
 
 PLUTARCH’S 
 
 LIVES. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Years 
 
 Tears 
 
 
 
 Years 
 
 Years 
 
 
 Olympiads 
 
 
 of 
 
 before 
 
 of t -.0 
 
 Olympiads 
 
 
 of 
 
 before 
 
 ■world 
 
 
 Rome 
 
 Christ 
 
 world 
 
 
 
 Rome 
 
 Christ 
 
 
 
 Demosthenes 
 
 
 
 
 
 In the year before Christ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 288, died Theophras- 
 
 
 
 359S 
 
 cvii. I. 
 
 Begins to thunder against 
 
 401 
 
 350 
 
 
 
 tus, aged 85. 
 
 
 
 Philip. 
 
 
 
 And in the year before 
 
 
 
 
 
 Xenophon dies, aged 90. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Christ 285, Theocritus 
 
 
 
 3602 
 
 cvili. I. 
 
 Plato dies, aged 80 or 81 
 
 405 
 
 346 
 
 
 
 flourished. 
 
 
 
 3605 
 
 CVlll. 4. 
 
 Timoleon sent to assist 
 
 408 
 
 343 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 the Syracusans. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 3607 
 
 3609 
 
 3612 
 
 3613 
 
 cix. 2. 
 
 cix. 4. 
 cx. 3. 
 
 cx. 4. 
 
 Dionysius the younger 
 sent off to Corinth. 
 
 Epicurus born 
 
 The battle of Charonea, 
 in which Philip beats 
 the Athenians and 
 Thebans. 
 
 410 
 
 412 
 
 415 
 
 416 
 
 341 
 
 339 
 
 336 
 
 335 
 
 3670 
 
 3685 
 
 C.XXV. I. 
 
 cxxviii. 
 
 4-. 
 
 Pyrrhus, 
 
 King of Epirus, passes 
 over into Italy, where 
 he is defeated by 
 Lsevinus. 
 
 The first Punic war, 
 which lasted 24 yeai's. 
 
 Philopoemen born 
 
 473 
 
 488 
 
 272 
 
 263 
 
 Alexan der the Great 
 
 3696 
 
 cxxxi. 3. 
 
 499 
 
 252 
 
 
 
 
 
 Aratus, 
 
 
 
 
 
 3614 
 
 cxi. I. 
 
 Is declared general of 
 all Greece against the 
 
 417 
 
 334 
 
 3699 
 
 cxxxii. I. 
 
 Of Sicyon, delivered his 
 
 502 
 
 249 
 
 
 
 Persians, upon the 
 death of his father 
 
 
 
 
 
 native city from the 
 tyrajiny of Nicocles. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Philip. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 30.16 
 
 cxi. 3. 
 
 The battle of the Grani- 
 
 419 
 
 332 
 
 
 
 Agis and Cleomenes, 
 
 
 
 
 cus. 
 
 
 
 
 
 3619 
 
 cxii. 2. 
 
 The battle of Arbela ... 
 
 422 
 
 329 
 
 3723 
 
 cxxxviii. 
 
 Conte nporaries with 
 
 526 
 
 225 
 
 3623 
 
 cxiii. 2, 
 
 Porus beaten 
 
 426 
 
 325 
 
 2. 
 
 atus, for Aratus 
 
 
 1 3627 
 
 cxiv. I. 
 
 Alexander dies, aged 33 
 Diogenes dies, aged go. 
 
 430 
 
 321 
 
 
 
 being beaten by C eo- 
 menes, calls in Anti- 
 
 
 
 
 
 Aristotle dies, aged 63... 
 Phocion 
 
 
 319 
 
 
 
 gonus from Mace- 
 donia, which proves 
 the ruin of Greece. 
 
 
 
 3632 
 
 cxv. 3. 
 
 Retires to Polyperchon, 
 
 435 
 
 316 
 
 
 
 Philopcemen 
 
 
 
 but is delivered up by 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 him to the Athenians, 
 
 
 
 3727 
 
 cxxxi.x. 
 
 Thirty years old when 
 
 530 
 
 221 
 
 
 
 who put him to death. 
 
 
 
 2. 
 
 Cleomenes took Me- 
 
 
 
 
 Eumenes, 
 
 
 
 
 
 galopolis. About th'S 
 time lived Hannibal, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Marcellus, Fabms 
 
 
 
 3634 
 
 cxvi. I. 
 
 Who had attained to 
 
 437 
 
 3 M 
 
 
 
 Maximus, and Scipio 
 
 
 
 
 a considerable rank 
 
 
 
 Africanus. 
 
 
 
 
 
 amongst the succes- 
 
 
 
 373^ 
 
 cxi. 2. 
 
 The second Punic war. 
 
 534 
 
 217 
 
 
 
 sors of Alexander the 
 
 
 
 
 which lasted 18 years. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Great, is betrayed to 
 
 
 
 3733 
 
 cxi. 4. 
 
 Hannibal beats the con- 
 
 536 
 
 215 
 
 
 
 Antigonus, and put to 
 death. 
 
 
 
 
 sul Flaminius at the 
 Thrasymenean lake ; 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 3734 
 
 cxli. I. 
 
 And the consuls Varro 
 
 537 
 
 214 
 
 
 
 Demetrius, 
 
 
 
 
 and .iEmilius at 
 
 Cannse. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 3736 
 
 cxli. 3. 
 
 He is beaten by Mar- 
 
 539 
 
 212 
 
 3636 
 
 cxvi. 4. 
 
 Sumamed Poliorcetes, 
 
 439 
 
 312 
 
 
 cellus at Nola. 
 
 
 
 permitted by his father 
 
 
 
 3738 
 
 cxiii. I. 
 
 Marcellus takes Syra- 
 
 541 
 
 210 
 
 
 
 Antigonus to com- 
 
 
 
 
 cuse. 
 
 
 
 
 mand the army in 
 
 
 
 3741 
 
 cxiii. 4. 
 
 Fabius Maximus seizes 
 
 544 
 
 207 
 
 
 
 Syria, when only 22 
 
 446 
 
 
 
 Tarentum. 
 
 
 3643 
 
 cxviii. 2. 
 
 years of age. He re- 
 
 305 
 
 3747 
 
 cxliv. 2. 
 
 Fabius Maximus dies ... 
 
 550 
 
 201 
 
 
 
 stores the Athenians 
 to their liberty, but 
 they choose to remain 
 in the worst of chains. 
 
 
 
 3749 
 
 cxliv. 4. 
 
 Scipio triumphs for his 
 conquests in Africa. 
 
 552 
 
 199 
 
 
 
 those of servility and 
 
 
 
 
 
 Titus Quinctius 
 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 meanness. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Flaminius 
 
 
 
 
 
 Dionysius, the tyrant, 
 dies at Heraclea, aged 
 
 
 
 3752 
 
 cxlv. 3. 
 
 Elected consul at the 
 
 555 
 
 196 
 
 
 
 55- 
 
 
 
 
 
 age of 30. 
 
 
 
A CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. 
 
 of the OljmpiJidi 
 world 
 
 3754 cxlvi. I, 
 
 3755 cxlvi. 2. 
 
 3766 cxlix. I. 
 
 3767 cxlix. 2. 
 
 3782 cliii. I. 
 
 3790 civ. I. 
 3794 clvi. I. 
 3801 civil. 4. 
 
 3804 clviii. 3. 
 
 3827 clxiv. 2. 
 
 3843 clxviii. 2. 
 
 3844 clxviii. 3. 
 3846: clxix. X. 
 
 3850^ clxxi. 2. 
 3855 clxxi. 2. 
 
 727 
 
 Cato the Censor 
 
 Was 21 or 22 years old 
 when Fabius Maxi- 
 mus took Tarcntum. 
 See above 
 
 Year* 
 
 of 
 
 Home 
 
 Year* 
 be ore 
 
 Cutlrt 
 
 All Greece restored to 
 her liberty, by T. Q. 
 Flaminius. 
 
 Flaminius triumphs ; 
 
 Demetrius, the son 
 of Philip, and Nabis, 
 tyrant of Lacedemon, 
 follow his chariot. 
 
 557 
 
 194' 
 
 Cato triumphs for his 
 conquests in Spain. 
 
 558 
 
 193 
 
 Scipio Afncanus dies ... 
 
 569 
 
 182 
 
 Philopoernen dies 
 
 The same year 
 
 Paulus ^Emilius, 
 
 Then first consul, was 
 beaten by Hannibal 
 at Cannae. 
 
 570 
 
 181 
 
 When consul the second 
 time, he conquered 
 Persius, and brought 
 him in chains to 
 Rome. 
 
 Now 1 erence flouri.shed. 
 
 585 
 
 166 
 
 Paulus iEmilius dies .. 
 
 593 
 
 158 
 
 Marius born 
 
 597 
 
 154 
 
 The third Punic war, 
 which continued four 
 years. 
 
 Cato the Censor dies. 
 
 604 
 
 147 
 
 Scipio iEmilianus de- 
 stroys Carthage ; and 
 Mummius s-a_ks and 
 bums Corinth, 
 
 607 
 
 144 
 
 Carneades dies, aged 85 
 
 — 
 
 129 
 
 Polybius dies, aged 81.. 
 
 Tiberius and Caius 
 Gracchus. 
 
 
 123 
 
 TTie laws of Caius Grac- 
 chus. 
 
 Marius 
 
 630 
 
 121 
 
 Marches against Ju- 
 gurtha. 
 
 Cicero bora. 
 
 646 
 
 X05 
 
 Pompey born 
 
 647 
 
 104 
 
 Marius, now consul the 
 second time, marches 
 against the Cimbri, 
 
 649 
 
 X02 
 
 Julius Csesar is bora in 
 the sixth consukship 
 of Marius. 
 
 653 
 
 98 
 
 Lucretius born 
 
 Sylla, 
 
 
 94 
 
 After ^ his prsetorship, 
 sent into Cappadocia. 
 
 658 
 
 93 
 
 Year* 
 of the 
 world 
 
 3862 
 
 3863 
 
 3867 
 
 3S68 
 
 3869 
 
 3870 
 
 3871 
 
 OljmiAzda 
 
 clxxiii. 1. 
 clxxlli. 2. 
 
 clxxiv. 2. 
 clxxiv. 3. 
 
 clxxiv. 4 
 
 clxxv. 1. 
 
 clxxv. 2. 
 
 3874 
 
 clxxvL I 
 
 3877 clxxvi. 4. 
 
 Malces himself master of 
 Rome. 
 
 Takes Athens 
 
 Marius dies the same 
 year. 
 
 Sertorius 
 
 Sent Into Spain 
 
 The younger Marius 
 beaten by Sylla ; yet 
 soon after he defeats 
 Pontius Telesinus at 
 the gates of Rome. 
 Sylla enters the city, 
 and being created 
 dictator, exercises all 
 manner of cruelties. 
 
 Crassus 
 
 Enriches himself with 
 buying the estates of 
 persons proscribed. 
 
 POMPEY, 
 
 At the age of 25, is sent 
 into Airica against Do- 
 mitius, and beats him. 
 
 Cato of Utica 
 
 Was younger than Pom- 
 I>ey ; lor he was but 
 14 years old when 
 Sylla's proscriptions 
 were in their utmost 
 rage. 
 
 Cicero 
 
 Defends Roscius against 
 the practices of by 11a. 
 This was his first 
 public pleading. After 
 this he retires to 
 Athens to finish his 
 studies. 
 
 Sylla, after having de- 
 stroyed above 100,000 
 Roman citizens, pro- 
 scribed 90 senators, 
 and 2600 knights, re- 
 signs hLs dictatorship, 
 and dies the year fol- 
 lowing. 
 
 Pompey manages the 
 war in Spain against 
 Sertorius. 
 
 Lucullus, 
 
 After his consulship, is 
 sent against Mithri- 
 dat^s. 
 
 Tear* Years 
 before 
 
 Home 
 
 665 I 86 
 
 666 
 
 670 
 
 671 
 
 85 
 
 672 
 
 673 
 
 674 
 
 677 
 
 680 
 
 77 
 
 74 
 
728 PLUTARCH 
 
 Tears 
 of the 
 world 
 
 Olympiads 
 
 
 Tears Tears 
 of [before 
 Rome Christ 
 
 3879 
 
 clxxvii. 
 
 2. 
 
 Sertoirlus assassinated In 
 Spain. Crassus con- 
 sul with Pompey. 
 
 682 
 
 69 
 
 3881 
 
 clxxvii. 
 
 4 - 
 
 Tigranes conquered by 
 Lucullus. 
 
 684 
 
 67 
 
 38S7 
 
 clxxix. 2. 
 
 Mithridates dies. Pom- 
 pey forces the temple 
 of Jerusalem. 
 Augustus Csesar born. 
 
 Julius Caesar 
 
 690 
 
 61 
 
 3891 
 
 clxxx. 2. 
 
 Appointed consul with 
 Bibulus, obtains Illy- 
 ria, and the two 
 Gauls, with four le- 
 gions. He marries 
 his daughter Julia to 
 Pompey. 
 
 694 
 
 57 
 
 3897 
 
 clxxxi. 4. 
 
 Crassus is taken by the 
 Parthians and slain. 
 
 700 
 
 SI 
 
 3902 
 
 clxxxiii. 
 
 I. 
 
 Caesar defeats Pompey 
 at Pharsalia. 
 
 Pompey flies into Egypt, 
 and is assassinated 
 there. 
 
 705 
 
 46 
 
 3903 
 
 clxxxiii. 
 
 2. 
 
 Caesar makes himself 
 master of Alexandria, 
 and subdues Egypt ; 
 after which he marches 
 into Syria, and soon 
 reduces Pharnaces. 
 
 706 
 
 45 
 
 3904 
 
 clxxxiii. 
 
 3 - 
 
 He conquers Juba, Sci- 
 pio, and Petreius, in 
 Africa, and leads up 
 four triumphs. Pre- 
 vious to which, Cato 
 kills himself. 
 
 707 
 
 44 
 
 3905 
 
 clxxxiii. 
 
 4 - 
 
 Caesar defeats the sons 
 of Pompey at Munda. 
 Cneius falls in the 
 action, and Sextus flies 
 into Sicily. Caesar 
 triumphs the fifth 
 time. 
 
 Brutus. 
 
 708 
 
 43 
 
 3906 
 
 clxxxiv. 
 
 I. 
 
 Cssar is killed by Bru- 
 tus and Cassius. 
 
 709 
 
 42 
 
 3907 
 
 clxxxiv. 
 
 2. 
 
 Brutus passes into Mace- 
 donia. 
 
 Mark Antony 
 
 Beaten the same year 
 by Augustus at Mo- 
 
 710 
 
 41 
 
 ’S LIVES. 
 
 Tears 
 
 
 
 Tears 
 
 Tears 
 
 of the 
 
 Olympiads 
 
 
 of 
 
 before 
 
 world 
 
 
 Rome 
 
 Cbrist 
 
 
 
 dena. He retires to 
 
 
 
 
 
 Lepidus. The trium- 
 virate of Augustus, 
 Lepidus, and Antony, 
 who divide the empire 
 
 
 
 
 
 amongst them. 
 
 
 
 3908 
 
 clxxxiv. 
 
 The battle of Philippi, 
 
 711 
 
 40 
 
 3. 
 
 in which Brutus and 
 
 
 
 
 Cassius being over- 
 thrown by Augustus 
 
 
 
 
 
 and Antony, lay vio- 
 lent hands on them- 
 
 
 
 
 
 selves. 
 
 
 
 3909 
 
 clxxxiv. 
 
 Antony leagues with 
 
 712 
 
 39 
 
 4 - 
 
 Sextus the son of 
 Pompey against Au- 
 gustus. 
 
 Augustus and Antony 
 
 
 
 
 3910 
 
 clxxxv. 
 
 713 
 
 38 
 
 I. 
 
 renew their friendship 
 after the death of 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Fulvia, and Antony 
 marries Octavia. 
 
 
 
 3918 
 
 clxxxvii. 
 
 Augustus and Antony 
 
 721 
 
 3'^ 
 
 1 .. 
 
 again embroiled. 
 
 
 
 3919 
 
 clxxxvii. 
 
 The battle of Actium. 
 
 722 
 
 29 
 
 3- 
 
 Antony is beaten, and 
 flies into Egypt with 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Cleopatra. 
 
 
 28 
 
 3920 
 
 clxxxvii. 
 
 Augustus makes him- 
 
 723 
 
 4* 
 
 self master of Alex- 
 andria. Antony and 
 Cleopatra destroy 
 
 themselves. 
 
 
 Era 
 of the 
 liicar- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Galba 
 
 
 tioa 
 
 3947 
 
 3981 
 
 cxciv. 2. 
 ccii. 4. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Otho born 
 
 750 
 
 784 
 
 
 Galba appointed consul 
 
 34 
 
 3982 
 
 cciii. I. 
 
 The revolt of Vindex ... 
 
 785 
 
 35 
 
 4018 
 
 ccxi. 4. 
 
 Nero killed 
 
 820 
 
 70 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 Galba declared emperor 
 
 
 
 
 
 Otho 
 
 
 
 4019 
 
 ccxii. I. 
 
 Revolts, and persuades 
 
 821 
 
 71 
 
 
 the soldiers to de- 
 
 
 
 
 
 spatch Galba^ ; upon 
 which he is pro- 
 claimed emperor ; and 
 three months after, 
 being defeated by 
 
 
 
 
 
 Vitellius, despatches 
 himself. 
 
 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A. 
 
 Acheans, their noble method of testifying their 
 gratitude to the Romans, 269, 
 
 Adonis, feast of, 149. 
 
 Adultery unknown at Sparta, 37. 
 
 .^diles, office of, its nature, 289. 
 
 iEmilian Family, its antiquity, 243. 
 
 iEmilius Paulus is made sedile, 187 ; his discipline, 
 
 188 ; subdues Spain, ib. ; and the Ligurians, 
 
 189 ; is appointed to conduct the war against 
 Perseus, 190 ; whom he defeats, 194 ; his 
 disinterestedness, 198 ; his death, and public 
 funeral, 230. 
 
 iEsop meets Solon at the court of Croesus, 71. 
 
 Agesilaus declared king of Sparta, by the in- 
 fluence of Lysander, 41 1 appointed to com- 
 mand the Lacedemonian expedition into 
 Asia, 412 ; from which he is recalled, 415 ; to 
 conduct the expedition against the Thebans, 
 whom he defeats, 424 ; but is subsequently 
 defeated by them, 425 ; they attack Lace- 
 deraon itself, but retire without taking it, 
 426 ; his treachery towards Tachos, king of 
 Egypt, ib. ; his death, ib. 
 
 Agis, his general character, 547 ; his efforts to 
 reform his country, 548, 549 ; commands the 
 Spartan army, 550 ; is seized by Leonidas, 
 imprisoned, 551 ; and murdered, together 
 with his mother and grandmother, 552. 
 
 Agriculture, advantages of, 53, 54. 
 
 Alban Lake, prophecy respecting, 99. 
 
 Albinus, piety of, 105. 
 
 Alcander assaults Lycurgus, 34 ; is won upon by 
 the kindness of Lycurgus, 35. 
 
 Alcibiades contracts a friendship with Socrates, 
 143 ; his kindness to a stranger, ib. ; gains the 
 prizes at the Olympic games, 145 ; stratagem 
 of, 146 ; his dissoluteness and extravagance, 
 147 ; is accused of impiety, 149 ; returns to 
 Athens, where he is joyfully received, 155 ; 
 his death, 158. 
 
 Alexander the Great receives the Persian ambas- 
 sadors, when a youth, in the absence of his 
 father, 460 ; his courage, ib ; quarrels with 
 his father, 462 ; whom he soon succeeds, ib. ; 
 he takes Thebes, 463 ; his noble conduct to 
 Timoclea, ib. ; defeats the Persians, 464 ; his 
 illness, 466 ; defeats Darius, ib. ; his honour- 
 able conduct to the mother, wife, and 
 
 daughter, of Darius, 467-471 his tem- 
 perance, 467 ; defeats Darius a second time, 
 473 ; orders funeral honours to be paid to the 
 body of Darius, 477 ; marries Roxana, 478 ; 
 puts his old counsellor, Parmenio, to death, 
 479 ; kills Clitus, 480 ; conquers Porus, 483 ; 
 curious conference with the Gymnosophists, 
 484, 485 ; marries Statira, the daughter of 
 Darius, 486 ; his death, 488 ; and character, 
 ib. 
 
 Ammonius, preceptor to Plutarch,- anecdote of, 
 xviii. 
 
 Amulius dispossesses Numitor of the kingdom of 
 Alba, 14 ; orders the destruction of his 
 nephews, ib. 
 
 Anarchy, the precursor of tyranny, 689. 
 
 Anaxagoras, his praise, 115 ; is accused, and flies 
 from Athens, 126, 127 ; first taught the 
 Athenians how the moon becomes eclipsed, 
 372. 
 
 Ancilia, bucklers, why so called, 52. 
 
 Andromachus betrays Crassus, 388. • 
 
 Antigonus, 284 ; his death, 616. 
 
 Antiochus marries Stratonice, 619. 
 
 Antony, his generosity, 625, 626 ; his humane 
 conduct to Archelaus, 625 ; connects himself 
 with the fortunes of Csesar, 627 ; to whom he 
 carries assistance, ib. ; his vicious conduct, 
 627 ; pronounces the funeral oration over 
 Caesar’s body, 628 ; unites with Octavius 
 Caesar and Lepidus, ib. ; his brutal exulta- 
 tion over Cicero, 629 ; defeats Cassius, ib. ; 
 his luxury, 631 ; connects himself with Cleo- 
 patra, ib. ; is defeated by the Parthians, 636 ; 
 and after severe losses withdraws from their 
 country, 638 ; treats his wife Octavia with great 
 neglect, ib. ; his difference with Caesar, 639 ; 
 gives himself up entirely to Cleopatra, ib. ; 
 his forces, 640; engages with Caesar’s fleet, 
 641 ; and is defeated, 642 ; his army goes 
 over to Caesar, 643 ; he returns to Cleopatra, 
 ib. ; they both offer to submit to Caesar, who 
 rejects their proposal, 644 ; he stabs himself, 
 645 ; is buried by Cleopatra, 646. 
 
 Aquilii conspire with the Vitellii to reinstate 
 Tarquin, 75 ; and are discovered and punished, 
 75 , 76. 
 
 Aratus takes Corinth by^ stratagem, 691 ; raises 
 the Acheans to dignity and power, 692 ; is 
 deserted by the Acheans, 701 ; his various 
 fortune, 702 ; his death, 706. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 730 
 
 Archidamia, heroic conduct of, 284.^ 
 
 Archimedes, his skill in mechanics, 221 ; he 
 defends Syracuse, ib. ; is killed, 223. 
 
 Archon, office of, 67. 
 
 Areopagus, council of, instituted, 67. 
 
 Ariadne instructs Theseus to pass through the 
 Labyrinth, 5. 
 
 Ariamnes, an artful Arabian chief, deceives 
 Crassus, 383-385. 
 
 Aristides opposes Themistocles, 85 ; is banished, 
 233 ; recalled, ib. ; why called “the just,” 
 ib. ; his sense of justice, 240 ; his voluntary 
 poverty, 241 ; death, 242. 
 
 Arlstion, his vices and profligacies, 322. 
 
 Aristotle the philosopher, preceptor to Alexander, 
 461. 
 
 Artaxerxes succeeds his father, 680 ; becomes 
 popular, ib. ; his brother Cyrus revolts, 681 ; 
 whom he engages, 682 ; and defeats, ib. ; 
 loses his wife Statira, by poison, administered 
 by Parysatis, whom he banishes to Babylon, 
 685 : his weakness and vice, 686 ; conspiracy 
 of his eldest son and several nobles, 688. 
 
 Arts, the fine, unknown at Rome before the 
 capture Oi Syracuse by Marcellus, 223. 
 
 Aruns, the son of Tarquin, killed by Brutus, 76. 
 
 As, Roman coin, value of, 102. 
 
 Aspasia, her talents, 123 ; captivates Pericles, 
 ib. ; accused and acquitted through the in- 
 fluence of Pericles, 126, 
 
 Ateius opposes the departure of Crassus from 
 Rome, 381. 
 
 Athens, settlement of, by Theseus, 7 ; rebuilt by 
 Themistocles, 92 ; adorned by Pericles, 118 ; 
 forsaken by its inhabitants, 122 ; taken by 
 Lysander, 310 ; and by Sylla, after suffering 
 famine and distress, 321. 
 
 B. 
 
 Bandius, his- bravery, 218 ; espouses the cause of 
 Hannibal, 219 ; from which he is detached by 
 the kindness of Marcellus, ib. 
 
 Barathrum, a place of punishment, 231. 
 
 Barley, the substitution of, for wheat, a punish- 
 ment, 226. 
 
 Bastards excused by the laws of Solon from 
 relieving their fathers, 68 ; who were deemed 
 such at Athens, 84 ; laws of Pericles con- 
 cerning, 128. 
 
 Bastanise, a people of Gaul, 190. 
 
 Bessus seizes the person of Darius, 477 ; his 
 punishment by Alexander for his perfidy, ib. 
 
 Boat, punishment of the, its dreadful nature, 
 684. 
 
 Bona Dea, ceremonies observed at her festival, 
 492. 
 
 Brennus, king of the Gauls, 103 ; defeats the 
 Romans, 104 ; takes Rome, T05. 
 
 Broth, a favourite dish among the Lacede- 
 monians, 35, 
 
 Brutus, the first Roman consul, 74 ; engages 
 Aruns, and is killed, 76 ; condemns his own 
 sons to death, 664. 
 
 Brutus, Marcus, kills Theodotus, the author of 
 Pompey's death, 456; accompanies Cato to 
 Cyprus, 664 ; joins Pompey’s party against 
 Csesar, ib. ; is reconciled to Caesar, 665 ; but, 
 offended at Caesar’s usurpation, he joins 
 Cassius in conspiring his death, 666 ; assas- 
 
 sinates Caesar, 667 ; his dream, 673 ; is 
 defeated at Philippi, ib. ; his death, 678. 
 Bucephalus, the horse, its value and properties, 
 460 ; its death, 483. 
 
 Bull, Marathonian, taken by Theseus, 4. 
 
 Burials, regulations concerning, by Lycurgus, 42. 
 
 C. 
 
 Cabiri, mysteries of, 347. 
 
 Caesar leaves Rome through fear of Sylla, and is 
 taken by the pirates, 489 ; from whom he 
 obtains his freedom by ransom, ib. ; his 
 eloquence, 490 ; the tendency of his conduct 
 to tyranny foretold by Cicero, ib. ; is elected 
 pontiff, 491 ; suspected of supporting Catiliiie’s 
 conspiracy, ib. ; occasion of his divorcing 
 Poinpeia, 492 ; reconciles Pompey and Cras- 
 sus, 493 ; with whom he unites, ib. ; and by 
 their interest is appointed consul, ib. ; his 
 success as a general, 494 ; affection of his 
 soldiers, ib. ; various traits of his character, 
 ib. ; defeats the Germans, 495 ; and the 
 Nervii, 496 ; his expedition into Britain, 497 ; 
 defeats the Gauls, ib. ; beginning of his 
 dissensions with Pompey, 499 ; passes the 
 Rubicon on his way to Rome, 500 ; which he 
 enters, 501 ; his heroic conduct during a 
 storm at sea, 502 ; defeats Pompey at the 
 battle of Pharsalia, 504 ; puts Achillas and 
 Photinus, the assassins of Pompey, to death, 
 505 ; h s connection with Cleopatra, ib. ; his 
 sententious mode of announcing a victory, 
 506; defeats Juba king of Numidia, ib. ; is 
 elected consul a fourth time. 507 ; and as- 
 sumes absolute power at Rome, 508 ; corrects 
 the errors of the calendar, ib. ; is assassinated 
 in the senate house, 510 ; his character, 511. 
 
 Calendar reformed by Numa, 54. 
 
 Callias, his treachery, 233. 
 
 Callisthenes becomes disagreeable to the court of 
 Alexander, 480 ; his death, 481. 
 
 Camillus, fortitude of, 100 ; various regulations of, 
 ib. ; takes the city of Veii, ib. ; honourable 
 conduct of, towards the city of Falerii, loi ; 
 exiles himself from Rome, T02 ; delivers 
 Rome from Brennus, 106 ; defeats the Volsci, 
 no ; made military tribune a sixth time, ixi ; 
 appointed dictator the fifth time, 113 ; defeats 
 the Gauls a second time, ib.^ 
 
 Candidates to appear ungirt and in loose garments, 
 162, 163. 
 
 Cannss, battle of, 136. 
 
 Capitol, how saved from Brennus, m. ^ 
 
 Cassander, Alexander’s treatment of him, 488. 
 
 Cassius joins Brutus in assassinating Csesar, 510 : 
 unites in opposing Antony and Octavius, 
 629 ; is killed at the battle of Philippi, 675. 
 
 Catiline’s conspiracj^ 531 is detected by Cicero, 
 594 ; his punishment and overthrow, ib. 
 
 Cato the Censor, his manner of life, 243 ; his 
 ungenerous sentiments as to the bonds be- 
 tween man and man, 245 ; his temperance, 
 
 246 ; conducts the war in Spain prosperously, 
 
 247 ; is honoured with a triumph, ib. ; his 
 vainglory, 248 ; domestic management, 249 ; se- 
 verity against luxury, 250 ; his enmity to 
 philosophy and physicians, 252 ; marries a 
 young woman, 253 ; his opposition to Car- 
 thage, ib. ; his death, 254. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 731 
 
 Cato the Younger, his general character, 524, 525 ; 
 his early promise of future honour, 525 ; his 
 affection for his brother, ib. ; first attempt at 
 oratory, 526; his mode of life, ib. ; his influ- 
 ence on the army, 527 ; his mannerof travelling, 
 528 ; is greatl)^ honoured by Pompey, ib. ; as 
 quaistor he reforms many abuses, 529 ; like- 
 wise as tribune also, 531 ; his family trials, 
 532 ; opposes Metellus, ib. ; refuses the 
 alliance of Pompey, 533 ; opposes Caesar and 
 Pompey, 534; his scrupulous and just con- 
 duct in reference to the treasures taken at 
 Cyprus, 538 ; remonstrates with Pompey, 
 539 ; whom he afterwards supports, 540 ; is 
 refused the consulship, ib. ; joins the forces 
 of Pompey, ib. ; at whose death he goes into 
 Africa, 541; his conduct at Utica, 544; his 
 heroic death by suicide, 546 ; is deeply 
 lamented at Utica, ib. 
 
 Celeres, etymology of, 25. 
 
 Celibacy, deemed disgraceful at Sparta, 61. 
 
 Censors, authority of, 98 ; their duties, 158. 
 
 Ceremonies, religious, why so called, 52. 
 
 Cethegus detected by Cicero, as one of the accom- 
 plices of Catiline, 531. 
 
 Chabrias initiates Phocion in the art of war, 514. 
 
 Chance and fortune, difference of, 185. 
 
 Chariot with fine white horses, sacred to the Gods, 
 100. 
 
 Charon^ the Theban unites with Pelopidas to 
 deliver his country from tyranny, 205 ; his 
 intrepidity, 206. 
 
 Chelonis, daughter of Leonidas, 551 ; her vir- 
 tuous attachment to her husband in his 
 misfortunes, ib. 
 
 Cheronea, a town of Boeotia, the birth-place 
 of Plutarch, xvii. ; character of its inhabit-' 
 ants, ib. 
 
 Children, deformed and weakly ones put to death 
 at Sparta, 37; propagation of children the 
 only end of marriage among the Spartans, ib. 
 
 Cicero, his early promise of future greatness, 
 590 ; undertakes the defence of Roscius 
 against Sylla, ib. ; receives the commenda- 
 tion of Apollonius for his oratory, 591 ; 
 prosecutes Verres, 592 ; his integrity as a 
 judge, ib. ; detects Catiline’s conspiracy, 594 ; 
 and is invested with absolute power, ib. ; 
 punishes the conspirators, 596 ; he first per- 
 ceives Caesar’s aim at arbitrary power, 597 ; 
 but refuses to take any part in the war be- 
 tween him and Pompey, 602 ; divorces his 
 wife Terentia, 603 ; takes part with Octavius 
 Caesar, 604 ; by whom he is abandoned, 605 ; 
 his aspssination, ib. ; his commendation by 
 Octavius Caesar, ib. 
 
 Cimbri, whence they came, 291 ; their character, 
 292 ; are de eated by Marius, 297 ; defeat 
 Catulus, the Roman consul, 392. 
 
 Cimon is accused and banished by Pericles, 340 ; 
 his general character, 341 ; liherality’ ib.\ 
 defeats the Persians by land and sea in one 
 day, ib. ; his death, ib. 
 
 Cineas, his prudent advice and useless remon- 
 strance with Pyrrhus, 278. 
 
 Cinna seeks Pompey’s life, and is put to death, 
 
 Cissusa, the fountain of, the bathing-place of 
 ! Bacchus, 315. 
 
 j Claudius, Appius, his patriotic and noble advice 
 I to the Romans, 280. 
 
 ! Cleomenes marries Agiatis, widow of Agis, 552 ; 
 
 kills all the Ephori, 554 ; excuses himself, 
 ib. ; his general conduct, 556 ; defeats the 
 Achaeans, ib. ; but becomes unsuccessful in 
 turn, 557 ; death of his wife, 559 ; is defeated 
 by the Achaeans at the battle of Sellasia, 
 561 ; seeks protection from Ptolemy, king of 
 Egypt? 562 ; is betrayed, and makes his 
 escape, 563 ; is pursued, and kills himself, 
 
 564- 
 
 Cleon, the rival of Nicias, 365. 
 
 Cleopatra, her blandishments, 505, &c. ; her 
 magnificence, 505 ; her wit and learning, ib. ; 
 her influence over Antony, 632 ; their total 
 ruin, 644 ; her interview with Caesar, 646 ; 
 her death, 647 ; and burial, ib. 
 
 Clitus, the friend of Alexander, put to death by 
 the king, when intoxicated, 480. 
 
 Clodius, his infamous character, 599 ; is killed by 
 Milo, 601. 
 
 Clodius, Publius, exhorts the troops of Lucullus 
 to mutiny, 356. 
 
 Cloeha, anecdote of, 81. 
 
 Codes, Horatius, saves Rome by his valour, 80. 
 
 Collatinus, one of the first consuls, 74 ; is sus- 
 pected and banished from Rome, ib. 
 
 Comparison of Romulus with Theseus, 27 ; 
 Numa with Lycurgus, 57 ; Solon with Pub- 
 licola, 82 Pericles with Fabius Maximus, 
 141 ; Alcibiades with Coriolanus, 172 ; Timo- 
 leon with yEmilius, 202 ; Pelopidas with 
 Marcellus, 229 ; Aristides with Cato, 254 ; 
 Flaminius with Philopoemen, 272 ; Lysander 
 with Sylla, 332 ; Cimon with Lucullus, 360 ; 
 Nicias with Crassus, 390 ; Sertorius with 
 Eumenes, 410 ; Agesilaus with Pompe}’, 457 ; 
 Agis and Cleomenes with Tiberius and Caius 
 Gracchus, 578 ; Demosthenes and Cicero, 
 606 ; Demetrius and Antony, 648 ; Dion with 
 Brutus, 678. 
 
 Concord, temple of, occasion of its being built, 
 
 ^13- 
 
 Consuls, Brutus and Collatinus the first, 74 ; Lucius 
 Sextus the first plebeian consul, 77. 
 
 Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, her magna- 
 nimity, 565. 
 
 Crassus, his general character, 375 ; becomes 
 the possessor of great part of Rome, ib. ; 
 leaves Rome in consequence of Marius’s 
 cruelties, ^ 376 ; is protected by Vibius, ib. ; 
 unites with Pompey and Caesar, 377 ; his 
 ambition, 381 ; is grievously defeated by 
 Surena, 385 ; betrayed by Andromachus, 
 388 , and treacherously slain, 389. 
 
 Cratesiclea, her heroic and patriotic conduct, 
 564 ; death, ib. 
 
 Croesus, Solon’s interview with, 71. 
 
 Curio, his profligacy, 448. 
 
 Curtian Lake, why so called, 21. 
 
 Cyrus, tomb of, 486 ; inscription on, ib. 
 
 Cyrus, brother of Artaxerxes, revolts against him, 
 and is slain in battle, 682. 
 
 D. 
 
 Damon, banishment of, 364. 
 
 Dance, sacred, 48. 
 
 Darius, defeated by Alexander, 466, 473; his 
 death, 477. 
 
 Days, distinction of, into lucky and unlucky, 
 considered, 104. 
 
732 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Dead, speaking ill of, forbidden, 68 ; their burial 
 a duty, 169. 
 
 Debtors and creditors at Athens appeal to Solon, 
 67. 
 
 Delphi, 9, et passim. 
 
 Demades, the orator, his character, 520. 
 
 Demagogue, Menestheus the first, ii. _ 
 
 Demetrius, his ostentation, 608 ; his general 
 character, ib. ; sails to Athens, and liberates 
 the citizens, 609 ; their adulation, ib . ; his 
 vices, 61 1 ; defeats Ptolemy, ib. ; his hu- 
 manity, 612 ; his pride, ib . ; is grievously 
 defeated, 616 ; forsaken by the Athenians, 
 ib. ; marries his daughter to Seleucus, 617 ; 
 retakes Athens, ib. ; and treacherously slays 
 Alexander, 618 ; takes Thebes, 619 his 
 pomp, 620 ; is forsaken by the Macedonians, 
 621 ; and his other troops, ib. ; surrenders 
 himself to Seleucus, 623 ; his death and 
 funeral, 623, 624. 
 
 Democles, his virtue and chastity, 614. 
 
 Demosthenes is left an orphan at seven years of 
 age, 580 ; is fired by the example of Callis- 
 tratus to become an orator, ib, \ calls his 
 guardians to account, 581 ; studies oratory, 
 ib. ; overcomes, by diligence, the disadvan- 
 tages of nature, 582 ; opposes Philip, 583 ; 
 but fails to act honourably in battle, 584 ; 
 death of Philip, 586 ; his contest _ with 
 iEschines concerning the crown, 587 ; is cor- 
 rupted by Harpalus, ib. ; is punished for his 
 misconduct, ib. ; and becomes an exile, zb. ; 
 is recalled, 588 ; poisons himself, 589 ; inscrip- 
 tion on his pedestal, ib. 
 
 Dictator, by whom named, 226 ; etymology of 
 the title, ib. 
 
 Diogenes the philosopher, his reply to Alexander, 
 463. 
 
 Dion, the disciple of Plato, 649 ; is calumniated 
 to the king, 650 ; and falls under his dis- 
 pleasure, 652 ; is banished, and retires to 
 Athens, ib. ; undertakes the liberation of 
 Sicily, 654 ; and succeeds, 656 ; meets with a 
 great want of confidence in the Syracusans, 
 657 ; who drive him to Leontium, 659 ; the 
 return of Dionysius and his severe slaughter 
 of the Syracusans induce them to solicit 
 Dion’s return, ib . ; he defeats the troops of 
 Dionysius, C60 ; his magnanim'ity, 661 ; is 
 opposed by Heraclides and his party, ib. ; a 
 conspiracy being formed against him by one 
 Callippus, he is murdered, 663. 
 
 Dionysius the tyrant, after ten years’ exile, 
 returns to Syracuse, and restores his affairs, 
 174 ; is conquered by Timoleon, 176 ; retires 
 to Corinth, 178 ; where, through poverty, he 
 opens a school, ib. ; his education, ib. ; his 
 conduct to Plato, ib. 
 
 Divorce, law of, 23. 
 
 Dolopes, or pirates, expelled by Cimon from 
 Scyros, 336. 
 
 Draco, severity of the laws of, 66 ; repealed by 
 Solon, ib. 
 
 E. 
 
 Earthquake at Athens, 366 
 
 Eclipse of the moon, variously regarded as a good 
 or bad omen, 372. 
 
 Elysian fields, where situated, 395. 
 
 Envy, malicious stratagems of, 93. 
 
 Epaminondas, his friendship for Pelopidas, 204 ; 
 commands the Theban army, which defeats 
 Cleombrotus, king of Sparta, 213 ; attacks 
 Lacedaemon, 423 ; his death, 424. 
 
 Ephesus prospers under Lysander, 306. 
 
 Ephori, their office, 32. 
 
 Epimenides contracts friendship with Solon, 64 ; 
 instructs the Athenians, ib. 
 
 Eumenes, his birth, 402 ; is made secretary to 
 Alexander, ib. ; kills Neoptolemus in single 
 combat, 404 ; is besieged by Antigonus in 
 Nora, 406 ; receives succours from the Mace- 
 donians, 407 ; is betrayed by his own troops 
 to Antigonus, 409 ; by whose order he is 
 murdered, 410. 
 
 F. 
 
 Fabii, family of the, why so called, 130. 
 
 Fabius Maximus, created dictator, 131 ; his 
 prudent manner of conducting the war, 132 ; 
 the last hope of the Romans after their 
 dreadful defeat at Cannae, ib. ; his mild con- 
 duct towards one who had endeavoured to 
 seduce his army, 133 ; recovers Tarentum by 
 stratagem, 138 ; his death, 141. 
 
 Fable of the body and its members, 160. 
 
 Fabricius, his probity and magnanimity, 281 ; and 
 honour, ib. 
 
 Faith, swearing by, the greatest of oaths, 53. 
 
 Faierii, city of, taken by Camillus, loi ; anecdote 
 of a schoolmaster of, ib. 
 
 Fame, how far to be regarded, 148. 
 
 Famine in the army of Mithridates, 342. 
 
 Fear worshipped as a deity, 472. 
 
 Feciales, duty of, 51. 
 
 Feretrius, a surname of Jupiter, whence derived, 
 218. 
 
 Fire, sacred, introduced by Romulus, 23 ; ever- 
 living, ib..\ an emblem of purity, 50. 
 
 Flaminius, the consul, his rashness and death, 
 131. 
 
 Flaminius, Lucius, his cruelty, 270. 
 
 Flaminius, Titus Quinctius, his general character, 
 264 ; defeats Philip, 266 ; with whom he con- 
 cludes a peace, 267 ; restores liberty ^ to 
 Greece, ib. ; is appointed censor, 270 ; im- 
 properly interferes on behalf of his brother, 
 ib. 
 
 Flute, playing on, objected to by Alcibiades, 143. 
 
 Fortunate Isles, now the Canaries, supposed to be 
 the Elysian fields, 394. 
 
 Fortune and Chance, difference of, 185 ; mutability 
 of^ ib. 
 
 Fortune of Women, temple of, occasion of its 
 erection, 171. 
 
 Friendship of Theseus and PIrithous, origin of, 
 10 ; of Epaminondas and Pelopidas, 204. 
 
 Fulvius, the friend of Caius Gracchus, 574. 
 
 G. 
 
 Galba, the richest private man that ever rose to 
 the imperial dignity, 707 ; is solicited to take 
 the command of the Gauls, ib . ; is nominated 
 by the senate and the army, 708 ; is influenced 
 by the counsels of Vinius, ib . ; gives himself 
 up to be governed by corrupt ministers, 71 1 ; 
 adopts Piso as his son, 713 ; but the soldiers 
 revolting, they are both slain, 714 ; his 
 character, ib. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 ’ Gauls, origin of the, 103 ; take Rome, 106. 
 
 Genii, existence of, believed by Plutarch 26 ; 
 their oflficcs, 649. 
 
 Gordian knot, account of, 465. 
 
 Gracchus, Tiberius, his ch^acter, and that of his 
 brother, compared, 565 ; his good fame, ib . ; 
 concludes a peace with the Numantians, 566 ; 
 as tribune he proposes the agrarian law, 567 ; 
 which after much opposition is passed, 568 ; 
 and followed by great commotions, 569 ; 
 during a violent tumult Gracchus is slain, 
 ; he is greatly lamented by the people, 
 
 1 Gracchus, Caius, his early eloquence, 572 ; goes 
 out as quaestor to Sardinia, ib . ; his popularity 
 and the consequent jealousy of the senate, 
 ib. ; several laws proposed by him, 573 ; is 
 opposed by the senate and nobles, ib. ; and 
 ultimately killed, 577. 
 
 Graxxhi, their disinterestedness, 578. 
 
 Gratitude, instance of, 171 ; in the Acheans 
 towards Flaminius, 269. 
 
 Gylippus, embezzles the money sent by Lysander 
 to Lacedaemon, 310. 
 
 Gymnosophists, or Indian Philosophers, their 
 conference with Alexander, 4S4, 485. 
 
 H. 
 
 Hair, cutting it off a token of mourning, 305. 
 Hannibal defeats Minucius, 135 ; and the consuls 
 riEmiiius and Varro at Cannae, 136 ; en- 
 deavours to entrap Fabius, 138 ; kills himself, 
 in Eithynia, 271. 
 
 Helen, rape of, 10. 
 
 Helotes, cruel treatment of, at Sparta, 30. 
 j Hephaestion, is attached to Alexander, 402 ; his 
 ' death, 4^7 ; is lamented by Alexander, Ib. 
 j Hind, the favourite one of Sertorius, 395. 
 
 ; Hipparete, wife of Alcibiades, 145. 
 i Hipponicus, conduct of Alcibiades towards, 144, 
 Homer, his writings made generally known to 
 Lycurgus, 31. 
 
 : I* 
 
 i Icetes, is opposed by Timoleon, seized and con- 
 j , denmed, 176 ; his wife and daughter are 
 I executed, 184. 
 
 Ichneumon, description of the, 476. 
 j Idleness punished by the laws of Solon, 68. 
 j Iliad, Homeri s, vadued Aristotle, 469. 
 
 I Interreges, Roman magistrates, their duty, 45, 
 i Iren, office and duties of, 38. 
 
 Iron Money, introduced by Lycurgus into Sparta, 
 34 - 
 
 J- 
 
 Janus, temple of, shut in peace, open in war, 55. 
 Jealousy of the Persians, 95. 
 
 Jugunha betrayed by has father-in-law into the 
 hands of Sylla, 291 ; is led in triumph by 
 Marius, 292 ; his WTetched end, ib. 
 
 Juno, statue of, converses with Camillus, 100. 
 
 L. 
 
 T . amia the courtesan, 61 1 ; various anecdotes of, 
 615. 
 
 733 
 
 I Lamprias, grandfather of Plutarch, charaaer of, 
 
 I X 
 
 I Laurentia, the nurse of Romulus, 14. 
 
 I Lavinium, the depository of the gods, besieged, 
 
 ' T - 
 
 Law's of Lycurgus, not to be written, 35. 
 
 Lawsuits unknown at Laceckemon, 41. 
 
 Leucothea, rites of the goddess, 99, 
 
 Leuctra, battle of, fatal to the Lacedaemonian 
 ■ _ suprenmcy in Greece, 210. 
 
 Licinia, wife of Caius Gracchus, begs him to 
 avoid the public dissension, 576. 
 
 Life, love of, not reprehensible, 201 ; not to be ' 
 needlessly exposed by the general, 203. | 
 
 Lucanian Lake, its peculiar nature, 379. 
 
 Lucullus, his general character, 342 ; is enter- 
 tained by Ptolemy, king of Egypt, 343 ; 
 permits Mithridates to escape, ib. ; whom he | 
 after^'ardsmost signally defeats, 347 ; provi- | 
 dentially escai>es assassination, 348 ; gains an : 
 imp>ortant victory over Xigranes, 351 j bis 
 troops mutiny, 352 ; for w’ant of attachment 
 to his person, ib. ; he obtains the honour of a 
 toumph, 358 ; his domestic trials, ib. ; his 
 luxury, pomp, and magnificence, ; his 
 patronage of literature, 359 ; his death, 360. 1 
 
 Lupercalia, feast of, 23. 
 
 Luxury, laws of Lycurgus against it, 33. 
 
 Lycurgus, uncertainty of the history of, 29; ' 
 saves the life of his nephew, 30 ; collects the 
 writings of Homer, 31 ; consults the Delphi^ 
 Oracle about altering the law's of Sparta, 32 ; 
 
 1^ new laws, 33, ei seq.; exacts an oath for 
 their observance, 43 ; starves himself at 
 Delphi, ib. ; and is deified at Sparta, 44, 
 
 Lysander makes Ephesus a naval depot, 306 ; de- 
 feats the Athenians at sea, 308 ; his subtlety, 
 311 ; disregards the sanction of an oath, 312 ; 
 gains a decisive victory over the Athenmns’ 
 315 ; his treachery and want of faith, ib. ; is 
 killed by the Thebans, at the siege of Hali- 
 artus, ib. ; his probity, ib. ; and general 
 depravity, ib. 
 
 M. 
 
 Macedonia (x»nquered by the Romans, 198. 
 
 ^Mamercrus defeated by Timoleon, 185 ; endeavours 
 to destroy himself, ib . ; but faihng so to do, is 
 ^en and punish^ as a thief and robber, *ib. 
 
 Manipuli, origin of the term, 15, 
 
 Manlius, why sumamed Capitolinus, iii ; is 
 condemned to death, ib. 
 
 Marcellus, his general character, 216 ; defeats 
 Viridomarus, king of the Gesatae, whom he 
 slays in battle, 218 ; his triumph, 218, seq . ; 
 attacks and takes Syracuse, 220 ; is accused 
 of cnnelty and oppression by the S>Tacusans, 
 ^d honoi^bly acquitted by the senate, 225 ; 
 is killed in reconnoitring Hannibal’s c^amp, 
 
 Marcius Coriolanus, his early love for every kind 
 of combat, 159; takes Corioh, 160; his dis- 
 interestedness 161 ; obtains the name of 
 O)riolanus, ib . ; is refused the consulship, 
 163 ; accused by the tribunes, 164 ; con- 
 demned by them to death, and rescued by 
 the patr icians , ib . ; is banished, 165 ; and 
 goes over to the Volscians, 166 ; ravages the 
 Roman territory, 168, etseq . ; rejects repeated 
 entreaties and embassies, 169 ; but is, at last. 
 
734 
 
 INDEX, 
 
 won upon by the prayers of his mother and 
 wile, 170 ; is murdered by the Volscians, 171 ; 
 and mourned for by the Romans, 172. 
 
 Mardonius, the Persian general, sends ambas- 
 sadors to Athens, to detach them from the 
 cause of Greece, by promises of future peace 
 and power, 234. 
 
 : Marius, his obscure birth, 288 ; is appointed 
 consul, 290 ; and afterwards a second, third, 
 and fourth time, 291 ; defeats the Ciinbri, 
 293 ; quarrels with Sylla, 300 ; by whoni he 
 is driven from Rome, ib. ; he is taken, but 
 set at liberty, 301 ; joins Cinna, and marches 
 to Rome, 303 ; massacres the citizens, ib. ; 
 terrilied at the approach of Sylla, he becomes 
 sick, and dies, 304. 
 
 Marriage, regulations of, at Sparta, 36 ; laws of 
 Solon concerning, 67. 
 
 Martha, a prophetess, attends Marius, 293. 
 
 I Matronalia, feast of, 23. 
 i Menestheus, the first demagogue, ti. 
 
 I Meton, the Tarentine, dissuades his countrymen 
 from war with the Romans, and alliance with 
 Pyrrhus, 278. 
 
 Metellus refuses to take an oath required by the 
 agrarian law, and leaves Rome, 298 ; is 
 recalled, 299. 
 
 Minotaur killed by Theseus, 5. 
 
 Minucius upbraids Fabius, 132 ; his rash conduct, 
 ib. ; is invested with power equal to that ot 
 Fabius, 133 : engaging with Hannibal, is 
 rescued by Fabius from defeat and disgrace, 
 134 ; noble conduct of, towards Fabius, 135. 
 
 ; Misfortunes, effect of, on the minds of men, 137. 
 
 Mithridates, defeated by Sylla, 321 ; routed by 
 Lucullus, 348 ; sends Bacchides to see his 
 wives and sisters put to death, 349 ; his death, 
 441 - 
 
 Modesty, the praise of, 58. 
 
 Money, of gold and silver, first introduced at 
 Sparta, by Lysander, 305. 
 j Moon, eclipses of, unknown to the Athenians, 
 372 - 
 
 Mountains, their greatest height, as known to the 
 Romans, 192. 
 
 Mourning, regulations of Numa concerning, 51. 
 
 Mucianus, heroic conduct of, 716. 
 
 Music cultivated at Sparta, 39 ; united with 
 valour, 40 ; used before battle, ib. 
 
 N. 
 
 Names, the three in use among the Romans, 288. 
 
 Nearchus, the philosopher, his doctrines, 244. 
 
 Neutrality, in times of danger, infamous, 67. 
 
 Nicagoras, duplicity and treachery of, 563. 
 
 Nicias, his regulations respecting Delos, 363; 
 his veneration for the gods, ib. ; opposes 
 Alcibiades, 366 ; opposes the proposed expedi- 
 tion to Sicily, of which he is appointed 
 , commander, 368; his timidity, 372; is de- 
 feated by the Syracusans, 374 ; by whom he 
 is taken prisoner, and stoned to death, ib. 
 
 Nichomachus, the painter, anecdote of, 185. 
 
 Numa, character of, 45 ; is solicited to become 
 king of Rome, 47 ; affects a veneration for 
 religion, 48 ; reforms the calendar, 54 ; dies, 
 56 ; and is honoured by the neighbouring 
 nations, as well as his own people, 57 ; is 
 compared with Lycurgus, ib. 
 
 Numitor dispossessed of his kipgdorn by his 
 brother Amulius, 14 ; recognises his grand- 
 children, Romulus and Remus, 15. 
 
 Nurses, Spartan preferred, 37. 
 
 Nymphaeum, account of, 327. 
 
 O. 
 
 Oath, the great, its nature, 663. 
 
 Olthacus fails in his attempt to assassinate 
 Lucullus, 348. 
 
 Omens regarded by Alexander, 463, et passim, 
 
 Opime spoils, why so called, 218. 
 
 Opimius, the consul, opposes Caius Gracchus, 
 575 ; his corruption and disgrace, 577. 
 
 Oplacus, his valour, 279. 
 
 Orchomenus, plain of, both large and beautiful, 
 208. 
 
 Orodes sends ambassadors to Crassus, 382. 
 
 Oromasdes, the author of all good, 471. 
 
 Oschophoria, feast of, 7. 
 
 Ostracism, its nature, 146; object, ?^. 
 
 Otho commences his reign with mildness, and in 
 a manner calculated to conciliate the affec- 
 tions of his new subjects, 715 ; is opposed by 
 Vitellius, 716 ; by whom he is defeated, 717 ; 
 and kills himself, 720; is lamented by his 
 troops, ib. 
 
 Ovation, the lesser triumph, the nature of it, 225. 
 
 P. 
 
 Panathensea, feast of, 8. 
 
 Panteus, interesting account of the death of his 
 wife, 564. 
 
 Parmenio, the friend and counsellor of Alexander, 
 479 ; put to death, ib. 
 
 Parsley, wreaths of, considered sacred, 182. 
 
 Parthenon, built by Pericles, 119. _ 
 
 Parthians, their mode of commencing an action, 
 385. 
 
 Parysatis, mother of Artaxerxes, her cruelties, 
 684 ; is banished to Babylon, 685 ; is recalled, 
 687. 
 
 Patricians, etymology of the word, 18. 
 
 Fatrons and clients, 18. 
 
 Pausanias kills Cleonice, 336 ; his haughty con- 
 duct, 462. 
 
 Pelopidas, his birth and early virtues, 203 ; his 
 friendship for Epaminondas, 204 ; encourages 
 the exiled Thebans to regain their liberties, 
 205 ; defeats the Spartans, 208 ; is seized by 
 the tyrant Alexander, 212 ; and recovered 
 by Epaminondas, 213 ; undertakes a success- 
 ful embassy to the king of Persia, ib. ; is 
 killed in a battle against Alexander the 
 tyrant, 214 ; is honoured and lamented by 
 the Thessalians, ib. 
 
 Pericles, his parentage, 114 ; conduct, iiS ; 
 eloquence, 116 ; banishes Cimon, 118 ; his 
 prudence, ib. ; military conduct, 122 ; falls 
 into disgrace, 127 ; is recalled, 128 ; his praise, 
 
 Perpenna conspires against Sertorius, whom he 
 murders, 401 and is himself taken and put 
 to death by Pompey, 432. 
 
 Perseus, king of Macedonia, defeats the Romans, 
 190 ; his avarice, and its ill effects, 191 ; de- 
 ceives Gentius, ib. ; defeated by Himilius, 
 195 ; surrenders himself to the Romans, 197 ; 
 
 X 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
INDEX. 
 
 and is led in triumph by iEmilius, 199 ; his 
 death, 201. 
 
 Pharnabazus, duplicity of, towards Lysander, 
 . 312. 
 
 Phidias, the statuary, 126. 
 
 Phdip, the Acarnanian, his regard for Alexander, 
 
 Philip, king of Macedon, assassinated by Pausa- 
 nius, for refusing him justice under a great 
 injury he had received, 462. 
 
 Philopoemen, his general character, 256 ; is in- 
 vested with the command of the Acheans, 
 and defeats Machanidas, 259 ; is defeated in 
 a naval battle, 261 ; his contempt of money, 
 ib. ; is taken prisoner and put to death, 263 ; 
 is worthily lamented by the Acheans, ib. 
 
 Phocion, his general character, 513 ; his obliga- 
 tions and gratitude to Chabrias, 514; differs 
 in opinion with Demosthenes, ib. ; success- 
 fully pleads with Alexander on behalf *of the 
 Athenians, 517 ; whose gifts he refuses to 
 accept, 518 ; the excellent character of his 
 wife, ib. ; refuses to be corrupted by Har- 
 palus, 519 ; defeats the Macedonian forces, 
 520 ; his integrity, 521 ; and justice, ib. ; is 
 unjustly accused and put to death, 523 ; but 
 is honoured after death, 524. 
 
 Pirates, their depredations and audacity, 436 ; 
 
 _ subdued by Pompey, ib. 
 
 Pirithous and Theseus, friendship of, 10. 
 
 Pisistratus, ostentatious conduct of, 72. 
 
 Plague, at Athens, 127. 
 
 Piatsea, battle of, most fatal to the Parian arms, 
 239. 
 
 Plato, seized by Dionysius, and sold as a slave, 
 650; is invited by Dion to Sicily, 651; his 
 return, 652. 
 
 Plynteria, ceremonies of, 156. 
 
 Pomaxaethres kills Crassus by treachery, 389. 
 
 Pompey, his general character, 427 ; is honoured 
 by Sylla, 428 ; his domestic misconduct, 
 429 ; his inhumanity, ib. ; subdues Africa, 
 430 ; conducts the war in Spain against Ser- 
 torius, 432 ; and obtains a second triumph, 
 433 ; appointed with unlimited power to 
 subdue the pirates, 434 ; his success, 436 ; 
 quarrels with Lucullus, ib. ; conquers nume- 
 rous nations and armies, 438 ; his splendid 
 triumphs, 442 ; is appointed sole consul, 446 ; 
 leaves Rome to oppose Caesar, 449 ; by whom 
 he is conquered, 453 ; his death, 456 ; and 
 funeral, ib. 
 
 Porsena, his greatness of mind, 81. 
 
 Portia, wife of Brutus, her heroic conduct, 667. 
 
 Porus, defeated and taken prisoner by Alexander, 
 
 * 483- 
 
 Praecia, her character and influence, 344. 
 
 Procrustes, slain by Theseus, 3. 
 
 Psylli, a people who obviate the bite of serpents, 
 541 - 
 
 Ptolemy, son of Pyrrhus, his death, 286. 
 
 Publicola assists Brutus in expelling Tarquin, 
 73 ; is made consul, 76 ; defeats the Tuscans, 
 and triumphs, 77 ; his magnanimity, ib. ; 
 makes many salutary laws, ib. ; death and 
 character of, 82 ; compared with Solon, ib. 
 
 Pyrrhus, is rescued from the Molossians, 273 ; 
 and protected by Glaucias, by whose aid he 
 regains his kingdom, 274 ; kills Neoptolemus, 
 who conspires against him, ib. ; his great 
 military skill, 275 ; is declared king of Mace- 
 don, 277 ; defeats the Roman army, 279 ; 
 
 735 
 
 offers peace, which the senate refuse, 2S0 ; 
 invades Sicily, 282 ; is defeated by the 
 Romans, 287 ; is killed by an old woman, ib. 
 
 Q-. 
 
 Quirinus, a surname of Romulus, 27. 
 
 Quirites, an appellation of the Romans, whence 
 derived, 27. 
 
 R. 
 
 Rats, squeaking of, an unlucky omen, 217. 
 
 Remus, brother of Romulus, 14 ; discovered by 
 Numitor, 15 ; death of, 16. 
 
 Rhea Sylvia, mother of Romulus, and Remus, 
 14. 
 
 Riches, true use of, 204. 
 
 Rome, origin of, uncertain, 13 ; disputes about 
 its site, 15 ; taken by the Gauls, 105 ; re- 
 taken by Camillus, 108. 
 
 Romulus, brother of Remus, and grandson of 
 Numitor, 14; builds Rome, 15; steals the 
 Sabine women, 19 ; kills Acron, king of the 
 Cecinentians, 20 ; makes peace with Tatius, 
 22 ; becomes arrogant, 24 ; dies suddenly, 
 26. 
 
 S. 
 
 Sabine women, rape of, 19 ; mediate between 
 their countrymen and the Romans, 21. 
 
 Sacred battalion, a part of the Theban army, 208. 
 
 Salaminian galley, uses of, 116. 
 
 Salamis, 62. 
 
 Salii, an order of priesthood, establishment of, 51. 
 
 Samian war, earned on and terminated by Pe- 
 ricles, 124. 
 
 Sardonic laugh, what so called, 575. 
 
 Saturninus proposes an agrarian law, 298. 
 
 Scipio, Africanus, his humane conduct to Han- 
 nibal, 272. 
 
 Scytale, its nature and uses, 312. 
 
 Senate, Roman, institution of, 18 ; increased by 
 Romulus, 20. 
 
 Senate, Spartan, introduced by Lycurgus, 32 ; 
 mode of filling up vacancies in, 41. 
 
 Sertorius, his general character, 392 ; serves under 
 Marius, and is wounded, 393 ; loses an eye, 
 ib. \ visits the Canary Isles, 395 ; harasses 
 the Roman armies, ib. ; subdues the Chara- 
 citani b}*- stratagem, 397 ; rejects the offers of 
 Mithridates, 400 ; is murdered by Perpenna, 
 one of his generals, 401. 
 
 Servilius, Marcus, his speech in defence of Pau- 
 lus ,^milius, 199. 
 
 Sicinius, one of the Roman tribunes, accuses 
 Marcus Coriolanus, 162. 
 
 Sicinus, a spy, employed by Themistocles, 90. 
 
 Silenus, the pretended son of Apollo, 314. 
 
 Sitting, a posture of mourning, 541. 
 
 Solon converses with Anacharsis and Thales, 61 ; 
 writes a poem to persuade the Athenians to 
 rescind a foolish law, 62 ; takes Salamis, ib. ; 
 settles disputes between the rich and the 
 poor, 65 ; repeals the laws of Draco, 66 ; 
 various regulations, 68 ; sails to Egypt, 
 Cyprus, and Sardis ; has an interview with 
 Croesus, 70, 71. 
 
736 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Sophocles gains the prize as a tragic writer, at 
 Athens, 337. , * , • . j 
 
 Sparta becomes corrupted by the introduction 01 
 money, 547. . . , o . 
 
 Spartacus, war of, its origin and success, 378 , 
 and termination, 379. 
 
 Stars, opinion of the Peloponnesians concerning 
 
 Stasicratesf the architect, employed by Alex- 
 ander, 487. . rr . 
 
 Stratocles, his impudence and effrontery, 610. 
 
 Sucro, battle of, 432. ^ j 
 
 Sulpitius, his great depravity, 300 ; and death, 
 
 SurenT,* his dignity and honour, 384 ; defeats 
 Crassus, 388. . 
 
 Sylla receives Jugurtha as a prisoner from -oo " 
 chus, king of Numidia, 317; etymology ot 
 his name, ib^ ; his character, ib. , entms 
 Rome, and indiscriminately massacres the 
 innocent and the guilty, 320; defeats the 
 army of Archelaus, 321; his cruelties, 322- 
 329 ; depravity, 331 ; and death, tb, 
 
 Syracuse, the nature of the town of, 174; is 
 attacked and taken. 6*^^ Marcellus. 
 
 T. 
 
 Tarentines, their character and condition, 278. 
 
 Tarentum taken by Fabius, by stratagem. 
 Fabius. . 
 
 Tarpeia, treachery and punishment ot, 2t. 
 
 Thais persuades Alexander to destroy the palaces 
 of the Macedonian king, 475* 
 
 Thebe, wife of the tyrant Alexander, conspires 
 against her husband, 215. 
 
 Themistocles is opposed ^ flv 
 
 ambition, ib . ; defeats Xerxes, 88 ; is greatly 
 honoured, 92 ; is banished, 93 ; 
 tection from Admetus, king of the Molos- 
 sians, ib. ; throws himself on the generosity 
 of Xerxes, 95 ; escapes assassination, 96 , Ins 
 
 Theseus, lif/ of, i ; and Romulus compared, 27. 
 
 Thucydides opposes Pericles, 118. , 
 
 Tigranes, his pride, 351 J is completely defeated 
 by Lucullus, 354. 
 
 Timaeus the historian, character of, 362. 
 
 Timoleon, his parentage and characte^ 174 ; 
 prefers his country to his fainily, and slays 
 his brother, 175 ; conquers Dionysius, 178 ; 
 is attempted to be assassinated, 179 ; defeats 
 the Carthaginians, and sends immense spoils 
 to Corinth, 181 ; extirpates tyranny, 185; 
 his death and magnificent burial, 186. 
 
 Timon the misanthropist, 643. 
 
 Tolmides, imprudence of, 121. 
 
 Tribunes of the people, occasion of their election, 
 160. 
 
 Troy, the name of a Roman game, 525. 
 
 Tullus Aufidius receives Coriolanus, 166. 
 
 Tusculans, artful conduct of, 112. 
 
 Tutola, her prudent counsel, 27. 
 
 V. 
 
 Valeria intercedes with the mother and wife of 
 Coriolanus on behalf of their country, 169. 
 
 Varro, is completely defeated at Cannae, by 
 Hannibal, 136. 
 
 Veientes, defeated by Romulus, 24. . , , 
 
 Venus, Paphian, high honour of her priesthood, 
 
 Vinchcms discovers the conspiracy of the Aquihi 
 and Vitellii to Valerius, 75 ; and is made 
 free, 76. , . . , 
 
 Vinius, Titus, urges Galba to accept the imperial 
 purple, 707 ; his character, 709. ^ 
 
 Vitellii conspire with the Aquilii in favour ot 
 Tarquin, 74 ; are discovered and punished, 
 
 75 - 
 
 W. 
 
 War, not to be often made against the same 
 enemy, 36. ^ 
 
 Women, various laws of Solon s concerning, 69. 
 
 X. 
 
 Xerxes is defeated by Themistocles, 91. 
 
 PrclNTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS. LIMITED, LONDON AND EECCLES. ^ 
 

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